by Eric Bernt
A menacing-looking biker approached the driver’s side of the vehicle. “You lost?”
“We’re looking for Lobo.”
“Never heard of him.”
Butler maintained his gaze. “He’s expecting us.”
Across a weed-filled courtyard, Lobo stepped out of his trailer and gave a nod to his Pagan brother. The first man stepped back from the Bronco, allowing Butler and Skylar to proceed. They parked next to Lobo’s Harley. He eyed them with suspicion. “Ain’t that my uncle’s ride?”
Butler nodded. “We rented it from him.”
Lobo studied them. “Who the hell are you people?”
Butler didn’t answer. “Is our friend here?”
Lobo looked toward his trailer. “He’s chillin’ inside. What’s wrong with him?”
Skylar answered, “He has Asperger’s syndrome. He’s on the high-functioning end of the autism-disorder spectrum.”
“My kid’s got it. Autism. It’s real messed up. Kid don’t say shit.”
“How old is he?” asked Skylar.
“Six.” Lobo’s voice was a mixture of sadness, resignation, and disgust.
“Have you tried getting him any kind of occupational therapy?”
“Any kind of what?”
“Training to help him cope with his sensory-processing issues. Most kids with autism have difficulty filtering out extraneous stimulation, which prevents them from developing the same way as their peers.”
Lobo looked her up and down. “You a doctor or something?”
Before Skylar could answer, they heard an urgent female voice inside the trailer. “Lobo! Get in here!”
“Yes, Auntie!” Lobo immediately ran back inside. Butler and Skylar followed cautiously. Upon entering the mobile home, they discovered Lobo’s aunt staring at Eddie, who was on the floor, playing with Lobo’s young son. The small boy was laughing. And not just a little. He was laughing hysterically.
Upon seeing Lobo’s reaction, Butler looked confused. “What’s wrong?”
Lobo sat down quickly. His knees practically gave out beneath him. “He’s . . . never laughed before.”
Skylar looked on with compassion. “Never?”
Lobo shook his head. “The only sounds he’s ever made are these strange chirps and grunts. Screams a lot, too. Throws tantrums all the time.” He paused to take in the moment. “This is the first time the kid’s ever seemed happy.”
“He is happy,” Eddie confirmed. “You can tell because he is laughing.”
Lobo’s aunt shook her head, dabbing at the tears welling in her eyes. “I had given up hope that something like this could happen.”
Lobo turned to Eddie. “How did you do it?”
“How did I do what?”
“Get him to laugh like that,” the aunt replied.
“I spoke his language.” Eddie made several chirp sounds, followed by grunts and other guttural utterances. After a moment, the little boy laughed even harder. It was infectious.
“What did you just say?” the aunt asked.
“I am not entirely certain, but I believe I just told him that I passed gas.”
The little boy then made a similar series of chirps and grunts.
“He just said that he passed gas, too.” Eddie paused. “He also needs his diaper changed.”
The aunt stared in amazement. “He told you that?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, I can smell it.”
As the aunt got to her feet and picked up the little boy to change him, she turned to Eddie. “Young man, thank you.”
“You are welcome.” After she carried the boy into the bedroom, Eddie got to his feet and turned toward Skylar. “Lobo let me ride on the back of his motorcycle. It was loud and scary.”
She smiled. “I’m sure it was.”
He removed the earplugs from his ears. “Roberto gave me earplugs, so it did not hurt my ears. They are still golden like William Tuthill’s.” He paused, listening to something the others could not hear. He turned to Lobo. “Mr. Lobo, did you know there is a woman standing outside your door?”
Lobo spun around to see Cobra Kelly standing on the front porch with a shotgun in her hands. “When I heard the Pagans had gotten involved, I had an idea you might bring him here.”
Butler studied her and Lobo. “You two know each other?”
Lobo nodded. “Bitch is a bounty hunter.”
“Bad word,” Eddie chimed in.
She addressed Lobo. “I have no beef with you or anyone you ride with. I’m only here for him.” She motioned to Eddie.
Butler stared at her coldly. “You really don’t want to do this.”
“You’re wrong about that, tough guy. I’ve been given all kinds of incentive.” She took a step toward Eddie.
“What is a bounty hunter?” he asked.
“Someone who wants to play tag,” Skylar answered.
“I don’t want to play tag with her or anyone else.”
Butler protectively stepped in front of him. “You should really reconsider.”
Cobra Kelly held out her weapon threateningly. “Or what?”
Directly behind her, she heard the sound of a revolver’s hammer being locked back into firing position. CLICK-CLICK. The gun was held by Lobo’s aunt, who had slipped out a back door. “Or I will blow your head clean off your shoulders.”
The older woman’s tone gave Cobra Kelly no doubt. She knew she was beat and held her arms out to the sides, allowing Lobo to grab her weapon.
He turned to Butler and Skylar. “Time for you to go.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Skylar said. She led Eddie and Butler out the front door and into Roberto’s Bronco.
“More cars are coming. They are driving faster than the posted speed limit.” Eddie pointed through the windows as four sedans SCREECHED to a stop in quick succession in the entrance to the trailer park, blocking the Bronco’s exit.
“More asshole bounty hunters. That’s Ray Dupre and his kin,” Lobo said.
In his car, Big Ray spoke into a handset, which was amplified through a loudspeaker mounted under the hood. “Y’all ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Three rifles simultaneously opened fire from different locations around the trailer park’s entrance. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! They were fired by the Pagans who had initially greeted Butler and Skylar. Two tires in each of the bounty hunters’ vehicles went flat. Each of the sedans now sat at a severe angle.
The gunshots hurt Eddie’s ears, so he quickly placed the earplugs back in.
Lobo stepped toward Dupre and his sons. “I wouldn’t get out of your cars if I was you. Keep your hands where we can see them.”
Big Ray nodded compliantly and placed his hands on his dashboard. His family members followed suit.
Lobo approached the Bronco, pointing behind them. “There’s a back way. Go.”
Butler hit the gas, spraying gravel as he sped out of the trailer park. Eddie and Skylar were both thrown against the backs of their seats. After a moment, Eddie said, “When we get back to Harmony House, I don’t ever want to play tag again.”
Skylar smiled. “That’s a deal.”
CHAPTER 98
SAFE HOUSE
GILBERTS CORNER, VIRGINIA
June 2, 11:58 a.m.
From her subterranean bunker, Caitlin watched via satellite as the Bronco sped away from the trailer park. She answered the call from Butler on the first ring. “Did you have a nice visit with your new friends?”
“Did it have to be Pagans?” Butler asked.
“Given the time frame, I didn’t have much choice.”
From the back seat, Eddie asked, “Who are you talking to?”
Skylar answered, “Her name is Caitlin. She’s the one I told you about who is helping us.”
“Hi, Eddie,” said Caitlin.
“I know that Skylar said you are helping us, and I know your name is Caitlin, but you are still a stranger. I don’t talk to strangers.”
Butler chimed in, “Eddie, Skyla
r would be dead if it wasn’t for Caitlin.”
Skylar said, “Could you be a little less dramatic, perhaps?”
“He is telling the truth, Skylar. One hundred percent. In light of the circumstances, I think it would be okay if I talk with Caitlin.” He paused a moment. “Hi, Caitlin. Did you know that this is only my second phone call?”
“No, I did not know that.”
“Lolo taught me how. She helped me make my first phone call. She is very nice. She is my friend. I know because she said she is.”
“Then I think you should believe her.”
“Caitlin, why are you helping us?”
She was taken aback for a moment. “Because I did not think you were being treated fairly.”
“How did you know?”
“I’ll explain that when this is all over.”
“When what is all over?”
Caitlin glanced at another monitor, where Hogan appeared on-screen. He made a circular motion with his finger, meaning for her to wrap it up. “Guys, you’ll have to excuse me, but I have to go. Butler, proceed to the previous rendezvous point. You’ll be given further instructions there.”
“Copy that,” Butler replied before hanging up.
Eddie asked, “Butler, what are you copying?”
Inside her bunker, Caitlin turned to Hogan on-screen. “Is everything set?”
He nodded grimly.
“You know how much I hate this, right?”
He nodded again. “If you didn’t, there would be something wrong with you.” He paused, checking another screen in his location. “It’ll be over soon enough.”
“Hogan, if this thing goes sideways—”
“It won’t. Everything is covered. Just do your part.”
Her phone rang. It was a Skype call, so it rang on both her phone and one of her computer screens. The call was from her husband. “Is that him?”
He nodded. “Answer it.”
She clicked the camera icon on the screen. A handheld view of her terrified family appeared. Peter, Marissa, and Mikey were each tied to a chair. Marissa and Mikey were gagged so that they couldn’t speak. Coogan’s face could not be seen, but his voice could be heard. “Hold on one second there, Mrs. McCloskey, there’s somebody else who would like to speak with you.”
Inside the modest home in the lesser end of Harvey, North Dakota, Coogan pressed the “Conference” button for another party to join the call. After a moment, Bob Stenson appeared in split screen from his office at the American Heritage Foundation. “Sorry it’s come to this, Caitlin, but you didn’t leave me much choice.”
CHAPTER 99
AMERICAN HERITAGE FOUNDATION
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
June 2, 12:02 p.m.
Down the hall from Stenson’s office, four separate cell phones rang simultaneously with Skype calls. Inside Trotter and Greers’s office, the two men turned to each other quizzically as their phones rang in unison. Greers said, “What the hell?”
Trotter studied his phone. “The call is from an unknown sender.”
“I thought that wasn’t possible on Skype.”
“It’s not supposed to be. Whoever this is knows what he’s doing. He also knows who we are.”
Greers clearly found this unsettling. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. Listen.” They could hear two other phones ringing down the hall. The sounds were coming from the office shared by Enola and Charlie.
“Well?”
“Duh,” responded Trotter as he pressed the icon to answer the call. Greers immediately followed suit.
Down the hall, Enola and Charlie had arrived at the same decision. Each pressed the icon to receive the call. On their screens, three views appeared: one of Peter, Marissa, and Mikey held hostage, looking terrified; one of Caitlin in her subterranean safe house; and one of Stenson sitting in his office down the hall.
In the text window at the bottom of each screen, the following message appeared:
Stenson does not know you can see this. He cannot hear you or see any comment you make. Decide for yourselves which side you should be on.
There was a slight delay in the transmission, much like the seven-second delay in a network’s live broadcast to prevent profanity or other obscenities from going out over the air. Then they heard what Stenson had said a few seconds earlier: “Sorry it’s come to this, Caitlin, but you didn’t leave me much choice.”
“Each member of my family is a complete innocent!” Caitlin screamed from her bunker. “Look at them!”
“You brought this on yourself.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“And don’t even try to claim your father is an innocent,” Stenson said abruptly.
“Have you seen him lately?” she asked in disbelief.
“You know I have.”
“He was your mentor!”
“He helped you initiate the Alpha Reset Protocol. I don’t know how, but don’t try to deny it. You would never have gotten this far without his help.”
“He always knew you were a vindictive little man. Why do you think he prepared for this so many years ago?”
Stenson briefly bit his tongue. “You hold him on such a high pedestal. If you only knew—”
She exploded with pent-up emotion. “You son of a bitch, you hired Mr. Elliott—the pure embodiment of evil—to torture him until I gave myself up.”
Stenson remained frighteningly calm. “Obviously, that never came to pass.”
“So what is this, your backup plan?”
“I always have a Plan B. You know that. Return the six hundred million, give yourself up, and nothing will happen to your family. You have my word.”
Caitlin steeled herself. “And if I don’t?”
“My man, Coogan, up there will start with your daughter. The things he is going to do to her will occur right in front of your husband. And if that doesn’t work, Coogan will then do the same things to your son.”
Caitlin clenched her fists tightly. She seemed barely able to contain herself. “You are absolutely vile.”
“Desperate times require desperate measures.”
Caitlin paused as she adjusted the position in her chair. She now sat more upright. Her expression seemed to change dramatically. She no longer looked disgusted and beaten. She appeared confident. Even certain. “I guess the key would be never to get that desperate, then.”
“This is your last chance, Caitlin. Tell me where you are right now, or this will become rather distasteful.”
CHAPTER 100
“MONTGOMERY” FAMILY HOME
HARVEY, NORTH DAKOTA
June 2, 11:06 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Coogan was not literally licking his lips, but he might as well have been. As he pointed the satellite phone’s camera at his three frightened hostages, he locked his eyes on the girl. The one he’d been instructed to attend to first. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he would soon be doing to her. His hands trembled.
Caitlin then said something that confused the other parties on the call, except for one. “Hogan, now.”
For the first time during the call, Hogan spoke from his unknown location. “Damien, go.”
Damien Davis was one of the eight assassins Bob Stenson had previously attempted to hire before being steered in Mr. Elliott’s direction. Unfortunately for Stenson, Hogan had reached him first. He was currently standing in the backyard of the modest Harvey residence, clad completely in black, as Hogan had been the night before.
The weapon in Damien’s hands was a Springfield Armory M1A, one of the finest sniper rifles in the world. In the proper hands, it was accurate to within a quarter of an inch at a thousand-yard range. The .308-caliber spitzer bullet fired from it traveled at 3,100 feet per second. In other words, it could travel the length of ten football fields in just over a second, which meant it flew the distance from gun barrel to Coogan’s skull in approximately three one-hundredths of a second. It happened so quickly, it was difficult to differe
ntiate the sounds of the gunshot, the window shattering, Coogan’s head exploding, and the bullet puncturing two additional interior walls before exiting the house and lodging in a telephone pole.
Moving only the essential parts of his body, Damien efficiently chambered a second round and fired again, this time puncturing the center of Coogan’s chest before his body had even started to collapse to the floor. If the sniper’s camouflaged outfit wasn’t enough to suggest that Hogan had trained him, the double tap most certainly was.
Coogan somehow managed to maintain a grip on his phone as he dropped to the floor. As luck would have it, the phone had twisted around, allowing those still on the Skype call to see his now-lifeless eyes in close-up.
Damien communicated into a headset. “Target is down.”
“Double tap?” Hogan asked.
“Is there any other way?” Damien entered the house through a back door and used a switchblade to cut through Peter’s restraints, then handed him the knife to free his children. By the time Peter looked up to thank him, Damien was already gone.
Peter hugged his two children long and tight. Tears flowed from all three.
Over the phone, Caitlin could hear him saying how much he loved them. Loudly, she asked, “Peter, is everyone okay? Peter?!”
Peter eventually made his way over to his phone, on the floor next to Coogan’s body. He stared at his wife’s image on the screen. Stenson had already left the call. “I’m here. The kids and I are fine.”
“Thank God.” She touched her screen as if to touch him.
“Caitlin, how did they find us?”
With tremendous guilt, she answered, “I wasn’t careful enough.”
He searched her eyes as best he could on the small screen. “Tell me the truth. Are we safe?”
Caitlin looked him squarely in the eyes. “I have one last thing to take care of, and you will be.”
“Then we can come home?”
“Then you can come home.” It was only now that she realized Stenson no longer appeared on-screen.
