by Scott Conrad
“I’m going to make this short and sweet,” Charlie said. “I work for the Department of State and I’m a Federal law enforcement agent. I got involved in all this because my superiors were concerned about a series of Jack Paul’s dealings across international borders… and frankly they’re concerned regarding your teams’ involvement with Jack Paul. I learned of a possible lead on the Order of Phineas when I overheard Jack and one of his pals talking about Jessica’s interest in a lost gold mine up here.
The pal mentioned that he heard that Lewis Hostback was having tremendous luck pulling gold out of the Nelchina Public Use Area. When I learned that Pete here planned to go hunting at Stephan Lake Lodge, I asked him if I could come with him. That’s pretty much the whole story.”
Jessica was staring at him in disbelief, but Brad wasn’t letting him off the hook. “Pretty much isn’t going to be good enough Charlie. There’s something more you’re not telling us and I want to know what?”
Charlie looked down at the dirt floor of the cave. “Look, I understand that you guys are never going to trust me, and I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. When I started this assignment I was told you guys were just a bunch of cowboys with no respect for the law or regard for right or wrong. But I’ve learned that you have as much respect for this country and for the American justice system as I do. Hell, I was even told you guys started your own private war in Central Africa last summer," Charlie said. "With all of your international expeditions, you must have known you would eventually gain the attention of the State Department…"
"I figured they had bigger things to worry about," Brad replied.
“I don’t have much time, and if I don’t get moving pretty quickly those guys will have time to mount a counter offensive. I have what I need now. I know what Hostback and the Order are doing, and I know exactly where they’re doing it. I’ve got to get a message to my superiors so they can get a force up here to deal with this mess quietly. You do know that it’s illegal to use U.S. military forces against a foe inside the U.S., right?”
“Yeah, we’re aware of that,” Brad said dryly. The others, shocked, were listening to the exchange in morbid fascination. Charlie had been accepted, almost one of them… and now he was exposed as a changeling, like an alien exchanged in the crib of a human baby.
“There’s an abandoned ELF facility at Fog Lakes, you know what that is?” Brad nodded, as did the other former Marines. They all knew the Navy had used ELF communications to keep in contact with submarines, and they knew the low frequencies remained virtually impossible to jam.
“I’ve got to get there and get the word out to the State Department about Hostback and the Order of Phineas. Thanks to a former Secretary of State, we have access to a mercenary force well enough equipped to clean this mess up on the quiet. They’re on standby up at Fort Greeley.” Greeley was a little over a hundred and fifty miles north east of them.
“What about the women and children?” Brad asked evenly. They all knew there were women and children down in the Fortress now.
“I can only guarantee that the mercs won’t harm the non-combatants. You can’t blame a guy for taking out someone who’s pointing a loaded weapon at him,” Charlie said unhappily.
“I don’t like this,” Brad said quietly.
“I’m not asking you or your team to participate Brad. I just need to get past that Fortress and down the creek to Fog Lakes… and if you can’t find it in yourself to help with that, I’ll understand.”
Brad glance at the others, and all of them met his eyes. One by one they nodded solemnly. They would help in any way they could.
Brad glanced up into Charlie’s green eyes once again. “Tell me your plan.” Brad closed his eyes and tried to focus on what Charlie was saying, knowing that Ving, Tom, and Jared were listening too. As for Brad, his mind conjured up visions of the disasters at Waco and Ruby Ridge, and he wondered if he had just agreed to help create another ugly mess. He sighed inwardly.
In the final analysis, he had sworn an oath to defend the United States from all enemies, foreign and domestic… and Lewis Hostback and the Order of Phineas fit the latter category to a tee. As far as Brad was concerned, even though he was no longer in the Corps, no one had ever relieved him of his solemn oath.
STANDOFF
They were lined up across the forward edge of the plateau in the predawn twilight. The range to the Fortress was only about two hundred and fifty meters, well within the range of the M4A1. All of them were capable of maintaining a six inch shot group at that range, and a couple of them were capable of a much tighter group. Jared, with the big Barrett, could make a group the size of a quarter at that range on a good day. Only Brad and Tom were not in firing positions. They were down below the falls, helping Charlie force his way into one of the equipment sheds.
“The woods are filled with booby traps according to you guys,” Charlie grunted as they forced the second shed door open. “That only leaves the air or the creek, and I can’t fly even if they had an aircraft.”
“I can fly,” Tom said. He wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact.
“The ELF site is three miles down the creek,” Charlie said. “I can do this; I just need to find something that will get me downstream past the damned traps.”
“How about one of those?” Brad asked. He was pointing at a rack filled with kayaks, stacked four high.
“I think I like that a lot better,” Charlie said, pointing his own finger at a trailer that held a twenty foot johnboat. A gleaming brand new Mercury outboard was mounted on the stern. The three of them raced to the back door of the shed which opened onto the pool beneath the waterfall. They struggled with the massive bar that held the big double door closed and then pushed the doors wide open. Charlie ran around the side of the shed and glanced toward the Citadel. There were armed men swarming the Fortress in confusion, and small groups of them running here and there shouting excitedly.
“Shit!” Charlie exclaimed as he ran back inside to help them wrestle the boat trailer down the short ramp to the pond. “They’re excited as hell and running around with guns. Apparently they haven’t found Killian’s body yet, but they’re looking. I’m wondering why they aren’t down here searching the mine sheds…”
“Maybe they already did that,” Tom muttered as the boat slipped off the trailer and into the water. Brad was holding the dock line, so the boat didn’t get away.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m out of here,” Charlie said, hopping into the johnboat and lying down in the last well by the outboard motor. “Wish me luck!” He pulled the line out of Brad’s hand and pushed off the bank towards the rapid outflow from the pond. The water was rough and fast moving, and the lightweight aluminum boat sped out of sight.
“If they’re in those woods when he floats past he’s a sitting duck,” Tom said.
“I’m not worried about him anymore. If we stay here in this shed any longer we’re liable to get an unfriendly visitor ourselves. I’d rather sit this one out behind the rocks at the top of the falls.”
“What are we waiting for boss man?” Tom asked with a grin. That was just before a wild-eyed man in his mid-thirties stepped through the front door they had forced open and emptied both barrels of a twelve gauge side-by-side into his belly. Tom was dead before his body hit the floor.
Brad reacted without conscious thought. He flung up his left arm as a distracter and drew his custom knife from his belt in the same move, thrusting the point up beneath the wild-eyed man’s sternum and into his heart. Brad didn’t even bother to check him; he turned and scooped up Tom’s lifeless body in his arms, and ran out the back door.
There was a lot of blood, but Brad paid it no mind. He put his grief on a back burner and concentrated on getting to the bottom of the falls where the pathway that led to the top could be accessed. His lungs were already burning when he heard the shots from behind him and saw the slugs splashing in the water beside him. The sound of the big Barrett’s discharge from the rocks abov
e him was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard.
***
The members of the Order weren’t all lunatics, and there were a number of serious marksmen among them. The whole team was maintaining their cover and total fire discipline. Brad couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had laid Tom’s lifeless body on the ground and joined in the firefight, but he knew how much ammo he still had left… not a hell of a lot.
He glanced up at the sky, wondering if Charlie had made it, wondering when the choppers full of mercenaries would arrive from Fort Greeley and if they would make it in time. The path up from the waterfall was narrow and steep, and so far none of the Order had managed to climb it. The path was the only way up to the top of the plateau other than flying or free-climbing, and it was only a matter of time before a few of Hostback’s men tried it.
Brad sighed loudly and turned back to the task at hand. Get a good sight picture. Take in a full breath and let half of it out. Squeeze the trigger gently, letting the actual detonation of the round come as a surprise. Find another target, repeat the procedure. There were damned few cartridges left in his last magazine. Brad wondered if he should pray.
***
Jared counted the remaining .50 caliber rounds for the Barrett. There were not enough to fully recharge his magazine. When he ran out he would be reduced to standing at the head of the path up from the bottom of the waterfall. He wondered if he’d use the beautiful handcrafted fighting knife he’d spent so much money on or whether he’d go down trying to butt stroke one of these backward-ass hillbillies.
He didn’t even bother looking up at the sky, and doubted that Charlie ever made it past the Citadel in that damned aluminum boat. He had seen more than Brad had been able to. He saw Charlie sit up in the boat when people on the bank spotted him and started shooting at him, Charlie pulled the rope on the black outboard a couple of times before Jared had been forced to start shooting. He’d lost sight of Charlie in the ensuing melee.
***
Ving was doggedly firing, taking care to only aim at targets carrying weapons. For a group of extremists that supposedly had a large percentage of ex-military in their ranks, they were sure careless about taking cover. He grunted as he fired the last round in his magazine. He tossed the M4A1 onto the soil beside his firing position and prepared himself for the hand to hand he knew was coming. That was when he heard the Blackhawks.
***
Jessica watched as the group of U.S. Army helicopters swooped in nose first, flared out, and then settled to the ground. Men in black came pouring out of the open doors. One of the first choppers to land, empty within seconds, burst into flames and exploded. Pieces of the helicopter flew into the air and Jessica winced as the shrapnel from the blast rained down on the combatants indiscriminately. Men in black fell, as did members of the Order. Jessica could no longer see any of Hostback’s army outside the walls of the Citadel.
The mercenary force swarmed the Fortress killing dozens of Hostback’s armed men while trying to spare the women and children. It was still ugly, and it was made even worse by the fact that she was watching it all through a flood of tears. Even if Charlie had not lied to her directly, he had lied by omission. The worst part was that she didn’t have any idea whether she truly meant anything to him or if she was just another part of his job.
Added to this hellacious battle and the gruesome death of a man she had recently shared a sleeping bag with, there was no question in her mind that this was the worst day in her life.
EPILOGUE
“I smell bacon,” Ving said with excitement as they approached the lodge at Stephan Lake. He walked up onto the front porch of the rustic lodge and took a seat next to Jessica, whose face was still a mournful study in grief. He reached out and touched the top of her hand as Brad sat down in the chair on the other side of the slender blonde. “Is that bacon I smell?” he asked teasingly.
Jessica sniffed and blinked back her tears. “Yeah, I told the chef how much you loved bacon and he’s making BLTs for dinner.”
Brad reached down into the steel tub of ice on the deck of the porch and pulled out three bottles of icy cold beer. He yanked out a handkerchief and unscrewed the caps on the bottles, carefully wiping the necks before handing the bottles to Ving and Jessica. When he was finished, he raised his bottle up. “To Tom,” he said softly. The three solemnly clicked the necks together and then took a long sip from the necks of the bottles. There was nothing more to say.
When the beer was gone, Jessica uttered a little sound that could have been a giggle or the sound of her choking.
Brad patted her on the back. “What was that all about?”
“I was thinking about our last ‘mission’ together.”
“What about it?”
“On the flight home you dumped a handful of diamonds in my hands and called them a souvenir. I just remembered I haven’t collected anything as a remembrance for this trip. I should have picked up a stone from Mount Watana or maybe one from the creek there at the Fortress.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that if I was you,” Ving said smugly. “I picked up a little something for you when we were waiting by the Fortress for Charlie to come back.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold nugget about the size and shape of a half dollar, dropping it into her open palm.
Jessica struggled with her emotions, finally managing a broken smile, but she couldn’t stop the tears. She had said her goodbyes to Charlie at the foot of the waterfall. He had said it was all real, but she hadn’t been able to make herself believe him.
“Damn,” said Ving, staring at Brad in mock dismay. “Even when I give ‘em gold they don’t love me.”
Jessica turned and hugged Ving, crying into his shoulder, her golden hair glowing lustrously against his blue-black skin as he patted her back.
Brad just watched the spectacular display of Northern Lights in the sky and opened another beer.
THE END.
Check out the other books in the Brad Jacobs Thriller Series from Scott Conrad:
TRACK DOWN AFRICA – Book 1
TRACK DOWN AMAZON – Book 3 coming February 2016
Thank you for taking the time to read TRACK DOWN ALASKA. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. Thank you, Scott Conrad.
