by Steven Bird
Running down the hall with his AR-10 at the high ready and his weapon-mounted light now lighting his way in the dark hallway, Jessie began to cough from the diesel exhaust fumes that rapidly filled the poorly ventilated basement hallway. Seeing the dozer just up ahead atop a pile of rubble, Jessie saw Jack lying face down, partially covered in crumbled concrete, stones, and mortar.
“Jack! Are you okay?” Jessie shouted over the loud roar of the engine and the mechanical noise made by the still-churning tracks.
Giving him a thumbs-up, Jack coughed again and shouted, “Shut that thing off!”
Looking at the moving tracks and the precarious angle at which the dozer sat, Jessie realized that simply climbing into the operator’s seat to shut the machine off would not be as easy as it might seem. Thinking quickly, he opened the engine compartment’s side-access door, located the diesel engine’s injection pump, followed the fuel-inlet line, and found a manual fuel shut-off valve, closing it, bringing the roaring engine and clanging tracks to a stop.
“Are you okay?” he asked again, kneeling down by Jack’s side.
“My leg,” Jack said in a short and stress-filled manner. “I think it’s broken. I tried to get it free, but couldn’t.”
Resting his rifle against the dozer in a position to shine his weapon-mounted light on the pile of rubble, Jessie said, “Keep an eye on things down the hallway. T. R. is with Rosa, so don’t shoot them by mistake.”
“You found her? Good!” Jack replied. “Is she okay?”
“She seemed fine to me,” said Jessie as he began digging through the rubble.
Tossing a large chunk of concrete to the side, Jessie asked, “So, what happened? What’s our situation outside?”
“I only saw two vehicles approach,” Jack replied. “Two of Peronne’s men were in each. Two are down hard, and two got away around behind the building. They could be making entry on the level above us by now.”
“You got two of them?” Jessie asked.
“Nope. But Angela did.”
“Angela?” Jessie queried.
“Yes, Angela. Who do you think was providing over-watch?” Jack answered. “That girl is a hell of a shot. She’s been into long-range competitive shooting for years. It was a way for me to get her prepared without actually talking with her mother about what was on my mind about what I saw going on around us.”
“Smart man,” Jessie replied. “Is she okay out there?”
“I think so. They didn’t seem to know where the shots were coming from.” Reaching for his belt, Jack retrieved his radio, placed it up to his head, keyed the mic, and said, “Are you there?”
Releasing the transmit button, Jack listened as nothing but static emanated from the radio.
Looking at Jack as he tossed another chunk of concrete aside, Jessie said, “It’s probably just that you can’t pick her signal up down here. You practically had a line-of-sight on her before.”
Coughing and wincing in pain, Jack said, “Yeah, I hope you’re right.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Climbing over a backyard fence and quickly hiding behind what was once a neatly arranged hedgerow, Leina sat on the ground as she inspected her bare feet and thought, I’ve got to find some shoes and soon, as she picked a thorn from her heel. Watching a police SUV speed by, toward the east end of town, she remained hidden for a moment, only to turn and look at the window behind her, with the gap in the curtains being quickly drawn shut.
Damn it! she thought, realizing that she was being watched. As she stood in a hunched-over position and plotted her next move, another SUV approached from the east to the west. This time, however, it was moving slowly while an officer on foot on each side of the SUV searched the surrounding areas.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Leina quickly turned, drawing the Glock 9mm from the loose-fitting police duty belt around her waist, only to hear an elderly woman’s voice say, “Come inside. Quickly.”
Hesitating for a moment, Leina looked at the woman, whom she assumed to be in her early to mid-seventies, wearing a bathrobe with a hairnet and slippers. Lowering the pistol, she began to speak as the woman interrupted her, whispering, “Come on. There’s no time to argue.”
Holstering the weapon, Leina followed the woman around the side of the house to the back entrance, where a young man in his mid-twenties ushered them inside, closing the door securely behind them.
Rushing to the front of the home, the young man looked through the curtains and said, “Only one house to go. Hurry up.”
Taking Leina by the hand, the elderly woman said, “This way, dear. There’s no time for discussion. I don’t know who you are or what your story is, but it doesn’t matter at the moment. We can catch up later.”
Leading her into the restroom at the end of the bedroom hallway, the lady opened the closet door, removed a clothes hamper full of used towels, and opened what appeared to Leina to be a hidden door covered with linoleum flooring to match the rest of the room.
“It’s cramped, but it’s the best we can do for now. Once they’re gone, we’ll get you out and catch up on whatever is going on. Tommy and I will take care of things up here. If they come in the house, don’t worry. They search our homes all the time. We’re used to it. Just keep quiet and you’ll be fine.”
Nodding in reply, Leina slipped into the cramped compartment underneath the floor as the woman replaced the section of flooring overhead, leaving Leina in total darkness.
Hearing the closet door close as the woman left the room, Leina felt around the small, cramped space, which, from what she could tell, measured only four feet by four feet at the most. The space seemed to be very crudely constructed, with moisture seeping through the wood-plank floor.
Feeling a long wooden box off to one side, Leina opened it and felt around inside. A hunting rifle, she thought as her fingers traced over what felt to her to be a wooden-stocked, bolt-action rifle with a scope mounted on top. Continuing to explore the contents of the box in the darkness, Leina felt what she thought were several boxes of ammunition and other related supplies.
With nothing but the sounds above her to guide her thoughts, Leina closed her eyes and listened intently as she heard what sounded like one of the main entry doors upstairs being smashed open, followed by the sound of screams from the woman who had helped her hide.
“What are you doing? What’s going on?” the woman shouted, followed by the sounds of a physical struggle.
“Leave him alone! Leave Tommy alone!” she yelled with fear in her voice.
“Where is she?” an authoritative man’s voice answered. “Where is the woman?”
“What woman, what are you talking about?” she cried.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” the man’s voice shouted. “Where is she? She’s a cop killer, and if you’re harboring her, that makes you guilty as well.”
The voice of a young man whom she assumed to be Tommy replied, “We don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no one here.”
“That’s not what your neighbor said. Now, speak up while you still can.”
“Leave him alone!” the elderly woman shouted.
Hearing only the sounds of a muted struggle for the next moment, the elderly woman screamed in horror, “Nooooooo!” as the sound of a gunshot rang out, followed by her tearful sobs.
“You bastards! You killed him! You killed him,” she cried. “He’s all I had left in this world,” she cried out in agony.
The woman’s sorrowful cries were interrupted by the sounds of an intensified struggle, as it appeared the woman was being dragged from room to room as each door was being kicked open. With the sounds seeming to be growing nearer, the bathroom door above came crashing inward as the woman was thrown against the bathtub, now laying on the floor, crying.
“Where is she?” the man’s voice demanded as the cadence of her sobs were interrupted by the sound of deep, sickening thuds as he beat her.
Unable to remain hidden any longer with what was goi
ng on above her, Leina quietly pushed up on the hidden door above her. Feeling the weight of the clothes hamper, she moved ever so slowly in an effort to keep the hamper from sliding off the door too quickly, making a noise.
Propping the door open with a mop bucket, Leina slipped from underneath the floor and quietly positioned herself by the closet door. Hearing the woman’s whimpers begin to fade, Leina knew she could not wait any longer. Slowly turning the knob to release the bolt from its catch, she gripped the handle of the butcher knife she had taken from Peronne’s home and exploded from the closet like a mad woman. She began stabbing the man in the back, piercing his lung as he stood with his hand in the air, poised for another strike at the poor, defenseless woman who now lay in the tub covered in blood.
As the man dropped to his knees, the sounds of gurgling air rushing from his wound as his lung deflated and collapsed, Leina whispered in his ear, “Shhhhh, don’t go to hell screaming. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself down there.”
Pulling the knife from his back, she drew the blade across his throat, spilling his blood on the bathroom floor. Lowering him to the floor slowly by holding onto his hair in order to keep from making any unnecessary sounds, she heard the man’s partner coming down the hallway yelling, “Jose! What’s going on?”
Entering the room, the man saw his partner lying in a pool of blood on the white linoleum floor, and then, from behind the door, he saw the blade of a large butcher knife come at him as it sliced him across the face, taking the sight from his left eye as Leina tackled him, pushing him into the wall behind him. As he looked down at her rage-filled face, she thrust the knife into his gut. Grabbing his right hand with her left, Leina kept his holstered pistol in place while she repeatedly stabbed him in the stomach with the knife while staring directly into his remaining eye as it filled with blood from the devastating wound.
“You’re gonna join your friend in hell real soon, you son-of-a-bitch,” as she drew the knife across his stomach with a vengeance, spilling his guts onto the floor.
Collapsing into the pile of his own entrails, the man’s world faded into darkness as he convulsed in pain. As his final thoughts raced through his mind, knowing that the end was upon him, he saw the faces of all those he had caused to suffer, their eyes staring at him as if they were awaiting their vengeance on the other side.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“It’s us!” Jessie shouted as he kicked the door open, carrying Jack into the room where T. R. had been looking after Rosa.
“What happened?” T. R. said with excitement as he rushed over to help Jessie lay him on a large foldout table.
Cutting through Jack’s pant leg with his knife, Jessie said, “The dozer finally worked its way into the basement.”
“Got bit by my own attack dog,” Jack said, attempting to joke through the pain.
Rushing over to the table to see if she could be of assistance, Rosa wiped the sweat and dirt from Jack’s forehead as Jack said, “Damn, Rosa. They worked you over good,” noticing the bruising on her face and arms. “I’m so sorry that we didn’t do something sooner.”
“It’s not your fault, Jack. It’s mine,” she said, looking down at the floor in shame. “I shouldn’t have served that tyrant as long as I did.”
Taking her by the hand, Jack looked her in the eye and said, “None of us should have let this go on for as long as we did. It’s not your fault. We all share the burden of responsibility, but the only ones who can actually share the blame are those out there carrying weapons against us in his name at this very moment.”
“But I knew more than most,” she said with a tear in her eye. “That’s why I had to help the woman. I just couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why they came for me.”
“Woman, what woman?” Jessie asked.
“They brought her in following one of their supply runs to the east of town. I’ve seen it before. They’ve never brought men in, from whatever it was they were doing out there, only women, and only attractive ones at that.”
“What do you know about her?” he asked.
“She was a strong one. Her only weakness seemed to be for her children. She asked for them repeatedly, but Peronne and his men kept telling her they were being looked after and cared for at the clinic, which I know was not true. They just kept stalling her with that excuse. The poor girl, she was a wreck worrying about them.”
Wiping a tear from her eye, Rosa continued, saying, “Peronne and his inner circle tend to do bad things to young women when they get the chance. She was different, though. Peronne had his eyes for her, more so than the others. After he had stalled her about the children as long as he could, he had several of the men bring her to his home.”
“I wouldn’t call it his home,” Jack interrupted with contempt in his voice. “We all know how he came to live there.”
“Anyway,” she said, returning to the story, “This one was different. She was strong. She had seen and done a lot during her time out there traveling. I could see it in her eyes. I could see it in the way she resisted them. Not with rage, but almost as if she was manipulating them while they were attempting to manipulate her. Once they got her to Peronne’s home, or rather, the home he calls his own, the game changed. She didn’t give in to his attempts to woo her, and it hurt his ego. He’s a very small man inside, if you ask me. That makes him dangerous. He has to compensate with violence and intimidation to cover his insecurities.
“To make a long story short, he drugged her to get what he wanted. She awoke in a very unflattering position. I knew the men had been taking advantage of her in very ugly ways while she was asleep. It sickened me. I had seen it before, but this one, for some reason, pushed me over the edge inside.
“Then one day, when I was working at his home, she asked me for help. I almost walked out. I almost ignored her and did nothing. I’m thankful now, though, that I didn’t. Maybe God will forgive me for everything that I looked away from, if I somehow helped this one,” she said as she broke down in tears.
“It’s okay,” Jack said, holding her by the hand. “What did you do? How did you help?”
“I left her with a corkscrew,” Rosa replied. “I didn’t do anything else. I simply left her with it, and she used it to earn her freedom. The two officers guarding Peronne’s home were somehow taken out by her. When the others realized what had happened, they came for me. They beat me over and over, asking me if I knew where she’d gone. I said nothing. I didn’t know anything to tell them. The funny thing is, leaving her a corkscrew didn’t seem like much, but somehow, I knew she could take care of the rest. It was in her eyes.”
“Ahhhh!” Jack exclaimed as Jessie and T. R. cinched a belt tight around the make-shift leg brace they had cobbled together from materials found in the room.
“Sorry, Jack, but your buddies from outside who circled around the building are gonna be on us hot and heavy before we know it. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“How? Our door has been closed,” Jack asked while pointing out their dilemma.
“We’ll have to find a new one,” Jessie replied. “If we can get to the upper floors and near a window, maybe we can reach our guardian angel for a little cover fire while we get ourselves out of here.”
Looking nervous, T. R. replied, “There’s got to be an army surrounding this place by now.”
“I didn’t say it was gonna be easy,” Jessie replied. “Do you have a better idea?”
Thinking for a moment, T. R. asked, “So, there’s no way around the dozer?”
“Nope,” Jessie replied sharply. “The floor above collapsed onto the opening. It’s nothing but rubble.”
“There’s one option, if it’s true,” T. R. said.
“Option?” Jessie queried. “True?”
“There’s supposed to be an old tunnel leading under the courthouse grounds that was built as part of the original structure. Remember, this was the town of the likes of Billy the Kid. When this old courthouse was built, such things
were still heavy on the minds and memories of the people who lived here. After Billy the Kid’s escape from the Lincoln jailhouse, people thought it prudent to build discreet ways to move prisoners about, one of which, was an underground tunnel. The tunnel was said to have been designed for occasions where a prisoner or witnesses, who may be sworn to testify against such criminals, could be safely brought in and out without being led up the front steps of the courthouse, right out in the open.”
“Why didn’t you mention that before?” Jessie asked with tension in his voice.
“It wouldn’t do us any good on the way in if we don’t know where it comes out,” T. R. replied. “We wouldn’t have known where to start, and it’s not like we could have just walked around in plain sight, looking for the other end of the tunnel.”
“If that’s what we’re doing, I need to get a message to Angela to pull out and fall back. They’ll eventually pinpoint her location. I can’t have her just sitting there all this time, waiting for us to come out the front door.”
“Angela?” T. R. queried.
“She’s our guardian angel,” Jessie quickly answered. Turning his attention back to the group, he said, “Okay, before we get too far ahead of ourselves, let’s try to find this underground exit. If we can’t find it, then she’ll just see us exit out the front door after all. If we do find it, we’ll get in touch with her and let her know to fall back.”
Nodding in agreement, Jack winced in pain.
“He’s not doing very well,” Rosa said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Yeah, let’s get a move on,” Jessie replied. “T. R. and I will look for the tunnel, if it’s here, while you stay with Jack.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jack said as he rested his Glock on his chest. “You guys keep her safe.”
“You keep an eye on her, then,” Jessie said, winking at Rosa.
~~~~
Working their way through the darkened basement hallway, lighting their way with their weapon-mounted lights, Jessie and T. R. double-checked the rooms they had previously cleared for any signs of access to an underground tunnel.
