by Brian Gore
"We stick to the Jamaicans. If they move we do. Otherwise, we sit right here. But watch for lights. Those shots are likely to bring the police. We need to take care to not get entangled with them!"
But a few seconds later, after they watched the men run back into the house, they saw the lights of the SUVs and van moving up the driveway. Jadranko started their own car in preparation, but left the lights off. They'd taken care to disable the "daytime running lights" so their position would not be revealed, unwanted, at night.
When the van had passed, following the Escalade, Jadranko put the car in gear and pulled slowly out onto the pavement, still not turning on their headlights. He kept one eye on the road behind them. Getting tail ended, moving slowly in the dark on the highway, was not a way to win any glory.
They moved south slowly, just keeping the cars in sight. Having no idea what was going on, they wanted to stay out of it for the time being. Their expectation that the likely direction those cars would be going was out where the runners had disappeared into the darkness was rewarded when all three turned out into the grass, nearly a mile to the south.
Mirza and Jadranko watched headlights come on and a car come up out of the darkness, out on the grass, and hurtle toward the oncoming trio of vehicles. They watched as it went headon with the lead SUV and then get spun to the side when they collided. Jadaranko called out; "They hit, they hit! Shots, four!"
The sound of Ben's shots as he spun the Saturn behind the Escalade were muffled with distance, the camouflage of the roaring engines, and having been fired inside the car. But the muzzle flashes inside the car were unmistakable to these men of Bosnia.
As it passed the second vehicle, several flashes and the delayed sound of gunfire came from the van. No shots came from the third vehicle, the black Yukon.
Whoever they were, the runners seemed to be putting up a fight.
They watched as the car threaded its way through the blocking actions of the Jamaican drivers and continue back to the pavement. It seemed odd to them that it stopped and sat motionless for several seconds, once it had navigated its way, bouncing and weaving, to the asphalt. They thought maybe the motor had quit. Maybe it had taken damage from gunfire. Mirza heard a shout come from the car, but couldn't make out the words, over the sound of their own car.
But, after just a few seconds, it took off south with the vehicles they'd followed from Chicago, and the third that had joined here in Montana, in hard pursuit behind it.
Chapter 33
"UH!... Shit!" Ben fell hard, tumbling across the grass.
"Daddy?!" Karen screamed, "What's wrong?"
"Hit! Keep, running! Damn!" Ben scrambled to his feet to keep running. He continued toward the car, limping badly on his left leg.
"Oh My God! You're shot?" she screamed as she reached for him.
"Not Now!... Just... Keep... Running!" Ben pushed her on, "Go! Go! RUN!"
Ben ran on pure adrenaline and will power, a searing pain in his foot. He hollered at Karen; "You run girl! Run!... Red car... The keys are in the ignition... I don't get there, you go. You GO Damn it!... Don't wait... just go!" He pointed across the grass in the moonlight. Up ahead he could just make out the dark shadow of the coulee that concealed the Saturn.
The pain in his foot was murder, but he kept running. His daughter ahead of him he kept going, one foot in front of the other. As he ran he thought, "Damn it. Damn it! I'm spurting a bloody trail, all over this prairie, and the damn cops are gonna follow it, right, straight, to me! God Damn it!"
Behind them the shooting ceased. He heard some hollering but couldn't make out the words. He thumbed the magazine release and grabbed the empty magazine before it could fall to the ground as he ran. His second magazine he jerked from his back pocket and slammed it into the magazine well, thumbing the slide release, allowing it to slam home.
As he ran he couldn't keep the idea out of his thoughts; "Just one mistake. Just one miscalculation... Damn it! Getting shot was damn sure a mistake! He couldn't face or accept the consequences of that, and so, limping, and grunting in pain with each step, he ran!"
Karen made it to the car and was waiting when he slid over the lip and down into the coulee.
"I told you don't wait! Get in!" he snapped as he limped past her to the drivers door. "Come on! Move girl!"
Karen was breathing as hard as he. Her heart felt like it would explode. She'd never been this scared in all her life. What the hell had her father gotten them into?
Ben sat down on the driver's seat and in the glow of the dome light, pulled his left foot up to look at the damage... and started laughing.
"Daddy? What in hell are you laughing at? What could be funny in any of this?" Karen cried out.
Ben laughed again, until he let out a "Yeeeeeahhh!" of pain, and held out, under the dome light, the bloody nail he'd pulled out of his heel. "A Nail girl!" laughing he said; "I thought I'd got shot. I caught a nail, in the middle of a pasture, in bumfuck Montana! Ha ha ha!" Looking across the car at his daughter, Ben tossed the nail into the back seat.
He twisted around behind the steering wheel as he latched his seat belt and told Karen to do the same.
"Now the fun begins Darlin'! Those boys are still coming!" he said as he twisted the ignition key to fire up the engine, and jerked the gear shift into drive.
Heart racing Karen just looked wordlessly at her father. She'd seen him drunk, she'd seen him angry. She'd seen him ride through the storm on a saddle bronc. In all her young life, she'd never seen him like this. There was a wild, almost crazy look in his eyes. She was looking at a man she didn't know. It scared her.
Ben spun the Saturn around in the grass beside the narrow track and headed them back toward the pavement, sending up a rooster tail of grass and dirt from the spinning, sliding tires.
As the car vaulted up over the sudden lip of the coulee, coming out of the depression, and the land in front of them came back into view, Ben pointed and exclaimed; "There! Here they come!"
Three sets of headlights were just turning toward them off the road ahead.
Ben pressed harder on the accelerator. The little car leaped ahead, bouncing and weaving across the plain, coming airborne with every hump in the ground. It hurtled through the dark on the two track, racing on a collision course with the on coming cars.
The headlights of the SUV hurtled at them, a second from impact. Karen screamed as Ben cut the wheel and swerved right, out of the trail.
But a split second too late. The Escalade, without braking, clipped the rear fender of the Saturn as it careened out of the way trying to avoid a head on collision. The impact spun the car, counter clockwise, nearly 180 degrees. It tipped up, left side wheels coming off the ground, nearly overturning. Engine screaming, Ben kept the accelerator nailed to the floor. The car slammed back down, all four tires on the ground again, and shot back across the two track, narrowly missing another impact as it cut across in front of the closely following van.
Ben fired four shots, across his body through the driver's door window, at the rear of the Escalade as they crossed behind it.
As he swung back to the right and roared past the van, going in opposite directions, several shots from the van peppered the car. One shattered the right side mirror producing yet another scream from Karen. A second and third, punched through the panels into the back seat. A fourth and fifth broke out the rear window.
Fishtailing through the grass he passed the Yukon coming up behind the van and regained the track behind the cars. With Karen's kidnappers reversing direction in a whirling cloud of dust behind them, he pushed the little car toward the pavement, now less than a quarter mile away, as hard as he dared. Ben hollered at Karen as he fought to control the careening car; "Are you Ok? Are you hit?"
Dazed, not really understanding, everything a crazy kaleidoscope of crashing gunfire, breaking glass and flashing lights she stuttered in reply; "Ye... yes... I.. th... I think... so." as she looked slowly at herself, seeing no blood but wonderin
g if indeed; "Am I going to die tonight?"
As they neared the road he peered through the moonlit darkness and thought he could see the dark bulk of the blue car, a few hundred yards back up the road and he grinned. "Good boys... good boys." Karen still dazed, wondered at his words.
He braked hard as they reached the asphalt, sliding the car sideways, onto the pavement. Looking back down the track at their rapidly approaching pursuers, he screamed into the night; "Come on you bastards! Come on! Come on!"
"What's wrong with you Daddy?" Karen screamed at him, crying and slapping his shoulder. "You want them to chase us? Are you crazy? Go! Please! Go!"
Ben looked over at his daughter, the car sitting motionless in the moonlight on the highway. "Yeah Baby. I want them to chase us. I NEED them to chase us! Trust me girl, you do too!"
The wild gleam in his eyes, and the laughter with which he spoke the words was maybe the most frightening thing she thought she'd ever seen. Nearly as bad as opening her door to a knock, only to be shoved back inside and beaten by those men three nights before. She thought, if only for a flash, that look, that gleam, to be almost maniacal. But, he was her father! Not some maniac! He'd never been anything but gentle and quiet with her. Yet she'd seen him shoot a man. In cold blood! This was, for Karen, all too surreal. She'd known her father had a troubled past. There were times, in the house, that he'd gone almost silent for days at a time. Her mother had told her little, very little. But that was different somehow. Those sullen depressions she'd seen him in when she was a girl weren't this... this... Wildman!
He looked back off into the grass, as the pursuing cars neared the pavement. He watched in his mirror as he pulled away. As their pursuers made the turn behind him, he saw the distant headlights of that blue car come on.
Karen looked over at him as they ran south. "What's going on Daddy? What is this all about? What kind of trouble have you gotten into?"
"We can't talk about this now Karen." he replied quietly. "The only thing I can tell you is, this isn't about me... or you... It's just... It just is. I didn't have any choice. I can explain it all to you, when we have time. But, right now, I have to concentrate on just keeping us whole, understand?"
Karen looked at her father, who seemed to have relaxed a bit from that 'manic' state she'd seen. "No! I don't understand! But if I've no option, I guess I'll wait."
"Thanks girl." Ben replied, and reached across to squeeze her hand.
That's when she noticed the blood all over his hand and sleeve. "You're all bloody. Oh My God! You are shot!"
Ben looked down at his arm. That blank look slid across his face as he looked at his hand and outstretched fingers. When he looked back at her with those dead eyes, he replied; "Nah. Don't worry about me Darlin'... that ain't mine."
Karen, watching the changing faces of the man she thought she knew, sat in silence just watching him as his eyes shifted between the road ahead and the cars pursuing them in the rear view mirror.
Occasionally, after taking a looking back, he'd softly say; "Good, still hangin' on back there" and smile.
She just shook her head in wonder. Her own heart had not yet retuned to normal. Her mind was still terrified. She'd been kidnapped. Thought she was going to be raped. They'd been shot at. She'd seen a man die. And now her father sat in the car hurtling down the highway, pursued by men trying to kill them, covered in blood, as if he was leading a Sunday procession to a pic nic!
They rolled back into and through the western outskirts of the city at over 70 mph. Ben knew Tyrone didn't want police complications any more than he did. He hoped that this early in the morning, there'd be few cruisers out this far.
As they made the turn onto the highway leading west, the first streaks of grey began to lighten the eastern sky. The small string of cars, the red Saturn, followed by a black Escalade, a white van, a black Yukon and a quarter mile back, a blue Chevy sedan all made the turn and rolled west toward MacDonald Pass.
The day had lightened to full daybreak by the time Ben turned the car onto the forest road he'd run down the previous afternoon. He was pushing too hard and the car almost slid off into the bar ditch.
He looked over at Karen, wide eyed once again, and laughing again said; "Oops! Guess I should slow down a lil' bit huh?"
Karen just sat in her seat. She had one hand braced against the console, one against the roof pillar, and her feet against the floor. Terrified, confused and head spinning she was completely off balance.
He accelerated up the wide gravel road. The car seemed to slide all over the road. All her father said, looking at her with an easy grin on his face was; "Guess they don't build these for four wheelin' huh Babe?"
A couple miles after leaving the pavement Ben looked over at a camp, located back against the trees on the backside of a long meadow, off the side of the forest road and said; "Good, they're not home."
His daughter, still not used to his unexplained, unexpected, seemingly meaningless comments, and totally unprepared for the terrors of the last 48 hours, finally broke. With her voice rising and becoming more shrill with each question she raged at him; "Who's not home? What are you talking about? Where are we going? What the hell is going on? This is too much, it's all too God Damn much! Talk to me damn it! Talk to me! Are we going to die today?"
Ben looked across the small car as they hurtled up the road. He thought for a few seconds and then told her; "To tell you the truth daughter, I don't know. I'm workin' real hard to not have that outcome. But... things can go wrong."
"That's so comforting! I may die today, and you don't really God Damn know?!" Her breeding seemed to be finally finding its footing. Her fear was starting to turn into anger. A little bit of her Ol' Dad seemed to be rising up in her.
"Well, now how's that a way to talk to your Daddy?" Ben grinned.
"Jesus Dad. Mom was right!"
Startled, Ben asked her, as they raced through the morning light; "What? What did your Momma tell you?"
"She said... Dad... that sometimes, you were just a tiny bit", she held up the forefinger and thumb of one hand up, about a quarter of an inch apart. "NUTS!"
Ben looked out the windshield and thought for a second before he replied. "Your Momma is the only woman who has ever really known me girl." He looked down for a moment and smiled, and yeah, she was likely right. Maybe even more than she realized."
"So, tell me Daddy" she asked, her voice softening; "Where are we going."
Again, Ben looked up ahead. He looked back in the rear view mirror at the pursuing cars, coming fast, and then back up ahead. Less than a quarter mile ahead, he could see where the road made a hard turn to the right. As it came out of the turn it started to climb up a mountainside. From just before the turn to quite a ways after, the road ran between the high bank of a creek bottom that fell away on the right and the mountainside rising up on the left.
"You know Karen, if I had to guess, not too much farther." He looked at her and she cringed when she saw, yet again, a flash of that maniacal grin she'd seen earlier.
They raced into that turn at a speed that heaved her stomach into her throat. She'd never gone so fast on so narrow a road in her life.
The car raced into the turn, sliding almost out of control, against the slope on the outside, then careening back across, almost sliding over the edge into the creek.
When he mumbled, almost under his breath; "Yeah... this is where I'd do it..." She felt the bile of fear rise up in her throat. She swore her father seemed to duck a little as they came out of the turn. When they came out, as she watched him, his eyes were riveted to the rear view mirror.
She was trying to watch the pursuing cars, over her left shoulder, as they careened up the road, when she'd heard his mumbled words.
She looked over at him and just as she managed to choke out; "Do what?" a flash accompanied by a thundering Boom made her duck involuntarily. Gravel rattled off the car.
Instantaneously, the crash of rapid, semi-automatic, rifle fire pounded in he
r ears for many seconds.
When she managed to sit up and look back, all she could see was smoke and dust... and hear the continued thundering crash of gunfire.
Beside her, Ben was repeating the same word; "Yes... Yes... Yes..." as he pounded his bloody hand on the wheel. When she looked up at his face, it was as if a wildfire was raging in his eyes.
In an unexpected action, he slammed on the brakes and the car, anti-lock brakes hammering, slid to a stop. He shoved the gearshift into reverse, hit the accelerator and threw up fresh dust speeding backwards! Back toward the conflagration behind them!
"What are you doing?" She screamed at him. "What are you doing? Are you crazy? Stop!" she screamed, grabbing at his arm.
Ben did stop, but not before backing up to a point less than a hundred yards from the bend.
"Stay put." he commanded. "You stay right here" he said again, harder, and then climbed out of the car.
Ben limped to the rear of the car, and several steps back toward the smoke and dust still hanging over the road, less than a hundred yards behind the car.
He stood there in the road, not moving, not speaking.
Behind them in the dust, Karen heard more shots. Slow, spaced, somehow softer shots, than the recent crash of gunfire that had assaulted her ears. One, two, three, four, five... and then an eerie silence, as the smoke and dust, slowly drifted.
Out of the dust and smoke, two men walked. They were dressed in military fatigues, and both carried military looking rifles. They walked, warily, on either side of the road, toward Ben, moving maybe 15 or 20 yards before stopping. Ben stood, unmoving, hands at his sides as they approached.
When they halted, the three men stood soundless, unmoving, just looking at each other.
Slowly, in an unmistakably solemn manner, Ben Jensen brought himself to the military position of attention. With equal solemnity, his right hand rose to the brim of his cap, in salute.
