by Peter Darley
Brandon glanced over the parapet and quickly calculated the architecture of the building. There had to be a door down there that would lead them back inside. Tyler, Emily, and Jed were inside.
He took the bulbous spider cable device from his belt and aimed it toward a steel rafter positioned across the middle of the bay. With the touch of a button, the cable shot out of the casing and wrapped around the beam. The metallic claw at the end of the line clasped around the wire. Gripping the cable tightly, he leaped from the catwalk, and swung down to the ground.
As he landed, he saw the first trafficker heading for the door at the far end, and opened fire. The man appeared to almost dance to the repeated impact of bullets shooting through his body. Finally, he fell to the floor in a river of blood.
The others turned and fired at Drake. Several bullets struck the Kevlar, knocking him back behind one of the limousines. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Spicer and the soldiers arriving on the catwalk as he exchanged fire from behind the car. The traffickers quickly adopted the same strategy and used the cars for cover.
The troopers aimed into the bay and took out three traffickers before heading down the steps.
Tyler followed Jed across the stage to the left side behind the wings, leaving the trembling customers behind in the bar area. The sound of gunfire continued to ring out from the arrival bay above.
Jed raised his machine gun to eye level and carefully edged along the side of the stage.
Rapidly, he spun around, aiming the gun into the clearing. The women and children stood before them, barely awake.
Two American guards raised their hands in surrender.
“Get on your knees and place your hands behind your heads,” Jed said.
They complied without hesitation.
Tyler came backstage into the clearing. His gaze immediately fell upon little Tiffany, the first child he’d witnessed being auctioned. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She appeared to be utterly terrified. The drugs that had been administered to her seemed to be wearing off.
He hurried over to her and knelt down, taking her hands into his own. “Hey, hey. It’s OK,” he said in a soft, comforting tone. “Everything’s gonna be fine now, Tiffany. My name’s Tyler.” He gestured to Crane. “That’s my friend, Jed. We’re gonna get you out of here and back to your family.” He looked up at the other captives and smiled confidently. “All of you. You don’t know it, but we’ve all got a big brother upstairs, and right now he’s taking care of the bullies.”
Tiffany threw her arms around Tyler, and he held her tightly, a lump forming in his throat. Picking her up, he looked around at the others, studying their faces, one by one.
Jed approached him. “It’s all clear, Tyler. Let’s take them back upstairs. Brandon and I got in through a door at the rear of the building. We can get them all outside via the stairwell.”
Tyler didn’t respond. He simply stood, holding the little girl, horrified.
“Hey, Tyler? What’s wrong?” Jed asked.
“I-it can’t be.”
“What can’t be?”
“I saw her come back here, dammit! I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Emily. I saw her leave the stage and come back here, but she’s gone.”
Without hesitation, Jed trained his machine gun on the two guards. “Where is she, you bastards?”
The two men shook their heads, trembling.
“I said where the hell is she?”
Forty-Five
Warzone
The battle in the arrival bay raged. The soldiers dispatched the traffickers at the back while Brandon fired at those who were closer to the front. Within minutes, blood spattered the floor and dripped from the limousines. Brandon emptied the bullets in the machine gun, cast it down, and resumed the exchange with one of his machine pistols.
Corpses were strewn across the bay in a reflection of the horrors of war. The faces of the deceased were simply no longer—a ghastly display of gaping craters revealing the nauseating vision of crimson-soaked skull bone and brain remnants.
Brandon emerged from behind the limousine in search of the remaining traffickers.
“Drake!” David said.
Brandon looked up to see one of the traffickers on the opposite side of the aisle with his machine gun raised. He dived out of range at the moment the trigger was squeezed. The bullets struck the fuel tank of one of the limousines, and the car exploded.
The soldiers threw themselves onto the floor, but the force of the explosion hurled Brandon across the bay. His body crashed into the front entrance doors, loosening his helmet. It rolled out of his reach as he landed.
From his position on the floor, Spicer shot the gunman, striking him squarely in the back of the head. “Drake, that’s the last of them. You OK?”
Brandon shook his head in an attempt to regain his senses.
The rear entrance door latch clicked open, and Emily appeared with Mae Ling holding a gun to her temple.
Brandon looked up from the floor and raised himself a few inches. He tilted his head, not entirely sure if he was dreaming. She looked so much like him, he was mesmerized.
Emily looked back at him and their gazes locked. Even through the clear haze of narcotics, she muttered, “Br-brother.”
Tears filled Brandon’s eyes. Of all the mysteries of his past life, she was the last piece of the puzzle.
“If any one of you makes a single move, I swear I will blow her fucking brains out!” Mae Ling said.
“No!” Brandon cried, panic-stricken.
He saw the soldiers lowering their firearms, and David’s expression sank into the anguish of defeat.
Using Emily as a shield, Mae Ling moved sideways toward an iron door in the far left-hand corner of the parking area. She passed a large key she’d had palmed next to her pistol’s cartridge holder into her other hand, her eyes fixed on the soldiers.
As she reached the door, she gripped Emily tightly with her right arm and held the gun against her breast. She glanced at the door for a split second before inserting the key into the lock.
Brandon saw the soldiers staring at her bitterly as she fumbled around twisting the key. She didn’t avert her gaze from them.
Mae Ling pushed the door open before bringing the pistol back to Emily’s temple.
Brandon watched with a sinking feeling in his heart as they disappeared through the door.
Once outside, Mae Ling kicked the door shut and locked it.
“Let her go.”
She froze at the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked next to her ear.
“Drop the gun.”
Belinda kept the .45 trained on Mae Ling, while Nikki stepped in front of her. “Give it to me!”
Bitterly, Mae Ling handed the gun over. “You.”
“So, you remember me, Mae Ling.”
“Of course. The one that got away.”
Nikki trained Mae Ling’s gun on her. “And the one who took you down. Without me, they never would have found you.”
Belinda came around to face Emily and gently held her by the shoulders.
“She’ll be drugged,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Belinda took Emily’s face in her hands. “My God, your similarity to Brandon and Tyler is incredible. It’s all right, Emily. Come with us. We’re going to get you to safety.”
Nikki pressed the gun to Mae Ling’s chest. “Give me the door key.”
“What?”
“Give. Me. The. Door. Key.”
Reluctantly, Mae Ling complied.
Nikki unlocked the side door and opened it. “Get in.”
Mae Ling trembled. “Look, maybe we can work something out.”
“I already have. I’ll let the troopers and this poor girl’s brothers deal with you. Now get back in there.”
Trembling, Mae Ling re-entered the arrival bay. She heard the click of the door locking behind her and turned around slowly. The arrival bay was deserted and filled with s
moke from the burning limousine. As the smoke drifted toward her, she knew she had to get out of there.
She hurried along the back wall to the door and sealed herself inside, away from the fumes. She knew she was in the safest place. The soldiers had most likely gone outside to intercept her and rescue Emily. She ran along the corridor, down the spiral staircase, and into the bar.
The cowering bidders looked upon her questioningly. None of them knew she was their anonymous host, and she had no words for them. For the first time in her life, she felt truly helpless.
Tyler and Jed led the captives out through the open back door and around the building toward the street. The women and children were delirious, and the journey was slow. Jed monitored them from the rear while Tyler led them from the front.
Tyler felt angst-ridden. He was leading every one of them to safety, except his sister.
As they came to the front of the building, he spotted Belinda and Nikki walking past the Humvee with another. “Hey!”
They turned around and his heart leaped at the sight of Emily. “Oh, dear God, you’ve got her,” he said, and ran to them.
“H-hello,” Emily said.
“H-hi, Sis.” Tyler sobbed, wrapping his arms around all three of them. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Brandon, David, and the soldiers came around the building with the two stunned guards from the back door in custody.
Jed made his way over to them. “Everything’s fine, gentlemen. They’re all out.”
“All of them?” Brandon said.
Jed smiled proudly. “Yeah. Every last one, including Emily.” He pointed to the cluster of Tyler, Belinda, Nikki, and Emily in an emotional embrace.
Brandon noticed Belinda looking across at him and ran to her. He raised his visor and she hugged him with overwhelming relief.
“You made it, baby. You made it,” she said joyously.
“Yeah, babe. I did.”
Clearing his throat awkwardly, David appeared.
“Hi, David,” Belinda said.
He smiled, although with a curious hint of sadness. “Hi, Belinda. It’s good to see you again.”
Jed held out his hand for Brandon. “Until next time, buddy.”
Brandon smiled appreciatively, wondering what life held in store for his fugitive ally. “Thank you, Jed. For everything.”
Crane nodded cordially and walked away while Brandon turned his attention to his family.
Jed returned to the back of the building, ran back up the rear stairwell, and down the back steps to the bar area.
Before the last turn, he heard the fearful mumblings of the bidders. What he’d seen was beyond evil.
He set the satchel down on a step mid-way down, reached inside, and took out the C4 time bomb Garrett had left under his motel bed. He’d pre-set the explosive for a four minute delay, which would give him enough time to get out.
After he inserted the wire connection into the back of the device, the countdown began.
Running back up the stairwell, he discarded the machine gun on the floor. He quickly arrived at the rear steps and hurled himself down, three at a time.
By the time he was outside, his heart was pounding. He could hear the police sirens coming closer and knew Wilmot and Garrett would be with them.
Looking to his left, he noticed a line of ships in the harbor. The vessel that was farthest away was preparing to set sail. He instantly realized he’d been provided with the perfect opportunity to stow away. Having no idea where it was heading, he felt confident he’d figure out a plan when it arrived at its destination. At least he would be out of Wilmot’s reach.
Summoning all of his remaining energy, he sprinted toward the ship, never looking back.
Forty-Six
Swan Song
Brandon eagerly made his way toward Emily, but a hand on his shoulder halted him in his tracks.
“Brandon, I need to talk to you,” David Spicer said.
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“Where’d that guy who was helping your brother go?”
“Who? You mean Jed?”
“I never got his name.”
Brandon looked around. “I have no idea where he went.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s ex-intelligence. He saved my life a few days ago. He’s certain the director of his department is corrupt, and that he arranged for the murder of the former director.”
“What’s this new director’s name? Do you know?”
“Wilmot. He’s kinda like my arch enemy.”
Spicer’s face became pallid. “Oh, Jesus.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Brandon, Wilmot is the one who had us brought here. We’re under orders to bring you in.”
Brandon turned sharply. The police sirens were almost upon them.
And then the helicopters appeared above.
***
Mae Ling wandered surreptitiously across the bar area keeping a distance from the bidders, determined not to identify herself. If they were to be taken in by the authorities, they would point the finger at her without hesitation. Now, they too, were the enemy.
Shrewdly, she eased her way back to the stairwell. Now that the soldiers had cleared out, she knew her only chance of escape was the back exit. And only then, on the slim chance it was unmanned.
Creeping onto the steps, she turned onto the main flight, and saw the bomb before her. She had only a moment to notice the digital readout—the last thing she would ever see:
0:01
The incendiary annihilated the bar area, the stairwell, and everyone within. Fire spread through the auditorium, the force of the explosion causing a section of the arrival bay to collapse onto the lower level.
The explosion shook the earth outside. Brandon and the soldiers lost their footing momentarily in what seemed like an earthquake.
The police cars stopped in the street outside the entrance to the harbor. Wilmot, Garrett, and Chief Tepper hurried out.
David turned back to Brandon. “Did Jed do that?”
“I guess so, but don’t expect me to shed a tear. David, you’ve got to get all personnel away from here. The fires are gonna rise up into the parking area. Those limos are filled with gasoline. It’s gonna be like Napalm.”
Spicer nodded sullenly. “I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do for you, buddy.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get the boys away from here. And warn those cops.”
“What about you? The place is surrounded.”
“Everything’s been taken care of. Now, go!”
David ran to Tepper, Wilmot, and Garrett. “Gentlemen. Ma’am. You have to back away. An incendiary has been detonated inside the building. With the limousines in there, there’s the risk of an imminent incident.”
Tepper turned to one of the younger officers behind him. “Where the hell is the fire department?”
“They’re on their way, sir.”
Garrett pointed to Brandon sprinting across the yard to the wire mesh fencing. “Look. Drake’s getting away.”
Wilmot grasped Spicer’s arm. “Get after him, soldier.”
Belinda and Tyler ran to David’s side.
“Oh, God. What’s he doing, Tyler?” Belinda said.
“I don’t know, but I sure as hell hope he does.”
David sank into the pits of regret and dilemma. With a heavy heart, he gathered his men and raced in pursuit of Drake.
Brandon grasped the laser torch from his belt and aimed it at the wire mesh. The beam cut through the metal with ease, creating a separation from top to bottom.
Glancing behind for the briefest moment, he saw his reluctant friend and the five soldiers gaining on him.
The walls of the fish factory blew out, and the troopers dropped to the ground. Brick, plaster, and metal jettisoned across the yard, barely missing them.
With the helicopters above him, Brandon eased himself through the gap in the fence, and ran four yards to the van.
After opening up the back, he tore off his glove, and placed his fingers under the Turbo Swan’s door handle. Programmed to accept his fingertips, the door rose upwards.
He climbed in, put the glove back on, reclined into the seat, and strapped himself in. With the touch of a sensor, the craft was filled with the sound of arena rock from the MP3:
It’s time to break free, I’m gonna break the chains I’m livin’ in . . .
The jets screeched, levitating the machine off the base of the van. He thrust the throttle forward and the Turbo Swan shot out, reaching the end of the road in the space of a heartbeat.
In a spectacular display of aerial aerobatics, he flew upwards, reaching forty feet, and then came back down in a reverse loop before twisting into a straight position.
The three helicopters descended to Brandon’s level. He hovered before them, an electric blue, one-of-a-kind aircraft floating static, as though initiating a face-off.
Abruptly, he shot the Turbo Swan forward between the second and third helicopters. The wind pressure automatically turned them around in Brandon’s direction. In that moment, an aerial chase began.
Flying around the corner, Brandon headed in the direction of the roadblock.
The helicopters ascended in order to clear the buildings on either side of them.
Brandon flew over the blockade and the TV crew. Maintaining a steady speed the helicopters could keep up with, he maneuvered the Turbo Swan through the L.A. traffic, quickly arriving at the Golden State Freeway.
Turning the craft onto its side, he flew between the cars and soared through the underpasses. The myriad lights sped past him, creating an optical illusion of neon streaks.
Exiting a tunnel, he noticed, on the monitor screen, the helicopters had fallen behind. He reduced his speed slightly, giving them the opportunity to get closer.
Within ten minutes, he’d made it halfway to San Diego, and knew it was a far enough distance for him to proceed with his plan.
