I heard voices behind the lights, which lowered.
“Turn around and stay there.”
I did with my hands up.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
After I obeyed that command, I heard the crunch of shoes on the stones approach behind me.
“My partner has a gun pointed right at your head in case you make any sudden moves,” said a voice two feet away.
Rough hands put metallic handcuffs around my wrists. He slipped a black blindfold over my head. Then he fastened the blindfold tight behind my head with an elastic strap.
A little too tight but I was not in a position to complain.
Two hands grabbed each of my arms and led me back to the house. I smiled to myself but did not show it on my face. At least they hadn’t thought to check me for the transponder.
I slipped once as we went up a stair and then walked a hallway. A door opened and rough hands shoved me inside. That happened several times. The next thing I knew, someone forced me onto a chair.
“Tape his ankles.”
Two guys―I assume it was guys―obeyed.
One said, “Ah. An ankle gun.”
He removed it.
Rough hands pulled my arms back and more tape secured them to the back of the chair. I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
Nothing happened for the next minute, at least nothing I could see.
Then a pair of hands tore off the tape from my left wrist and removed my comm. Then those same hands reattached my arm to the chair.
I heard a snap closure.
“Your comm is in a box. Now no one can hear what we say.”
Then something happened I least expected. Someone removed my blindfold. The son of bitch Hoskins sat in front of me with Coocher to his right. Now I knew they intended to kill me. They wouldn’t want to leave a witness.
I saw Coocher’s arm cross his chest with a pistol in his hand. A sharp pain tore into my right cheek. That must have been what hit my cheek.
“Why did you bring another man along? Where is he?”
“I had to have somebody spell me on the long drive,” I answered. “He’s just a friend.”
“How did you knock out my guards at the gate so fast?”
I looked at Coocher and saw he was winding up to give me another pistol whipping. So I quickly added, “I used to be a cop on Earth.”
Coocher paused.
“Cops don’t learn those kinds of tricks.”
“Then I went into private practice.”
The MP nodded. “Ah. Dirty stuff.”
Who was I to argue?
I nodded.
“So you thought you’d just walk in here and shoot everybody, eh?” asked Coocher. He let me have another of his pistol whips.
Damn! That hurt!
After I caught my breath, I said, “I figured you’d be overconfident and lax on security. After I scouted the place, I was hoping I could get in, kill you, and get out before anyone knew something was amiss.”
“Well, we may be country folks in your view but we know a thing or two about security. Had a good teacher.”
“YSA?” I asked.
That brought another pistol whip to my face. Seconds later, I tasted the salt of my blood.
Hoskins stepped forward and ripped the front of my shirt open. He used a pair of green-handled scissors to cut the edges of my shirt and soon I was stark naked above the waist.
“Well, well. What have we here?” he asked.
I wish he hadn’t done that. There went my plan. Now I was alone.
He yanked the transponder from my chest, ripping the tape from my skin. He placed it in the same box as my comm. Then he grinned as he put on a set of metallic loops with holes for his fingers. Good ol’ brass knuckles. He raised his right arm behind him and let me have it in the gut.
Even though I expected it, I strained against the back of my chair.
That hurt worse than my face.
After that blow, came two more, also to my abdomen. If he kept that up, my kidneys would burst. I looked down and but didn’t see any blood on my belly.
Hoskins stepped back. “Can I kill him now, boss?”
“Any last requests?” asked Coocher.
I blurted out, despite the searing pain in my gut, “People who do crime cannot talk about their accomplishments. They love to brag about what they’ve done but most of the time they can’t tell others.”
I looked up into Coocher’s face.
“That was quite a bold accomplishment.”
I paused “For the sake of my own curiosity, tell me how you did it.”
“About what?” asked Coocher.
“How you got the virus into the public water, for one.”
“Well, since you’re alone and you’re gonna die soon, why not? That was easy. Hoskins did it.”
I turned my head to his henchman. I coughed up blood. “Care to explain?”
“Sure,” the man grinned with his revolver pointed at my face. “I got the floor plan off the Net and went to the Public Water Works dressed as a cop, to avoid attention. It was easy to avoid prying eyes while your alien ambassador gave a speech. Nobody noticed when I slipped downstairs. They were all paying attention to that little dark alien. Some security! I poured four bottles of the virus in a large tank.”
I looked at Coocher. “And you ordered this…killing thousands of innocent people?”
“They’re not so innocent,” replied the Member of Parliament. “Most of them are frickin’ liberals.”
“What about those who would have voted for it and died?”
Coocher shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped. Call it collateral damage.”
“One last thing,” I asked my captors, “Who ordered my daughter kidnapped?”
Coocher grinned. “That was my idea. That bitch was swinging voters against my bill. I had to know what she knew.”
“Then you planned to kill her, right?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, couldn’t be helped. We weren’t going to leave any witnesses.”
“Okay, Q and A is over.” Hoskins approached my head with his gun.
A voice called out, “Guy, can I speak with you?”
Gancha?
Coocher shook his head. “Not now!”
That same feminine voice said, “It may be better to keep him alive.”
Coocher sighed before he looked at Hoskins. “I’d better hear what she has to say. Come with me. Leave him for now. We can always finish the job later.”
The two men walked out of the room and Hoskins flipped a switch, leaving me in total darkness.
I had one chance. Maybe, just maybe, Ron could hear me.
“Ron?” I yelled.
But I was greeted with silence.
Crap!
Chapter 50
I waited like that, in pain and in darkness for maybe two minutes. Then I heard a shot from the next room. Seconds later, the door opened and light flooded in. Whoever opened the door turned on the light. I bowed my head to protect my eyes from the glare.
Was it going to end like this?
I managed to raise my head to see who my killer was. Probably Hoskins.
Gancha rushed up to me and used a knife to cut through the tape on my legs and wrists.
“What the hell? Why are you here?”
She replied, “Saving your sorry ass. When Guy and Hoskins went out of this room, I pulled a Snap on them. I told them I had recorded their confession, and they had one chance to escape and they’d better take it now. Hoskins raised his hands but Guy made the mistake of pulling his gun out and I shot him in the leg. Hoskins helped him leave. Then I came through the door to your room. I would have preferred to shoot them on the spot but….”
“Why’d you call Coocher by his first name?”
“Can we talk later?” she replied as she finished with my ankles. “Can you walk?”
I stood but my belly hurt so much I groaned.
Gancha grabbed one of my arms as I tried to stand.
<
br /> “Where’s the exit?” I asked.
“Over there,” she answered and pointed with one hand.
I looked at Gancha’s furled eyebrows. I would have preferred to walk on my own but I hurt too much.
“Hand me your Snap,” I said. “Can you carry me out of this damned house?”
She gave me her gun before placing her left arm under my knees and the other behind my back. I didn’t resist her help and put my left arm around her neck. She lifted me up with ease. Her extra Binger strength came in handy.
“Can you tag Ron?” I asked.
“Not while carrying you,” Gancha replied.
“Okay, put me down.”
She did and I kept her Snap pointed in the direction we had walked.
She pressed a few buttons on her comm, and raised it to her mouth. “Ron?”
“Yeah,” he responded. After a second, he added, “Gancha?”
“I’ll explain later. First we need to get Jake out of here. We’re in the basement.”
“I’ll shoot my way in,” said the voice of Ron on her comm. “Keep your comm on so I can zero in on its signal.”
She picked me up again and I kept her Snap pointed toward the doorway.
I heard the chatter of a machine gun in the distance, followed by an explosion.
Piles of boxes along the walls greeted us but Gancha carried me through them. When we got to the door to the stairs, she turned around to put her back against it.
“Watch behind me,” she said as she cracked open the door.
We had the stairwell to ourselves and she lumbered up with me in her arms.
When we got to the main floor, she set me down and cracked the door to see who might be on the other side. Then she returned and lifted me again. She put her back to the door and swung it open while I pointed the gun ahead of us.
As we entered another hallway, I heard a loudspeaker in the distance.
“Jake! Where are you?”
I yelled back, “Coming! We’re on the ground floor near the front door.”
“Stand back! I’m crashing through the door,” said Ron’s voice from far away.
Gancha leaned against one wall with me in her arms.
I heard a bumptey-bump sound. Maybe from the van climbing the stairs.
In seconds, the front door burst open and I saw the front of our van. Ron sat in the driver’s seat. When he saw us, he opened his door, and rushed up with his right hand carrying a semiautomatic gun.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“My stomach hurts like hell but I’ll make it. Let’s get outta here!”
Ron stood guard while Gancha carried me into the van and rested me on a bunk.
She closed the sliding door and soon I heard Ron get in the driver’s side. In seconds, we moved backward. The van spun around and Ron drove us down the stairs. Bumptey-bump. My stomach hurt with each bump and I heard several pings on the back door. This was one time when I was glad we had reinforced the outside of the van with armor.
I lurched as the van tore off toward the gate. Gancha fell on her butt.
#
“Let’s go back to Zor,” I said.
“What about Coocher and Hoskins?” Gancha asked.
“I doubt…if we can catch them,” I said between pants of breath. My stomach ached. “They’re in friendly territory…and must have a place to hide. We’re better off giving…their confessions to the news.”
“Too bad our comms don’t reach to Zor,” added Ron.
Ron turned onto the paved Main Street and headed east toward Zor.
Flashing lights came behind us as I put on a shirt.
Ron drove fast without headlights. The road was curvy and that gave me an idea.
“Chima, spread oil slick behind us.”
As Ron drove around one right curve, I looked out the back window. When the flashing lights came up to the curve, they slid to the right and went off the road. Two headlights went one on top of the other. The cop car was on its side.
“The police will have roadblocks.”
“Where do we go?” Ron asked.
“Take the side road on the right.”
We had mapped the escape routes but were not sure we had included all the dirt roads.
When we could see the flashing lights of the road block ahead, Ron slowed and took the right side road.
He said, “There’s a car chasing us.”
A hundred yards down the dirt road, I said, “Stop the car. Gancha, rifle grenade.”
She said, “I’ll get it.”
When our van came to a stop, Gancha had a grenade launcher attached to a rifle and stepped out the back.
I watched her lift the rifle and aim at the curve we had passed earlier. Her grenade used rocket propulsion and had infra-red guidance. It would hone in on the heat of the car behind us.
She fired and the grenade left her rifle. It arched forward into the distance. Two seconds later, I heard the grenade explode. I couldn’t see much from my bed inside the van.
Gancha got back in with a grin and closed the door. “That’s a car full of people who won’t harass anybody anymore.”
Ron tore off down the dirt road and said, “Chima, activate shortwave radio.”
“Activated.”
He added, “Channel Nineteen.” That was the channel that used our BIS encryption.
It took five seconds before the radio said, “Vincent here. Over.”
“We need extracting,” Ron replied. “Get a helo here ASAP. Jake’s hurt from a beating. Coocher and Hoskins got away. We got a confession. Should be enough for the police to put the buggers in a cage.”
Gancha yelled, “I shot Coocher in the leg. Over.”
“Was that Gancha?” asked Vincent. “Over.”
“Yeah,” she replied. “I’ll explain later. Over.”
“Ron, would the York Federal Police be better?” asked Vincent. “They have a large helo. Over.”
“If you can convince them to not arrest us, yeah. Over.”
“What did you do over there?” After a pause, he added, “Over.”
“Oh,” said Ron, “a little thing of killing a few guards who may be on the payroll of Coocher. Over.”
“Is that all?” asked Vincent, adding “Over.”
“We need to get this confession on the news. Over,” said Ron.
“I’ll talk with Stan Curling of the YFP. Stand by.”
I heard Vincent talking with Curling. He must have woken the detective up. I glanced at my comm. It was one in the morning here. That would be four in Zor.
We waited in the dark as we listened to the police band. The van tore down the dirt road. I felt like a criminal when they listen to the police trying to find them.
Vincent came back on. “He’ll need a half hour to get to the helo. He’ll call ahead.”
I yelled, “Can you locate our beam?”
“No problem,” replied Vincent. “You’re coming through loud and clear.”
I said, “How can you hear us?”
“Satellite,” he replied.
At least the snow had stopped. Not that it would block our signal.
“Can you tell Curling we have a confession that will lock up Coocher and Hoskins?” I added.
“I did already,” replied Vincent.
I wanted to know when they might arrive in the vicinity.
“Do you have an ETA?”
“It could be five hours,” replied Vincent.
I turned to my buddy.
“Ron, stop the van. Can you lay a spiked chain across the road?”
“Got it.” He stopped the van and left the driver’s seat. He went in the back. Gancha opened the lid over one of the two bunks. She pulled out a chain in its case.
Ron took it in his gloved hands and exited the van, closing the door behind him.
I looked at Gancha.
“Any time you care to explain would be fine.”
“You want the short version or the long one?”
/> “The short will do for now.”
She sighed and looked down. “I wanted to prove myself to you. When I heard your plan, I knew this was my opportunity. Frankly, your plan sucked. It all depended on Coocher and Hoskins not detecting your transmitter. That was a big risk.”
“But why?” I asked.
She looked me in the eyes. “Jake, I want to be part of your team. This was my chance to prove it.”
Ron opened the driver’s side door and climbed in.
“Done.”
I turned toward him.
“Let’s go a little farther.”
Ron drove us another half mile around a bend.
“Let me have a Z helmet.”
Ron pulled one out from the dashboard. Gancha grabbed it from Ron and handed it to me. Both my partners had theirs on.
After putting the helmet on, I struggled to get up. Gancha lent me her hand as I made my way to back window. My damned stomach ached.
Nothing appeared out there but the black of night. Then headlights appeared, followed by another set. When they got to the spikes, the lights slowed and when they got to the bend, they went off the road. Then they stopped. Maybe the trees got them.
“Chima, connect my helmet to the short wave. All of us.”
“Consider it done.”
Damn Vincent tampering again. I’ll have to talk with him about that.
“Vincent, we’ll try to hold out till the helo gets here. Tell them to rush.”
“Did already.”
I said to Ron, “Let’s go another mile.”
Ron drove without headlights and stopped.
I coughed up blood.
Crap! I’m hurt more than I thought. Will I live through this?
I glanced at my comm. “Helmet, start a countdown until the helo gets here. On Ron’s and Gancha’s helmets too.”
In one corner of my vision, I saw a digital light displayed five hours and ten minutes.
Hope we live that long.
Chapter 51
“Helmet, show me the road ahead.”
The dirt road turned left and right, mostly right. As we moved in the night, I noticed the countdown inched its way to four hours and forty-five minutes.
The road became overgrown. I could understand why. This far from the little village of Chester, road maintenance must take a low priority.
Thank heavens Chima could keep track. Most of the time, the road headed east. A dark mass appeared on the right.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 29
