An Element of Risk

by Don Easton

  Jeremiah gave him an odd look.

  Yeah, that was a dumb thing to say. I’m supposed to be a racist.

  “That way,” Jack added, “it might not make you feel so bad when you do have to pop some low-breed son-of-a-bitch because you’ll know what they’re really like.”

  Jack sensed that Jeremiah was staring at him as he fired a burst of three shots from an M16 — all landing in the central mass of the target.

  I feel like a piece of garbage. Hopefully someday I’ll have an honest talk with you.

  The next hour passed by, then Jack turned to Jeremiah and said, “I’ve had enough. All these are fine weapons.”

  “Glad you think so,” he replied.

  “Should we tear down the targets?”

  “Naw, leave ’em. Zach an’ Luke’ll look after everything.”

  They trudged back to where the vehicles were parked.

  “Good timing,” Reverend Bob said, looking up at the darkening sky. He eyed Jack and said, “So? What do you think?”

  “I think I’ll go with what I picked to start with.”

  “Fine by me. We’ll go back to the bunker, figure out what extras you want, then do the math.”

  “Sounds good.

  “Then first thing in the morning we’ll have you on your way,” he added.

  That sounds even better.

  “Y’all shore you want them pistols?” Zach questioned, ignoring an elbow he received in the ribs from Luke. “Because, man, I ain’t never seen someone that bad with a pistol before.”

  “It was pretty bad,” Jack admitted.

  “Y’all no good with a pistol,” Luke said in an apparent attempt to make him feel better, “but damn, y’all sure good with the long barrels.”

  Zach nodded respectfully. “Yup, there’s no doubt about that. No siree.”

  “You’re right about the pistols, though,” Jack said. “I’d be better off to throw the damn thing at someone than try to shoot them.”

  Reverend Bob chuckled. “Aw, heck, look at me. I’m not that good with a pistol either, but my driving makes up for it!”

  Jack resisted the urge to punch him in the face and instead guffawed with everyone else.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The rest of the afternoon was spent negotiating the overall cost of the weapons along with the accessories and the potential cost for other weapons that Reverend Bob hoped Jack’s people might be interested in.

  “You maybe want to code these figures into your phone so you don’t forget?” Reverend Bob suggested as they discussed the different figures.

  What phone?

  Jack glanced at Reverend Bob. “I don’t like to have a paper trail on something like this. I’ve got a good memory when it comes to numbers.”

  Speaking of which, I’d like to see the view from the tower again.…

  Reverend Bob pursed his lips. “You’re smart. I can see why you were picked.”

  It was 5:30 p.m. when Reverend Bob opened a new bottle of Wild Turkey. After pouring everyone drinks, they toasted their new business relationship.

  “About tomorrow morning,” Jack said, after settling back in the recliner. “I’d planned to meet a friend at Bellis Fair at noon tomorrow, but if possible I’d like to get there an hour or two before so I can do a little shopping.”

  “No problem,” Reverend Bob replied. “I’ll have someone drive you.” He then locked eyes with Jack. “Until the deal is completed, I’ll be staying home.”

  Being robbed is going to be the least of your problems, pal.

  Jack faked a yawn. “I also don’t want another late night like last night. I need to keep my brain sharp if I’m going to remember all those numbers, let alone the different makes and models.”

  Reverend Bob glanced at his watch, then took the hint and rose from his chair. “I’ll heat up some stew and then we’ll have an early night. In the morning I’ll see to it that you’re on the road right after breakfast.”

  “That sounds great.”

  While Reverend Bob busied himself in the kitchen, Jack made small talk with Zach, Luke, and Jeremiah. After a few minutes he’d finished his bourbon and put the glass down.

  “I’ll get you a refill,” Jeremiah offered.

  “Naw, thanks. Maybe later,” Jack replied. “I need to clear my head and go over everything in my mind. I’m going out for a walk and take in some fresh air.”

  “It’s raining and the wind has picked up,” Reverend Bob said from the kitchen.

  “That’s okay,” Jack replied.

  “Are you sure?” Reverend Bob questioned as he peered out the kitchen window. “It’s starting to look a little nasty out there.”

  “I like it like that,” Jack replied. “My jacket’s rainproof. Besides, there’s something about walking in this weather that makes me feel good … more alive.”

  Reverend Bob shrugged. “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’m going to help my dad and set the table,” Jeremiah said as he rose to his feet. “We’ll call you when it’s ready.” He then paused and gestured to the black bearskin rug and said, “Oh, and Jack. You look like a bear in that jacket. Be careful my dad doesn’t shoot you.”

  Jack grinned and gave a wave of his hand in response. A moment later he did his best to appear nonchalant as he wandered into the yard and studied the layout of the land while trying to recall which areas were monitored by cameras and which weren’t.

  Billowing black clouds darkened the already approaching night sky and the wind and rain had intensified. When the motion sensors turned on the overhead spotlights, he knew he didn’t have much time to see what he wanted, so he hustled up the knoll to the tower and quickly climbed the steel rungs to the top.

  * * *

  “That about does it,” Reverend Bob said, turning the heat down on the burner as he continued to stir the stew. He looked toward the living room. “Zach! Stick your head out the door and call Jack. Tell him it’s ready.”

  “I saw him climb up to the crow’s nest,” Jeremiah said. “The wind is gusting pretty good. He might not hear you.”

  “In this weather?” Reverend Bob exclaimed. He peered outside.

  “No worries,” Zach said. “I got his number yesterday when he and Vath were at the restaurant. I’ll phone him.”

  A moment later it became apparent that Zach had made the call, but it wasn’t Jack that he was talking to.

  “What’s going on?” Reverend Bob demanded. “Who’re you talking with?”

  Zach gestured with his hand. “It looks like Jack lost his phone. Got some guy says he found it in his coat pocket.”

  “His coat pocket?” Reverend Bob reiterated. “Let me talk to him.”

  After taking the phone, Reverend Bob’s conversation with the stranger was brief. “Did you happen to be in the Jack in the Box restaurant last night?”

  “Yes,” the stranger replied. “I don’t understand. How did it get into —”

  Reverend Bob cursed vehemently and terminated the call.

  “Dad? What is it?” Jerimiah asked.

  “We’ve been had!” Reverend Bob screamed in rage. “Jack ditched his phone at the restaurant last night! He figured out we knew they were being followed!”

  “Oh, shit,” Zach said. “He’s a fucking cop!”

  “How dare he come here!” Reverend Bob spluttered. “This is my home! Nobody tells me what I can or can’t do! Not here!”

  “What’re we going to do?” Luke asked.

  Reverend Bob didn’t reply. He was already running toward the master bedroom.

  * * *

  As Jack gazed out from the tower, he spotted the arc of light when the bunker door opened. Reverend Bob stepped out first, followed by the others. They then crowded around and looked up at him.

  What are they doing?

  He leaned over the railing and waved. He received an immediate answer to his question when Reverend Bob raised an M16 and let loose.

  Jack gasped and pitch
ed himself backward onto the floor as bullets ripped through the roof, tin railing, and then the floor. In a panic, he shoved himself as far back as he could while frantically fumbling to yank his belt free from his jeans.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Reverend Bob ran up the rocky knoll toward the tower with the others behind him, then paused to fire another burst.

  “Dad!” Jeremiah screamed out. “Look!” he yelled.

  Jack had wrapped the ends of his belt around his wrists and hung on to it as he slid down a cable that was anchored in the ground on the far side of the knoll. He knew the angle was steep, but planned to control his speed by crossing his wrists to tighten his belt around the cable to slow his descent.

  In theory his plan might have worked, but adrenalin, panic, and another burst of bullets made speed his top priority. He hit the ground feet first, but the momentum literally carried him head over heels down the rocky slope.

  He’d managed to put his arms and hands up to protect his face and head as he crashed and rolled, but tendons snapped and tore around one knee.

  After coming to a stop, he guessed that he only had a few seconds as the men charged up the other side of the knoll. The closest patch of bushes and trees was slightly farther down the hill and he scrambled to his feet.

  If he hadn’t been injured, he may have been able to run the short distance in time, but instead he took one step and fell to the ground and grabbed his knee in pain.

  The sound of the men spurred his desperate attempt to escape. He tried to hop down the hill on one foot, but the ground was wet and slippery and he lost his footing when he jumped over a small ledge of rock and fell again.

  He was only a car length away from the foliage, but before he could move, a burst of gunfire sent bullets whizzing above him. It was as if the bushes and trees in front of him were being hit with an invisible lawnmower. The sound of leaves and branches being shredded could be heard in combination with the thunk of bullets and splinters of wood flying off the trunks of trees.

  He instinctively flattened himself on the ground along the side of the ledge. It was only shoulder-width high, so he raised his head slightly and was able to see over. Light cresting the hill from the spotlights in the yard revealed the silhouettes of the four men running down the slope toward him.

  Oh shit, my face will be like a beacon. He ducked back into the shadow and shoved his face into the wet dirt while tucking his hands under his chest to hide their white skin.

  The sound of their feet came closer … then stopped along the ledge above him.

  Do they see me? Is the next bullet going to be in the back of my head?

  His senses had become acute. The wind and rain had subsided, as did the noise it produced. What he heard now was the sound of his own heavy breathing. He forced himself to take slow, even breaths. Then he heard another noise that he couldn’t seem to control.

  I’ve never heard my heart pounding so loud! How is that possible? They’re bound to hear it!

  He heard the men panting heavily as they, too, felt the exertion they’d undergone. Their hearts have to be pounding, too … but how long before they look down and see me?

  The smell of rotten leaves and earth flooded his brain.

  Will this be my last memory?

  Another burst of gunfire caused his body to twitch.

  “Come on,” Reverend Bob said, “he can’t be that far ahead.”

  “Maybe y’all got ’im already,” Luke said.

  Jack heard the thud and felt the vibration of a boot landing near his head as someone leaped over the ledge. Then more footsteps pounded the ground as the men charged past him.

  They didn’t see me!

  He smeared muddy soil onto his face, then turned his head slightly so he could glimpse with one eye. The men were searching along the fringes of the bush. Come on, keep going. Give me a chance to go the other way.…

  “He’s not here, and we’ll never find him like this,” ­Reverend Bob shouted to the others. “Everyone get back to the bunker and grab a weapon. We’ll do this proper.”

  Shit, they’re coming back! This time walking. I’m lying right in front of them! They have to see me! He crammed his body into the shadow of the ledge as tight as he could and watched.

  Reverend Bob, Jeremiah, and Luke passed by him and stepped back onto the ledge, but Zach stopped an arm’s length away from his head and turned to look back at the bushes.

  “You should’ve waited until he came down from the crow’s nest, then shot him,” he heard Jeremiah say.

  Reverend Bob didn’t respond to the comment. Instead he shouted, “You can’t hide for long, Jack! This is my place! I make the laws here! Come out now and we’ll talk!”

  “Dad, you’re all out of breath. You need to calm down.”

  “Don’t you tell me to calm down! I’ll calm down when he’s dead!” Reverend Bob swore under his breath. “Zach! Get a move on. Standing there won’t help.”

  Jack peered up at Zach’s face as he turned around.

  Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Oh, Christ, don’t step on me, either.…

  Zach took a quick leap onto the ledge to join the others.

  Okay, everyone keep going. Keep going.

  “Luke, grab a rifle with a night-vision scope and man the tower,” he heard Reverend Bob order. “I’ll man the cameras in the command centre. Zach … Jeremiah, you two stand by ready to go when he’s spotted. That’s if Luke doesn’t nail him first.” He paused. “Boys, we’re going to get this Judas son-of-a-bitch!”

  As if the damned night-vision cameras aren’t enough, you’re putting a guy up the tower with a night scope, as well? He took a moment to think about his predicament. I’ve got to move, but where?

  As the men headed back up the knoll, he mapped a route out in his head that he hoped, with a great deal of luck, was one he could traverse without being seen. If it worked, it would take him to the edge of the property.

  Then what? The perimeter is completely monitored and there are only open fields beyond. Maybe hide near the gate and hope I can jump whoever decides to leave when they get out to unlock it? He gave a snort. Don’t like the chances of that, but then again, I don’t like my chances lying here either.

  He waited until the men disappeared over the top of the knoll, then followed after them in the hope that they’d expect him to either be going in the opposite direction or be hiding in the bush.

  When he neared the crest, he dropped to a crawl to peek over. He watched as the men approached the bunker, then he eyed the hangar. Making it to that hangar was his next step.

  The front of the hangar and one side was visible from both the tower, as well as a closed circuit television monitor, but he knew the far corner was not visible by either, provided he kept close to the building.

  If he did make it to the hangar, then tried to leave the far corner and head for the bush, there was a stretch of yard to cross that would make him visible from the tower. His hope was that when Luke was in the tower that he’d be looking in the opposite direction.

  Then self-doubt entered his mind. Is there a camera monitoring the ground between the far back corner and the bush? He tried to remember the monitors he’d looked at in the command centre but for a moment he drew a blank.

  Don’t second-guess. Go with your first instinct.

  As the men entered the bunker, he thought, How much time do I have? Five minutes maybe? A glance at the rocky outcrops told him that the quickest way to the hangar was to take the path leading to the bunker, then proceed from there.

  Pain in his knee reminded him of his vulnerability. Can I get down there before they come back outside or Reverend Bob starts watching the monitors? If they all go down to get weapons and more ammunition … damn it, quick talking to yourself and do it.

  He rushed forward, but his knee gave out and he ended up scrambling and rolling down the rocky knoll like a wounded three-legged animal, clenching his teeth as he went to keep from crying out in pain.
>
  When he reached the bottom, he had to pass close to the door of the bunker. It also faced the hangar. The two structures were only a stone’s throw apart, but the yard was well lit so anyone opening the door as he was crossing the yard would see him. There was also another problem. The yard and area surrounding the hangar was gravelled — which meant it could not be crossed in complete silence.

  You can do it. You can do it, he said to himself as he hobbled and lurched his way across the yard. He was rounding the back of the hangar when he heard the bunker door open, followed by voices. Close. Too close.

  He knelt to make his head less visible and peeked around the corner. Zach, Luke, and Jeremiah had come out of the bunker. All were carrying weapons. The distinctive barrels of Zach and Jeremiah’s weapons identified them as M16s, capable of firing forty-five to sixty rounds a minute when on semi-automatic. They were also deemed 100 percent accurate at a distance of three hundred metres.

  Luke’s weapon was different and was of a type Jack had fired earlier in the day. It was an M110 semi-automatic sniper rifle equipped with a night-vision scope — considered effective at eight hundred metres. To top it off, Luke had a set of binoculars dangling from his neck. Oh yeah, they’ll be night-vision as well.

  Luke slung the rifle over his shoulder and trotted up the knoll toward the tower, but Zach and Jeremiah took another direction and walked toward the hangar.

  Jack ducked out of sight. By their voices, he knew they’d stopped close by. He glanced behind him. His plan to make a run for the treeline would have to wait. The gravel at the back of the hangar wasn’t as compacted and he knew the crunch of his steps would give him away.

  Okay, so I’ll wait until they go back inside. Luke won’t hear me once he’s up the tower — and will hopefully be looking away from here.

  “So, you don’t think anyone else knows about us?” he heard Zach say.

  “We really put him through the ropes before we met him,” Jeremiah replied. “Once he ditched his phone, I don’t see how anyone would know. It was after that when we met up with him.”

  “Yeah, and I didn’t find one when I searched his backpack. I figured Luke would’ve noticed he didn’t have it on him when he searched ’im, but I guess he figured it was in the backpack. Either way, he didn’t have a second phone.”