Cornerstone (Phantom Squad Series Book 1)

by J. M. LeDuc

  Ten minutes before the designated time, Brent was close to where his friends were being kept. He lay on his belly and peered around a stone outcropping. What he saw made him catch his breath. All of his men were beaten and bloodied. Alana had been beaten and the front of her uniform had been torn. President Dupree lay unconscious. The only positive was that their gags had been removed and he could hear what they were saying.

  “How much time we got left?” Jefferson mumbled through his busted lips.

  “Not much,” Seven answered. He spit blood from his mouth before continuing. “There has been a lot more activity in the last few minutes. They’ll be back soon.”

  Brent watched as Fitzpatrick tried to open his swollen eyes. He could see that a couple of his teeth were cracked.

  “The colonel?” he sputtered.

  His ribs must be broken, Brent thought.

  His voice strained as he tried to continue. “Do you think he got the message?”

  Seven looked around at his beaten and tired men. “If I know Joan,” he said, “he got the message.”

  Alana rolled toward him. “Let’s just pray he got it in time.”

  Seven nodded.

  Brent could see that Scarlet stayed out of the conversation. She hovered over her father protecting him.

  Brent wanted to alert them, but he knew if he did they might change their disposition. He couldn’t chance it. He had to wait and let the mission unfold as planned.

  At o-one hundred hours and fifty-seven minutes, Brent’s SAT phone vibrated. The go sign from Tag telling him all was ready on his end. Brent pushed the send button, letting him know that he too was ready. He thought of Seven and smiled. Time to open a can of whoop-ass.

  Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he watched as two men walked back into the cave. One was old and wearing a throbe and a long grey beard covered his face. Omar. The other made Brent catch his breath. The man was older, but there was no denying who he was. Brent bit hard on his tongue, drawing blood as his anger percolated.

  Brent wormed his way back into the dark corner where he had been hiding and heard the first explosion at the far end of the cave system.

  “What the hell was that?” Omar screamed.

  “We’ve got visitors,” Jensen smirked. “Get all your men here at once. That was Venturi’s calling card.”

  Omar reached for his walkie-talkie as the next explosion knocked him sideways.

  Anger encompassed his face. “I have no transmission,” he snarled.

  “Check all the frequencies.”

  Omar was ashen. He shook his head. “The radio is dead.”

  Before Falcon could speak, Omar ran out of the room as the next charge erupted. With this explosion, rock and dirt rained down on them.

  Falcon reached for and grabbed the president and attempted to heft him over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving without leverage.” He pulled President Dupree to his feet and began to heft the unconscious man over his shoulder when suddenly a Chinese steel star was embedded in his shoulder. He diverted his attention toward the piercing pain when a second found its way into his wrist. His hand went limp and he dropped the president to the ground.

  His face was crimson with fury as he screamed. “Show yourself, Venturi.” He snapped his head one way and then the other as spittle flew from his mouth.

  The next blast filled the opening to the cave as Brent walked through like a spirit walking through a mist.

  “Here I am, Private Jensen.”

  Falcon’s complexion turned a hue of reddish-purple. He despised being called Private Jensen. His shoulders rose toward his ears as his rage escalated. He eyed Seven and kicked dirt in his eyes. “This piece of dung was no match for me.” He jerked his head toward his shoulder eliciting a loud crack. He repeated the move to the other side. “How ‘bout I whip your ass?”

  Seven watched as Falcon grabbed his gun. He began to warn Brent when suddenly something knocked the gun from Falcon’s hand. He swiveled his head and watched as a young man stood at the other opening with a long stick in his hands. Lieutenant Achak, Seven thought.

  He looked back at Brent and saw a similar one in his hands.

  “Want some help, Colonel?” Tag asked.

  “What’s our time?” Brent asked as Jensen began to circle him.

  “Two minutes before this mountain comes down on us.”

  Brent didn’t flinch at Tag’s words. “Untie my men and get them out of here.”

  Jensen pulled a long knife from its sheath and eyed Brent. “You ain’t leaving the party alive,” he spat.

  Brent took his staff and began to twirl it in front of him. The faster it spun the more of a whirling noise it made. “Do you think I would have come all this way not to dance?”

  Tag untied the squad and lifted President Dupree over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry position. “Thirty seconds, Colonel.”

  “Get moving. You know what you need to do.”

  Another explosion erupted and the cave began to fall apart like a deck of cards.

  “But, Colonel . . .”

  “Now, Lieutenant. That’s an order!”

  Seven grabbed Tag by the shoulder. “You need to lead us out of here or we all die. Let’s move out. Now.”

  Tag dropped his head in defeat. He nodded and led the squad out of the cave.

  Falcon smiled as rock continued to rain down into the cave. “It’s just you and me.”

  Brent nodded. “The way you always wanted it. The way it had to be. Isn’t that right, Private?”

  Hearing Brent call him ‘private’ made his blood boil. He flipped the knife in his hand, held the blade and readied his aim. He cocked his arm back and just as he was about to let the knife fly toward Brent, the explosives closest to them blew. The cave collapsed, knocking them both down and pinning Brent under the rubble.

  Jensen slithered out of the collapsing cave just as it all came down on top of Brent.

  Brent looked up from his pinned position as the ceiling of the cave came down on top of him.

  His world went black.

  CHAPTER 62

  Tag and the squad made it out of the mountain just as the final explosion caused the cave to implode on itself. When they emerged from the rubble, they saw the members of the Brotherhood who had made it out of the mountain before it collapsed. The terrorists lucky enough to escape were handcuffed, gagged and surrounded by a bunch of monks and a few Pakistanis.

  Seven looked to Tag for an explanation. “Lieutenant Achak, who are these men?”

  Tag, exhausted from the escape, laid President Dupree on the ground. Scarlet dropped next to her father and gently caressed his face.

  Looking like a man who had seen too much death, Tag hung his head as he spoke. “These men are Brother Gregory and the brothers of the Khor Virap Monastery and the others are Pakistani knights: members of the Ambassador’s outer circle.”

  Seven cocked his head to the side. “Khor Virap? The monastery at the base of Mount Ararat?”

  Brother Gregory bowed in response.

  Seven squinted through swollen and bruised eyes. “So that’s what the colonel meant when he said he was going back to the beginning.”

  The brothers stood proud.

  “I see you know of our existence,” Gregory said.

  “I know a bit of history, that’s all,” Seven replied. “I’m sure you will fill me in on the rest.”

  “It will be my pleasure,” the older monk said. He scanned Seven with knowing eyes. “And you, you are the one who came before. The Enlightened One’s first trainer.”

  Seven nodded.

  As Brother Gregory spoke, he noticed for the first time that Brent was not among those who emerged from the mountain. “Where is The Ambassador?”

  “He’s not here.”

  They all turned to see Al
ana standing next to the caved in entrance. Tears ran down her cheeks. “He stayed in the cave so we could escape.”

  Confusion swept across Gregory’s eyes. “Can we get to him?”

  Silence.

  Gregory was frustrated at the lack of a response. “There must be something we can do.”

  Everyone turned toward Tag for an answer.

  Sadness and frailty finally broke through the young officer’s demeanor as he lifted his head. “He ordered the charges set so that this would be the only way out.” His eyes brightened with his next words. “But I tried to set them so that a part of the cave system wouldn’t collapse completely—hopefully a backdoor exit.” Before anyone could respond, he continued. “If Brent has any chance of escaping, it will be from within the mountain.” Tag wiped a dirty sleeve across a dirtier mouth. “There is no way to get to him from the exterior without losing more lives.”

  Alana ran to him, pounded her fists on his chest, and screamed, “Don’t you dare say ‘more lives.’ ”

  With a forlorn expression, Tag opened his mouth to speak.

  Before he could they all heard Scarlet yell, “He’s awake. My father is awake!” She placed her fingers on his wrist. “His pulse is weak and thready.”

  Seven trained his thought on the situation at hand. “We need to evacuate the president and see to everyone’s injuries. Then, Tag can tell us what the hell just happened in there.”

  By nightfall, Q had evacuated the squad and President Dupree to a U.S. military hospital in Saudi Arabia. The president was resting comfortably and everyone else’s injuries had been attended to.

  The squad walked into the room where Tag had been debriefed by the Secret Service. “I think it’s time for you to tell us what happened,” Seven said.

  Tag pulled his long black hair away from his face. His eyes red and sunken from exhaustion. “Colonel Venturi and I mounted a two-man attack on the Brotherhood based on my recollection of the cave system.”

  Alana stepped forward. “What do you mean your recollection?”

  “The Lieutenant had been there before,” Seven said, never taking his eyes off of the Lieutenant. “That was the same place you had done recognizance on your last mission, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir. My name is Seven and these soldiers standing behind me are . . .”

  “The Phantom Squad, I know,” Tag said. “I know everything. Brent told me—everything.”

  Seven took a seat by the young man and spoke in a softer tone. “If he trusted you with that information, then I, we trust you with our lives.”

  The squad nodded in unison.

  “I know Brent better than anyone,” Seven said. “He must have detailed his plan to you and told you what to do if he didn’t make it out with the rest of us.”

  Tag took a sip of old coffee. “He never planned to make it out of the cave.”

  Alana, a ball of frayed nerves, clutched Tag’s hair and yanked his head in her direction, forcing him to look into her eyes. “What do you mean he never planned to make it out?” she screamed.

  Scarlet placed her hand on Alana’s shoulder. “Let’s let the lieutenant finish his story,” she intimated.

  Alana unclenched her fist, releasing Tag from her grip. Strands of Tag’s torn hair still hung from her fingers.

  Tag finger combed his hair. “The colonel’s plan was for me to bring you out while he stayed behind to detain Jensen,” he began.

  “He knew Falcon was Jensen? How?” Seven asked.

  Tag shook his head. “I don’t know. The night before the attack, I watched him as he went into one of those trances of his. I sat there in the pitch of night and wondered how he could stay in that position for so long.”

  Seven swallowed. “How long was he under?”

  “Hours,” Tag replied.

  Seven spit in his cup. “That’s not good.”

  “Why?” Tag asked. “I saw him do it for even longer when we were in the monastery.”

  “His mind . . .”

  “His mind . . .” everyone turned to see Brother Gregory standing in the doorway. They watched as he came forward and sat on the other side of Tag. “His mind—his consciousness—was expanded while he was at the monastery. I can assure you he was not in any danger while in his meditative state.”

  Seven packed his lip with tobacco in frustration. “You can’t assure me of nothing, Padre.” His mouth full, he grabbed a bedpan, spit and turned his attention back to Tag.

  “When the colonel told me his plan,” Tag said, “I asked, no I begged him to change it. I told him that there must be another way,” Tag stared up into Alana’s eyes, “but he assured me that his plan was the only way. He said his primary goal was to get President Dupree and his squad out alive.” Alana’s brown eyes, red and dilated, stared back at Tag. “He said that he had never left a comrade behind and he didn’t plan on starting now.”

  Alana wept from despair. She swallowed her tears as she spoke. “What else did he say?”

  “He gave explicit instructions for everyone, but said that were subject to any injuries sustained by the squad.”

  The squad stepped in closer to where Tag was sitting. As if distance would make a difference in what they heard.

  Tag looked at each with respect and admiration and focused on Jefferson, Fitzpatrick and Scarlet before he continued. “He said that Jefferson, Fitz and Scarlet were to accompany President Dupree back to HQ and await further orders.” He turned toward Brother Gregory. “He said to thank Brother Gregory and the brothers of Khor Virap and to tell them that without their help, he never would have made it back from the brink of self-destruction.”

  Brother Gregory closed his eyes as he listened. Hearing Brent’s words, he stood tall and proud.

  Tag stood as he continued to recall Brent’s orders. “He ordered me to take Seven and Alana back to Alpha Camp and wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Alana asked.

  Tag closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked at Seven and Alana. “Brent said that you were to remember the Wailing Wall and do as you were ordered.”

  Seven stood, spit one last time, and addressed his men. “We have been given orders from our leader and we will do as we were told.” He turned and walked out of the room. “Get some shuteye; we break camp at zero four hundred.”

  CHAPTER 63

  It took all of Brent’s strength to blink. As his vision cleared he surveyed his bleak surroundings. Dirt, fallen timbers and rock were all he saw.

  He then turned his attention inward, taking stock of his injuries. He tied to contract various muscles to help figure out which bones were broken and which organs may have been injured. He quickly realized his right leg was broken. As he contracted his stomach muscles, sharp pain shot through him like a knife wound. To make it worse, he started to cough—his phlegm was bright red.

  Brent knew he was about to lose consciousness as his vision began to fade. In those waning seconds, he looked toward God for assurance.

  Father, I pray that all my men and the president made it out of the cave before it collapsed. I have completed all you have asked of me and I ask you to take me home.

  At his weakest, a voice of strength spoke to him.

  “You have done well my son, but your journey has just begun. You must find a way, a way deep within you, to carry on.”

  I cannot. I am begging you to take my soul and bring it home.

  Brent faded back into unconsciousness and when he opened his eyes, he was once again standing on Mount Ararat.

  It was once again a desolate landscape of ice and snow. The wind cut with more pain than any bullet or blade.

  “Why am I here? Must I return to the beginning before I am welcomed into the house of the Lord?”

  A shadow began to emerge th
rough the mist of ice and snow. Brent expected to see the Light of heaven. As the figure moved closer, there was light, but it was not as bright as it had been in his past encounters. As the figure came closer, he could make out a feminine form. He opened his eyes wide when he realized it was Chloe, not the Almighty. He reached out for her, but his hands passed straight through. His momentum caused him to fall onto the frozen tundra. The pain of his injures amplified.

  He staggered to his knees and stared at her bare feet. His guilt would not allow him to look into her eyes.

  She reached out and was able to touch him. He felt her warm caress on his frozen flesh. Her touch brought a lessening of his pain. He tilted his head, leaning into her touch. He could smell her scent. For a moment, all was right in his world.

  “Look at me,” Chloe said.

  He continued to look down.

  “Look at me,” she repeated.

  With slow, awkward movements, Brent raised his head until he was looking into the eyes of his beloved. A fleeting smile flashed across his face, but quickly disappeared into the abyss of loneliness and despair.

  With a glimmer of hope, he spoke. “Are you here to take me home?”

  “I am here as a messenger of the Lord. I am here to tell you that you must stay in this world and fulfill your destiny.” Confused, Brent opened his mouth to speak. Chloe slid a finger over his lips as she had done thousands of time before, to silence him. “I am here to remind you that you must stay to raise Faith and help her fulfill her destiny.”

  “What is her destiny?”

  Chloe shook her head. “Only God knows of her destiny, but with all men that ultimately lies in her hands.”

  Brent closed his eyes in thought. When he spoke, only two words emerged. “Free will.”

  Chloe nodded. “Free will. The moral character that you will instill in her, the love that you will shower upon her, the strength that she will learn from watching you, will forge in her the ability to choose the right decisions when her destiny begins to unfold.” Chloe’s eyes moistened with emotion. “Without you, the world’s evil will have a strong pull on her. Satan will seek his revenge on you through her. You must stay here and help her resist his pull.”