Under the Gun

by Lyn Stone

  Odin congratulated himself on knowing precisely where Amberson was even if he couldn’t get to her. Easy enough to determine HSA’s little hideaway by checking local government transactions involving real estate and equipment. Did they think he didn’t know how these places were set up and who kept track of them?

  They had trained him to uncover deeper, darker secrets than something like that.

  Amberson would come out here first, and he could get rid of her and whatever skeleton crew she brought with her before the main forces arrived.

  There would be time to find and deal with Griffin later. According to his father, Will Griffin still hadn’t regained his sight, so the threat of identification by him was negligible for the time being.

  Odin checked the time, antsy to act. Air traffic would probably be halted by now. If the helicopter didn’t fly over in time, he would have to go ahead and kill Turkel’s bunch and leave both the Stingers intact.

  That would also be effective, but another air disaster sure would emphasize future vulnerabilities, not to mention inflate everyone’s patriotism and punch up his hero factor.

  Holly tapped number one on the speed dial and handed Will the phone the minute they were settled in the car. “Get an ETA from Jack. I doubt they’ll use choppers because of the missiles.”

  Hopefully all incoming and outgoing air traffic would be grounded by now and she wouldn’t have to worry about missiles. She ran through possible scenarios. Arbin might be lying in wait for her, so she would probably have to deal with him first.

  If there were any aircraft in the area, she hoped to heaven the new interceptor ground-to-air missile system the Army brought in could stop the Stinger. The old GTAs were notoriously inconsistent, despite all the good press they had gotten in the war.

  Will had completed his call. “Jack says they’ll be there in about half an hour, thirty-five minutes tops. How do you want to play this?”

  “Stealth’s the only way, so you’ll have to stay back, Will,” she told him. “You might be able to help once I get there, but leading you in would slow me down too much.”

  “So stay out of your way,” he said.

  “That’s about it. I can do this. You’ve always trusted me before.”

  “I trust you now,” he declared. “I just wish I were going with you.”

  He was using his head now and she wouldn’t have to worry about him throwing himself in the line of fire. “Check your brain waves, will you? I’d sure like to know what Arbin’s up to.”

  “I’m getting nothing from him so far,” he admitted after a few minutes. “Dead quiet.”

  She took the Blaketon exit and checked her odometer. Traffic was heavy. She wove in and out, zipped into the right lane after they had gone about three miles, and watched for a turnoff at four. There it was.

  The road was four-lane and busy, lined with subdivisions and strip malls. “Right in the middle of civilization. You’d think these bozos would choose somewhere isolated.”

  “Maybe they think it’ll be easier to disappear in a crowd,” he said.

  “Here we go,” she muttered, turning left when she saw the sign Arbin had described. “This is more like it. Hills and trees, not that many houses.”

  Will had fallen silent. She risked a glance. He was staring straight ahead, his mouth slightly open. “He’s outside. It’s…old. The roof’s gone.” After a few seconds, he shuddered as if coming awake after a bad dream. “They’re there.”

  “Turkel?” she asked softly, not wanting to break his concentration, but unable to keep from prompting him.

  “Oh, God!” he gasped suddenly, then shook his head violently. He pressed the thumb-size speaker closer to mouth. “Jack. It’s up. I repeat, the missile is up! Do you copy?”

  Holly watched the sky as she sped down the road. A streak zipped through the moonlight dead ahead. “I have a visual!” She lost sight of it before the words were out. Seconds ticked by, then they heard the explosion.

  “The interceptor got it?” Holly asked.

  “Can’t tell from the sound.” He pressed the button on his mike again. “Jack, come in.” He tried several more times without success. “Interference.”

  He pulled out the cellphone and felt for the speed dial. It rang and Mercier answered. “What’s up?”

  “The SAM. Did you see it?”

  “Heard the boom and saw the flash. No word yet on what it hit. Where are you?”

  “Close. We’ll cut contact now until something breaks,” Will told him.

  “Roger that. We’re on the way.”

  Will put the phone away and spoke to Holly. “I’m switching the mike to short range. How’s yours working?”

  Holly adjusted her headset. “I read you fine, but don’t transmit to me unless you have to, and if you do, use clicks.”

  “I know the drill,” he snapped, knowing full well she was so hyped she barely knew he was there.

  Holly had wheeled off the road, driving a crow’s flight route toward where she figured the missile had been launched.

  The Jeep bumped over a field and came to a stop when a long stand of pines blocked the way. “I’m going in,” she said. She jumped out, hurriedly retrieved her weapons from the back. “Get out. It’s too open here. I want you in the woods.”

  Will suppressed a frisson of doubt. He would be lost as a goose among a bunch of trees that blocked out what moonlight there was. He climbed out, put a hand on her shoulder, prepared to do exactly as she said, since she was now officially in charge of this.

  “You might need a flare if I…I’m delayed or something.” She stuck one in the pocket of his jacket. “Here’s a pistol. Where do you want it?”

  He took it and slid it under the waistband of his jeans in back.

  “Cellphone?”

  “Right here.” He patted his shirt pocket.

  She grabbed his hand and hurried him through the trees for a ways, then stopped. “Here’s a good spot. Have a seat and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She was gone without another word. Will had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting to her, warning her to be careful, rapping out cautionary phrases that he would normally never utter to a seasoned pro like Holly. All he could do was wait, hope for the best, imagine the worst and worry like hell.

  At that moment, he could clearly understand why relationships in this business seldom worked out.

  Holly reached the house in less than three minutes. It was closer than she had thought, a vacant monstrosity virtually surrounded by woods. Eerie, like something out of a horror movie.

  She crossed the open yard and approached from the side, then stopped to calm her pulse rate. Firing while your heart was racing ninety to nothing would almost guarantee disaster, especially with several people firing back. She inhaled a breath and released it slowly.

  When she felt her muscles unkink, she continued along the cracked tabby walls to the corner bordering the front. She peeped around it and saw only one guard, armed with a wicked-looking machine gun that was a whole lot larger than her H&K.

  Holly knew she would have to take him out, silently if possible in order to avoid alerting the others.

  She made a cat sound, a wild one, then risked another peek. He tossed down his cigarette and craned his neck in her direction. She knew he couldn’t see her. She moved back when the beam of his flashlight raked the corner of the house.

  Holly meowed again, then softly called, “Kitty, kitty, kitty!” in a childlike voice. She banged a fist-size rock against an old empty paint can that lay on the ground at her feet. Another peek. He was coming to investigate, probably expecting to find some kid out looking for a runaway cat. She hoped.

  She placed her weapon on the ground and psyched herself up. The sound of his footsteps drew nearer and nearer, as did the flashlight beam.

  The instant he rounded the corner, she caught him with a chop across his windpipe and yanked his weapon out of his hand simultaneously. He curled forward, grasping his throa
t.

  Before he could recover his breath, she grabbed up the heavy flashlight he had dropped and conked him on the temple twice.

  There was still a pulse. She snatched plastic wrist restraints out of her pocket and secured him quickly. She searched him for a blade, found it and tossed it into the woods. He wouldn’t be coming around anytime soon. One down.

  Again she steadied her breathing before doing a toe-heel creep to the front door. It was open. She slid inside like an invisible wraith.

  Haunting Tara, she thought as she looked around the spacious entrance hall. There were no lights except those coming from the upper floor.

  She heard laughter and scraping sounds, as if the guys upstairs were getting things together. Yep, they would have been wise to scram the second after that missile took off. What were they thinking?

  She bounded toward the stairs and up to the second floor, where she stopped and assessed. A door down the hall stood open.

  Silently she crept to one side of it. She could feel the draft from the missing roof. The cacophony of several men speaking Arabic indicated they were occupied in some kind of argument.

  Two soft clicks sounded in her earpiece. Not now, Will! Boy, she would give her eyeteeth to have him beside her right now, but not clicking in her ear from a distance.

  She inhaled, exhaled, got herself together for the big show. This was it! She whirled into the doorway and opened fire. No warning, no identification. So let ’em sue her.

  Three fell immediately, but one had crawled behind a broken bedstead. He was holding the shoulder-fired Stinger launcher upright while he rattled off a desperate threat in his own language.

  The words were unintelligible, but his message was clear enough. He would fire the thing if she didn’t do something. But what could she do? If she fired, so would he. Standoff.

  She knew the drill. No rule held hard and fast in a situation like this.

  So, analyze what he’s thinking, what his options are, which one he’s most likely to choose. Her gaze holding his, Holly studied his wide, dark eyes. She didn’t see them as the eyes of a zealot. Too frightened.

  Would he fire it anyway, go out in a blaze of glory in hopes of reward in the next life? Maybe not, since he hadn’t yet. She figured this man wasn’t quite that ready to die. Maybe she could deal.

  Normally it took two to fire the Stingers, but one could do it if he was determined enough. Holly was fairly certain there were no planes in the air overhead right now, but who knew where this thing would land if he fired it?

  The man left had no other weapon handy that she could see. He wore a snug knit shirt and his pants were too tight to conceal anything.

  Holly held up her hands, made her voice as calming as she could. “All right, all right! See? Look at me now. I’m laying down.”

  She crouched, slowly placed the H&K on the floor, stood and made a placating gesture with her empty hands.

  “Put that down very slowly and get out of here,” she said, motioning for him to scram, enunciating each word. “You can go.”

  It would be child’s play to chase him down once he did. She could catch him before he got out of the house.

  The second she decided he was about to lower the launcher, she heard a dull thud. A hole appeared between the man’s eyes and he crumpled to the floor.

  Not her shot. Holly hit the deck. She grabbed up the machine gun and scrambled behind a ragged, over-stuffed chair.

  The missile had fallen on top of the terrorist and bounced, rolling harmlessly to one side. Holly hoped the thing wouldn’t go off by itself.

  In the meantime, there was another shooter in the room with a silenced weapon. Where the hell was he? “Show yourself or I’ll make this place a colander!” she shouted.

  “I’m Colonel Lex Arbin, former Military Intelligence. Hold your fire!”

  “Where are you, Colonel?”

  “In here, behind this door. I’m opening it and coming out.”

  So that’s where he was hiding. Was it a closet? “Holster your weapon or I will open fire. Keep your hands above your head,” she warned him.

  A door to her left opened and he stepped out. “Who’re you with?”

  “Agent Amberson, HSA Special Ops.”

  “There’s one more outside somewhere.”

  “I got him coming in.”

  He sighed and began to lower his hands. “I was concealed, waiting for Odin to show up. They were expecting him.”

  “Keep your hands up,” she warned. “I want you just like that when company gets here.”

  “Look, honey, I’m real tired. I’ve hardly had any sleep in the past week and a half chasing these jerks around. Shoot me if you want to, but this is absurd!” His hands drifted down.

  Holly fired a burst, missing his foot by inches. His hands flew up. “Very good, honey,” she crooned, then read him his rights.

  He listened impatiently. “Jeez, woman, I’m on your side.”

  “We’ll see. It could be that Odin’s a lot closer than you’d like me to believe.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the one who clued y’all in on this mess. You saw I stopped him from firing that missile.”

  “Yeah, but you sort of let those first two slide right by, didn’t you. Three innocent people are dead because you failed to stop that first one. God knows how many if that second one hit.”

  “Two went down to Macon. I kept watch on the larger group. I thought all the missiles were still here.”

  “Why didn’t you notify someone to go after the other two? Tell us where they went?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t know where they were going!” he insisted. “I called in every chance I got. The CIA has been two steps behind me all the way. I’ve been in constant touch.”

  “CIA?” Holly doubted that. Clay had been with the Company. They would have called Sextant the minute something like this turned up. “Who’s your contact?”

  “Like I could tell you that.”

  “And tonight’s firing? Why didn’t you step in? You’re pretty well armed. With that silencer, you could have dropped them all before they knew what hit ’em.”

  “Odin was supposed to show up, they said. He was the brains of the outfit, so I figured they’d wait for him. I was assured the authorities would ground everything anyway.”

  He looked nervous and his back was to the open door. If that wasn’t a closet and there was another exit through there, Holly feared he might simply step back and disappear before she could fire if she didn’t remain vigilant. She reminded herself that this guy was former Intelligence. He probably had the same training she did, and that’s what she would try.

  Suddenly, two shots popped from somewhere to her right. Arbin grabbed his chest and fell. Holly dropped to her knees and scrambled backward to the hall door.

  Damn! She hadn’t had a chance to check the other three men for signs of life after her initial intrusion. One of them had obviously survived.

  And then something whistled through the open roof.

  Will knew help was at least a quarter hour away, maybe more. Suddenly, like an out-of-control brushfire, Odin’s euphoric sense of power flooded through his mind.

  Staccato bursts of fully automatics popped like multiple strands of firecrackers. Will couldn’t tell if the sounds were in his head or if he actually heard them. Unless he deliberately broke the connection with Odin, he wouldn’t know.

  A long silence ensued. Will felt incredible tension, a sense of urgency. Excitement. In his mind he could see the end of a weapon of some kind. Not a Stinger, but something round, olive-drab.

  Then an enormous boom and blast of heat shook him. No, it shook Odin. A grenade? Had he launched a grenade?

  Where was Holly? Will pushed the mike to his lips and clicked frantically. No answer. Changed to long-range frequency and again pressed it. “Sextant? Come in!”

  He yanked the cell out of his pocket, then stuffed it back in. What was the use? They’d be here as soon as humanly possib
le anyway, whether he called or not.

  Somebody had to do something here, and there was nobody but the blind guy.

  He had to get to Holly. Somehow help her. Trusting that she could handle herself was one thing, but loving her was something else.

  His eyes were adjusting a little, still insisting on tunnel vision. Very bad tunnel vision, at that, but he could see slivers of light flickering between the thin trunks of the trees. At least he was going in the right direction.

  Battling through the thick underbrush, he emerged in a yard. The grass under his feet made for easier walking, and the fire from the house lit his way.

  Will squinted at the old house and could see flames engulfing the top floor. “Holly?” he called.

  Scanning the scene was like looking through a camera with the split aperture center only half focused. He thanked God he could see that little bit.

  If Holly was inside that firetrap, he had to get her out now. Will ran as fast as he dared, praying he wouldn’t trip over anything that would slow him down.

  No more gunfire erupted. No sounds broke the night other than the roar and crackle of the blaze. The front door stood wide open.

  He quickly slid inside, weapon ready, hoping his eyes would adjust.

  It was too dark to see anything at all. If she was below that conflagration on the top floor, she would answer. If she wasn’t, he didn’t much care what happened to him.

  “Holly!” he shouted as loudly as possible. “Holly, are you in here?”

  “Will!” she answered immediately. “Get out!”

  “Where are you?” he demanded, straining to see in the darkness. Nothing.

  “Second floor landing. I’m crawling down now. I can make it. Get out of here!”

  “Are you hurt?” he called, following the sound of her voice. He bumped into the stair rail and grabbed on to it, taking the stairs two at a time. “Answer me!”

  “Yeah,” she said, grabbing his ankle when he reached the landing. “I think my leg’s busted.”

  Will stuffed the gun back in his belt and reached down to lift her. “Fireman’s carry,” he warned. “Hang on. I won’t drop you.”