Near Death (A Jake Townsend Science Fiction, Action and Adventure, Thriller Series Book 1)

by Richard C Hale

  So far, no one pursued him, but he knew that would change.

  He had to get as far away as he could while he had the time. If only he had been able to kill the man who put him here. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he would get another chance. He was sure his pursuers would include the man they called Peter.

  59

  January 19, 2010 6:25 p.m.

  Orange Park, Florida

  Jake watched Peter fire at the retreating prisoner, and then turned to see Maddy kneeling next to a figure on the floor. She looked up, anguish on her face, as Jake’s heart sank.

  “Jake—Teri!” she said.

  Jake rushed over as the General’s men grabbed guns and followed Omar out the front door in pursuit. Jake knelt next to Maddy as Teri bled onto the floor from a wound at the center of her chest. Her face ashen, blood oozing from the corner of her mouth, eyes going in and out of focus, she gasped for breath.

  “Teri—it’s Jake. Hold on, we’re getting you some help!”

  Jake looked frantically around for one of the lab coats and seeing the woman yelled, “Hey! Help us over here! She’s been shot!”

  The woman rushed over and took one look at Teri and the wound and Jake could see in the woman’s eyes it was hopeless. The woman slowly shook her head, but began cutting away Teri’s shirt so she could get a better look at the damage.

  “How bad?” Maddy asked.

  “It’s bad,” the woman said, and kept working.

  Teri coughed up a large clot of dark blood, grabbed at the air in front of her and as Jake took hold of her hand, she focused her eyes and saw him.

  “Jake,” she whispered, “I…”

  “Shh,” Jake said softly, clinging to her hand. “Don’t talk. We’re going to get you fixed up.”

  Tears formed in her eyes and Jake knew she didn’t believe him. She was taking shallow wet breaths and more blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth as she struggled to breathe.

  “Jake—I’m sorry for what I’ve been these past weeks. I couldn’t help myself.” She coughed wetly and moaned in pain.

  “You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Jake said. “Don’t talk like that. Save your strength.”

  “No—I have to tell you.”

  “Teri—please!”

  She turned to Maddy, “I’m sorry for what I did to you. You didn’t deserve it. Take care of him.” And she smiled weakly.

  To Jake she said, “I love you. I always have. Don’t bl…”

  Her hand went slack in his and her eyes became vacant and blank as she slipped away.

  “Teri! No! Stay with us! Teri!”

  But she was gone.

  The woman slowly closed Teri’s shirt, trying to give her some dignity and said, “I’m sorry.”

  Jake looked around the room as if lost. He couldn’t understand why this was happening. Teri, his friend, his partner, the only one to stand by him when Beth had died, was gone. How could he have let this happen? This was his fault. He never should have let things get this bad.

  She had tried to tell him—tried to warn him that he had gone too far. He didn’t listen and now Teri was gone. Gone in the blink of an eye. Killed by some crazed lunatic who didn’t know anything about her, or for that matter, didn’t even care.

  He clenched his hands and squeezed his eyes shut at the vision of her lying there. Thrusting his fists in the air, a sound came from deep inside him that was animal like. Pure rage and sorrow spewed forth in a cry so painful everyone in the room stopped and felt his anguish.

  Jake opened his eyes and saw Peter staring. Something snapped.

  “You! You did this, you son of a bitch!”

  Peter came over and said, “I’m sorry, Jake.”

  Jake jumped up and swung at Peter, connecting with a fierceness he didn’t know he possessed.

  Peter went down on one knee, looked up at Jake. “That one was free. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  Jake lunged at Peter again, but Peter leaned to his left, brought his knee up into Jake’s exposed abdomen, and pushed his backside, sending him sprawling onto the floor, doubled over in pain.

  “I don’t have time for this shit!” Peter stood and went to check on the General.

  Maddy went to Jake and cradled his head in her hands “Jake, please stop. He will kill you.”

  Bodey came over cradling his wounded arm and knelt next to Teri. Jake looked at him and all the rage he felt left him. Bodey was crying.

  “What have we done, Jake?” Bodey said.

  Jake did not have an answer for him.

  He looked down at the ground, his eyes on fire, tears flowing now as the full impact of Teri’s death sank in. Maddy leaned her head against his and she caressed the back of his neck, trying to comfort him.

  “I saw her go down,” she said. “I didn’t believe it at first and then I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry.”

  “There was nothing any of you could do. This is my fault. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself.”

  “You can’t think that way,” Maddy said. “She was here of her own free will. She wanted to help. Remember?”

  “But she kept questioning me and the decisions I was making. She thought I was going too far, and now she was right. Only she was the one who suffered. I did this to her.”

  “She told me while we were driving from the hospital to Eve’s, she believed in what you were doing and felt guilty about the crap she’d been giving you—her words.”

  Jake looked into her compassionate eyes and she nodded.

  “Please stop blaming yourself. Teri knew what she was doing.”

  Jake turned to Bodey who was nodding in agreement. “Now we know she’s in a better place,” Bodey said. “Remember? We’re the ones who proved it.”

  Just then Peter walked up.

  “The General’s dead. I’m in charge at the moment and I need your help.”

  Jake and Maddy stood and both looked over at the General lying on the floor. Both lab coats were standing over him talking and gesturing about something.

  “Bodey needs some attention,” Jake said. “Can one of your people take a look at him since you shot him.”

  “Pierce! Take a look at this man’s arm, will you.”

  “Yes, sir!” The man in the lab coat jogged over to Bodey.

  “I need someone who knows the area,” Peter said. “Since I’m not from around here, it would help to have some local expertise. You two both grew up here, right?”

  Jake and Maddy both nodded.

  Most of the other operatives were returning now with one yelling, “No sign of him. Morris and Johnson are still searching the complex, but he could be anywhere.”

  “Call them back,” Peter said. “We’ll track him enroute. I’ll need everyone together, ready to take him down when we corner him.”

  The man nodded and then spoke into his cuff on his left wrist.

  “Track him?” Jake said.

  “Omar doesn’t know it, but he has a chip implanted in his leg which allows us to track him to within twenty five feet of his position. During his capture, I shattered his right knee and when the surgeons repaired it here, we had them implant the chip.”

  “Why should we help you?” Jake asked. “You people have killed my friend and colleague, shot my computer expert, and every time I turn around you’re either threatening me or beating me up. You can go to hell.”

  “I can understand your position, Jake, and in a lot of ways, I sympathize with you. But this man is bigger than you or me. We are expendable. He possesses information which could save thousands of U.S. lives. Do you know who Qayum Omar is?”

  All three of them shook their heads.

  “For starters, he was one of the masterminds of 9/11 and was actually supposed to pilot an aircraft into the capitol during the second wave, but his flight was forced to land before he could succeed. Most recently, he was the one responsible for the attack on the base in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Do you remember that?”
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  All three nodded.

  “He knows things about their operations and the locations of certain individuals. What’s in his head is very important to our national security. If he gets away, Teri and the General will have died for nothing.”

  Jake looked at Maddy, then Bodey, who gave a slight nod, and finally at Teri lying dead on the ground a few feet away. He knew he was being fed a bunch of bullshit, but he also could not allow Teri’s death to amount to nothing.

  “Did you shoot Teri?” Jake asked.

  “No.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “I fired once and hit Omar in the shoulder. I then fired four more shots as he fled through the door. Teri wasn’t in trajectory of any of those bullets. Omar hit her as he was firing at me.”

  Jake stared hard at Peter, but he never flinched or looked away.

  “What are you going to do with him when you catch him?”

  “We’re going to bring him back here and finish what we came here to do.”

  Jake thought hard about this.

  He couldn’t make himself feel good one way or the other, but if Qayum Omar got a little taste of his own medicine, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. The bastard had shot Teri and killed who knows how many others. A little payback for her just might be in order.

  Jake turned slowly, still feeling the effects of being kneed in the stomach by Peter, and said, “All right—let’s do this, but Maddy stays here. I don’t want her in any danger.”

  Peter looked at Maddy and then back at Jake and nodded. He turned and went to give some instructions to one of the men who had returned from outside.

  When he was out of earshot, Maddy said, “Jake, what are you doing? Are you really going to help these people?”

  “That bastard killed Teri, and I won’t stand by and watch him get away. If I can help capture him, I will.”

  “But they’re going to bring him back here and put him in the machine. You’re going to help them kill him?”

  “I’m not going to stop them.”

  Maddy shook her head.

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this. I know you’re upset, but do you really think this is what Teri would want? I mean she stood there a few minutes ago and told the General she refused to help them and now you’re all gung ho about it? Jake, maybe you should slow down and think about this.”

  “All I know is I’m going to help them catch that piece of shit. As to what I’m going to do afterwards—I’ll have to think hard about it.”

  She reached out and took his hand.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go along with you?”

  “No, I’d be worried the whole time.”

  “What do you think I’m going to be doing while you’re gone?”

  60

  January 19, 2010 7:03 p.m.

  Orange Park, Florida

  Shivering, Omar watched the sun go down and the temperature drop with it.

  The thin, grey jumpsuit was the only thing between him and the elements. His body, coupled with the shock of being shot, could not keep up. He needed to find shelter or additional clothing, and he needed to find it soon.

  He had followed the creek until it entered a culvert that passed under a street, and since he could not fit inside, he was back in the open moving from yard to yard. It would be easier to remain hidden once it was fully dark.

  He noticed some trash bags stuffed full and piled on top of each other just inside the front stoop of the house whose yard he was passing through and decided to see if there was anything useful in them he could use for warmth.

  Surprisingly, they were full of clothes. He found a couple of long sleeve shirts and a sweater and though a little tight, they were wearable. His left shoulder ached and it was difficult to get the clothes on, but he felt better once he was warmer.

  The movement caused the wound to open up again and he was bleeding more heavily now. The blood soaked through the shirts and sweater in a matter of minutes. If it didn’t stop soon, he would have to remove the clothing and adjust the makeshift bandage.

  The neighborhood had remained deserted except for an occasional car passing by on the street or a dog barking at him from the other side of a fence. No one had noticed him.

  Up ahead, he could see the street he was following was actually a cul-de-sac and the road ended with a fence directly ahead. Omar thought he might have to break a hole in it since his wounded arm prevented him from scaling the eight foot picket fence, but as he got closer, he could see an opening in the gloom and realized it was a pedestrian entrance to the neighborhood. He passed through the fence and found himself on a path that ran alongside a two lane roadway traveling perpendicular to his current track. A car approached from his left.

  He sprinted across the road and entered the small wooded area on the other side just before the car’s headlights illuminated him. He trampled through the thick underbrush and emerged into an open area with a sharp incline in front of him. He climbed the slope and realized it was a set of railroad tracks. Crossing the tracks, he slipped down the other side into another wooded area.

  He stopped to rest.

  The bleeding had slowed again, but his sleeve was dark and sticky in the fading light. He didn’t know how much blood he had lost, but his energy was waning and he thought the blood loss had something to do with it. He couldn’t rest for long, though, and as he stood, he could hear a car passing by in front of him.

  He pushed through the remaining wooded area and found another roadway. Cars approached from both directions, so he waited inside the foliage until he could safely cross without being seen. Three sets of headlights passed before the road was dark again.

  He emerged from the bushes at a jog and ran smack into a woman walking her dog along the bike path. The noise of the passing cars had apparently masked her approach. He stumbled when he collided with the woman, and the gun clattered to the pavement, skidding out of reach. The dog, a large Rottweiler breed, growled and then attacked him, its owner screaming in surprise as she fell down.

  The dog had his left forearm in its mouth and shook him furiously, pain shooting into his shoulder as the gunshot wound reopened.

  The dog would not let go.

  Omar used his good right arm, found the dog’s eyes and attempted to insert his thumb into the socket, but the dog kept shaking its head back and forth making it impossible. He could not gain any advantage.

  He used all his strength and lunged to his left, toward where he thought the gun had fallen. He tripped over the woman’s legs and went down. The dog immediately let go of his arm and went for his throat.

  Gritting his teeth through the pain, he kept his injured arm up, blocking the dog from his neck and reached out with his right hand trying to find the gun. After a few frantic seconds of pawing empty ground, his hand struck metal. He grasped the gun, brought it up and fired it point blank into the animal’s chest. The sound was deafening in the cold night air. The woman screamed again, trying to get up.

  Omar pushed the dead dog off of his chest and scrambled to his feet.

  The woman was crawling away from him, sobbing, trying to get her feet under her. Omar strode over to her and raised the weapon, bringing it down hard onto her exposed head and she collapsed to the pavement, unconscious.

  “Stupid bitch!”

  Omar was shaking.

  He looked around wildly, expecting another attack but nothing came at him out of the gloom. He heard a car approaching and saw the headlights in the distance. Regaining his bearings, he ran across the road and crouched in the ditch on the other side as he waited for the car to pass. As the headlights illuminated the street, he realized the unconscious woman’s body was lying half in the road. He cursed himself and waited to see if the car would stop.

  The woman remained unmoving as the headlights brought her fully into view. The car carried some speed and Omar thought the driver was going to run right over her, but at the last possible second, the driver saw the woman,
swerved and slammed on the brakes, skidding sideways but missing the woman.

  The car idled there for a moment and then the door opened.

  A man of small build slowly got out and warily walked around his door to the front of his car. He saw the woman lying on the pavement, pulled his cell phone out and then crossed in front of his car and knelt next to her. Omar could no longer see the man as the car blocked his view of him and the woman. He could hear him talking into his cell phone, but could not tell what he was saying.

  Omar realized that the altercation with the woman and the dog just might be a good thing. He stood, quickly crossed to the idling car, slid into the driver’s seat, put the car in drive and accelerated rapidly away as the owner of the car jumped up in disbelief and watched his car drive off.

  Omar grinned to himself despite the pain in his left arm, and followed the road into the night.

  61

  January 19, 2010 6:55 p.m.

  Orange Park, Florida

  Jake, Peter, and three of the other men who had been in the lab, were crammed into a van that Jake presumed was used to transport prisoners.

  There were shackles and chains hanging from the wall and the windows had wire mesh embedded inside the glass. One of the men drove while Peter sat next to Jake in the back with a laptop open and a mapping program running.

  Jake shivered in the damp cold. He couldn’t understand why they hadn’t turned the heat on.

  Omar’s microchip implant was working and they were getting a good signal from some government spy satellite showing his location about a mile to the south of their current position.

  “Are you familiar with this neighborhood?” Peter asked Jake.