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

by Richard C Hale

  “What is in Sanibel?” she asked.

  “Please, do not talk. Just drive.”

  It was 9:34 on the dash clock. It was going to be a long night and she was already exhausted from the day. She hoped she would not fall asleep at the wheel. She turned once more to look at her captor and saw that his eyes were closed.

  68

  January 19, 2010 9:45 p.m.

  Orange Park, Florida

  Jake ran outside and looked for Bodey. He found him lying in between two cars in the side parking lot. He was alive but bleeding badly.

  Jake wasn’t sure if Peter would call 911 and even if he did, maybe no one would find Bodey hidden like this so he took out his own cell phone and made the call.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Yes, my friend’s been shot! He’s in the side parking lot of the Encephalographic Systems building on Kingsley Avenue. He’s lying in between two cars so tell them to look for him. Hurry!”

  “You say he’s been shot?”

  “Yes, and he’s bleeding badly.”

  “What’s your name sir?”

  “He’s in the Encephalographic Systems side parking lot. You got that?”

  “Yes. We’ve had multiple calls for the area and units are already on their way. I need your name and phone number sir.”

  Jake hung up.

  Bodey looked bad. He had been hit in the stomach and upper right thigh. Blood was everywhere.

  “Shot twice in one day,” Bodey said. “Pretty good, huh? I should be able to get some redhead to pay attention to me now. I’ll just show ‘em my scars.”

  “Don’t talk, man. Save your strength. You’re going to be fine. The ambulance is on its way.”

  Jake could hear a siren in the distance.

  “Bodey. I have to go. They’re coming now and you’re going to be ok. I can’t get caught up in all of this. He has Maddy and I have to go after him.”

  “I know, dude. Go. I tried to stop him, but I suck.”

  “I know you tried,” Jake said, smiling. “You have more balls then I do. I wish you were going with me.”

  Bodey doubled up on the pavement in pain and groaned. “Shit this hurts!”

  “I’m sorry I got you into all this.”

  “Shut up and get the hell out of here. I’ll be all right. Now go!”

  Jake put his hand on his friend’s arm and then got up and ran to his car.

  “Shoot that bastard in the balls for me!” Bodey yelled after him.

  Jake put the laptop in the passenger seat, started the car and exited the parking lot with the tires squealing.

  He had one place to go before he followed Omar and Maddy.

  69

  January 20, 2010 12:26 a.m.

  Tampa, Florida

  Maddy drove in silence, her adrenaline and her thoughts keeping her awake for now.

  Omar had fallen asleep but rested fitfully, mumbling in his sleep and sometimes crying out, only to wake briefly, sit bolt upright and then grab his shoulder in pain. Afterward, he would sit back again and doze off restlessly.

  Sanibel. She couldn’t imagine why he needed to be in sleepy Sanibel Island. What could possibly be waiting for a terrorist in a small tourist destination off the coast of Fort Myers?

  Every time she pictured Qayum Omar on the beach in her childhood vacation spot, she could not associate his violent, destructive nature with the sea shell covered beaches and dolphins frolicking in the water. Was there something sinister brewing just below the surface of the community? She thought not. It was probably just out of the way. Somewhere he could hide without being spotted in some large city. Then again, he would probably blend in more in a city like Miami or Fort Lauderdale. Anonymity could be obtained a lot more easily in a crowd.

  He was stirring awake and she was glad. She had to use the bathroom something fierce and could use some caffeine if she was to keep driving. They were outside of Tampa on I-75 and were making good time in the light traffic this late at night, but she could tell exhaustion was creeping up on her.

  “Where are we?” His voice floated up out of the gloom, sounding too loud in the van after the ninety minutes of silence.

  “Tampa,” she said.

  “How much farther?”

  “A little more than two hours.”

  She could sense him nodding, but he did not say anything.

  “I have to use the bathroom. Can we stop?”

  “Yes.”

  “There is a rest stop two miles ahead. They have bathrooms and drinks.”

  “Will it be crowded?”

  “Probably not this late at night, but more than likely, there will be some people there.”

  “No. Find an exit with a gas station or a place less populated.”

  “Fine,” she said, squirming, her bladder protesting now that she was thinking about it.

  They came to an exit ten miles later which had a number of truck stops and gas stations. He directed her to the loneliest one set back in the dark on the less traveled side of the off ramp.

  He followed her to the unlocked restroom and waited outside. She would not allow him in, though he protested angrily. He finally relented, but when it was his turn, he made her stay in the bathroom with him, the gun resting on the sink within easy reach of his hand, as he stood over the toilet.

  “Turn the water on!” he said, when he could not go.

  She almost laughed at his embarrassment.

  They got a couple of Cokes from a soda machine and then were back on the interstate heading south.

  70

  January 19, 2010 10:45 p.m.

  Orange Park, Florida

  Jake flinched as Mike McClaughlin yelled.

  “I told you I didn’t want my daughter involved in anything dangerous!” he said into Jake’s face. “You promised nothing would happen to her!”

  “Please, honey,” Sara said, “this is not helping. Let him finish.”

  “You’re right sir,” Jake said, “and I take full responsibility for what has happened. But I need your help. I would never have allowed Maddy to be involved if I knew this was going to happen.”

  He paused, and then said softly, “I love her. I would rather die than have this happen and I’m willing to do that to get her back.”

  Sara put a hand on Mike’s arm. Mike looked at Jake hard and must have seen something in his eyes, because he eased up and took a step back.

  “All right, start talking.”

  “I’ll try to be quick. He’s got a two hour head start on me.”

  Jake explained the situation as briefly as he could while Mike and Sara listened closely. As the story unfolded, Mike’s face grew worried and then set into a hard stare, wheels spinning.

  “Well, we’re going to need more than that pistol you have.” Mike said. “Come on.”

  Mike led him into the garage and unlocked a storage room exposing a locker full of weapons and equipment.

  “Whaddya’ like? I prefer the shotgun myself,” Mike said.

  “Sir—uh—I don’t know anything about guns. I don’t even know where the safety is on this one. I trust your judgment.”

  Mike shook his head. “That Glock doesn’t have a safety. You take the shotgun. It’s pretty straight forward. I’ll take the M16.”

  Mike grabbed extra ammo and a small satchel and threw them into the back of the Chevelle.

  “We’ll take the fast car. Any idea where he’s taking her?”

  “The tracking software shows them around Tampa on I-75 south. I’m not sure what his destination is.”

  “What tracking software?”

  “He has a chip implanted in his leg that we can track via a satellite owned by the government.”

  “Does he know he has this chip?” Mike asked.

  “No.”

  Mike smiled. “Good. Surprise is on our side and you’re going to fill in the rest of the blanks while we drive.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Mike said goodbye to Sara and pro
mised to be careful and bring her baby back.

  “Don’t call my cell,” Mike told her. “You might give our position away right at the wrong moment. I’ll call you with updates, ok?”

  Jake could see the worry in Sara’s eyes and swore to himself he would not be the cause of any more anguish for this family. He would find Maddy and get her to safety no matter what.

  71

  January 20, 2010 3:00 a.m.

  Punta Gorda, Florida

  Jake and Mike made good time and were on I-75 south passing the town of Punta Gorda.

  The laptop showed Omar had stopped moving and was on an Island off the coast of Fort Myers. Jake was relieved that they at least had a destination.

  “Sanibel Island,” Mike said. “We go down there on vacation every year. Maddy knows it well. I wonder why they’ve stopped there?”

  “Maybe he wanted her to take him to someplace she was familiar with.”

  “Could be, but I don’t think that’s it. What the hell could be in Sanibel that a terrorist would want or need?”

  During the drive, Jake had filled in all the blanks for Mike. He seemed impressed and amazed at all that had happened to the group in the last twenty four hours.

  “You must be exhausted,” Mike had said. “Why don’t you try and get a little sleep. You won’t be doing anyone any good if you’re a walking zombie.”

  So Jake slept for an hour or so and felt a little better. He couldn’t seem to sleep any longer than that. He was too worried about Maddy.

  He wanted Mike to push the car even harder, but Mike kept it at a reasonable 80 mph. He didn’t want to risk being pulled over. Who knew if the authorities were looking for Jake after all that had happened at the lab.

  They listened to the radio a bit and nothing was said about the explosions, but that didn’t mean Jake was not a person of interest. Jake could only hope that Bodey and Peter, if they were still alive, covered for him.

  As they approached their exit, Daniels Parkway, Jake asked what the plan would be.

  “We’ll get a good layout of the area and decide from there. The island has lots of condos and bungalows, so we’ll plan our strategy based on what they’re staying in. I’m hoping for a house or bungalow. It will make it much simpler.”

  Jake nodded and looked at the laptop again. The blinking red dot representing Omar was on the southern tip of the island, along the gulf coast side. Mike said they would cross the bay side over a causeway, cross the main north/south roadway, Periwinkle, to East Gulf drive, and try to determine where Omar and Maddy were along the road which hugged the coast.

  The car couldn’t seem to move fast enough.

  72

  January 20, 2010 3:31 a.m.

  Sanibel, Florida

  Omar’s shoulder and head felt worse despite being attended to by the physician his contact in Miami arranged.

  The man met them at the condo shortly after they arrived, disinfected the wounds, and stitched up the bullet hole in his upper deltoid.

  He had refused pain pills from the man and regretted the decision. He had just wanted the so called doctor gone. The man reeked of alcohol and garlic, and kept leering at the girl.

  When he and Maddy had arrived on the island, he had picked up a set of keys in a lock box at a local real estate office and driven straight to a condominium complex called Ocean Breeze Bay.

  They were on the third floor near the ocean and this suited him well. The only possible entry was through the main door and that was good.

  He told the girl she needed to stay with him for one more day and then he would set her free. He could see she was about to protest, but something changed in her eyes and she nodded. She was not ignorant and seemed resigned to her fate. Maybe he could find a way for her to live, but he doubted it.

  She was sleeping on the couch now, snoring softly, one arm draped over her head, her hair spread out in an auburn fan beneath her, faintly glowing in the moonlight which was shining through the window. Her beauty did not escape him, but he could not concern himself with such things right now.

  He kept reliving the events of the day and though he thought he had convinced himself it was all some elaborate hoax by the Americans to scare information out of him, he could not seem to get the visions out of his head.

  The girl had wanted to talk during the drive, but he had refused at first. She kept at him saying she needed some type of stimulation to keep her awake, so he had relented. She was so innocent and naïve, questioning his heritage and family ties along with his beliefs. He could lie to her so easily at first, but he got the impression she knew when he was not truthful.

  Eventually the conversation turned to the events of the day, like he knew it would. He did not want to go there, but she wouldn’t let it go.

  “I know you saw things you didn’t want to,” she said. “Were you surprised?”

  “I do not know what you are talking about.”

  “We could see what was going on in your mind while they stopped your heart,” she told him. “What I saw looked very bad. You seemed very scared.”

  “You are a foolish girl. These things cannot be. They simply drugged me and I was hallucinating or having a bad dream.” But his words sounded weak coming from his mouth.

  She shook her head and said softly, “You don’t believe that. I can hear it in your voice.”

  He only stared out the window, thinking how horrible the dream had been.

  “I know you have done many bad things in your life,” she said, “but maybe you can still be forgiven. You can change your destiny. I know you think I am foolish and just a woman, but what you went through was real. We have seen these Near Death Experiences from many different people and yours was the first that scared me. What you saw is your fate, unless you change.”

  “You will drive now. I do not want to talk any longer.”

  She gave him one more look that was worse than anything she had said to him.

  He could be angry at her for distracting him from his cause, and he could distrust her because she was an American woman and foolish in nature, but he could not understand why he was afraid. The pity he saw in her eyes made him forget about everything but what he saw hooked up to that awful machine. She knew it was real, and she felt sorry for him.

  And this terrified him.

  73

  January 20, 2010 4:02 a.m.

  Sanibel, Florida

  Jake and Mike crossed over the bay to Sanibel Island and passed through the four way stop for Periwinkle Drive heading to East Gulf Drive.

  The blip on the laptop’s screen would periodically jump around, but as they got closer to the chip in Omar’s leg, the target seemed to stabilize. He was just up ahead, about a block away.

  “Turn right up here, Mike,” Jake said.

  Mike grunted and made the turn.

  “Slow down,” Jake said, “he’s to the left here, up ahead.”

  They passed one condo complex on their left, which was the gulf side, as they headed back north along the coast, idling on the deserted road. To their right were houses which sat on canals giving owners of the homes access to the ocean. Another condo complex passed them on the left, then a set of tennis courts.

  “He’s in there,” Jake said. “I think we need to backtrack to the entrance.”

  “Damn! I was hoping for a house,” Mike swore. “And these are multi-story condos. Who knows what floor he might be on?”

  “Hold on…,” Jake said as Mike turned around at the next intersection and headed back to the entrance of Ocean Breeze Bay.

  Jake clicked on a tab for the software which said, ‘Elevation’ and the display changed showing the height of the target in feet.

  “I’ll be damned. He’s thirty two feet high. Do you think that will help?”

  “Third floor—yeah that will help. Let’s get him pinpointed.”

  As they pulled into the complex, Jake guided Mike to the northern most parking lot and then they had to turn toward the ocean and follow the
lot to the back of the complex.

  “Maybe we should stop here and park,” Jake said. “This car is pretty loud. It looks like he’s two buildings up.”

  “Right.”

  Mike pulled into an available spot and shut the engine down. Mike pocketed his pistol and Jake did the same with the Glock from Peter. They left the big guns in the car while they scouted the area out. Jake took the laptop with them.

  They walked along a path which hugged the buildings, keeping to the shadows, and when they reached the second building, Jake ducked into a stairwell and opened the laptop. The screen seemed so bright in the dark of the night.

  They were right on top of him.

  Jake remembered something Peter had said about the accuracy being within so many feet but he couldn’t remember if it was twenty five feet or five feet. Mike thought twenty five sounded more realistic so they had some deducing to do.

  The red blip was to the right of their position, but the condo units were spaced every twenty feet or so. This gave them a choice of three possible units, but after seeing a for sale sign on the far right one, they eliminated it. There were lights on in the one closest to them and the one in the middle was dark.

  “The dark one looks deserted,” Mike said. “They have to be in the one with the lights.”

  “Hold on,” Jake said, looking at the parking lot. “That van looks like one that Peter’s group used. Let’s see if the parking space has a number on it.”

  They walked into the open and got a closer look. 163.

  Jake smiled at Mike and they looked up at the third floor. Unit 163 was the one that was dark.

  “Good job,” Mike said. “Let’s hope he used his parking space.”

  All the other spots were occupied so Jake felt like their chances were good.

  “Let’s go around to the courtyard side,” Mike said, “and see if there might be a way in besides the front door.”