Patriots Betrayed

by John Grit

  All hell broke loose, and the woods came alive with full auto fire. Muzzle flashes blinked like fireflies in the dark. The man Raylan let pass by turned back and bulled through thick brush. Raylan saw him coming when he burst out into a small opening, holding his Krinkov in the assault position. He was met with a double tap to the head from Raylan’s carbine. The firing stopped, but he could hear men running in the woods, positioning themselves to come in for the kill. They didn’t know which muzzle flash to shoot at – yet. They had stopped firing sooner than he expected. These men were trained, not the kind to panic and shoot at every muzzle flash in the dark and kill each other. They just may be ex-Spetsnaz after all. He gripped his carbine tighter and slid into the shadows to await developments, praying that Carla would stay put. He didn’t want to worry about accidently killing her in the dark.

  Two men came running up the drive wielding weapons that appeared to be Krinkovs. He wanted to take them while they were in the open, but knew as soon as he fired other men would fire on him before he had time to reposition. Switching back to full auto, he let the two come on. When they were only a few yards away, he stood up from behind cover and pumped a short burst into them, then immediately rolled behind a windfall.

  The woods erupted in gunfire from four different directions. Several rounds slammed into the log, throwing splinters over Raylan’s head. Rather than shooting back and giving away his position, he crawled and kept crawling until he was fifty yards from where he had killed the two men in the driveway.

  Crashing brush warned Raylan more danger was heading his way. He waited as long as he could before firing two rounds into the professional killer’s face at only four yards. Hearing the telltale whistle of bullets slicing through the air and past his head, Raylan dove behind a pine tree. More bullets chewed away bark and threw splinters. He crawled as if his life depended on it, because it did.

  While slamming a fresh magazine into the M4, Raylan heard a bullet smack flesh, followed by a grunt, then the distinctive bark of Carla’s MP5 came to his ears. I hope she’s using a night vision monocular and can recognize me in the dark. I didn’t have time to look for the damn things when I left her and can’t see that well out here. He crawled for better cover, keeping as low as possible, knowing he would have to be very careful about who he shot, since Carla had entered the fight and was in the woods.

  Whispered words came to his ear through the earphone. “I guess you know I’m out here now,” Carla said.

  “Yep.” Raylan scanned the dark woods for danger. “Keep me apprised of your position. Remember, I don’t have my night eyes on.”

  “You rushed into this without proper preparation,” she said. “These are ex-Spetsnaz we’re dealing with. Mistakes are fatal.”

  “I’m doing okay. Can’t be that many left. How many thugs could they have stuffed into one SUV?”

  She stifled a laugh. “There’s the old Raylan I used to know.”

  “I’m getting old alright.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But not too old to kill a few more Russians and get the hell out of here with you.”

  “That’s the spirit.” She caught a blur of motion under a wide oak that shielded anything under it from starlight, making it difficult to see, even with a night vision device. Drawing her MP5 tight against her shoulder, she waited for a shot. Instead of a man, a buck emerged from the oak’s dark shade and timidly made its way toward another shading tree forty yards to Carla’s right. The buck suddenly froze, lifted its tail, and sprang away in alarm — a sure sign a man was hiding there.

  She flinched when a burst of gunfire down by the driveway caught her by surprise, but she kept her weapon aimed at the shaded area under that tree. Little by little, a man appeared as he inched into the starlight. As soon she saw the AK74 he was carrying, she tightened her aim and fired. The man’s head erupted into crimson mist just before he dropped so fast all she saw was him disappearing into the gloom of the night forest.

  Expecting return fire from another killer, she fast-crawled, keeping as low as possible, to another position that offered cover. Using the throat mike, she spoke to Raylan. “I’m still seventy yards east of the drive. You want me to work closer so I can back you better?”

  There was no answer.

  “Raylan?”

  A sound came back, “Sshh.”

  She kept quiet and listened.

  Raylan waited until the killer was only feet away, then fired a shot into his head. Wasting no time, he moved fast, keeping under the shade of trees, and found a position with cover on two sides. Looking around in the dark as he spoke, he said, “Go back to the Jeep and wait for me to clear the woods. I think we have taken them all out, but can’t be sure.”

  “There’s a home at the end of the drive. You know they’ve called the Sheriff’s Department.”

  Raylan moved slowly through the woods. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll have company soon. Go ahead and bring our ride up here. Can’t be sure we got them all, but we’ll have to risk it.” He crept to the edge of the drive where he would be well-hidden and waited.

  Ten minutes later, Carla’s voice broke the silence of the night. “I’ve got an idea. This thing’s got four wheel drive, and I found an open area with only a few scattered trees we can cross to get back to the road instead of taking the driveway. It’s muddy in places, but we should make it okay.”

  Raylan was pleased. “If I head due east, will that get me where I need to be?”

  “Yeah. You’ll come out into the clearing. I’m heading there now with the lights out.”

  “Great.” Raylan moved slowly and stayed in the shadows until he felt he had left the killers behind and it was it safe to move fast. After racing through the woods for what seemed like forever, half expecting a bullet to slam into him at any moment, he reached the meadow. To his right, he just made out the Jeep and ran that way.

  Using her night vision monocular, Carla saw him coming at one hundred yards and stomped the gas pedal, reaching him in seconds and slamming on the breaks just long enough for Raylan to jump in.

  He caught his breath. “Punch it. I hear sirens. They’ll probably have a chopper out here soon.”

  They bounced along, tires spinning in the wet spots. As they approached the road, a speeding sheriff’s cruiser slowed and turned into the dirt drive. The deputy switched off the siren and overhead lights before continuing on down the driveway. He couldn’t see them because Carla had the Jeep’s lights off.

  “Damn ditch is full of water here,” Carla said. “I don’t think we can make it without getting stuck.”

  Raylan reached over the back of the seat and pawed around on the floor behind him, searching for the other night vision monocular. “Parallel the road, and we’ll look for a better spot to cross.”

  Carla hit it, not sparing the Jeep, running over brush and knocking down small trees.

  Raylan found his night eye and turned it on. “The land becomes higher and drier up ahead.”

  Coming up on drier land and seeing a place to cross, Rayland expected her to turn left and jump the ditch, but instead, she suddenly veered to the right and stopped behind a stand of pines.

  “Another deputy coming,” she said.

  It was two sheriff’s cruisers, one following the other, both with sirens off but lights flashing. She waited until they were out of sight before backing up and heading for the ditch.

  Raylan strained to see how bad the ditch looked as his head bounced off the roof. Strapping himself in, he said, “Looks rough, but we can make it with enough speed.”

  She floored it. All four tires slung mud, and the engine roared. They nearly flew across. The tires never touched the bottom of the ditch. Landing on the road shoulder hard, she jerked the wheel over and had the Jeep pointed down the road before Raylan had time to recover from the impact.

  He looked back and didn’t see anyone following. The speedometer told him they were doing eighty-five. “We’re clear.”

 
; Carla backed off to sixty and switched the lights on.

  Both of them switched their night vision monocular off and swung them up out of the way.

  A few miles down the road they came to a hamlet and turned onto a side road, trying to mingle with the neighborhood. A helicopter flew by at a distance, heading for the scene of the gunfight. More law enforcement cruisers sped through the hamlet on the main road, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

  Without a word, Carla turned around and drove back onto the main road to continue on, putting miles behind them.

  “You know,” Raylan said, “I’m rethinking the idea of going after Janowski. Looking at the odds tells me we have a better chance if we run and hide than if we try to kill him. He’s using himself as bait to draw us in.”

  She looked over at him and smiled. “Yeah. With all the new and different mistakes out there waiting to be made, why keep repeating the same ones?”

  He laughed. “Well, once Janowski’s dead, this death hunt is over. Unless…”

  “What?” In the dim glow from the dash instrument lights, she searched his face for any sign of what he had on his mind.

  “It’s strange that the police suddenly stopped hunting us, but there’s no word about the CIA not wanting us anymore.”

  Carla blinked. “No word, but we haven’t been bothered by company killers in a while.”

  “We haven’t had any trouble from the company since the cops stopped hunting us.” Raylan rubbed his face. “President Riley. He’s playing games. Riley and maybe the acting Director and who knows who else. Perhaps Homeland Security and National Intelligence.” He shook his head. “No. It’s Riley who needs to clean up a steaming mess he’s made. Janowski is part of that mess.”

  “What to do,” Carla said. “That’s the question.”

  “Yeah. Should we do Riley’s dirty work? And if we do, what do we get for a prize? Does Riley call off the dogs for good or sic them on us again?”

  Chapter 20

  President Riley stood in the Oval Office and greeted Trey as if he were a long-lost son, giving him a firm hug. “I’m so happy you’re safe. How are Abigail and the children?”

  Trey didn’t fall for what he considered to be a show for his benefit. “They’re all well.”

  “Good to hear. Have a seat. We need to talk about what James did.” Riley sat on a chair in front of him. “I want you to know James acted on his own. I knew nothing about his plan to have you killed until you disappeared. That day. The day he stabbed me. I asked him if he had any idea where you were. Well, his response didn’t satisfy me, so I pressed him for the truth, and as he kept eluding the question, I became more and more suspicious. Finally, I told him I was calling a Secret Service agent in to have him arrested.” He touched his chest. “Dulling went nuts. I had no choice. I fired in self-defense.” He grew misty-eyed.

  Trey looked on, not displaying any clue as to whether he believed Riley or not.

  Riley continued. “After all of that, I thought James must have had you killed. Still, I instructed the DOJ, CIA – everyone – to search for you and your family.” His face washed over in glee. “You can imagine my relief when I learned you’re alive and well.”

  “So,” Trey said, “I’m to go back to work as if nothing happened?”

  Riley didn’t need to think over his answer. He had rehearsed this moment countless times, predicting all possible questions. “In a way yes.” He slid to the edge of his seat, moving closer. “But I have not been doing my job as usual.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m cleaning up James’s mess.”

  “It wasn’t just Dulling,” Trey said, in a flat tone.

  “First things first.”

  Trey stared impassively at Riley. “I see. What about the two CIA spooks?” he asked, leaving the big question for later.

  “The wants and warrants have all been canceled. They’re home free.”

  “They don’t know that.”

  “They will.” Riley sat up straight. “Announcements informing the public and therefore them, about the police no longer searching for them have been made, and they will figure out soon enough that the CIA is out of the picture too.” He raised a shoulder dismissively. “They’re both pros; they’ll get the message soon enough.”

  “I still don’t think you’re telling me the whole story with those two.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” Riley said. “There is Janowski, though. He wants Maddox dead for killing his son. You may have read in the papers about those two ex-agents slaughtering many powerful men in the international crime syndicates.” He raised an eyebrow. “That certainly made a lot of enemies for them.”

  “Let me guess,” Trey said. “You’re using the two spooks to kill off Dulling’s business partners.”

  “No. They did that on their own. But they made a mistake when they didn’t get Janowski. You remember Janowski, the slave-selling bastard in Russia?”

  Trey nodded grimly. “Of course, nearly being killed and going into hiding with my family hasn’t caused me to lose my memory. He was one of Dulling’s darlings.”

  Riley didn’t flinch. “Was. Anyway, Maddox knows he wants him, so Maddox, being the proactive type, is after Janowski. Baylor, well, she seems to be with Maddox.” Riley tried to read Trey’s face as he talked. “And she seems to be the kind of woman you want on your side.”

  Trey stared back, trying to read Riley as Riley tried to read him. “I think this country owes them both an announcement that they are free of all charges and can go live their lives.”

  “We’ve already covered that.” Riley seemed to be confused. “And as I said, they are free of all charges.”

  “I will not hold anything over your head, Mr. President,” Trey said, in a solemn voice. “What I have learned through the course of my employment with the NSC and my relationship with you, I will take with me to the grave. But I will make my objections known to you whenever I feel obligated by my conscience to do so. I will repeat that I feel you should announce that you have called off the CIA dogs and that those two are free to live their lives. Using them to kill Janowski is wrong. The U.S. Government has plenty of trained killers under its employ to do the job. There’s no need to get a freebie from two retired agents.”

  Riley recoiled. “Wow. You’re really putting on airs, aren’t you?”

  “Call me an uppity nigger if you want, Mr. President, but my objection still stands.”

  Riley’s jaw dropped. “You have me confused with James. I’ve never had that kind of mind-set with you or any other minority.”

  Trey hadn’t taken his eyes off Riley. “I believe you. Unfortunately, there’s that other problem; the big one: Mita Agenziano.”

  Riley didn’t seem in the least surprised Trey had brought her up. “I was going to get around to that. But first let’s finish with the two ex-agents…”

  ~~~

  Carla pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of an open-all-night department store. Dawn proclaimed the birth of a new day with brilliant colors splashed across the eastern sky. They stopped off there to buy more duffel bags to keep their weapons hidden from public view and to grab a newspaper. They needed the classifieds to search for another vehicle. The stolen Jeep was an invitation to be pulled over by police.

  Raylan stepped out and leaned in before closing the door. “You want me to get something for you? They have subs in the deli. At least it’ll stop the hunger pangs.”

  She shook her head. “No time to eat. We need to get this stuff in bags and out of sight and then dump this hot Jeep ASAP.”

  He nodded in agreement and walked away at a fast clip.

  ~~~

  It turned out they didn’t need the classifieds. Raylan had his head buried in the papers, searching for a vehicle to purchase when Carla pulled off the road and parked in front of a motor home that had a for sale sign on the windshield. “Have you made up your mind?” she asked.

  Raylan looked up at her, his face a
question mark. “Huh?”

  She stared back at him, her mood serious. “I’m with you either way. Are we going to fight or run?”

  He slid closer and kissed her. “Our chances are at least a little better if we run. Maybe a lot better.”

  “And?”

  “I’m tired, Carla. I’m tired of worrying about you. Janowski isn’t your fight, and I have no right to drag you into this shit. If the world wants to let trash like Janowski exist, why is it our job to take him out? His killers may find us in the end, but you and I both know that our luck is going to run out if we keep getting into gunfights like we have lately. I think it’s time to go back to running and hiding.”

  “Just leave me out of the equation, and I’ll accept your decision either way.”

  He touched her face. “That’s impossible. You are part of this, part of me.” He sighed and looked out the window. “A cold calculation of the facts…” He noticed the motor home for the first time. “So that’s what’s on your mind.” He nodded. “We can try that. See parts of the country we’ve never seen. The company doesn’t seem to be after us anymore and the law has been called off. We can stay at RV parks a night or two here and there, but most nights we’ll have to spend in a park or forest out of sight. Might be able to find someone willing to rent us a parking space and utilities hookup on their land. We get tired of that, we can sell the motor home and do something else. Sooner or later, though, I’ll have to find a job.”

  “Sooner or later our past will catch up with us again,” she added. “But until then, I would rather spend that time with you.” She wiped her face. “We’re not likely to grow old. We’ve made too many enemies. Powerful men on both sides of the law hate us. The American people have been told we’re traitors.”