“Because I’m a borderline psycho?”
Lawson held his hands up.
“Your words, not mine,”
They said nothing more, and minutes later, two black SUV’s arrived. Lawson’s men gave him dirty looks, but said nothing, and they drove back to the train station in silence.
The moment the car parked, he opened the door to leave, and Lawson followed him out. He was carrying a laptop and he sat it on the hood and opened it.
“Before you go, there’s something I want you to see.”
“Is this some sort of threat?”
“No, just more information,”
He said nothing and Lawson shrugged.
“The next train isn’t for another twenty minutes; this will only take one,”
He walked back to the SUV and Lawson hit a few keys on the laptop and then angled it, so that there wouldn’t be any glare.
When he saw the picture appear, he leaned forward and stared.
“I believe that scar on her arm was a gift from your dog.”
“You know where she is?”
“We do, she’s in a speck of a town called Destina; it’s right here in Texas.”
“Why hasn’t she been arrested?”
“The local sheriff was about to do that, he’s probably dead now, he went missing right after he faxed in this picture for verification.”
He stared at the photo on the screen.
“She tried to kill my wife, twice.”
“I know.”
He looked over at the train station and then back at Lawson.
“I’m not the law. If I find her, I’ll kill her.”
Lawson smiled. “That’s the idea,”
“I’ll need a weapon.”
“Welcome aboard,”
He nodded at the man, and then went back to staring at the screen, and at the face of Hanna Jones.
CHAPTER 8
In the afternoon sun, the town of Destina, Texas was splayed out before him atop an arid, rocky landscape.
Lawson stood with him on a hill and looked down on the quiet town.
“There she is,” Lawson said, “Destina, Texas, and somewhere down there is Hanna Jones.”
He had called Jessica and told her what had happened. She then called their contacts within the FBI and asked about Lawson. Little was known about the man other than the fact that he was former CIA, but one source, FBI Special Agent Brice, said that Lawson was rumored to be deeply connected with the White House and immune to such things as a change of administrations, but the bottom line was that the man could be trusted.
“Let me take one more look at the map,” he said.
Lawson passed him an iPad and he studied the town’s layout.
“You’ve been briefed, but there’s something else that you might like to know about that town.”
“And what would that be?”
“It’s a town now, but it started as a headquarters for a cult back in the sixties... a cult founded by your grandfather, William Gant. I also know that Jeffrey Mitchell is your brother.”
He stared at Lawson for a moment, as the revelation washed over him.
“The private detective, Jake Caliber, he told me about Gant, he noticed my resemblance to the man, but I’m not certain he was my grandfather, why are you?”
“As I said before, we’ve looked into your background. When your DNA came back as a match to Jeffrey Mitchell’s, you became a person of interest. We knew that the two of you weren’t friendly by a longshot, but protocol dictated that we look into you. That’s where I came in, and the more I learned, the more I knew that you were the man for this job. Dr. Harven’s kids are fine, but their youth limits them. When I learned about your run-in with Harven, I decided to recruit you.”
“Fine, but that doesn’t explain why you’re certain I’m Gant’s grandson.”
“William Gant was rumored to have had a son, William Jr., known as Billy; Billy Gant has never been photographed, but is believed to have been behind a number of murders, murders of the former cult members who turned on his father. Blood evidence from one of the crime scenes was recently tested for DNA and came back as a paternal match for Jeffrey Mitchell... and for you.”
“So Billy Gant is my father?”
“Yes, and the suspected leader of a gang.”
“How is he able to hire so many men?”
“We suspect that he and his group are domestic mercenaries for hire, our best intel says that they’re nomadic and will work for the highest bidder.”
“Are there really no pictures of him?”
“Not one, the man’s a ghost, but he does exist. His father’s remains were exhumed and examined, and they matched the blood we believe is Billy’s, which matches yours.”
“Gant,” he whispered, and for the first time in his life, he was certain of his paternal roots.
“You might also like to know that your mother’s name was Amanda Powers,”
“I learned that recently from my mother, the woman who raised me, but why do you say was, is she dead?”
Lawson looked startled.
“Oh, no, no not that we know of, but she’s even more of a ghost than your father,”
“I think she’s hiding from him. She ran off and took Jeffrey and me with her, maybe she’s hiding from Billy, from... my father.”
“That’s our thinking too, but she’s not our concern legally, still, I’ve put her name in the search database, so if she pops up, I’ll let you know.”
“I would appreciate that, thank you,”
“All right, getting back to point, Hanna Jones is in that town and she’s there for some reason, and we believe that reason might be Billy Gant. After she and Jeffrey were snatched out of the hands of the FBI by the fathers of his victims, we reasoned they were both dead. Now, it looks like she either escaped or was set free, maybe the men had no stomach for killing a woman up close.”
“But how did she connect with Gant?”
“Perhaps Mitchell somehow knew that Gant was his father, and when Jones had nowhere else to go, she went to Gant, and now’s he’s sent her here, perhaps to search for your mother.”
“Why would my mother return to a place she ran from?”
Lawson shrugged. “To hide in plain sight, maybe,”
“Either way, Hanna’s here, and it can’t be a coincidence,”
“Yes, but keep something in mind, you might not recognized Gant, but he’s sure to recognize you, you’re the spitting image of his father, your grandfather.”
“I understand, now I’d better get ready,”
They moved to the rear of the SUV and Lawson opened up a black container and took out an arm cast. It was white with invisible hinges and was bumpy on one side.
He took it from Lawson and clamped it on his left forearm, when he did so, the bump was on the inside, and less visible.
“How do I get to the gun?”
“It’s in that bump, just smash it open, but make sure no one sees you, it might take a moment to get it out.”
“And the lock picks and key?”
“Same place, but that key should open the cell. The town’s a real Mayberry, a small Sheriff’s office with two cells, and since the sheriff went missing, there’s just the one deputy.”
“What do we know about the deputy?”
Lawson brought out the iPad again and showed him a picture of the deputy. He was a young man with curly brown hair and a mole on his cheek.
“He’s in over his head. Russell Kent, age twenty-four, grew up in Destina and is the son of a former cult member.”
He reached down, grabbed some sand and dirt, spat in it several times, and then rubbed the mixture onto the white cast, to give it a used and aged look.
Lawson grimaced.
“Damn it, we should have thought of that, the thing was too clean.”
“This cult of William Gant, what was it?”
“A doomsday cult, Gant predicted that the world would end on September 15, 1980.”
“And when it didn’t, the cult members revolted?”
“In a way, the cult came apart when Gant died, and he died on September 15, 1980,”
“Courtesy of Jake Caliber,”
“You got it.”
“Where do I find Jace?”
“Jace doesn’t know you’re coming, so you’ll have to fill him in, and watch that kid, he kills without any remorse.”
“So does nature,”
“True, but it creeps me out when a kid his age does it.”
“I’ll find him and fill him in, but all I want is Hanna Jones.”
“Here’s your ID,”
He read it.
“Mr. John White?”
“Isn’t that what Samantha Ryan calls you? Mr. White? I thought it would make a good field name.”
“What do you know about Samantha?”
“Only what I’ve read, and if half of it is true, she’ll someday be a candidate for Harven’s program, if she’s not imprisoned first.”
“She would escape as I did, she’s... gifted.”
“Right, now be careful with Hanna Jones, she’s nearly as ruthless as her late husband,”
He plucked an empty, red plastic gas can from the rear of the SUV. It was a prop, as he was to walk into town, playing the hapless motorist.
“I’ll call when it’s done,” he said, and strode off towards the town.
CHAPTER 9
“A real Mayberry,” Lawson had said, and he was right. The town looked like something from another era.
There was a movie house with an old-fashioned marquee, a small bookstore, and a drugstore with a counter that served ice cream, all three were closed,
What the town didn’t have was a trace of twenty-first century technology. The cell phone Lawson supplied him with showed no signal and when he looked for them, he realized that he couldn’t spot any cell towers, which shouldn’t have been difficult since none of the buildings were more than three stories high.
There was a main street, and it was named Main Street, with Sycamore, Pine, and Redwood Street running off it and intersecting with Second, Third, and Fourth Street.
The few people he saw either looked at him suspiciously or fearfully, and he realized that he saw no children about, and since it was a Sunday, there should be no classes.
The town’s lone gas station was open, and attended by a brute of a man named Ralph, if the name sewn on his shirt pocket could be trusted. Ralph was taller than he was and much wider, with a shaved head and the name, Marcy, tattooed on his neck.
There was no sign of Jace.
He sent Ralph a smile.
“Hey there, I could use some gas.”
Ralph looked around slowly.
“I don’t see a car.”
He held up the gas can.
“I ran out of gas on the highway.”
“Where were you headed?”
“El Paso, I have a sister there.”
“El Paso? Hell, there are quicker ways to get there,”
“Yeah, I got lost, it’s why I ran out of gas, but then I spotted your town.”
Ralph stared at him for a bit, and then turned around and walked towards the office.
“I have to get the key to the pump.”
“All right.”
He sat the gas can down. When he looked into the office, he saw Ralph on the phone. He was calling someone about him, but who? The deputy, or maybe Hanna, perhaps the Gants still held some sway in this town.
Ralph got off the phone and then just stood there.
He sent him another smile while pointing at the gas can and got a blank stare in return.
Something was going on.
He thought of going into the restroom and smashing the phony cast to free the gun, but then thought better of it. His best move right now was to acquire knowledge, and so for now he would keep playing the part of the stranded motorist.
A car rocketed down Main Street and skidded to a stop at the gas station. It was an old Ford with official markings and the word, Sherriff, painted on its sides. Two men got out, one older than him, and the other, younger. They were wearing badges and shoulder rigs, but no uniforms, and neither of them was the town’s deputy, Russell Kent.
He looked from one to the other, and then put a worried look on his face.
“Hello officers, is something wrong?”
The older of the two spoke.
“You’re coming with us; we’d like to question you.”
“About what?”
“Don’t worry about it shithead,” said the young one, “You just get your ass in the back of the car.”
For just a second, he forgot the role he was playing and sent the man a hard stare. The young man saw something in his eyes and backed up, while placing a hand on his weapon.
The older man shook his head.
“We don’t need the guns. You’re going to do like we say, right mister?”
He nodded. “Right, hey listen, I don’t want any trouble. I’m just wondering what’s going on.”
“We’ll explain at the station, now get in the car.”
He hesitated for a second, but then walked over and, after a quick pat-down, he was placed in the back seat. The men had paid no attention to the cast. The doors locked, and with the wire mesh separating the front seats from the rear, he was essentially caged.
As the car pulled away, he looked out the back window and saw Ralph staring at him again, and the look on his face told him that Ralph thought he was never coming back.
***
The Sheriff’s office was the size of a storefront and sat between a bakery and a shoe store, both of which were closed, in fact, other than the gas station, the entire town looked closed.
As you walked in, there was a counter on your right and two desks on the left. Past the counter was a doorway, and beyond that, he could see the bars on the twin cells.
He protested weakly as they took his wallet and keys, but stayed quiet as they shoved him towards the door, he also made sure to keep his left arm, the one with the cast, close to his body. When they opened the door, he saw Jace sitting in the first cell, with a bruise over one eye, while the other cell contained a man who looked badly beaten, and unconscious.
“Don’t put that dude in here with me, man; I like having the space all to myself.”
“Shut up kid,” said the older guard, and then he opened the cell and pushed him inside.
He didn’t ignore Jace, but instead, he backed up into a corner as if he feared him.
“You two play nice,” said the young guard, and then he and the other man walked out.
“What’s going on!” he shouted, but received no answer. When he heard the lock click and the sound of departing footsteps, he spoke to Jace in a whisper. “What’s going on?”
“Shit man, I don’t know what the hell is happening here. They sent me in here to track down a hot cougar and the next thing I know those fake cops are beating on me. I’ve been in here since last night.”
“Have you seen Hanna Jones?”
“The cougar? No, what, you think these are her guys?”
“Maybe, or maybe they work for Billy Gant.”
“Who?”
“It’s a long story, but what about the deputy, Kent, is he involved in this?”
“No way, man,”
“How do you know?”
Jace pointed towards the other cell.
“That’s Kent.”
CHAPTER 10
A couple of hours later, Deputy Kent stirred, moaned, and sat up on the edge of the cot. He was on the lower bunk in his cell and his head hung down towards the floor as if he were sick, or dizzy. When he finally felt better, he looked up and realized that he wasn’t alone.
“Who are you two?”
“Call me White, he’s Jace, we’re here looking for someone, but I think we’ve stumbled onto something else.”
“You can say that again, I think they’re terrorists.”
“Wha
t are they planning?”
“I don’t know, but they’ve been doing something out by the site of the old compound, on the south end of town.”
“What’s out there?”
“Nothing really, just some old trailers, mobile homes from the seventies, but they’re up to something. I talked to a witness, Eve Simmons, and she says it looked like they were making bombs, and that they murdered the sheriff.”
“What happened to the witness?”
“Hopefully she’s safe where I hid her, but she can’t stay there forever, there’s no food.”
“These people, do you know who they are?”
“I know most of them; they’ve lived around here for years. They’re all survivalists, the end is near types, but I never thought they were dangerous.”
The deputy ended his sentence with a moan, he then stood on shaky legs, limped over to the rust-stained toilet, and urinated. Afterwards, he washed his face and drank water from the sink by using his cupped hands. When he was done, he sat back down on the cot.
“How do I look?”
“You look like hell, but is anything broken?”
“I’ve a broken finger on my left hand, and a limp from a sore ankle, but there was some blood in my urine,”
“We’ll make our move when it gets dark. Are you up to it?”
“Yeah, but how are we getting out of here?”
“You’ll see then, for now, rest up,”
Kent nodded and lay back down.
Jace walked over and spoke in a whisper.
“That cast, maybe we should break it and get out now,”
“Our chances will be better once it’s dark, but I don’t want to be surprised, what time do they bring dinner?”
“They don’t. I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I think they just threw us in here to rot.”
He tossed his chin towards the deputy.
“He needs food if he’s going to be of any help. We’ll make a point of getting some when we get out.”
“All I want is one of those shotguns in that gun rack out there. Give me one of those and I’ll get food, along with anything else I want.”
He looked through the bars of the small window high up in the wall.
“It’ll be dark in an hour, that’s when we’ll make our move.”
The TAKEN! Series - Books 9-12 (Taken! Box Set Book 3) Page 5
