Goosebumps swept over and through Harley. He could breathe. Sucking in a deep lungful of air, he blew it out slowly. And then another. The knot in the back of his neck diminished. The black feeling faded. Okay. Alex can stay.
“Besides.” Alex leaned in so close Harley wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss him or bite him. “You needed to survive that day so you could keep Durrant from killing my Kelsey. That’s another mission you ran head first into. No one could have done it but you. Only you.”
Harley nodded. That helped. He lifted his head high again. He wasn’t a waste of skin. “Thanks,” he croaked, his throat nearly too dry to speak.
Alex released him. “No. Thank you.”
“It’s getting dark again.”
The afternoon sun began its lazy descent toward the western horizon. Of course, Raymond noticed. He resembled a grumpy child who needed a long nap and maybe a time-out. Spending the night with a twenty-five-year old afraid of the dark wasn’t her idea of fun either.
“It gets dark every day, doesn’t it?”
“But I don’t want to be out here in the dark again cuz there might be a skunk with some poisonous gas, and he might spray me, and that wouldn’t make me very happy cuz then I wouldn’t be very happy, and then I wouldn’t smell so good neither, and everyone might call me stinky Fred.” He sucked in a deep breath.
Kelsey had to smile. If nothing else, he could get a lot of words into one Raymond-sized sentence. “What would you like to do?”
“I wanna get out of these stupid trees. They is bugging me.” To prove his point, he picked up his pace. His effort didn’t last long. In minutes, Raymond was on the ground again.
Kelsey knelt beside him, holding his hand while he struggled for air. “Calm down. Take slow breaths. You’ll be fine.”
This breathing attack was the worst. It seemed harder for him to draw in sufficient air, as if his lungs were compromised along with his heart. Or maybe they weren’t as big as the rest of him. Maybe they didn’t develop enough at birth to support the giant he’d become. Whatever. She was more worried for him than spending another night in the woods.
She breathed slow and steady so he’d follow her example. He leaned back, drumming his fingers anxiously on his chest.
“Don’t get excited.” Kelsey peered into his face. His eyelids fluttered before they closed again. She panicked. This was not how his story was going to end, not after all they’d been through.
“Wake up.” She patted his cheek harder when he gave no response. Her hand snaked out in fear. She struck him once, twice, and a third time. His head barely moved from the impact. Terror seized command. With one knee in his chest, Kelsey hit him again, tears blurring her vision. “Don’t you die. We made a deal.”
One big hand clutched her wrist before she could make contact again. “Stop it. Why is you hitting me?”
She flung her arms around his neck and burst into tears. The stress of the last two days sneaked up on her. “I’m so sorry. You stopped breathing. You scared me. Don’t you ever do that again.”
When she pulled back, he put one big finger under her eye and wiped the tears away. “You didn’t hit me very hard, cuz you is not big enough to hurt me cuz I’m a big guy. It didn’t even hurt. Please don’t cry.”
Wiping her face with the heel of her hand, she blew out a deep sigh to steady her frazzled nerves. “Stay here and rest. I’ll collect firewood.”
“But I don’t wanna sleep in the woods again.”
“Me either.” What she wouldn’t give for a hot bath. Their food and water were nearly gone. The prospect of surviving seemed awful darned bleak. Kelsey leaned to her back on the ground alongside her sad friend. The firewood could wait.
“I wanna hamburger,” he wailed. “And I want fries. A extra big bag. And hot. And lots of ’em.”
It was easier not to argue. He was hungry, and the whole world knew hungry boys were grumpy boys. Now was not the time to argue with a five-year-old having a temper tantrum. Raymond would have to come to his own decision about all those big demands he had.
“The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is take a hot bath,” she offered quietly. “Then I’ll fix you the biggest hamburger you’ve ever seen, and maybe a chocolate cake. Alex will make you a platter of fries so big you can swim in them.”
When no response came from her camping buddy, she risked a sideways glance. Big tears streaked down the side of his head. His bottom lip stuck out so far an eagle could have perched on it. Her heart fell. Poor Raymond. The innocence radiating from him overwhelmed her. He rubbed the tears away with one swipe of his hand, still staring overhead and blinking.
“I’d be lost without you,” she added quietly.
She felt it then, the tear-dampened hand searching across the grassy earth between them. When he found what he was looking for, he plopped his palm over the back of hers and there they lay. His attack was over.
“The sky is blue,” he stated simply, patting her hand and snuffling. “The trees are big, and you is my bestest friend in the whole world.”
Another thump of his hand on hers and Kelsey blinked a tear away. Some people might view him as an idiot, but Raymond had just summarized what was essential in life, and he’d done it very well. Poor Raymond. How many times had this extra big little boy cried himself to sleep because no one cared if he lived or died?
“Only very strong men are brave when they’re scared,” she said. “That’s what makes them heroes. They do what’s right no matter how scared they are. You are my hero, Raymond.”
“I is?”
Kelsey sighed. Her head hurt and she was tired, but her heart swelled with gratitude for the simple man at her side. “All we can do is stick together. I’ll take care of you, and you take care of me.”
“I is gonna take good care of you.”
“I know,” she whispered, no doubt in her mind.
It took a little longer, but eventually she settled him down for the night and built another campfire. They ate a meager dinner and drank the last of their water. High in the dark branches overhead, an owl hooted. Feathered wings whispered as the predator floated on its nightly hunt. Something made a short squeak, probably a meal for owlets in some far off hollowed-out tree. Kelsey shivered in the evening chill. Mother Nature had a mean streak.
“You got sparks in your eyes,” Raymond said quietly.
She turned to look at him, unaware he’d been watching. “Sparks?”
He scooted into a more upright position. “Ah huh, kinda like the fire is in ’em, and the air smells really good. I like it a lot.”
“Are you cold?” She moved closer to his side, her palms testing the temperature of the sleeping bag. One shooting spark could spoil everything.
“Nope. I not cold. I Raymond,” he said slyly.
She had to look twice. He’d just cracked a joke.
“What you’d really like is a cheeseburger though, huh?” she teased back.
“Yeah.”
A sound caught her attention, footsteps along the path between her and the paved road. Her heart kicked in. The forest hushed. She pushed to her feet, her fingers around the spear. A fist-sized stone filled her other hand. The bolo dangled from that same wrist. It wasn’t much, but who knew? Luck might be on her side tonight.
She cocked her arm and swallowed hard, her body trembling with what was to come. Raymond looked up at her, but there was no time to offer solace.
God, help me kill her. Kelsey cringed, ashamed she had prayed for another’s death, even one so wicked as Ethel Durrant.
Two men stepped out of the dark.
“Whoa. Hold on. Put that thing down.” One of them had his palms forward in submission. “You wouldn’t happen to be Kelsey Stewart, would you?”
Twenty
“Roy. Connor. Do you copy?” Murphy’s voice sounded clear as a bell in their earpieces.
“What’s up?” Roy answered.
Night was falling. Shadows stretched across Capital Hill.
He and Connor were out walking, mostly to squelch Connor’s agitation with the Bureau. In true bureaucratic fashion, they’d officially taken over surveillance of the fast food truck. To prove their superiority over their hired help, they’d gone directly to Murphy to make sure Roy and Connor heard it through their chain of command. Hands off.
Connor was ticked to the bone, but Roy shrugged it off as the usual, petty nonsense. He didn’t care who took down the sniper as long as someone did. They’d still fulfill the terms of their contract though, watching the crowd of tourists for anything suspicious, and taking pictures as they walked. For now, Connor stood on Pennsylvania Avenue, east of the Peace Monument, while Roy stood at the opposite end at Maryland Avenue, east of the James Garfield Monument.
“Looks like we got another local hero,” Murphy said. “Senator Hyde will address the nation at five o’clock this afternoon from the Senate Building. He’s another one against funding DoD. Thought you should know since you’re closest to his location.”
“Don’t these guys get it?” Roy exclaimed in disgust. “They need to keep their big mouths shut until we catch the guy.”
“Know what you mean. The FBI tried to shut the press conference down but Hyde is one determined guy. You want to talk with Alex? He might be in shortly.”
“Sure don’t.” Roy couldn’t resist the opportunity to torment Connor. “Not if he’s still singing the praises of some new junior agent. The kid’s already got a fathead, can barely squeeze through the van door as it is.”
“I heard that.” Connor’s cool, calm voice replied.
“Where’s Alex?” Roy asked.
“Back at the hospital,” Murphy answered. “I think he was out looking for Kelsey earlier.”
“Any more news?”
“Not since the photos yesterday.”
“We need to finish this op,” Connor said. “We should be helping our boss, not the FBI.”
“I’m all for it,” Murphy said.
“How’s the facial rec program going?” Connor asked. “Any solid leads?”
Roy smiled. The kid had proved his worth in aces, no doubt about it. He’d come up with the idea to run all their surveillance photos through Ember’s program. As fast as Ember downloaded the images they’d acquired, her program bumped every face in them against federal, state, and local records. Plenty of interesting data on people with a multitude of misdemeanors and petty charges popped to the surface, but none who fit the sniper profile close enough for a second look. Not yet anyway.
“Why? You got more pictures?”
“In fact I do,” Connor answered. “Tell her I’m emailing another batch right now. It’s a big file. Hope my phone can handle sending it.”
Roy listened as Murphy relayed the message. What kids could do with their cell phones these days. “Hey, Murph. You guys work all night again?”
“Until we find Kelsey,” Murphy replied. “David staked out Alex’s home last night, but whoever brought the pictures did not show again.”
“So aside from yesterday’s three photos, we’ve got nothing,” Connor stated the obvious.
That finished the conversation.
“Talk to you guys later.”
“Copy that,” Roy replied.
“Senator Hyde should be safe if he stays in his office, shouldn’t he?” Connor asked.
“One would think so.” Roy scanned the multitude of tourists west of the Capitol. Sniper or not, Americans seemed willing to take their chances. “But I doubt that’s where he’ll hold a press conference. He’ll be in the rotunda. It’s all about face time. The more reporters, the merrier.”
“You want to know what the words on this monument say?” Connor asked quietly.
“Sure. What’s it say?”
“Well, first of all, it’s the Peace Monument. It commemorates the men who were lost at sea during the Civil War. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t, but that’s cool.” Roy faced north, watching his junior agent gaze up at the stone monument nearly the length of the Capitol building away. That alone was quite a picture, a blond-haired young man with his face tilted upward in reverence.
“It’s two women. One symbolizes Grief; the other’s History. Anyway, Grief is crying on History’s shoulder. It’s really something.”
“So what’s it say?” Roy had seen a lot of monuments the last two days. They all said something great.
“It reminds me of two mothers who just got notification their boys were killed in action.” Connor coughed, his fist lifted to his lips. “It says, ‘They died that their country might live.’”
Roy knew all about those seven eloquent words. This particular monument must remind Connor of his mother, Bridgette, a widow who’d raised seven sons and now faced the reality of them all following in Connor’s footsteps. The Corps was a noble profession, but a heartbreaker for most moms. Out of those seven sons, four were already jarheads. She’d lose the others as soon as they graduated from high school. Bridgette should be proud, but the patriotism she’d instilled in her young men came at a high price. That was another reason Roy liked this junior agent. Connor loved his mom.
“This op getting to you, kid?” he asked softly.
Connor cleared his throat and shook his head, but Roy caught the quick swipe across his eyes. “Nah. It’s just a cool statue. Made me think. So many good men and women have died so people like Hyde can practice free speech and shoot their mouths off.”
“Stop thinking. It’s getting late. Let’s get back to the van.”
Roy waited for his partner to cross the distance. The kid might be girl crazy, but he was one of the few and the proud. Men didn’t come much better.
“Let’s grab a sandwich,” he suggested when their van came into view. “No sense everyone staring at the truck. It isn’t going anywhere.”
“Oh no?” Connor pointed at the vehicle in question. “Look. Is it… smoking?”
Roy followed Connor’s direction. Sure enough, a misty vapor wafted out of the cab window. “Was the front window opened before?”
Conner unholstered his pistol. “Don’t know, but something ain’t right. You coming?”
Roy contacted Mother to advise they were both moving to investigate. A black FBI sedan rolled by as Connor stepped off the curb.
“What’s up?” Roy asked the agents, nodding toward the target.
“Not sure,” the agent in the passenger seat said. “Stand back though. No sense all of us sticking our necks out.”
“It’s not smoke,” Connor advised. “Looks different. Be careful.”
“You’ve got that right.” The agent chuckled. “We’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Might be a job for hazmat,” Roy warned. “Maybe you guys ought to hang back. Let’s call for backup.”
“The Bureau isn’t afraid.” Their car rolled forward.
“Can’t say you didn’t warn them.” Connor crossed the street following the sedan.
“They think they’re so smart, let them handle it,” Roy said. “Do not approach.”
“Don’t plan to,” Connor assured him, speaking through his earpiece now. “But I can see the customer window better from this side. No canvas tarp today.”
“Copy that.”
“Are we sure it’s the same truck?” Connor asked as the FBI agents parked their sedan in front of the vehicle in question as if they intended to block its getaway.
Roy grimaced. If the fumes coming from the truck window were toxic, the FBI was about to lose two men. “Dumb asses.”
“You talking to me?” Connor stood a safe distance from the scene while both FBI agents approached the vehicle, their guns drawn, their intent obvious.
“Only if you’re dumb as they are. Hang back. If they want to be first on the scene, let ’em.” Roy was halfway across the street when he stopped to watch. Both FBI agents were on Connor’s side of the truck, their weapons drawn. One rapped against the closed window. The other assumed firing position, his left foot forw
ard, his weapon cupped and pointed at the cab.
“You ought to see this,” Connor said quietly. “The truck is parked directly over a—”
WHOOSH!
A tremendous shockwave knocked Roy to his knees. Smoke poured from the vehicle, now a white-hot carcass with burning truck parts plummeting back to earth. He brushed the stinging smoke out of his eyes.
“Connor?” Roy scrambled to his feet. The steady ringing in his ears made his earpiece useless. Another fireball belched out of the gaping hole that used to be the cab. Burning wreckage turned into spinning shrapnel. He ran across the street and into the frag zone. This was no ordinary fire. “Connor!”
He hit the curb, brushing ash out of his eyes. When the billowing smoke lifted, Roy saw him standing with his hands over his face and wreckage at his feet.
“Don’t look at it!” Roy ran to his junior agent. The odor of burned flesh struck his nose. He knew without looking. The FBI agents were dead.
Connor faced him, his jaw working but no sound coming out, and Roy saw why. The kid’s face was blistered and burned. Bloody tears tracked down both cheeks. He sank to his knees. “I’m hurt. I’m… I’m really hurt this time.”
The surprise in his voice ripped Roy’s heart. He grabbed the young man’s elbow, forcing him to his feet and back to their van. Soldiers always sounded shocked when they got hit, like they thought it could never happen to them. Like they were invincible. Untouchable. They weren’t. “That’s a magnesium fire, kid. A big one. Keep your head down. Don’t open your eyes.”
Connor stopped dead in the street, the panic in his voice raw. “My eyes.”
“I got that. They hurt like hell. Tried it once. I know what to do. Hang on.” Roy circled Connor’s shoulders with one arm, directing him to their van. Sirens screeched in transit. The heavy thunder of emergency vehicles vibrated underfoot, but Roy had one mission in mind. Save this kid.
“Sit,” he commanded once inside.
Connor collapsing onto the nearest seat, shaking like a leaf.
Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4) Page 17
