by M Carr
“Oh Lord, this doesn’t look good for Joel’s reelection,” the deputy observed. “Let’s just see if we can pick up any clues.”
They found a freshly discarded syringe on the floor behind the tack room door. Buck bagged it for analysis and dusted a few things for prints but told them not to hold out too much hope on any of them being conclusive. None of the prints was clean.
Jake was getting really frustrated by now. He wanted answers and needed to be doing something. Buck tried to calm him but to no avail.
“Come on, partner,” Jim said forcefully. “Let’s go home and do some brainstorming and get some food. You’ll think more clearly on a full stomach.”
They decided to leave the Ranger but took Jill’s phone with them in case she called. Mirza planted a bug in the truck on the off chance she returned.
“You must call to me if you find the men who are growing the anthrax. My brother is with them and I must find him to talk some sense into his head before he gets into more trouble,” Mirza said.
“I don’t know what more we can do but if we find anything we’ll let Halloran know.”
Jim drove on the way back. “Jake, would Bob use Jill to get at you? I know he dislikes you.”
“Get at me for what?” Jake growled, rubbing his head. “I’ve never done anything to him. In fact, I hadn’t spoken to him in years until he started playing golf with Jill.”
Jake thought for a moment. “Unless it’s the cattle theft thing? I did find the anthrax cow and call the authorities. If they hadn’t used some of our certificates, I wouldn’t have been involved.”
“It’s got to be for something one of you has or knows,” Jim reasoned. “Did we check the Porta-Vet for missing items?”
“I checked, but nothing big or obvious was gone and it wasn’t ransacked. Maybe she would rather be with him than me.” He tapped his knuckles on the window glass restlessly.
“We’re pretty sure she was drugged. That doesn’t sound voluntary.” Jim was feeling pretty agitated as well as they neared the Gundersens’. What was he going to tell Tina? The sisters were extremely close.
Tina came out of the house as soon as the truck pulled up. She could tell by the look on their faces something was wrong. Jim jumped out as soon as the engine was stopped and took her by the shoulders.
“We think Jill might have been abducted by that guy Mattson but we don’t know anything yet for sure.”
“What? Why? Make sense, Jim.”
Jake spoke up. “Mattson was involved in stealing cows and the anthrax cows were on his property, so we know he is into something illegal but we don’t know the extent or why he would take Jillian.” As he spoke he opened the back door of his truck and pulled down the seat. A locked metal box spanned the back wall of the cab. It contained a shotgun and some shells, a Beretta nine-millimeter pistol, and two combat knives, as well as ammo.
“You really are a dark horse,” Jim said, looking through the side window.
Jake pulled the pistol out and checked the action, then loaded it. He did the same with the shotgun and put both back in the rack and closed everything up without locking it. His face was composed and resolute. Jim had seen that look before. It was the face of a soldier about to go into combat.
They all went into the house for dinner, but no one felt much like eating. Jake paced like a caged tiger and snapped at anyone who dared speak to him.
Jim pulled Tina aside and told her he was going to stick to Jake like glue.
“That man has something on his mind, and I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get himself in legal trouble doing it.”
About the tenth time he heard Tina ask why Bob would take her sister and where he would go, something popped into Jake’s head. He ran for the phone book in the hall table.
“Damn. The Mattsons aren’t listed.” He slammed the book down.
“Old Mrs. Mattson runs the Sunday school, Uncle Jake,” Vanessa volunteered. “Wait, I should have her number.”
Jake grabbed the Sunday school booklet from her hands, then thought better and gave her a big hug and kissed her forehead. His normally steady hands were shaking as he dialed.
“Hello, Mrs. Mattson, this is Jake Gundersen.” He listened for a minute. “Yes, Lars’s grandson.”
Another pause. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
“Do you and Mr. Mattson still own that piece of property up near Fairbank? Your father-in-law used it for hunting and fishing? There’s a cabin on it and a workshop?
“You do? No, no particular reason. A friend just wanted to know if you still had it. I think he’s looking to rent somewhere. Thank you, ma’am. Yes. Good-bye, now.
“Lying like that makes me sweat.” Jake pulled at his collar. “I’ve got an idea where she could be.” He picked up his phone again and dialed Halloran. The phone went to voice mail, and Jim heard him leave a message saying that the Mattsons owned several tracts of land around the county and several would be good hiding places.
He went into the kitchen and tried to act normal. He downed an iced tea and ate a piece of fried chicken, all the while keeping an eye on the clock. The homeland security agent didn’t call back.
About dusk, Jake quietly slipped out. Jim slid into the passenger seat before he could start the engine. Jake looked like he was about to throw Jim out. An eight-inch knife and the pistol were next to him. The shotgun lay across the back seat.
“Partners, remember? And hopefully soon-to-be family.”
Jake nodded. “I think I know the place he would take her.”
“And we are going to call in the cavalry right?”
“They want to catch the bad guys and prosecute. I just want Jill back.”
“They won’t endanger her life.”
“They sent a guy with a Cobalt to tail a Mercedes roadster. Let’s check it out first. He might not even be there.”
n a wooded area a few miles outside of Fairbank, they pulled into a dirt path. There was a sign saying it was private hunting grounds. Jake parked his truck as far off the path as the trees would allow. While he was gathering gear, Jim was texting their location to Halloran, whom he had already alerted.
Jake came around the truck and handed Jim a flashlight and the shotgun. “Here. Army guys need bigger sticks.”
Jim rolled his eyes and took the gun. “What is this place?” he asked.
“Mattson’s grandfather built a cabin on some ground he set aside for hunting. He and my granddad were good buddies. I hunted and fished with them here as a kid.”
“Well good. At least you know the layout.”
Jake pointed out tire marks. The dirt path showed quite a bit of recent traffic. It made them extra cautious.
Staying in the shadows, they followed the path until they came to a large clearing. Jim could see the newly risen moon glinting off the surface of a pond. Across the meadow was a cabin against the edge of a mature stand of trees. There were lights in the windows, but the shades were drawn.
Looking through his binoculars, Jake could make out at least three vehicles. The nearest was a red SUV like the one that had followed him. They skirted the pond, hugging the shadows and moving quickly with little noise.
For a big guy with a fake foot he sure can move like an Indian stalking a deer, Jim thought to himself as he sent an SOS and ASAP text to Halloran.
There was one sedan and two SUVs in front of the cabin and a lot of activity in the barn, which stood about twenty-five feet from the back of the cabin. Jake squatted down and signaled Jim up beside him.
“How soon?” he whispered.
“’Til what?”
“Reinforcements, I know you have been in contact.”
“They shouldn’t be far behind.”
“I’m going to scout. See if I can get a head count and find out if she’s here. This is a good sniper position. Stay here.”
“Yes sir, Lieutenant,” Jim said under his breath after Jake crawled away. This is absolutely unreal. Combat procedures in rural Iowa? Hope
fully these guys are just a bunch of sportsmen and we’ll all have a good laugh about this. Trouble is, it’s not hunting season.
Jim heard the snick of a rifle bolt, and suddenly it got very real. He put his hands up and turned to look into the face of a man dressed in fatigues and carrying an AK-47. Jim stood up slowly. Cold sweat broke out on his body. He had never faced a loaded gun, even in Iraq. The gun wielder gestured him toward the cabin.
They hadn’t gone thirty paces when he heard a small sound behind him and cautiously turned to see Jake quietly dropping his captor into the dirt. He threw something white onto the ground.
“What did you do?”
Jake showed him a bottle of halothane, an anesthetic they used daily.
Jim grinned and helped Jake bind and gag their prisoner. They pulled him off into the taller grass.
“Get the shotgun,” Jake said, picking up the Kalashnikov. “There are at least two others on foot patrol. I counted four outside the shed and an unknown number inside. We’re going to cut their power.”
“Jake, let’s go back and wait for Halloran.”
He shook his head. “We still don’t know if Jill might be here or if she’s hurt.” He led the way up a small hill behind the buildings. Jim could see where the power line came down through the trees. Two shots were fired from the direction of the man they had just tied up. Lights came on all over, and four heavily armed men burst out of the house. The door to the barn was slammed shut.
Both men went down on their bellies quickly and hid their faces. Jake was to the left of Jim, and the latter hoped his partner couldn’t see everything he could because the back end of what looked to be a red sports car was sticking out from behind an evergreen tree.
A man with an automatic weapon went by not ten yards from their position. The two vets froze and held their breath until he passed.
Jake whispered to Jim, “If the shooting starts pick and run, but only if you have a good shot.” He handed Jim the keys. “Work your way back to the truck if you can do it safely. Watch out for Halloran’s guys. We don’t know how many there will be or if they’re trigger-happy. I don’t want Tina mad at me too.” He moved off quietly toward the north and darkened side of the cabin.
“Oh great, here everything was going so well and now I discover I’m working for Rambo,” Jim said as he picked a target in the clearing. The men down there were hiding themselves under the direction of the man Jim had a bead on. The lights went out again, and he cursed. His certain shot was now less so.
Jake worked his way up close to the west side of the cabin. The windows were open, but he could hear no sounds from within. He peeked into a window, which proved to be a bedroom. He could see out into the living room. Jill was in a chair with her hands taped. White-hot anger flashed through his veins when he saw her trapped hands, the bump on her forehead, and the fear on the face he cherished above any other. He took a moment to get himself under control. Marine corps training emphasized over and over that emotion and good decisions were opposites on the field of battle.
The window was fairly close to the ground but a bit smaller than he wanted to try to crawl through. He sneaked around to the front of the house and got some luck. The front door was hanging wide open, left swinging when the armed men had run out. He slipped inside the entry. He could just make out a man’s leg from where he crouched.
He heard Jill’s voice. It sounded strained but under control. “Bob, now that we’re alone, put the gun down and tell me what’s going on. I’m no threat to you.”
Jake heard the sound of something heavy being placed on the table, then Mattson’s voice.
“It wasn’t you I wanted, Jill. I wanted that bastard Gundersen. I thought he took the horse calls. They want him dead, and I wouldn’t kick if he were eliminated. You showed up, so we’ll just use you as bait. Ole Jake will get a phone call tomorrow morning that will lure him in and then, wham.”
“Jake is smart. He won’t fall into your trap.”
“He won’t know it’s there until it’s too late. I’m afraid he will die from anthrax.” He paused as a shadow of remorse crossed his face. “When I rented out the other farm, I never dreamed these guys were anything more than a meth lab, and where’s the harm in that? But they aren’t. They’re growing anthrax that can’t be killed. And that smug bastard gets to test it.”
“Bob, you do realize there is a vaccine for anthrax? Servicemen get it routinely,” Jill said.
“Do you mean that big fuck is immune?”
Jill nodded her head.
“Shit! Why does nothing ever work out? And I can’t believe you would choose him over me.” Bob was ranting now. “You do know he’s a coldblooded killer. Do you know what a Marine Expeditionary Unit is? It’s nothing more than an eighteen-man death squad, and he was their boss.”
Ignoring the comments about Jake, she said very quietly, “Everyone is outside. Let’s just sneak away. We could go anywhere you want.”
“Are you trying to trick me?” He picked up the pistol and waved it around.
“No, I think you’ve gotten into a very bad situation and need help to get out. Let me help you.”
Atta girl, stall for time and get him thinking you’re his only friend. Good tactics, Jake silently approved.
By this time, he had worked his way down the hall and into the kitchen. The first thing Bob or Jill knew of Jake’s presence was him forcing Bob to the floor with his gun against the man’s head.
“Jake,” Jill said, “don’t kill him, please.”
An irritated look crossed Jake’s face, and he didn’t even look at her as he stripped Bob of his gun. “We are going to very quietly get up and go out that front door. Do you have keys to any of the vehicles?”
“Behind the front door.” Bob moaned as Jake twisted his arm up behind him.
Jake reached back into the kitchen and grabbed the duct tape sitting on the table. He fastened Bob’s hands behind his back and taped his mouth shut, then, using an enormously scary knife, freed Jill’s hands.
Jake half-carried Mattson toward the door. They heard the sound of the back door, and he shoved Bob into the front bedroom. He put a finger to his lips and pushed Jill in behind.
Not expecting trouble, the man came in with his gun slung over his shoulder. It was his last mistake. The ex-marine slammed him over the head with the rifle he had taken and repeated the halothane trick. As the man went down Jake did a double take, recognizing him as a driver for the rendering service in Buchanan County.
Now was not the time to puzzle over it. Jake pulled Jill and Mattson from the room and gestured them toward the door. Mattson looked back and saw a body. Thinking the worst, he gagged. Jake had to pull the tape off his mouth to keep him from aspirating the vomit that rose in his throat.
Jill was somewhat dazed, and Jake supported both of them as they made their way to the closest SUV. He told Jill to get in the driver’s side. He shoved Mattson into the passenger seat.
“There are government agents out there. I’ll call and tell them you are coming. Don’t drive in a straight line. I don’t know if any of the gunmen will have this car in sight,” he said as he fastened Bob into the seatbelt to keep him from harming Jill. Before closing the door he looked her straight in the eye and said, “I don’t kill unless there is no other way, and I don’t kill pathetic, unarmed men.” He closed the door quietly and disappeared behind one of the numerous evergreens.
Jill tried to start the car, but her eyes were tearing so much she couldn’t see the ignition. She finally got the key in and with shaking hands started the engine. She put it in gear and headed out. She was stopped by Halloran’s men just on the other side of the pond. They asked how many men there were and their exact positions. She gave them what knowledge she had and sat in the SUV shaking and trying not to cry. Finally, they directed her toward Jake’s pickup and told her to wait there. They ignored Bob completely.
There was a command post set up, and Jill pulled over. She got out, leaving
Bob where he was with his hands still tied, and moved up close to the open door of one of the vehicles so she could hear their radio communications.
She heard a voice say, “Have made contact with Gundersen.” The voice went on to direct his men to certain positions and told them to attack on his signal. At least fifteen other disembodied voices quietly checked in. There was a pause and then a voice through a bullhorn that could almost be heard without the radios.
“This is Agent Westin of the Department of Homeland Security. You are surrounded. Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up.”
Intense gunfire erupted immediately. Jill buried her face in her hands. She prayed that Jake would be safe.
Agent Halloran came up to her. “Don’t worry, my guys will have sent the civilians to the rear as soon as they got the layout and enemy positions.”
“Civilians? Who else is here?”
“Both of your guys, Gundersen and Cullen.”
They heard a voice over the radio say, “They are retreating into the barn. Use caution. We don’t know what’s in that barn.”
She heard Jake’s voice. “There is a tornado shelter under that barn. It has a tunnel that leads to the house. Give me a man, and I’ll show him where it comes out.”
The answer was drowned out by an explosion and more intense gunfire. Jill felt chilled in spite of the warmth of the evening as she listened intently to every communication.
Jake and Agent Westin were already on their way into the house when the grenade was thrown from the barn. They were pelted with debris but unharmed. They entered the kitchen and Jake showed Westin a place to hide. They heard boots on the stairs as several of the terrorists headed up so they could fire down on the FBI and homeland security agents from the windows. Jake quickly ran around through the living room, and Westin shot anything moving from his vantage point in the kitchen. He radioed their position and intentions of entering the barn through the tunnel to his men as he fired.
Jake took out two men before return fire rained down from the stairway. He fired five quick shots blindly around the corner and heard with satisfaction Westin’s shot from the kitchen and a yell from the assailant on the stairs, followed by the thump of him falling down.
