by Hunt, Jack
Rubbing his eyes he looked down at the two drunks and the gnarly pool of vomit in the toilet. “Oh God. Gross.” Keith Boone was already awake and sitting with his back against the wall and his arms wrapped around his knees. He glanced up at him but didn’t say anything.
Mason stepped over one of the drunks and banged on the door. He was still pissed that they’d thrown him inside, citing disorderly conduct. Amanda had been taken to a different cell for women.
“Amanda. You there?”
A few seconds passed before she replied.
“Yep.”
He dropped his head against the door and closed his eyes.
“We’ll be out of here by the end of the day,” Keith Boone muttered. “There’s no way they can keep us in these kinds of conditions, especially on these bogus charges.”
“Bogus?” Mason turned scowling at him. “If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t even be in here!”
“Hey, I didn’t do shit.”
Exhausted. Hungry. Pissed off. Mason lunged at him and fired a punch to his jaw. Keith hit back, throwing one into his stomach. He stumbled back, grimaced and pressed forward and yanked him off the bed, dragged him over to the toilet and forced his head down inside. There was a good chance he might have drowned him in that vomit had it not been for the clunk of a lock, and the door swinging open.
An officer jumped into action, grabbing Mason and dragging him out.
Before the door slammed closed, Mason saw Keith’s face covered in vomit. He chuckled, and flipped Keith the bird. Keith spat out something nasty from his mouth, and began protesting but the cell door quickly muffled his cries for mercy.
“Mason.”
Mason turned to find Sam, and Eric nearby.
“Sam.” He crossed the walkway and gripped him on the shoulder. “You okay?”
“I’m fine but you look a little shaken up.”
Once the officer was done locking the door he turned and slapped Mason on the arm. He stuck a finger in his face. “Buddy, you’re lucky. Believe me.”
With that said he strolled over to another cell and released Amanda.
After a short reunion, they were led upstairs to be processed and released.
“So they understood?” Mason asked.
Sam shook his head. “Not exactly.”
It didn’t take them long to receive back their personal belongings. As they stood waiting for the officer to process them, Sam looked out the front doors. A deep rising sun shone through the windows. Smoke filled the sky, and streaks of red and yellow stretched over the town.
“What happened last night?” Sam asked.
“Don’t even ask,” the officer said sliding an envelope across the table. Sam took it and emptied out his watch, twelve dollars in cash, his wallet and a pack of gum. He turned to walk out and Mason fell in step.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Mason asked.
“I… I have to do something. I need you go back and keep an eye on Anna.”
Mason looked back inside the department and saw Blake Dawson being released.
“It’s related to him, isn’t it?”
Sam nodded. He really didn’t want to get into it with them because he didn’t want Anna to worry. There was a very good chance they wouldn’t see each other again and he felt the less he said the better.
Mason pestered him. “Sam, where are you heading?”
He sighed and stared at the charred bones of vehicles. The street was a mess; broken glass on the ground, fire burning inside vehicles, paper covering the ground like huge snowflakes, buildings covered in graffiti and protest signs scattered everywhere. While there were still some people on the streets, most had retreated to sleep off whatever state they were in. Outside, three armed officers kept watch as he waited for Blake Dawson.
“Sam. What do you want us to tell Anna?” Amanda asked.
“I don’t know.” He had given a lot of thought to it over the night but none of it seemed reasonable. He could have told the truth but then she would worry, and he couldn’t guarantee he would be back. Sam thought back to all the operations he’d done over the years. Back when he was married to Helen he would tell her he was going overseas but he would never tell her the specifics of what he was doing. She didn’t need that troubling her mind; she had enough to deal with raising Anna.
Blake came out and rolled his head around.
“You must be Sam?” he asked.
Sam nodded.
“Blake Dawson.”
“I know,” he said. “Where are the rest?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Officer inside said they’d be out soon and to wait here.”
“Sam. I’m going with you,” Mason said.
“No, I need you to stay. Please. Keep an eye on her.”
“All right.”
Amanda gave him a hug and held on a little longer. “Stay safe,” she said in his ear before breaking away and walking off with Mason. They looked back for a second and then disappeared into the black smoke drifting across the road.
“You know I’m beginning to understand her,” Eric said. He’d been standing nearby looking out at the town that was just beginning to come to life. Although Sam was confident that there was little the police could do to him, being as it was his word against Keith Boone’s, he’d agreed to the arrangement of going with Blake on two conditions. One, Richard had to admit to Chief Sanchez that he’d lied about Sam attacking him on that night years ago. It wasn’t a matter of humiliating him though that did give him great satisfaction to see him backtrack on his original statement — it was a matter of principle, he didn’t want a criminal record. If he was going to stick his neck on the line, he wanted any record of his past to be cleared. Two, they were to attempt to get a message via ham radio to the military to provide the coordinates and update them on the situation. As much as he was used to working in small teams to achieve an objective, he wasn’t stupid. Having backup from real professionals was critical.
“Understand who?” Sam asked.
“Helen. The way she spoke about you. I uh… was planning on proposing to her when she got out of surgery but I have a feeling she would have said no.” He turned to him. “She loved you, Sam. That’s for sure.”
Sam was about to say something when the door behind them opened. An officer stuck his head out and motioned for them to follow. “The chief is going to brief the team, if you two want to step inside, we’ll get you geared up. They’re leaving in ten minutes.”
Chapter 18
As Mason turned the bend in the road leading into the neighborhood, he saw smoke rising. A thick billow of black smoke drifted across the trees and blocked the view of the home. At first he thought it was the woodland that had caught on fire, as they’d passed numerous areas that had been burned to the ground. Mostly it was vehicles that had been set ablaze, and businesses but there had been far more destroyed since yesterday.
He squinted, and then his jaw dropped.
Mason gave the engine some gas and accelerated. The derby car couldn’t go fast enough. Panic washed over him at the thought of the home being destroyed or worse — Anna and Chase attacked. They’d already seen a few people lying face down in the streets, those that had fallen under last night’s riot. No ambulances had shown up nor would they. From the little he’d gleaned from an officer before leaving the department — the previous night had been the worst they’d ever faced. While not all the hate was directed at city officials, the fights on the streets had caused them to retreat and barricade themselves in the department.
“It’s not the house,” Mason said trying to reassure Amanda. “We took precautions.”
Amanda nodded but it was clear she didn’t buy it.
He thought of all the time they’d put into securing the property. The barbed wire, the bars on the windows, the signposts, and the additional locks, all of it would have deterred intruders. Wouldn’t it?
Mason yanked the wheel hard to the right and veered into the driveway tha
t was shrouded by trees. The very second he pulled up, he slammed on the brakes, took the Glock from the glove compartment, gave it to Amanda, grabbed the AR-15 from the trunk and approached. Only the right side of the home had been destroyed. As a good portion of it was made from stone, the damage appeared to have come mainly from the inside.
He walked around the window bars on the ground and looked at the front of the home. Two of the windows had been torn away. There was a chain nearby with a rusted hook on the end. The walls were peppered with rounds and hundreds of spent shells littered the ground. Mason glanced at Amanda and back at the house. Cautiously they approached and looked through one of the open windows. It was a total disaster inside. Furniture destroyed, and the walls torn up by gunfire.
Mason threw up a hand. Amanda stopped walking. They listened carefully but there was no sound. Confident that no one was inside, they entered. Glass crunched beneath his boots as they walked into the hallway. Quickly they cleared each of the rooms on the main floor and second floor. It was like someone had gone berserk with a sledgehammer and an automatic rifle. Every window was shattered causing the cool wind to blow the drapes around.
“Anna? Chase?” Amanda yelled.
On the landing, the attic door was down. Mason went up and peered inside. At the far end he saw the vents had been busted out. Had they escaped? Or was that how the intruders entered? No, it was a good height up from the garage roof. They would have needed a ladder. However, it was possible that Chase and Anna had dropped down from there.
“Anything, Mason?”
“Hold on a second.”
He went up and crossed to the far end and looked out. Mason stared up at the ceiling and crouched down and picked up a shell. He rolled it between his fingers. Mason went back to the window and looked out before heading down to the landing.
“What did you find?” she asked. He handed her a shell and walked downstairs and into the backyard. That’s when he spotted a dead guy near the flowerbed. A large pool of blood was around his waist, and head. He crouched down and looked out towards the woodland. Where did you go?
“Mason, what are you doing?”
He went back inside and noticed blood near one of the windows at the front of the house, a first-aid kid lying open nearby and droplets of blood leading up the stairs. He went back up again. He hadn’t noticed it the first time around. He took a flashlight from his pocket and switched it on. Even though it was daytime, inside the home it was still dark. He followed the trickle of blood up the steps and into the attic. At the far end he noticed blood on the frame of the window.
When he came back down for a second time, he was lost in thought. “I think one of them was injured. Where would you go if you were shot?”
Amanda didn’t even have to answer.
They hurried out of the house and got back into the derby, and took off in the direction of the hospital.
“I don’t understand, Thorn. What the hell are you playing at?” Dmitry said.
Thorn was on the radio talking to one of his men several miles away who had dug down and was ready to tap into the HICS cable. He put up a finger to let Dmitry know that he would answer that in a second.
“No, don’t make the connection yet. Good work. Just hang tight.”
Static came out of the radio and he looked up at Dmitry. They were sitting inside the security control center and he had his feet up on the table. He placed the radio down and took out a pack of cigarettes.
“Take a seat, Dmitry. Everything is going to plan.”
He tapped out a cigarette and lit it.
“We should have launched them by now.”
“And then we would have thirty minutes to find cover.” He shook his head. “Don’t be stupid. We’ve run into a bit of a hurdle. It was to be expected. Have a little trust, my friend.”
Demitry replied through gritted teeth, “They’re not coming out.”
“They’ll come,” Thorn said confidently.
“It’s been over six hours since you turned the power back on. I don’t understand. I thought we were going to cut off their air supply?”
Thorn blew out smoke from the corner of his mouth. It spiraled up and caused him to squint. He tapped the side of his temple. “Oh my God. Did you not listen to anything I told you earlier?”
“Don’t treat me like an idiot.”
“Then don’t act like one. It was a ploy to get them out. First off, don’t act as if this is my fault. If your buddy Hector had not shot the guy here in the head,” he said pointing to the security officer who’d been manning the security control center, “we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.” He took another hard pull on the cigarette. “So we have to adapt. This launch crew obviously has a martyr complex and they’re willing to go down with the ship. In which case leaving the air off would not benefit us being as we need them alive to open the fucking door.”
“Why don’t we just using a cutting torch?”
“Um. That’s a great idea. And then when Mother Russia drops its nuclear bombs, what are we going to use to seal up the hole? Scotch tape!” He rolled his eyes. “My God, I’m surrounded by idiots.”
Dmitry got real close. He was a burly man with a bald head, icy blue eyes, and a scar down the side of his forehead from a bottle attack in a bar. He was wearing a black bomber jacket and tight blue jeans. Like many Russians, he had a no-nonsense attitude. Thorn had met him a long time ago on one of the many hacker forums. Only three out of the ten men assisting them were his friends, the rest he’d met through various acquaintances, some were known from hacker groups. Contrary to what most thought, not all hackers had the same skillset.
“You promised me!” Dmitry said.
“I promised nothing. My goal was to bring the grid down. You were the one who wanted to launch missiles. All I said was that it could be done.”
Thorn rose and straightened. He wasn’t afraid of Dmitry or any of them. Thorn exited the building. “Ron!”
Ron was waiting by the vehicles after pulling them back behind the building. He knew it was only a matter of time before the two lieutenants decided to leave. The only way they were going to get that door open was if they acted as if they’d left.
“What is it?”
“Keep your eyes on Dmitry.”
Ron looked past him towards where Dmitry was standing.
“Sure.”
Although they had known each other for a while and Dmitry had helped him escape justice in America, he didn’t trust him. He wasn’t as worried about the missiles as he was about getting a bullet in the back of the head. The guy was volatile. He couldn’t read him from one minute to the next. Dmitry had already killed others he’d worked alongside. He had serious trust issues, and worse than that, mental issues.
Thorn then tapped Ron. “When you’re ready let’s head in.”
Sam had underestimated Richard’s leverage in town. He’d managed to convince two police officers, and three local guys with military background to go with them. In the briefing, Blake had explained how he thought Thorn would try to launch the missiles, and how many they were up against. They piled into two trucks and tore out of there hoping to reach their destination just after nine that morning. Sam knew it would take longer than that due to the conditions of the road and having to pass through Denver but they’d stocked enough gasoline in canisters to get them there and back. They had mapped out two routes, one of which went east on I-70 and then north on I-25; the other would take them through Boulder.
For the most part they drove in silence.
Blake, a local guy by the name of Tim Snyder and a police officer rode with him while the others went in a separate vehicle.
“Why did you do it?” Sam asked.
Blake looked over. The steady rumble of the truck, and warm air pumping through the vents made them all look more tired than they were.
“I had no choice. He played me. Used my family.”
“I can relate to that,” Sam said.
“Your famil
y still alive?” Blake asked.
“My daughter is. My ex-wife is dead.”
“Sorry to hear that. Was it because of this?” he said looking out at the devastation.
“No. Heart issues.”
“Oh.”
There was silence for a while.
“Must be tough knowing that you were responsible for all of this,” Sam said.
“Like I said, I had no choice.”
“We always have a choice,” Sam replied. “We just might not like the consequences.”
“You’d let your daughter die so thousands could live?”
Sam shot him a glance. “What do you think I’m doing now?”
“I don’t get it.”
“My daughter is back in Breckenridge. I’m not. I can’t protect her because I’m out here trying to stop whatever shit someone else started.” He snorted. “It’s like being in the military all over again. Placing the lives of others before my family.”
“Is that why you signed up?”
“No, I just wasn’t good at anything else,” Sam replied.
“I can relate to that,” Blake said.
The truck growled down the road. Sam thought about Anna and hoped she was okay. It seemed strange but after so many years of being outside of her life he worried more about her now than before. He pushed the gas pedal and the truck soared forward. His eyes scanned the horizon of orange, yellow and green, and the jagged mountains in the distance. They’d taken a few detours along the way due to blocked roads but hadn’t encountered any hostiles, which was a relief after what he’d heard from Officer Somers.
