American Justice

by J K Ellem

  With nowhere to go, Hoost barreled forward into Shaw, using his mass and nothing else, tackling Shaw to the floor. The gantry shook as their combined weight slammed into it.

  Without the use of his hands or arms, Hoost, on top of Shaw, started slamming his head into Shaw’s face. Shaw brought both arms up to protect his head from the barrage of head butts, Hoost’s grotesque face, jaw hanging, inches from his own face.

  It came from behind Shaw, a blur of movement, an arc of motion. Jessie’s foot connected with Hoost’s head, her instep smashing flush into his face. Once, twice, three times she screamed in unison with the vicious kicks.

  Hoost rolled sideways and Shaw pushed his hips up, heaving the man off him.

  Jessie gave Hoost one final kick, sending him toppling between the handrail and the metal floor. Gravity took hold, and Hoost tumbled off the gantry into the darkness beyond.

  Shaw looked down and Jessie leaned out over the rail. Moments later they heard the sickening thud as Hoost hit the concrete floor hundreds of feet below.

  Turning, Jessie helped Shaw to his feet. “Is that how you treat difficult passengers?” he asked.

  “Only when they are unkind or disrespectful to others.”

  Following the markings left by Ryder, and from what she could remember, Beth sped along the tunnels. Once or twice she had to backtrack when she came to an unfamiliar section. It wasn’t long before she came to the arrow made of stones and Beth emerged back into the main tunnel with the entrance way just ahead.

  It was dusk outside, the light almost gone, the air brittle with cold. Beth grabbed the first aid kit from the back of her SUV then stopped. There was no way Miller and his team would find where Ryder was if she didn’t wait for them and guide them back to the exact spot.

  Beth pulled out her cell phone.

  “Thank God,” she said. The tiny symbol on the screen said she had a partial signal. She called Miller, praying the call would get through.

  He answered on the second ring.

  They made it up two more levels then found another map on the wall next to an elevator that hadn’t been used for decades. This time the map was more detailed. It showed a cross section of Square Mountain with the various entrances, side tunnels, and side shafts. According to the map, Shaw and Jessie were standing at a main elevator shaft that ran directly up to the mine workings above. There were other entrances on the other side of the mountain, and Shaw located a large cavern that had once been used as the main underground storage area for machinery and living quarters.

  “This is where they are,” he said, tapping the map. “This is where I saw the school bus.”

  Shaw turned to Jessie. “Are you certain you want to come?”

  Jessie nodded. “If that’s where you’re going, then yes, I’m coming with you.”

  Shaw studied the map one more time, committing to memory the route they needed to take. There was an auxiliary access tunnel that ran straight and would take them directly to the cavern. After that, he had no plan as to how he was going to stop them.

  Within three minutes of Beth’s call, two HRT choppers lifted off the tarmac and powered eastward into the darkness.

  On the ground FBI agents swarmed to their SUVs.

  Inside the chopper, Miller sat tight amongst an armada of grim-faced men, hands on weapons. Through his headset he was coordinating the agents on the ground who were at the same time racing toward the location Beth had given him.

  An iPad sat on Miller’s lap while wind swirled around inside. On the screen he brought up a satellite map of Square Mountain. There were numerous roads into the location on both sides of the mountain range but he pinpointed the main road Beth had explained. All he knew was Ryder had been shot and they may have found something up in the mines that could be linked to the terrorist group.

  At first Miller was angry that he had been kept out of the loop. Carolyn should have told him she was going up there. But that wasn’t important at the moment. He needed to get to Ryder. He had two HRT medics with him who could deal with any combat injury. He just prayed Carolyn would still be alive and wouldn’t bleed out before his team got there.

  The heavy thump of the chopper rotors broke over the ridge of the canyon. Beth could see their navigation lights from where she stood in the wide clearing, a flare tube in her hand.

  She pointed the flare skyward, pulled back the latch on the base of the tube, and slammed it home.

  The flare arched up into the darkness, burst into a burning orb, before floating slowly back to earth on a tiny parachute, painting the canyon walls in a hellish-red.

  Two powerful spotlights converged on Beth as the choppers tilted back, big mechanical beasts coming in to land, and finally settling on the canyon floor.

  Miller was out first, running toward Beth, a wave of heavily armed HRT agents behind him. No words or formalities exchanged, just urgent action.

  Moments later they were in the mine tunnel running hard, following Beth back to where Ryder lay.

  Ryder started to feel dizzy and she knew she was losing blood too fast. She had tried to stem the flow but her fingers were now numb and so was her leg.

  She sat in a pool of light amid a sea of darkness, cold and alone. She shivered and knew she was slowly bleeding out. It was then she noticed a light at the far end of the tunnel, from the direction she and Beth had entered.

  Ryder felt relieved. Beth had made it, had gotten outside and called for help.

  Miller would be pissed as hell, but she would deal with that later. He would understand. She turned and looked in the opposite direction, toward where she imagined the two armed men lay dead, no doubt in her mind that Pritchard had killed them both. Ryder was now certain she had found something in the mine that was connected to the terrorists. Who were the two men, and why were they carrying assault rifles?

  Once Miller arrived she would tell him everything.

  She looked back to the approaching lights that bobbed toward her. She raised her arm and yelled, her voice weak. "Over here. I'm over here." Ryder waved her flashlight.

  A beam of light angled toward her and then to her surprise it stopped and stood motionless.

  "Miller?"

  There was silence. The person just stood there, in the semi-darkness, undecided.

  Ryder felt a tinge of fear. She reached for her gun, taking her hand off her thigh.

  It wasn't Beth or Miller standing there looking at her. It was someone else.

  61

  Bats screamed then scattered, taking flight as a torrent of light, noise, and armed menace flowed beneath them.

  Beth led the way, Miller at her shoulder, two medics next, then a contingent of HRT agents spreading through the tunnel like a creeping virus, sweeping through narrow tight spaces, checking corners, shadows, before moving on.

  Miller's earpiece crackled. The ground team was still thirty minutes out.

  Beth hurried. This time it was much faster, the route more familiar. They passed the pointed arrow made of stones, entered the side tunnel and kept going. No time to stop, no time to explain.

  Beth was running on pure adrenaline. With a small army at her back, she spurred on, more confident, no fear except the fear that Pritchard might return to where Ryder lay, like a predator returning to pick off injured prey. Beth tried to wipe the thought from her mind as she ran, but Pritchard was capable of anything.

  Ryder held her resolve, aiming the gun as best she could at the shape that stood not more than fifty feet from her. Her hand began to shake, her aim jittery, her body shivering. It was cold, so cold. She just wanted to lie down, give in to the urge to close her eyes, then everything would be all right.

  Ryder blinked hard, willing herself not to succumb, not to slip into a sleep she would never awaken from.

  She tried to focus on the person, her aim faltered, her eyes struggling to stay open.

  The person blurred then split into two ghostly figures, shimmering and melting in and out of focus.

 
Her mind raced. It was two assailants, two targets, not one. Maybe it was Beth and Miller. Maybe she was already asleep, falling into the depths of some watery dream.

  Someone was speaking to her. A calm soothing voice. A voice from her past. A distant memory. Ryder decided she was definitely dreaming.

  "Put the gun down, Carolyn. I'm not going to harm you."

  A beam of light washed over Ryder, blinding her awake. It was the light you see at the end of a dark tunnel. So it made sense to her. She was dying anyway.

  "Carolyn, please. I'm not going to harm you."

  That familiar voice again. A mix of empathy and authority. A voice she had heard before, many times.

  The two people approached and Ryder lowered her gun, because the voice had told her to.

  Shaw and Jessie stood in front of Ryder.

  Ryder looked at them dumbfounded, her mind not making sense of what she was looking at. "Ben?" she asked, her voice hollow, like it wasn’t her own.

  Shaw knelt down beside her when he saw her leg and the blood-soaked jacket lying next to her.

  "Christ, Carolyn, what have you got yourself into." He covered the wound with the jacket, then turned to Jessie. "Press here, hard."

  Shaw stood and panned his flashlight back and forth over the floor of the tunnel, desperately searching. He took a few steps, kicking rocks and debris out of the way. The belt he wore wasn't going to work. He found a thick stick, four inches long and pocketed it. He lifted a piece of timber hoping to find something else he needed, then swore. Then the beam of his light landed on a strand of electrical cable. He scooped it up and ran back to where Ryder lay. Jessie was pressing down on Ryder's thigh, both hands gloved in red.

  Shaw gently lifted the leg and Ryder screamed.

  Quickly he wrapped the electrical cable high around her thigh, pushing it up as far as it would go, near her groin. Once secured, he slid the thick stick under the cable and began to twist it, the stick acting as a windlass.

  "This is going to hurt, Carolyn, but I need to stop the flow."

  Ryder said nothing, her head wobbled sideways, almost unconscious.

  Shaw bent over Ryder and slapped her face. "Stay with me, Carolyn, stay awake." Shaw continued tightening the improvised tourniquet. The cable cut deep into Ryder's thigh. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than bleeding out. "How's it looking?"

  Jessie took the pressure off and peeled back the soaked jacket.

  In the beam of light, Shaw could see a dark hole in the flesh. Crimson dribbled out but the flow was slowing. He gave the small wooden peg one more twist. "Here, hold this tight, don't let it slacken," he ordered Jessie. Shaw inspected the wound again. The flow of blood had reduced to just a slight ooze.

  Good.

  "Come on, Carolyn," Shaw shook Ryder’s jaw, trying to keep her awake. She was in a drowsy haze, heavy eyelids, no focus. He had no idea who had shot her. All he could think of was that somehow the FBI investigation had led them here. But why was she alone?

  "We need to get her out of here," Jessie said. Despite the predicament, Jessie was calm and composed.

  Shaw agreed. But if they tried to move her, the bleeding would start again. She needed proper medical care and to be stabilized before they moved her.

  But Shaw had a better option. The main cavern wasn't far from here. They would have what he needed, they seemed to have everything else. But Shaw didn’t think they would be friendly if he just waltzed back in and asked for it.

  Shaw made up his mind. "Jessie, you need to stay with her, keep her awake, keep the wire tight around her thigh."

  "You're going to the surface? To get help?"

  "No," Shaw replied, a grim look of determination in his face. "I'm going ahead. There will be medical supplies there, I know it.”

  Jessie understood. She looked at Ryder and stroked her hair. "I'll look after her, just hurry."

  Shaw stood and placed Ryder’s gun next to where Jessie sat with Ryder’s head cradled in her lap, one hand keeping the tension on the cord. "Shoot anyone you don't like the look of.”

  Shaw paused at where the dead bodies of the two guards lay before picking up a handgun, preferring it to an assault rifle in the tight confines he may encounter.

  It was definitely a scream. Beth pulled up. Miller, next to her, heard it, too. They looked at each other. "Ryder!" Beth took off again. "This way; come on," she yelled over her shoulder. The HRT agents surged forward, now passing ahead of Beth as she ran, her flashlight pointing the way.

  The side tunnel came into view. "There, in there," Beth said frantically. Agents slowed up, hand signals were given, orders confirmed. The agents fanned out around the edge of the opening. Miller arrived but held back. It was out of his hands now; let the agents do their job.

  Flashlights went off, and night vision came on, goggles pulled down over faces. Then they went into the tunnel.

  The HRT agents rapidly covered the ground, heading toward the small bloom of light in the distance, a swarm of red dots racing ahead, seeking out targets before finally settling on a shape on the ground in the middle of the tunnel.

  "Gun."

  The lead agent slowed. A woman was sitting cross-legged on the ground, holding the body of another woman. The agent saw the gun next to the woman, on the ground, untouched, but still there. The woman was stroking the hair of another woman whose head was resting in her lap, talking to her with soothing words.

  Jessie turned to look at the agent.

  In the green wash of his night vision the agent could see tears streaming down her face. She slowly shook her head at him.

  The agent lowered his rifle and barked out orders. Instantly the handgun was taken and strong, but gentle, arms lifted Jessie and took her to the side while two medics rushed in and took hold of Ryder.

  Night vision went off, and flashlights came on.

  Ryder looked deathly pale. Trauma packs were ripped open. Shears cut through her trousers. A hand felt her neck. There was a pulse, very weak.

  Skilled hands worked rapidly on Ryder. Thick Velcro strapping was wrapped around her thigh and cinched tight, a proper combat tourniquet, before the improvised one was snipped loose with small cutters. One of the medics held up Shaw's handiwork in the light and smiled, appreciating the ingenuity.

  After the perimeter was secured, Miller and Beth were allowed to enter the tunnel. Ryder had been placed on a collapsible stretcher, tubes in her arm and a heavy bandage on her thigh. She was tucked snuggly in a foil survival blanket, her pale face just visible.

  Beth nodded her thanks at the HRT members and squeezed Ryder’s cold hand.

  Glazed eyes looked up at Beth, then she gave a weak smile. Some color was returning to Ryder's face. "You owe me a drink, Beth." Ryder's voice was a whispery rasp.

  Beth smiled, tears in her eyes. She nodded then two huge agents gently lifted the stretcher and carried Ryder toward the exit of the tunnel.

  Jessie sat on the ground while a medic checked her over, a foil blanket over her shoulders.

  Beth recognized her instantly.

  During the next ten minutes Jessie told Miller and Beth everything, with the HRT members standing around them in a circle. Hoost, Pritchard, where Shaw had gone, how Abasi Rasul had kidnapped her, her words spilled out fast and furious, telling them they had to move now.

  Miller was now the senior investigator in charge. He quickly assessed the situation after questioning Jessie one more time about the exact location of the cavern that she and Shaw had seen on the map. Pritchard wasn’t a priority now. How and why he was there in the mine could wait until later.

  "Are you certain?" Miller asked.

  Jessie nodded. "They had Ben captive. He's gone there, to the cavern. He wanted to find a medical kit to help the FBI woman."

  Miller couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  "And what did he say about the school bus?”

  Jessie nodded. "He said it was one of the most sickening things he had ever seen," Jessie replied.

/>   Miller caught Beth's look. A creeping dread filled both of them. Beth had to push aside thoughts of catching Pritchard for now. She could only imagine what atrocities were being planned involving something so innocent and universally recognizable as a school bus.

  "And another thing," Jessie remembered. "Abasi Rasul is not dead."

  Miller stared at Jessie. "Then who the hell did we find in that motel room?" Miller asked. "We have a dead body."

  Jessie shook her head. "Shaw doesn't know. All he said was that he saw Abasi Rasul in that cavern, where the school bus was."

  Miller turned and addressed the HRT agents who had heard the entire conversation, everything Jessie had revealed. They brought their weapons up a little higher, gripped them a little harder, minds filled with disgust and seething anger. Some of them had kids of their own.

  "Saddle up," Miller said.

  62

  A man stood in the shadows of the cavern, away from the others, preferring a moment of solitude and the company of his own thoughts. The news of his recently dead twin brother was still raw in his mind. He felt no anger, no remorse, just pride, pride that his own flesh and blood had died a martyr’s death.

  For what seemed like the tenth time, Abasi Rasul checked the electrical connections of the trigger mechanism. Neither the bus nor the bomb he had designed and built had been tampered with, despite what Hoost had originally thought. Hoost hadn’t returned from catching the man who had been seen near the bus, but Rasul wasn’t missing him. Hoost was constantly looking over Rasul’s shoulder, giving him orders, asking him to hurry up. Rasul had an extreme dislike for the man. He was an oaf, a clumsy fool who brandished a gun as a means of creating fear. But for Rasul, real fear was what he now held in his hand.

  A long USB cable ran from the underside of the school bus into the tablet device Rasul was holding. He stared at the screen, a glowing rectangle of white, and checked the settings again. No one could tamper with Rasul’s creation. It was too perfect, better than the bomb he’d built into the cell phone device that had brought the jetliner down.