Amish Covert Operation

by Meghan Carver

  Adam stayed steady but narrowed his eyes at the man. “Is that his tactic?” His voice was so low that Katie thought he must be talking to himself. “That’s pretty extreme.”

  And then, in the space of a heartbeat, as Adam moved away from the window in reaction to the man outside, pulling Katie with him, a light sparked and flared up in the darkness outside.

  “Let’s move!” He grabbed Katie’s shoulders and spun her to face away from the door that was right next to the window. Adam pushed her down and away from the door but stayed right behind her. He was too slow, though.

  The door exploded in a flash of light and flame. Adam served as a human shield, protecting her from the blast. The door flung into him, pushing him against her and hurling both of them against the far wall. She cried out in pain as her foot caught on a chair, pulling on her leg and ripping her gunshot wound open.

  Katie clutched at the injury as Adam pushed the door off them and then drew his weapon from the holster. She curled onto her side to see him crawl to the door and fire his weapon into the night. Large, hot flames licked at the doorjamb and the base of the kitchen cabinets. In the glow of the fire, she saw the man run away through the pasture and toward the woods. Lightning sizzled again as if to help her see his escape.

  Adam watched through the door a minute more and then turned back to help her sit up. “He’s gone, but that’s no guarantee he won’t be back.”

  “What was that? A bomb?”

  “Kind of. It was a homemade incendiary device.” He grabbed a couple of dish towels from the countertop and handed them to her. She immediately applied direct pressure to her oozing wound. “Most likely a Molotov cocktail.”

  “Something that explodes.”

  “Yeah.”

  The door was completely on fire, as well as the edge of the floor and the kitchen cabinet closest to the door. The odor of gasoline and the acrid smell of fire filled her nostrils. Flames licked up the walls, higher and higher, as she pressed the towels to her leg. The heat threatened to burn her skin and singe her hair.

  Adam’s jaw was set with grim determination as he surveyed the increasing flames. “Fire extinguisher?” Even as he asked, he ran to the kitchen to begin flinging open cabinets. “Under the sink?”

  “If there is one—”

  But Adam pulled open what looked like it should have been used as a broom closet and then held up a fire extinguisher triumphantly. He blew dust off the top and the handle. “Pray it works.”

  Katie maneuvered herself to a standing position, despite the deep throbbing in her leg. She pulled the towels away and began beating at the flames with them, but Adam motioned for her to sit. “You stay put. Don’t injure yourself further. This extinguisher will do it.”

  With a little extra tugging, the pin came loose. Adam swept the nozzle of the extinguisher’s hose across the base of the flames, slowly dousing them. As the foam squirted onto the fire, he stayed low and as much away from the door as he could manage.

  After several minutes with the extinguisher, the fire was finally out. Katie drew a deep, ragged breath, ignoring as best she could the overpowering odor of smoke that burned her nostrils, and tried to put on a brave face for the pain. But the truth was that it hurt something fierce and it still trickled blood. It must have shown in her face, for Adam retrieved his phone from the table and slid to her side on the wood floor. He tapped three numbers and then spoke for a few seconds, giving their location.

  “I called nine-one-one, but I don’t think we should wait for an ambulance or backup law enforcement. They could take too long to get here. You need the emergency room now. I can call the sheriff personally on the way. Plus it’ll be safe there.”

  She simply nodded, relief flooding her when Adam lifted her into his arms and carried her to the Tahoe. He settled her into the front seat and then jogged around to the driver’s side. Soon they were speeding down the country road, toward the closest hospital.

  “I’m afraid our presence there caused great damage to the house.” His voice was apologetic.

  “Jah, and I am sorry, as well. We Amish take care of each other, though.”

  “Perhaps if we had found somewhere else. Somewhere far away?”

  “Nein. We are a community. They would not have wanted me to leave, even for safety.” The thought of leaving sent a tremor of fear through her. Then, with her eyes closed, she let the darkness flow over her.

  * * *

  The glow of the GPS monitor set in the dashboard drew Adam to check that he was headed in the right direction. So far he was fine, but it looked like it might get a little tricky when they got to the city. He pulled his cell phone out and quickly called the sheriff, who said he would get to the Hochstetler place immediately.

  Katie’s labored breathing also drew his attention, but so far she seemed to be handling it with strength, as she kept a firm hand on the wound. The dish towels were soaked with her blood, but the bleeding did seem to be slowing now that she was sitting still. The inside of the Tahoe smelled like a fireplace, but at least they were alive.

  “How long until we are at the hospital?”

  He glanced at the GPS screen again. “Should be about twenty minutes. Are you all right until we get there?”

  “Jah. It does not hurt that much.” But as she shifted in her seat, a grimace told Adam otherwise.

  “Can you tell me more about this...this bomb? What did you call it?”

  “A Molotov cocktail. It’s a...yeah, a homemade bomb.” Giving it a fancy name didn’t take away the damage it had caused.

  “How does it work?”

  “It’s simply a flammable substance like gasoline, perhaps with some motor oil mixed in, in a breakable glass bottle. Then it just needs a wick to ignite it, like a bit of cloth or a rag, often soaked in alcohol. Could be kerosene, as well.”

  “I have all those things at home.”

  “I’m sure you do. Lots of folks do. That’s probably why he used that method. He may even have found all of that in the storage shed out back.”

  “It is worrisome that there are the makings of a bomb around most houses.”

  “Well, but you aren’t going to be making any bombs.” Following the blue dot on the GPS screen, Adam turned onto another country road.

  “That is true. So, this man would just light the wick, like lighting a candle or a kerosene lamp?”

  “Yeah. Light it up and throw it at the target. The bottle smashes when it hits. So then the flame from the wick ignites the fuel that was inside the glass bottle. Boom! There’s a fireball that spreads flames. The attacker thinks his mission is accomplished.”

  “Ach, what a terrible thing to do to someone. Why would someone want to do such evil?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out.” But as they fell silent, Adam couldn’t help but wonder at her innocence. She clearly had lived a protected life. Some might even say it was sheltered. Was that best, or did she need to know more of the real world?

  He stopped at a light and turned to admire her in the red glow. What was wrong with sheltering, anyway? He thought of the guys he knew in ICE. Many of those agents ate antacids like candy or took blood-pressure medication even though they were still young. They might say they were fulfilled in their jobs, but were they truly satisfied? Pleased with their situations and relaxed about the future? Perhaps he would be happier or more content if he lived a sheltered life like it seemed Katie did. Sometimes the things he knew about the evil in the world and what he had experienced on the job felt downright oppressive and overwhelming.

  The light turned green, and he pressed on the accelerator. He could hear her whispering again. With a sideways glance, he saw that her lips were moving in what must be silent prayer. He could probably stand to do a little more praying himself. She had certainly been a good influence on him in such a short time, coming along at just the right momen
t. Just as he was beginning to feel like a crusty curmudgeon, too far from God.

  How much did this relationship mean to him? It had only been a short time that they had known each other, and yet she had influenced him in ways he never would have imagined. Even if nothing came of it and they never spoke again, he would always be changed because of their time together.

  Adam scoured a hand through his hair. Was he going soft? Stop thinking about the girl and think about the job.

  A couple of turns later, the lights of the hospital loomed ahead.

  The emergency room was quiet, and a nurse wheeled a chair out for Katie. Inside, Katie gave her basic information, explained the nature of her wound and then was wheeled back to an examination room. Adam followed, but as soon as the nurse was ready to examine the wound, she turned to him and said, “Perhaps you’d like to wait outside. Unless you’re the patient’s husband?”

  Katie giggled as Adam choked a cough into his arm. “Nein. He is not my husband.”

  Despite Adam’s discomfort with the question, he was glad for a lighthearted moment for her. Perhaps it would provide some relief from the intensity of the chase. “I’ll...I’ll just wait out there. Could you let me know when you’re done?”

  “Of course.”

  He stepped toward the exit and then turned back. “It’s not life-threatening, is it?” He must sound like a moron. She hadn’t been brought in on a stretcher or unconscious or any other number of ways a person could be brought into the ER when life was ebbing away.

  The nurse smiled at him, a teasing look in her eye. “I haven’t seen much of the wound yet, but from what you and the young lady said, I’m guessing she just needs the stitching repaired and maybe some antibiotics to prevent infection.”

  “Okay. Sure. I’ll let you get to work.” An overwhelming urge to comfort Katie with a kiss on the forehead swept over him. But he denied it, pressing it back deep down inside, where it belonged. It wouldn’t be professional, and it wouldn’t be appropriate in front of the nurse.

  Adam left the bay, with his hat in his hands, and the nurse jerked the curtain shut behind him. The curtain rings screeched on the rod above, and the breeze from the curtain ruffled his shirtsleeves. He meandered to the empty waiting room, uncertain what to do with himself now that it seemed there was nothing to do except be on guard for Katie. His ICE team was getting into formation and on the road, and there was nothing he could do from this distance. The sheriff was heading to the old Hochstetler place to comb it for evidence. So now he would wait.

  He poured coffee into a cup and chose a seat away from the window but facing the entrance to the area. He sipped the brew, grimacing when it tasted old and bitter on his tongue, and placed the cup on a side table. Determined not to worry about Katie, he retrieved his cell phone and called the sheriff.

  Sheriff Moore didn’t even answer with hello. “You running into more trouble, son?” A smile sounded in his tone.

  “No, sir. Just wanted an update.”

  “We’re about two minutes away now. If I find something, I’ll be sure to let you know. You sure the fire was out when you drove away?”

  “Definitely. You’ll see the foam all over the kitchen and doorway.”

  “No call has come in about a fire, so it must have stayed settled down.” There was a pause before the sheriff spoke again. “Hadn’t Sarah Miller’s brother purchased the place?”

  Adam dragged his foot over a spot in the carpet. “Yeah. I told Jed and Sarah that we wouldn’t stay with them because we didn’t want to bring trouble to their family. Now I’m glad we left there. But what about the damage to the house? It’ll need a lot of repair.”

  “When we’re done at the old Hochstetler place, I’ll drive by and tell Jed and Sarah what happened.”

  “It’ll be expensive.”

  “You’re probably right. And the Amish don’t typically carry homeowner’s insurance. They believe they should trust in God rather than an insurance policy. But they’ll take care of it. You know how they all come together to raise a barn in a day? Same idea here, except they’ll repair and clean up a house.”

  With thanks to the sheriff, Adam hung up and gulped another bitter swallow of the coffee. It was certainly admirable the way the Amish took care of each other without judgment or bitterness. The repairs to the house would probably be what his grandmother had called a work frolic, and the community would clean it up and set it to rights in no time.

  Adam picked up a magazine and absentmindedly flipped through it. Advertisements assaulted him for white teeth, glossy hair and healthy cereal. An article boasted of a decorating makeover of a house on the beach. What was the point of those superficialities, though? He glanced at an orderly walking by and remembered Katie’s full lips moving in silent prayer nearly all the way to the hospital. Health and safety were the most important needs in his life right now.

  And where was God in all of this trauma and turmoil? Apparently Katie’s faith didn’t suffer when trouble arose. Why did his? Why did he doubt, especially when bad things happened? Did he really expect that believing in God would just make every moment perfect and serene and wonderful?

  Perhaps he should give God another chance. People always wanted a second chance in relationships. His own father had wanted a third and fourth and fifth chance, as well. So why was he so reluctant to give God, Maker of everything, a second chance? His father had made his own choices to leave his faith, and then everything had spiraled down from there, until the drinking was out of control and Adam’s brother had also been pulled into that lifestyle. Yet where had that gotten him? In a body bag on the side of the road.

  Even Adam had descended into the life of a drunkard for a few years. But all that time on the sofa in a semiconscious state? Opportunities had been lost, until he had managed to pull himself up out of the abyss. He had overcome, mastered the temptation and become a special agent with ICE.

  He took one more swallow of the bitter brew and then tossed the cup in the trash. Even with his improved station in life, he still wasn’t good enough for the wholesome Amish woman who was now receiving treatment. And he definitely wasn’t good enough to join the church. What would God want with someone like him?

  But what if he had had the faith of his grandparents? He walked to the window and then returned to his seat, uncomfortable with being still. If he had adopted that level of faith, Amish or not, where would he be right now? His decisions about life and faith had so much depended on someone else through the years. He had let his father and his father’s weaknesses determine the trajectory of his own life of faith, or until this point, his life of no faith. Why? Sure, Adam had kicked the drinking habit and made his own choice there. So why couldn’t he make his own choice here?

  His grandparents, and even an aunt and uncle, had sent him letters through the years, gently urging him to come home. It had been several years since he had seen them, but he still received letters every now and then, inviting him to visit. His grandmother in particular liked to include a description of the meal she would make for him, usually topped off with his favorite pie and homemade whipped cream. If she couldn’t get his head to decide to visit, then she appealed to his stomach.

  But he couldn’t quite make the decision of faith. These last couple of days with Katie had shown him that he wasn’t making the difference as an agent that he had thought he would when he’d entered the academy a few years back. And what was he missing of a regular life as he continually ran after the bad guys? But even if he could be accepted among the Amish, wouldn’t an Amish life be boring? It didn’t seem to count for much contribution to the improvement of life. What can one man working a field do to make the world better? The Amish just hid from the world. His stomach roiled with the agony of a decision. How could he know which sort of life was right and good?

  The nurse stepped into the waiting room, and Adam jumped to his feet, closing the dist
ance between them in just a few steps. “How is she?”

  “The bleeding has stopped, and she’s all stitched up. We also put her on intravenous antibiotics as a precaution, so she’ll stay overnight tonight to make sure she rests and that the wound isn’t reopened or exacerbated in any way.”

  “May I see her?” Adam caught himself trying to twist his straw hat and forced himself to stop.

  “We’re moving her to a room, so you can find her there. Would you like to stay, as well?”

  “That’s allowed?”

  “Sure. I can have them set up the cot in her room.”

  “Thanks.” Adam headed toward the elevator, relief trickling over his shoulders. Katie would be fine, and they had someplace safe to sleep tonight. Perhaps by tomorrow night, all would be well again.

  Two floors up, he found Katie sitting up in a white-sheeted bed, wearing a green hospital gown and an IV tube. Her prayer kapp was askew, and a few tendrils had escaped and curled on her neck. A weary smile lit her face as he came into the room. “I will be stuck here overnight, but the nurse said I will heal just fine in the end.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she told me, too.” He glanced around the room. The recliner had been pulled out into a cot, a white sheet tucked in around its edges.

  “Danki for saving me. I appreciate your devotion to my safety.” An adorable shade of pink crept into her cheeks.

  “No problem. Just part of the job.”

  She looked down, her eyes hidden from him, as the color drained from her face.

  When she didn’t say anything, he sat on the recliner and laid back. Weariness consumed him. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what had made him say that it was just his job to protect her. He raised a hand to rub his eye. Wasn’t it true, though? He should forget the whole thing, really. He wasn’t good enough for the Amish church or an Amish girl. The past couldn’t be erased.