Rules of Engagement

by Ken Fite

  Davis forced an understanding smile and looked around the room. “So this is your friend’s house,” she said gently, putting the pieces together and trying to create a bond with the woman. “What does he do?”

  But Meg just stared blankly at Jami and shrugged. “He won’t tell me. Says he has to keep a low profile.”

  Jami thought she heard, or maybe felt, a rumble outside the house, but she ignored it. “Your informant? Does he live here?” she asked, but Taylor didn’t reply. Jami took a step closer. “Is this his house, Meg?”

  A moment later, a mechanical sound came from the other side of the kitchen door. Taylor’s eyes grew wide as she turned to the door. The sound continued for a few more seconds, then stopped abruptly. Meg’s head snapped back to Jami. There was panic in her eyes. “He’s home! You need to leave right now!”

  They heard the sound again, and Jami realized what it was. The garage door had opened and was now being closed. The women turned back to the door and heard a muffled thud. A door being closed.

  “Not enough time,” said Jami, looking over her shoulder at the front door on the other side of the house.

  “Then you need to hide,” whispered Taylor desperately. “Right now. Go. He’s got a temper. Please.”

  Jami took a few steps backward, then turned and went into a dark, adjacent room. She leaned against the wall and heard a key inserted into the lock. The kitchen door creaked open and someone stepped inside.

  “You’re home,” said Meg with a smile in her voice. The door was closed. Several seconds passed in silence. Then the faint sound of kissing, followed by another long period of silence. “What took you so long?”

  “I told you I’d be a while,” said the man. Jami’s eyes grew wide. She felt her heart start to beat rapidly.

  Jami heard them kiss again, followed by several more seconds of silence. Then there was an abrupt kicking sound on the tile. Jami furrowed her brow, trying to understand what she was hearing. The kicking stopped. There was movement in the kitchen. A drawer was opened, then closed, followed by a loud tearing sound. More movement. She heard the tearing sound again, louder and longer this time.

  The kitchen door was opened; then Jami heard a dragging sound on the tile. Her heart beat even faster. The sound grew distant and disappeared. The kitchen door was closed. There was a thud. Then she heard something slam shut and the mechanical sound again. As the vehicle started, Jami had a realization.

  Duct tape—that was what Jami had heard. She was sure of it. She reached for her weapon, but it wasn’t there. Jami remembered that Meg hadn’t let her inside with it on her. Ten more seconds passed and she heard the mechanical sound again, followed by a rumble from the car’s engine as it navigated the driveway. Jami passed the kitchen and ran to the front door and looked out the textured glass. She saw the headlights turn on as the car backed into the street, stopped, and started to leave the neighborhood.

  Jami opened the front door, retrieved her weapon from inside the flowerpot, and ran toward her vehicle parked close to the cul-de-sac. She knew who Taylor’s informant was. She had recognized the man’s voice.

  FORTY-FOUR

  I HEARD A cell phone ringing and reached into my back pocket before realizing that it was the other phone, the one Dimitri had slipped into my pocket, that was actually ringing. I dug it out and answered. “This is Jordan,” I said and looked up at the dark sky, desperately searching for any sign of the chopper.

  “Mr. Jordan, you have been stationary for quite a while now.”

  “I’m at Bolling Air Force Base,” I said.

  “I know where you are,” Dimitri said. “I can see that you are positioned at the heliport three hundred meters inside the base.” I wondered if he was tracking me from my phone or the one that he had given me. “Time’s up, Mr. Jordan,” he continued. “I’m assuming that my father has been delivered to you already?”

  My heart started to beat faster as I continued to scan the night sky. “I have him,” I lied. “Where are you?”

  He paused. “Let me talk to him.”

  “You can talk to him when you get here,” I replied, and as I spoke, I heard my cell ring in my back pocket. I kept the phone that Dimitri had given me pressed to my ear while I checked the call. It was Morgan. I silenced my phone and waited for Ivanov to respond. When he didn’t, I asked again, “Where are you?”

  There was another pause, longer this time. “Very well, Mr. Jordan. I will play this your way. But make no mistake—” the young man lowered his voice “—anything short of you turning my father over to me and—”

  “You’ll get him back,” I lied again.

  “Good. We will be there in two minutes. No games, Mr. Jordan,” he said and disconnected the line.

  “Damn it,” I whispered to myself as I lowered Ivanov’s phone and dropped it into another pocket. I reached for my cell and brought it to my eyes to check the missed call from Morgan. I saw that he had left a voicemail, but ignored it, and started to call Landry as Mark spoke into the earpiece that I was wearing.

  “Was that Ivanov?” he asked.

  I brought my hand up to my ear as I looked south to where Reynolds was positioned behind a row of bushes that lined the street just inside the base. “He’s two minutes out, Mark,” I said. “And no sign of the chopper.” I turned and looked to the west and saw Chris Reed at his position fifty meters away in between two of the military housing complexes. “Chris, do you copy?” I asked to make sure we were all on comm.

  Reed replied that we were coming in clear. I lifted my cell and brought it to my ear as I waited through four rings before getting Bill Landry’s voicemail. “Bill, this is Jordan. I need that chopper here right now. Call me back.” I disconnected the line and tried to remain calm as I thought through my options. I tried not to panic and decided to dial another number and brought the phone to my ear as the line started to ring.

  “Blake,” Keller’s chief of staff said softly, answering the call on the first ring.

  “Emma, I need to talk to the president. Are you still with him?”

  “Yes, hold on for me,” she said. I heard her voice tremble slightly as she quickly moved to get to another room inside the White House. I waited thirty more seconds before she came back on. “Okay, here he is.”

  I heard a rustling sound as the president took the phone. “Blake, Emma told me about her plan to get you out of the country ahead of the news breaking, but the damn thing’s on every cable news channel already. Son, I think you need to reconsider this. I’ve asked her to go ahead and make the arrangements so that—”

  “Mr. President, that’s not why I’m calling,” I said, interrupting the man. “I’m standing on the heliport at Bolling Air Force Base. I can’t get in touch with Bill Landry, and the exchange is taking place right now.”

  Keller didn’t speak for several moments. “Exchange?” he asked. “Blake, what are you talking about?”

  “The chopper that’s transporting Nikolai Ivanov,” I said. “It was supposed to have been here by now.” There was more silence. I narrowed my eyes as I waited for a response. “Mr. President? Are you there?”

  Keller said cautiously, “That is not the conversation that I had with Bill Landry. There must be some kind of misunderstanding, because I just went over the whole thing with him. Landry said he’d call you with the update. I made a few phone calls, Blake. Got in touch with Mount Weather and spoke with officials stationed over there. Relayed what I learned to Landry and told him I would call you next. Landry said he’d take care of it.” He paused. “There’s no chopper headed to Bolling, son. Nikolai Ivanov isn’t coming.”

  “Why not?” I demanded and looked east, noticing the sky starting to become brighter.

  Keller paused again. “Because Nikolai Ivanov is dead.”

  I felt like the air got knocked out of me. I couldn’t speak for several seconds. I looked up and saw headlights from a vehicle slowly approaching down MacDill Boulevard, headed straight for my location. “When
? How?” I finally asked as I kept my eyes fixed on the approaching headlights.

  “They’re telling me it happened about a month ago. Officially, it’s been documented as a suicide.” Keller paused before adding, “Unofficially, Ivanov’s death was the result of enhanced interrogation methods used inside the Mount Weather prison. Remember, Blake, the world thinks this guy died six months ago.”

  “I get that, Mr. President. But I told you what’s going to happen if I don’t get Nikolai Ivanov back.”

  Keller was silent for a beat. Then he finally said, “You mentioned an exchange?”

  I nodded to myself. “They have Charlie Redding,” I said in a low voice as the vehicle got even closer.

  “Redding?” asked Keller, recognizing the name of the man who he and my father had worked with at the ATF office in Chicago years ago, long before he left to run for the senate. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “Long story,” I said. “I’ll get him back. I’ll get Dimitri. Then I’m gonna find out why Landry set me up.”

  I heard Mark in my earpiece ask what the holdup was, as the Tangos were entering the base. I held up a hand to him. “And, Mr. President, about what Emma’s suggesting, I’ll defend my actions over the last eighteen months, and I’ll take full responsibility for any actions that I take today. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m not trying to protect myself here, Blake, or my presidency. I’m showing you a way out of all of this.”

  “I have to go,” I said and disconnected the call. I pressed the earpiece and watched the vehicle park thirty meters away from me. “Nikolai Ivanov’s dead and Landry set me up. We’re going to have to come up with another plan,” I said and reached behind me briefly to check on the Glock tucked in the small of my back.

  I watched the driver park and help a man with a bag over his head out of the trunk. Charlie, I thought. The driver prodded the man with his gun, forcing him to walk. “I have an idea,” I said into my earpiece.

  FORTY-FIVE

  THE MAN’S EYES darted left to right as he and Charlie walked across the wet grass and met me at the concrete heliport, where I stood alone. “Where is he?” the man grunted, scanning the open field around us.

  “Safe,” I replied, wondering who the tall Russian man was and where Dimitri had called me from earlier.

  Charlie stood motionless with the bag still covering his head. The man pushed his weapon against it. “Where?” he repeated. The man grew impatient and racked the slide on his weapon to chamber a round.

  “My men have him,” I said.

  “That was not the deal. A life for a life, Mr. Jordan. You hand over Ivanov; we give you the old guy.”

  “How do I know that if I hand Ivanov over, you wouldn’t take him and kill both of us right now?” I asked and nodded to Charlie as I continued. “You had insurance. Now I have insurance. This is the deal.”

  The man kept his eyes fixed on mine and the gun pressed hard against Charlie’s head. “Explain.”

  “It’s simple,” I said and nodded to Charlie. “Let my friend here go. Take me instead. A life for a life, right?” I stared at the man, watching his reaction to my proposal. “Once I know he’s safe, I’ll take you to Ivanov.”

  The guy looked past me and scanned the field again to make sure we were alone. His eyes went back to mine as he decided whether or not he could take the deal I was offering. “This will not be acceptable to Dimitri,” he finally said. “If I do not return with Nikolai Ivanov, he will kill me. I cannot accept this deal.”

  As he looked away from me, I wiped my hands on my jeans to dry them. My heart was pounding fast. It had all unraveled so quickly. I looked at my friend standing there helpless in front of me. In that moment, time stood still. A million thoughts raced through my mind, memories of Charlie visiting my dad in Chicago when I was younger. It felt like a lifetime ago. They started to move, and I became present again.

  As they stepped onto the grass, I began walking slowly to close the gap. “What are you doing?”

  “Dimitri is not a stupid man, Mr. Jordan,” the guy replied. “And neither am I.” He kept walking backward. “He told you what the consequences would be if you did not get his father—you don’t have him, do you?”

  “I do.”

  He shook his head. “No, you—”

  Before he could finish, I heard the sound of a branch snapping. The Russian man heard it too, and he turned quickly toward the sound. I followed his gaze over to the bushes where Mark Reynolds was hiding.

  I turned back. The man moved his weapon from the back of Charlie’s head to the bushes and fired a shot.

  Reaching behind me, I grabbed my Glock and aimed it at the man. “Drop your weapon!” I yelled as I felt pain shoot down my arm from where I had hurt myself earlier. Reynolds returned fire, and the man grabbed the back of Charlie’s shirt to use him as a human shield as he fired more rounds into the bushes.

  He brought the gun to the side of Charlie’s head and held him tight. “Show yourself,” the man yelled as I held my weapon steady and slowly started to back away to get a better shot and avoid hitting my friend.

  “Coming up the side,” Reed said in my earpiece, but I ignored him and wanted to take this guy out myself.

  I fired above his head to get his attention. He turned to look at me and was hit by a round from Reynolds. He took the blow, cursed, and fired back at Mark. Redding thrashed his body, trying to escape, but the man held on tight. Then he looked back at me to see what I was doing. He started to bring his weapon around. I closed an eye and squeezed the trigger just as he yanked Charlie to his right to shield himself.

  The sound from the gunshot echoed off the surrounding buildings. My eyes grew wide. I stared at Charlie in disbelief and watched as his body went limp. He dropped to his knees and started to fall backwards onto the wet grass as the man holding onto the back of his shirt let go and swung his weapon toward me.

  “No!” I yelled, realizing what I had just done. In an instant, I aimed and squeezed the trigger three more times. The bullets hit the terrorist’s chest and the man fell backwards, landing right next to Charlie’s body.

  I kept my weapon aimed in the man’s direction, and I stood there motionless as my eyes moved back and forth between the terrorist and Charlie. For a moment, I thought about my father. I saw him lying on his back in a field, bleeding out as I was standing over him, yelling for a medic. It was happening all over again. I looked up and saw Chris Reed running toward me as I shook my head and became fully present.

  Remembering the mistake I had made with my father, I moved quickly past Charlie’s body and went over to check the terrorist. Finding his weapon near his hand, I kicked it away and knelt down to check his pulse.

  The man was dead. “Mark, you okay?” I asked and waited for a response as I saw Chris getting closer. I stood and went over to Charlie. I stuffed my weapon into the small of my back and knelt down next to him. I looked him over as I put my hands on the back of my head and exhaled. I was getting ready to pull off the hood when Chris ran past me. I watched him run over to Reynolds, and I knew that something was wrong.

  “I think he’s hit,” yelled Chris as he knelt down next to the thick bushes and pulled Mark onto the grass.

  I left Charlie and went to help with Mark. I saw him blinking and staring at the sky. “Chris, call for help,” I yelled as I started to check Mark’s body for the entry wound. Reed stood and called for an ambulance.

  “Where does it hurt?” I asked, but Mark didn’t respond. He just looked at me and twisted from the pain.

  I unzipped his jacket and was about to pull open his shirt when I looked down and saw the blood pooling on the ground around Mark’s leg. “I think you’re going into shock,” I said as I continued to examine him and found where he had been shot. “It’s your leg,” I said as Mark looked down at his drenched jeans.

  I stood and ran over to the dead terrorist’s body and pulled off his belt. Returning, I lifted Mark’s leg. He winced in p
ain as I pulled the belt underneath and secured it tight just above the entry point of the bullet.

  “Help’s on the way,” said Chris as he walked back toward us, and we waited together for two minutes. I kept the belt tight until I heard the wail of a siren in the distance. I looked up and saw a police car appear.

  “It hurts, man,” Mark finally said as I continued to pull the belt tight and an ambulance entered the base.

  “You’re gonna be okay,” I said, trying to reassure him.

  Mark shook his head and, with a hand, slowly touched his chest. “No,” he said, his voice sounding weaker. “It hurts here, too,” he said and tapped below his chest as the ambulance jumped the curb and got closer.

  I looked up and said, “Chris, hold this for me.”

  Reed crouched down and grabbed the belt, keeping it taut. I unzipped the jacket, ripped open his shirt, and froze.

  “I need help!” I yelled as the paramedics ran to us.

  FORTY-SIX

  MARK WAS HIT just below the bottom of the Kevlar vest I had given him. The paramedics quickly applied a dressing to his wound to slow the bleeding. They asked about the men on the ground behind me. I said that they were dead, and they told me they would send another unit back to get them. As they got ready to move Mark, one of the men turned to me and said they’d take him to Inova Alexandria Hospital.

  “That’s too far,” I said as I watched Mark get lifted onto a gurney and quickly moved into the ambulance.

  “It won’t take long,” the paramedic said before he jogged over to the passenger door and stepped inside.

  The vehicle pulled forward, navigated the curb, and picked up speed as it got back onto MacDill and its siren began to wail again. I watched the lights disappear down the street as Chris Reed turned back to me.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I shook my head and looked down to the ground, trying to understand it myself. “I heard him make a noise. The Russian guy heard it, too.” I paused and looked back at Charlie’s body. “It all happened so fast.”