“That’s correct,” the man replied.
“Good, that’s good,” Reilley said, looking out the windshield at the road ahead. The sun was working its way across the valley as it rose in the sky behind him. Steam rose from the surface of the highway as the asphalt began to warm rapidly. It was going to be a warm day.
“We are requesting the exchange take place near the airport.” The general added.
“Hmmm…” Reilley began, thinking to himself. He’d decided in advance to turn down their first request, but the location they’d offered was a good one. Instead of going into the city, where he could be easily boxed in, the airport offered numerous entries and exits and was in close proximity to the freeway.
Still….
“I’m not sure about that idea, General,” he said flatly.
“Mister Hermes,”
“Just Hermes, General.”
A measured pause followed. Reiley figured the General was trying to regain his composure.
“My apologies, Hermes. The reason we’re requesting San Francisco International as the exchange point is because we intend to fly the girl out immediately. We need her back east, where a cure can be developed by our best doctors. Lives are at stake, Hermes.”
Reilley said nothing. Instead, he reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed the map. Unfolding it, he found the airport. As he’d remembered, it was close to the bay and right against the freeway. As he looked at it, though, he realized his thought process had been wrong.
Numerous approaches meant numerous routes for people to come from. He’d literally have to watch six or seven different roads to keep from being snuck up on.
“Hermes, this is San Francisco, over.”
“Hold on, San Francisco, I’m thinking.”
Looking at the map, he saw the location that would work.
“Coyote Point Rec Area, General. Three p.m.”
There was another pause before Reilley heard the General’s voice again. “Copy that, Hermes, we’ll be there with the gold.”
“Hold on, General.” Reilley said, grinning even more widely.
“What is it?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I want diamonds. 2 carats each. Fifty of them.”
“What? We can’t - we just got the gold you wanted!”
“Don’t care. That shit’s heavy. Bring me diamonds. Three p.m.”
With that, Reilley turned off the radio and tossed it on the seat, satisfied with the exchange. By his estimates, he’d be in the area of the park by noon, giving him three hours to watch out for any traps the military might try to set.
He was outsmarting them.
And because of it, he’d get what he wanted.
The girl? Yeah, he’d turn her over, but he had a plan to make sure he got away.
A plan in the form of a small explosive device.
Inside the San Francisco Protective Zone Headquarters, General Armstead was fuming. The bastard on the other end of the radio irritated him to no end. When he’d insisted on a different handoff spot, he’d let it slide, agreeing to it without argument.
The change from gold to diamonds, however, created significant challenges. They’d taken great care, breaking into one of the major banks in the city, documenting what they’d taken, then posting guards to make sure nothing else disappeared.
Now they’d have to go through the same thing for diamonds, likely from one of the major jewelers, or maybe several. It had the potential to create a tremendous strain on their manpower, and for what? So some asshole could feel rich? Where would he supposedly sell them in the future?
It didn’t matter in the long run. There was no way he’d get away from the team of Army Green Berets the General had designated for finding and ‘neutralizing’ him.
In the meantime…
“Can someone tell me what the fuck a ‘Hermes’ is?!”
As Reilly continued driving towards San Jose, and eventually San Francisco, he felt exceedingly happy with himself. The conversation had gone exactly as he’d wanted it to. He was in control of the situation, calling the shots, and there wasn’t anything the government could do about it. Once he had the diamonds in hand, he’d disappear into one of the rural areas to the south, where he could live in hiding until things began to return to normal. During that time, his life would be mundane. Nothing exciting, nothing special.
But when it was time to come out of hiding, he’d have the right currency to slowly build up wealth.He’d sell the diamonds little by little, exchanging them for whatever form of currency was in use at the time.
He was still relatively young, so he had time.
Opening the car’s front windows, he enjoyed the feeling of the wind on his face and neck as he drove. Soon, he heard stirring in the back seat. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Isabella squirming around on the seat. Her eyes pleaded with him.
“I have to pee,” she said, looking as if she were ready to cry.
Reilley scoffed at first, then realized she was probably telling the truth, since she’d just woken up.
‘Nothing unusual about that,’ he said to himself as he turned the wheel to the right, angling the car to the shoulder of the road.
“Alright,” he said, turning off the car’s engine. Moving around to the rear passenger side door, he pulled it open, reached in, and dragged the girl out of the car.
Lifting her into a standing position, he leaned against the door as he stared down at her.
“You really have to go?”
The girl’s dark eyes looked huge as she stared up at him, filled with fear.
“Y-Y-Yes.”
“Alright, then.” He grabbed her elbow and pulled her a few feet away from the car, into a small dirt area free of the small trees and bushes that populated the area. Reaching down, he untied her legs, then used that rope to tie a leash around her neck. When that was done, he reached down and loosened the bonds around her wrists.
Stepping back, he wrapped the end of the line that was secured around her neck around his right wrist. “Go ahead,” he said, staring at her.
Lowering her head, she began to walk away, only to be stopped by the rope around her neck. Confused, she looked back at Reilley.
“You can do your business right there,” he said, glaring at her. “After the stunt you pulled yesterday, you don’t deserve privacy.”
“I - ”
“Take it or leave it.”
Embarrassed, but unable to wait, Isabella slowly turned away from him, then pulled down her pants and squatted in one quick motion. When she was done, she turned her head toward him without making eye contact.
“Can I have a tissue?”
Walking over to her, Reilley kept his eyes on her the entire time. When he was close enough, he withdrew a used napkin from his pocket and passed it to her.
“Hurry up,” he said.
The girl felt tears of embarrassment welling up in her eyes as she took the old napkin from him, used it, then stood while quickly pulling her pants up, staring straight ahead so as not to have to look at his face again.
He quickly tied her wrists and ankles again before stuffing her back into the car.
With her taken care of, he quickly relieved himself before getting behind the steering wheel and back onto the road.
Shortly after he started driving again, Isabella’s voice came from the back seat again.
“I’m hungry.”
“Too bad,” he replied, remaining focused on driving.
“Please, Mister Reilley,” she begged.
Reilley grunted, irritated at the girl’s insistence. Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabbed one of the protein bars that were there. After unwrapping it, he looked back at where the girl was, checking to see where her mouth was.
Tossing the unwrapped bar onto the seat in front of her, he said, “Here. And don’t ask. I’m not untying your hands.”
Tears streaming down her face, Isabella wiggled around on the seat until she could bite down on the bar.
She took small bites, jerking back with her head to make sure the bar didn’t move too far away.
Ignoring the girl’s sniffles, Reilley put on the pair of sunglasses he’d found in the glove compartment the day prior. They’d been Logan’s.
‘Too bad, sucker,’ he said to himself.
Ahead in the distance, Reilley saw a cluster of people walking on the road. Surprisingly, they were walking towards him, away from the general direction of San Francisco.
‘Weird,’ he thought, slowing momentarily before continuing on.
As he got closer, the details of the group became more clear. There was a middle-aged man, a woman close in age, a teenage boy, and a pair of preteen children: one boy, one girl.
When Reilley was within a few hundred yards, the man raised his hand and began moving it downward, signalling that he should stop the car.
‘Trap?’ Reilley asked himself, his right foot poised above the brake. Smiling, he looked toward the passenger seat, where the AR-15 was leaning against it. ‘If it is, joke’s on them,’ he said to himself.
He slowed the car as the group came into focus. Based on the way the teenager and two younger kids huddled near the woman, they appeared to be a family.
Coasting up next to the man, Reilley lowered his window.
“How ya doing?”
The man shook his head. “You don’t want to go that way, friend.”
Reilley frowned, looking at the road ahead. “What are you talking about? That’s the way to the Protective Zone, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” the man replied, looking at Reilley grimly. His eyes were sunken and looked haunted, either from stress, fear, both, or worse. “But the gangs have taken over all of San Jose. You can’t get through.” He shook his head again. “No way.”
“Shit,” Reilley said, chewing his lip as he considered his options. He’d come too far to turn back. The end was in sight. He could taste it.
Looking back at the man, he found the man’s eyes wide with shock as he took in the sight of Isabella tied up in the back seat.
Before he could say anything, Reilley said, “Hey, check this out.”
When the man looked down, he found himself looking down the barrel of Reilley’s handgun.
“Say nothing to your family there, and I won’t pull the trigger. Understand?”
The man nodded.
“Good, now back away.”
He did so.
Reilley jammed his foot down on the gas, causing the car to jump forward in response. He kept his foot on the gas until the family had disappeared from sight in his rear view mirror.
The man watched him go, stunned at what had just occurred. “Brian, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding. “But he had a little girl tied up in the back seat…”
“What?”
He looked at his wife and shook his head. “He had a gun, there was nothing I could do.”
The woman and children came over and put their arms around him, hugging him tightly. “It’s not your fault, honey,” she said. “We need you alive. Hopefully someone else will be able to do something.”
“I hope so,” he said, closing his eyes as he rested his head against his wife’s.
Beep beep.
Looking up, the man saw a grizzled looking man with a gun strapped to his back approaching on, of all things, a pink moped.
‘This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger,’ he thought, raising his hand to the man.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
South of San Jose, California
Serrano and the others were just over 10 miles away from Joe Reilley and Isabella when Joe used the radio, approaching San Jose from the south on Highway 101.
Leaning over, Serrano turned up the volume on the tactical radio as the man’s voice came through the speaker.
“San Francisco Protective Zone, this is Hermes. Come in, over.”
Serrano quickly pulled the Toyota SUV to the side of the road so that he could focus on the man’s words without distraction. Inside the vehicle, everyone went quiet, listening attentively to the exchange between the man and the General, taking mental notes as the man foolishly laid out his plan to the General.
When the man signed off, Serrano brought his hand up, signaling that everyone should remain quiet. He waited, staring at the radio, for nearly a minute before lowering his hand and turning the radio back down, lessening the sound of the static that came through the channel.
Reaching forward, he turned off the SUV’s engine, then turned and looked toward the others.
“Is this guy really that stupid?”
“Sounds like it,” Aaron said, shaking his head.
“No kidding,” Phillip added.
Seated next to her brother in the middle row, Jennifer said nothing as she shook her head in disgust.
From the back row, seated between her children, Sarah said, “That guy’s not just stupid, he’s an A-S-S-H-O-L-E.”
Looking up his mother, Jason said, “I know what you spelled, Mommy. That’s a bad word.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said, rubbing his shoulder.
Looking over at Richard in the passenger seat, Serrano saw the man deep in thought.
“Whatcha thinking, Rich?”
“I’m wondering if that guy is as stupid as we all think. What if he’s got something up his sleeve?”
Serrano considered this for a moment, then said, “Well, let’s figure out variables.” He held up a finger. “Location.”
Richard nodded. “And time.”
“How he gets there,” Phillip offered.
“What about the girl?” Sarah asked.
Chili looked back. “What about her?”
“I mean, like, could he have some way of using her to make sure he gets what he wants and gets away?”
Serrano and the others nodded.
“Yeah, definitely.” Serrano conceded.
“He could do something to her that would allow him to get away for sure, like having some type of trap that he’d threaten to use if they didn’t let him leave,” Aaron said, shaking his head.
“Like a bomb,” Phillip said.
“Or he could have someone with him that would target her from long range,” Richard offered.
“Shit,” Sarah said before catching herself. “I know,” she told Jason, raising her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, then, we’d better take time to strategize our approach.” Serrano finished, reaching for the door. “Let’s stretch our legs while we do so. Rich, can you grab the map?”
“Sure,” the old man said, doing so before opening his door. Grimacing in pain, he stepped gingerly from the door, hoping no one would notice his discomfort. They needed to be focused on rescuing the little girl, not on taking care of an old man.
Moving around the back of the SUV, Serrano opened the liftgate and grabbed water and snacks for the old man and passed it to him. Stepping aside, he let each of the others grab their ‘breakfast’ before grabbing his own. Opening the water, he took a swig and set aside, then unfolded the map and set it atop the box that held their remaining food.
“Look, the Government wants and needs that immune girl. There ain’t much they’ll be able to do in San Fran, so, as you heard, they want to get her out of there,” he said, before stopping to look at the others, making sure they followed. Seeing confirmation, he went on. “The place this Hermes character chose is….here.”He set his finger on the small green area on the map that represented Coyote Point Recreation Area.
“The question is, why did he choose that spot?” Richard asked.
Serrano shook his head. “It’s not great, but the airport is much worse. Tons of entrances and exits, which means they could come on him from almost any direction.”
“True,” Phillip said, nodding. “Here, he can come up from the South, do the exchange, and get back out.”
“Especially if he gets there early.” Aaron added.
“That’s what I’d do,” Serran
o said, nodding,
Sarah stepped forward, and looked at the map. “But won’t the military think of all this, too, just like you guys?”
Serrano chuckled. “Yeah. That’s one of the main reasons I said this guy’s stupid.”
Looking down at the map, she asked, “What about the bridges?”
Serrano considered this, then nodded.
“The bridges make sense,” Richard offered.
Looking up at the older man, Serrano nodded again. “I agree.” Looking at the map, he pointed at the bridge near the top of the folded section. “There’s no way he’ll go all the way up to the Bay Bridge. It’s too far, plus he’d have to go through Oakland, which was challenging enough prior to the outbreak.” Moving his finger down, he brought his pinkie finger up so that he could point at two spots simultaneously. Placing his forefinger on a thin bridge to the north and his pinkie an even smaller one to the south, he tapped his forefinger. “The San Mateo bridge is the wider one of the two, but he probably wouldn’t want that one. Too easy to set up an ambush. Plus he’d have to go that much further north through Freemont, Union City, and Hayward before he got there. I think he’ll want to get there as quickly as possible, get the exchange done and get out.”
“The Dumbarton bridge,” he tapped his pinkie on the tiny bridge near the southernmost portion of the bay before continuing, “is narrow and considerably shorter. He’d still have to go through San Jose and Milpitas, but he’d probably be able to sneak through most of Fremont by sticking close to the coastline, cutting through the Baylands and then through this industrial area. It won’t be easy, but it’d be preferable to cutting through Union City and Hayward.”
Pointing at the blue areas near the coastline that had outlined squares, Phillip asked, “What’s this area?”
Serrano looked at the area curiously. “Not sure.”
“Basically salt ponds,” Richard said, grimacing as he twisted himself, trying to stretch out the kinks in his back. “But there they call them Crystallizer beds. They’re planned and managed, unlike the natural forming salt ponds in say, Utah.”
Surviving Rage | Book 2 Page 54
