by Sid Kar
“What did he say?” Both Joe and Clara asked in unison.
“We have a location. Joe drive till you see the sign for Applewood Forest and pull on the dirt road near it,” Frank said.
Joe started up the car and hit the gas.
“Frank, that place is dirty,” Joe said, “spilled oil and leaked chemicals have leached into the ground all around.”
“That’s it Joe,” Frank said, “that is where we will find Dunlap’s dirty secret, literally.”
“You aren’t thinking oil spills are you?” Clara asked, “that’s old news, everyone knows and anyhow refineries have spilled a lot over the years. One tanker’s worth would be a drop in a bucket.”
“Agree, but oil is not the only fluid refineries use, nor probably the most dangerous,” Frank said, “after all we do use it every day in our cars and breathe its fumes every time we fill up the tank. No, there must be some other chemical, something so toxic that even a small leak would be a major threat to the public health. Consequently, the legal liability would be a significant threat to the company that was negligent enough to leak it.”
“If that is so, I don’t want to be near it,” Joe chuckled, “let me make a U-Turn here Frank?”
“No, Joe. They must have removed it. That’s why they hired Adam,” Frank said, “Friedrich did mention on the call that Adam turned around his tanker. They must have taken it and dumped it who knows where. Another reason to silence him. I will call dad later to ask about the chemicals in the oil refineries and their liability issues.”
“Frank there it is,” Joe pointed at the road sign that said ‘Applewood’ with an arrow pointing to the right and Frank rolled down his window and leaned out. He saw a large dirt road leading into the woods.
“That’s it, Joe. Make a turn here,” Frank said.
Joe drove the car on the dirt road and slowed down anticipating the bumps. But the road had been considerably smoothened by the vehicle tires and they only hit a few rocks or branches that lightly jolted their car. Joe kept driving and Frank looked around everywhere to see a sign for a clearing. A minute later Frank saw a blue SUV parked underneath a tree.
“Joe slow down to a crawl,” Frank said.
When their car reached the SUV, they saw that the area had been cleared off. There was a circular clearing with a diameter large enough to accommodate even an 18 wheeler truck. Joe braked and stopped the car and looked at Frank.
“I believe you said a ‘Clearing’ on your call,” Joe said.
“This is it,” Frank said, “it is large enough for Adam to have stopped his tanker here.”
“It looks like a parking lot for hikers and fishermen,” Clara said.
Frank and Joe both laughed.
“No one fishes in Cider Creek,” Frank said, “unless they like their fish coated with a film of oil.”
“Good for frying the fish though,” Joe chuckled.
“Applewood Forest…Cider Creek…what is this…” Clara asked.
“There used to be a lot of cider mills here, way back when,” Frank said, “it was said that the creek’s water tasted of cider from mills throwing away their spoiled and excess batches, hence the name. Now it tastes of oil.”
“Should rename it Gasoline Creek,” Joe grinned.
“Only daytime hikers might come here,” Frank said opening his door, “let’s look around.”
Joe and Clara got out and followed Frank. They could hear the creek running off at some distance in front of them but its view was blocked by trees and bushes. There were no hikers in sight and Frank looked into the SUV and found it empty.
“Where to?” Clara asked, “what are we looking for if not the toxic chemical you said they would have illegally transported out?”
“A place to bury a body,” Frank said, “must have been some hiker or hunter who saw them. Or maybe a resident of a nearby town who went for a long walk in the woods.”
“Frank, we would need a hundred troopers with shovels to dig out this forest to find a body,” Joe said.
“No we don’t,” Frank replied, “we have dug out buried bodies before, Joe. Remember what I have told you about the murderers who bury their victims?”
“That they leave a sign near the burial place to remind themselves,” Joe replied.
“Why would they do that?” Clara asked, “isn’t the purpose to hide it so well that no one finds it.”
“Right, but homicide detectives have discovered that killers can never be sure they might not have to dig it out again,” Frank said, “years down the road, there could be construction, development, a utility laying a pipe. Now that would bring back the ghosts from the past they wished stayed buried. Joe, I believe we have shovels in the trunk.”
“Only two,” Joe said looking at Clara.
“I am quite happy to let you two gentlemen do the work,” Clara smiled.
Frank walked to the trunk and took out two shovels tied in the corner. Their handles were wooden but sturdy and the blades were hard steel. He handed one over to Joe.
“Where do we start digging?” Joe asked.
“My guess would be they buried the witness somewhere near where the leaked chemical streamed down from the refinery,” Frank replied.
“How did you guess that?” Joe asked.
“It was revolver shot that we saw,” Frank said, “not a long distance rifle kill. A hiker or whoever witnessed them try to mop up the leak must have walked over. Then someone from Dunlap’s group capped him with a revolver.”
“Could be our boy, Adam, himself,” Joe said, “he was a crook too.”
“I don’t think so. He was just a cigarette smuggler,” Frank said, “besides we saw that shot at a right angle, not straight ahead like Panther’s shot.”
“This toxic chemical could have streamed down into the Cider Creek,” Clara said.
“Nah, then they wouldn’t have bothered, just let it run down wherever,” Frank shook his head, “it must have been a vat or a pipeline that burst and sent it flowing downhill over the land.”
Frank pointed to their northeast at the round steel structures jutting over the treetops.
“That’s Dunlap’s refinery. They always build those at the highest elevation to avoid flooding and also for these very situations where a pipe may burst and leak. They don’t want their own chemicals from one vat to mix with the others causing the release of dangerous vapors and potential of fire and explosion,” Frank said.
“Then we keep moving towards the refinery till we reach the straight downhill spot where the chemical would have settled down,” Clara said.
“Let’s go,” Frank said.
Frank walked ahead with the shovel on his shoulder and Clara and Joe followed behind him as they advanced in the northeasterly direction through the woods keeping the overhanging structures of the refinery in their view.
The woods became denser the further they went from the Clearing where they had parked their car.
“Frank, do gasoline tankers have suction hoses that can stretch this long?” Clara asked, “I can’t see how Adam would have driven his tanker closer to here.”
Frank was wondering the same. The land was uneven and it was unlikely that any liquids flowed all the way here.
“Maybe they brought along a long hose,” Frank wondered aloud.
“Frank, look,” Joe said. He pointed straight ahead towards a sign about three hundred feet ahead of them. It was the universally recognized danger symbol of skull and cross bones etched in fading black ink on a wooden board driven into the ground with a stake. The words below were too small to be read from the distance.
“Let’s check it out,” Frank replied.
They hurried towards the wooden board and Clara marched in front while Frank and Joe were slower in coming carrying the burden of the shovels.
“Stay Away: Industrial Pollution Area,” Clara read the sign out aloud, “Frank, if you are right the body must be buried around here somewhere…” Clara said but got no reply. Suddenly
Frank’s hand grabbed her wrist tightly.
“Frank, what…” she said and looked up straight ahead and startled back. There were two men standing a hundred feet in front of them carrying a shovel each on their own shoulders. The barrels of rifles protruded out from behind both of their backs. Clara had missed sighting them as their black clothes and ski masks had blended with the shadows from the nearby trees. Clara stood there frozen.
Apparently, the two strangers had also been caught unaware with the presence of the new arrivals. They stood still for a moment unsure of their next action.
“Joe, Clara,” Frank whispered then shouted, “Take cover. Now!”
Four shovels hit the ground the next moment.
Five hands went for their guns.
Five pairs of legs scrambled to take cover behind the nearest trees.
Frank had drawn his pistol just as he turned on his toes and jumped behind a thick tree bark to his right.
The shooting started the next moment.
A couple of bullets bounced off the tree Frank was taking cover behind. He looked at Clara and Joe. Both of them had managed to take cover. Clara was standing with her pistol drawn behind the tree next to him and Joe had taken cover one tree over. Frank took a glance from his right, saw a rifle protrude out from behind a tree, and jumped right back. Next moment a bullet whistled past him hitting the dirt a few feet away.
G36 rifles again…Renegade Squadron.
Frank came out from the left side and fired a bullet of his own striking the gunman’s cover tree to let him know he too was armed.
But he was low on ammo. One in the chamber and ten in the mag…eleven…now down to ten.
He would have to count every bullet and make every bullet count.
Frank looked at Joe and Clara. They were taking turns firing round after round at the gunman who had positioned himself behind a tree opposite to them.
“Joe, Clara,” Frank shouted. He pointed to the bottom of his pistol grip and made numbers with his fingers. He didn’t think they had extra mags but he didn’t want to alert the attackers to this fact by shouting instructions.
Joe and Clara nodded their heads in understanding and stopped firing.
Frank took out his police radio and transmitted to dispatch.
“Dispatch, this is Detectives Frank Kirk and Joe Marsh, requesting immediate backup. Shooting in progress in Applewood Forest…” Frank stopped there for a fraction of a second.
How did Friedrich know it was Applewood Forest and not Applewood Park?
He forced that thought out of his mind.
“…Two shooters, extremely dangerous and armed with automatic firearms, possibly G36, advise backup units to advance with rifles,” Frank said.
“Received, Detective Frank, and transmitting the call for help immediately,” dispatch replied.
Frank cut off his radio. He didn’t need any distraction. He would know the backup was here when he heard the sirens. But he didn’t think it would last that long. It was going down soon.
“Hey, Kyle. It’s that state cop from the Parkway, be careful,” gunman opposite to Joe’s position shouted to his partner who was firing at Frank.
They had heard Frank’s transmission. The distance wasn’t far but Frank also realized that he was practically shouting under stress. Frank forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths.
“I got him, Shawn. You knock out the bitch and the lard ass pig,” Kyle replied.
“Bastard,” Joe shouted back in anger and fired a couple of rounds. Frank had no choice but to provide cover for Joe by firing two rounds of his own. Down to eight, he counted.
Apparently, they were counting too. It suddenly registered in Frank’s brain that the Renegade Squad mates weren’t unloading on full auto – as they had on the Parkway – but were instead firing single shots intermittently, conserving their own ammo. Frank dearly hoped they too had only one mag each, after all they too were expecting no battle.
Three against two, advantage us…
However sooner or later they were going to realize that Frank and company only had pistols, if they hadn’t realized this already.
Suddenly both Shawn and Kyle fired back two more shots while they retreated to the trees further behind.
They evidently had realized it…Frank thought.
Rifles against pistols, advantage them.
“Frank, they are running away,” Clara said.
“No they are not,” Frank replied. He fired a couple of bullets of his own just as he too ran ahead and dived to take cover back of a tree ahead. Kyle fired a single shot but it went over Frank just as he hit the ground. Frank stood back up. Down to six and counting.
“Where are you going Frank?” Clara yelled after him.
Frank was sweating the knowledge that he could not count on hitting them accurately beyond 200 feet with his Glock pistol while they could take him, Joe and Clara out all the way from 800 feet. If the distance widened anywhere over their effective firing range, it was game over. Then the Renegades would pick their spots and pick their targets.
It was a tactical battle now and for all Frank knew his opponents too had gone through the same Jungle and Swamp Warfare training course in the Everglades with the same instructors.
Kyle and Shawn fired a shot each but this time split and ran in opposite directions with Kyle running further to Frank’s right and Shawn further to Joe’s left.
But Frank was ready and in sync with their tactics. They were trying to flank them and outrange them but he wasn’t going to allow that to happen.
Frank too sprinted to the tree to his right keeping Kyle roughly positioned straight ahead of him. This time Kyle didn’t take a shot at him, giving credence to Frank’s theory that Kyle and Shawn were also low on ammo.
“Joe! Joe!” Frank transmitted over his radio.
“What’s up, Frank?” Joe asked.
“You and Clara have to keep up with Shawn. Be careful when advancing, but do not let that shooter Shawn get more than 150 feet from you,” Frank said.
“Oh, crap…” Joe said nervously, “they got rifles.”
“Yep, take care of yourself and Clara. I am going after this other one, Kyle,” Frank cut off the radio transmission just as he saw Kyle make another move towards a tree further back to the right.
Bastard was trying to cut them off from the parking lot, Frank knew. What would he have given to have his AR-15 now!
The damn blue SUV! Frank jumped on spot as the thought hit him like a hammer on his nose. That must belong to the Renegades and they would have more ammo in there. If Kyle managed to retrieve more mags and lay down automatic fire, Frank could never hope to maneuver. He would be pinned down and put down.
He had to make a decisive move now. First he had to close the distance again.
Frank spotted a thick tree bark ahead to his right and ran at it while firing two more bullets. Kyle brought out his rifle but one of Frank’s bullet narrowly avoided missing its barrel and Kyle pulled it back behind the tree.
Down to four fucking bullets…Frank thought kicking the tree.
He was out of options and an idea occurred to him which he thought was ridiculous. But
he had to try a deceptive stratagem now. If this failed and Kyle reached closer to the Clearing where their cars were parked, Frank would have no choice but to make a mad suicidal dash after Kyle to try to stop him from reaching his SUV.
Frank fired one more bullet near the tree where Kyle was taking cover just to delay his next move.
Frank took out his phone and furiously scrolled his videos till he came across the video Frank had taken of Joe firing his AR-15 last Fourth of July at the barbeque on Joe’s property. Frank increased the volume to the loudest and turned on the speaker phone. First few seconds was Joe talking.
He hit play and tossed the phone with an underarm throw into a bush near a tree that was standing thirty feet to Kyle’s right.
‘Frank, I am going to shoot this bad boy on Full Auto’,
Joe’s voice loudly echoed from the phone in the bushes.
Kyle spasmed on the spot with the dread that the other cop had sneaked up so close to him and that he actually did have a rifle.
Kyle fired a shot towards the sound of the voice, fired another one towards Frank and prepared to move out.
The intense tempo of AR-15 firing on automatic thundered with metallic ecstasy.
Kyle shrieked, twitched the other way and ran for cover further behind.
Frank came out in the open and ran after him not pausing as he fired two shots in quick succession.
Kyle was struck in the back and fell down face first and hit his head on the ground with the thump that abruptly ended his painful scream.
Frank was not at all sorry that he had shot him down in the back. He was glad to have survived. But it was not over yet.
He ran over to Kyle’s dead body and stood over it for a second with his pistol pointed down.
He was down to one last bullet.
Frank gently kicked the rifle away a few feet. He looked at the wounds his bullets had made and when he was certain Kyle had not put on a deception, he knelt down and felt the pulse in his neck. Kyle was dead.
Frank turned around and looked at the situation Joe and Clara were in and knew he had to rescue them. Shawn had dexterously maneuvered himself into a cover position at least three hundred to four hundred feet away from them in the other direction while Joe and Clara had barely changed their spots since Frank had left them.
In a way he was glad Joe or Clara hadn’t made any moves across the open terrain. They had no tactical training or combat experience with laying down cover fire while simultaneously shifting position and Major Richard would have recruited no ordinary shooters in his company.
Frank picked up Kyle’s G36, detached the magazine, turned it upside down, felt the weight of the bullets on the palm of his hand and estimated he had four or five remaining. He attached the magazine again and ran diagonally to his left in an attempt to outflank Shawn. He would have loved to go back to his car and get his rifle but every second of delay increased the danger for Joe and Clara and he could not gamble with that.
Frank guessed that the outcome of his dual was still unknown to those three. He radioed to Joe as he maneuvered around the trees trying to get a clear view of Shawn.
