Bad Nights (14 page)

When Jack and Morgan were gone, Shane turned to his partner, a hard look on his face.

“Did you see the cigarette burn on his arm?”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder where else they burned him and what else they did to him.”

“He'll tell us,” Max said

“You think he'll talk about it?”

“We'll make him.”

Shane wasn't sure, but he knew they had better put their current plan into motion. “Ready?”

Max nodded.

“You want to gather up brush first or return fire?” Shane asked.

“I'll gather brush.”

“The dangerous part.”

“You'll get your turn.”

They alternated scooping up handfuls of the dry weeds, with one of them returning fire while the other worked. They also collected dry branches and small tree limbs, all the time exchanging fire with the militiamen in the cave.

“Persistent bunch,” Max muttered. “You think we've got a big enough pile?”

“Depends. Do we want to roast them or keep them from coming out?”

“Good question. I think we can't gather enough for a militia barbecue. We'd better settle for pinning them inside while we get away.”

“Agreed.”

While Shane laid down a stream of gunfire, Max stood and hurled a smoke bomb at the cave mouth. It landed inside with a thud and went off, sending smoke into the cavern beyond.

They heard coughing and choking, which receded as the militiamen moved farther back from the entrance.

While they were away from the cave mouth, Shane and Max both rushed up. Shane carried the weeds. Max carried the branches. They threw them all into the cave, followed by a firebomb which they tossed onto the pile.

The weeds immediately caught fire, and the flames spread to the branches.

“Turnabout is fair play, don't you think?” Shane called out to the men inside the cave.

“Fuck you,” somebody answered.

After that there was only coughing from the interior. The Rockfort men turned and dashed back across the field and into the woods, the sound of coughing and cursing following them as they hurried back toward Morgan's ruined house.

“What's Cunningham going to say when he hears about this?” Max asked.

“Is he going to hear about it?”

“I think he has another source inside the militia compound besides Jack,” Shane answered as they slipped into the woods.

***

Inside the cave, the troops began to cough and curse.

“Get down low. Get farther back,” Wade shouted before a coughing fit seized him. He followed his own advice, sinking to his knees, then crawling to the back of the cave. His men followed.

When he saw Preston lying on the ground coughing, he grabbed the man's arm and started dragging him farther back. Another troop helped. In the smoke he wasn't sure exactly who it was.

The ceiling got lower as they moved farther back, but there was a piece of good news. There were several fissures in the floor, and the air coming up from below was uncontaminated.

“Lean over the cracks in the floor,” he managed to gasp out, hoping that his men were in good enough shape to follow directions.

He lay on the cold stone, silently cursing Jack Barnes and his friends and wondering how they had happened to show up just in the nick of time.

It was obvious now that Barnes had never been working alone. Somehow the other guys had been alerted and come looking for him, maybe when he had missed a check-in date. After that, they'd stumbled onto the burned house. Or maybe they'd been monitoring the local news. In any case, he was going to find out who the hell they were. Like, for example, Jack Barnes couldn't be the traitor's real name. Wade wanted to know what it was and how to find the bastard.

A new thought occurred to him. He hadn't bothered to check the man's fingerprints because his moneyman had vetted him. Now he was damn well going to find a way to check them out.

And what if Barnes and his buddies were planning a raid on the camp? Another reason to move up his attack on D.C.

As he scrambled for a way out of this mess, he thought about using his cell phone to call back to camp. But what good would that do? They were too far away for a rescue operation. Either the smoke would get him and the men in the cave or it wouldn't.

He finally gave up trying to think about anything constructive and simply lay on the cold, hard floor of the cave, dragging air into his lungs and coughing. Maybe he passed out. He wasn't sure, but sometime later he felt one of his troops rousing him.

“Colonel? Are you all right, Colonel?” The man gave Wade's shoulder a tentative shake.

He blinked and rolled over, staring up into the troop's worried face. “I've been better.” He laughed, and that triggered a coughing fit.

“The fire's died down a lot, and we were able to push the rest of the burning stuff away from the cave mouth.”

“Good work.”

“What are your orders, sir?”

He wanted to say they were going after Barnes and his friends, but probably they had too much of a head start.

“We're going back to headquarters and regroup,” he said. “Then we'll get the bastards who did this to us.”

***

Morgan was breathing hard by the time they reached her ruined house. She'd been thinking that Jack should be in worse shape because of his many injuries. But you wouldn't know it to look at him. He'd maintained a steady pace all the way back and stopped a couple of times when he saw she was having trouble keeping up.

He gave her a considering look. “We can rest again for a minute.”

Her answer was immediate. “I don't feel safe anywhere around here.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Still, they walked more slowly as they continued up the road, looking for the SUV Shane had mentioned. Her relief was instantaneous when it came into view.

She leaned against the side of the vehicle, breathing hard, glad she couldn't see her ruined house from this vantage point. It was too vivid a reminder of how close she and Jack had come to death.

He unlocked the door, and she climbed in.

When he didn't move to the driver's side, she gave him a questioning look. “What are you doing?”

“I saw the militia vehicles back there. I want to give those guys another nasty surprise.”

Instinctively she grabbed his arm. “Stay here.”

He disengaged his sleeve. “Not until I disable their transportation.”

“How?”

“Slash their tires. That should keep them busy for a while.” As he spoke, he pulled a knife from the pack he'd carried with him.

She didn't like him staying in the open, but she realized that he needed to exact some revenge on the men who'd tortured him and damn near burned them alive.

He handed her the keys. “If you hear any sounds of trouble, get the hell out of here.”

She wanted to scream at him to just climb in the car and lock the doors, but she kept her lips pressed together as she watched him head for the militia's vehicles. Still, her heart leaped into her throat when he disappeared from view.

In a very short time she'd come to care what happened to Jack Brandt.

She sat with her pulse pounding, half-expecting men in camouflage uniforms to leap from the woods and surround the SUV. But apparently they were all back at the cave coping with the fire that Shane had said he was going to set. Or had he been able to pull that off? If he'd done what he said, why hadn't he come back with the other guy, Max?

Her tension mounted as she waited for Jack to reappear. When she heard the sound of breaking glass, she jumped. Did that mean trouble?

She fingered the keys where she'd stuck them in the ignition, watching and waiting.

Finally she spotted Jack, with his friends, Shane and Max. When she'd first spotted them, she'd thought they were very similar to Jack, tough-looking men who did what it took to finish a job. Now, to her surprise, all three men were grinning like little boys who had just raided the neighbor's watermelon patch.

Jack waved when he saw her staring at them. “I met Max and Shane on the way.”

“What was that glass-breaking sound?”

“A rock through the window of one of the vehicles. I couldn't resist.”

“And we got all the tires,” Shane said.

“Good,” she answered. She'd never been a party to destroying personal property, but in this case, it was more than justified if it kept the militia from coming after them.

The Rockfort men climbed into the SUV, with Shane slipping behind the wheel. Jack and Max climbed into the backseat.

Shane started the engine and glanced at her. “Put on your seat belt. We don't want anything to happen now.”

She pulled the belt across her body and clicked the buckle into place as he drove up the road.

Shane turned around and looked over his shoulder at Jack. “I suggest we go to the Rockfort safe house.”

“Agreed,” Jack answered.

As they passed Morgan's house, she couldn't stop herself from turning in her seat, looking at what was left of the blackened structure, thinking that she would probably never see this place again. She'd gone there to bury memories of her husband and almost gotten buried herself. All because she'd tried to help a man who looked like he was in trouble. Of course, he'd ended up saving her.

“What happened to the militia?” she asked.

“We started with a smoke bomb to pin them down, then set a fire at the mouth of the cave like I planned,” Shane answered.

“I mean, did it kill them?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“The fire wasn't going to burn long. I think they got out.”

***

In the field outside the cave, Wade Trainer evaluated the men who sprawled around in the weeds looking like victims in a disaster practice drill. Only this was for real.

They'd all breathed in smoke, but they had all made it out of the cave under their own power.

“Report your condition,” he ordered. “Starting with Salter and going clockwise.”

One by one they sat up straighter and sounded off, each of them reporting, “Fit to travel.” All except Preston, of course.

From the angle of his leg, it was clear it was broken. Probably some other bones as well. The morphine had worn off, and he was fighting pain.

Wade leaned down and spoke quietly to the injured man. “We'll get you back to camp, and you'll be as good as new.”

He didn't know if that was true, but he was going to keep the guy's spirits up. That was the job of a commander.

He had his men improvise a stretcher out of two long poles and three uniform shirts tied by the sleeves across them to form a flat surface.

“We'll take turns carrying him back to the vehicles,” he said.

He was gratified when several men volunteered to take the first shift.

They made reasonable time back to the place where they'd left the SUVs, and he was feeling a measure of satisfaction until he saw the smashed windshield of the lead car.

Anger surged through him as he inspected the damage. The tires on every one were slashed, and the car with the windshield bashed in was his.

“The pricks.” He wanted to unholster his sidearm and start shooting. But there was nothing that made an acceptable target. And he wasn't going to vent pointless rage in front of his men. He had to appear strong and confident. He had to make it clear that he was still in charge. Plus it could have been a lot worse. They'd all made it out of the cave. He should be thankful for that. He hadn't lost any of his loyal troops.

When he thought he could speak without shouting, he pulled out his cell phone and called the camp. DeStefano answered on the first ring.

“Are you all right, sir? We were worried when we didn't hear from you.”

“We're all right. Only Preston needs immediate medical attention.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Send the troop-carrier truck to the burned house. On the double.”

“What happened to your SUVs?” the man on the other end of the line asked.

“Don't question my orders. Just follow them,” Wade snapped before clicking off.

He stood for a moment, struggling for control, aware that everyone was watching him, judging his reaction.

Again he focused on the positive.

He'd find Barnes and his friends, and he'd make them wish they'd never messed with Wade Trainer.

***

Morgan had never had more mixed feelings. Turning in her seat, she gave Jack a searching look, seeing the determination on his face. “If they got out, you have to stay away from them.”

“I will, for now.”

“You're not going into their camp again,” she added for emphasis, knowing that she had no right to give him orders. Yet the words had simply tumbled out.

“Not without a lot of backup,” he answered.

She sat with her heart thumping, afraid of what he was going to do. Could she keep him safe?

Not if he didn't want to be safe.

The three men in the car were talking, and she tried to follow what they were saying. But she was too worn out and perhaps too disoriented.

The events of the past few days seemed like an insane nightmare that Professor Morgan Rains had dreamed up—maybe when she was in the hospital after an auto accident or something. Yet she knew that they were true.

How was she going to get back to her normal life now? She didn't know, and she figured she was in no shape to think about it until she got some sleep. She'd go to their safe house with the men and deal with the rest later.

She leaned back in her seat as they rode through the Virginia countryside. Jack had said their offices were in Rockville, hadn't he?

It was difficult to keep her eyes open, and finally she lost the battle. She didn't wake until the car came to a stop.

Her eyes blinked open, and she saw they were in a circular gravel drive in front of what looked like an old farmhouse with a peaked tin roof and weathered siding.