Blind Justice (28 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

As the
all clear
signs continued from inside the complex, Munroe instructed Katherine to lead him closer to the building. He wanted to be ready when and if they received the final confirmation from the team leader that they could enter. If they had missed Almeida, maybe they could at least find some clue to his next move.

He wondered if Annabelle was faring any better. In her last update, he learned that she had checked off several sites from Joey
’
s list without detecting any suspicious activity. Now, darkness had fallen, and most workers from the sites had retired with the sun. She was going to continue to check the sites through the night, even if she had to break in to do it, but Munroe knew that was a long shot.

He fought for a method to narrow the search, but anger and fear kept clouding his mind.

His emotions kept getting in the way. He needed to stop thinking about the girls and start thinking about the evidence. He needed to look at it clearly and objectively like any other case. Maybe there was something he had missed. Some small puzzle piece that would make all the rest fit together.

The evidence. Facts.

As Jonas Black and the others had watched Almeida
’
s video of the kids
’
burial for any visual clue to where the children were being held, Deacon Munroe had done the only thing he could. He listened. As the video had played, he focused on the sounds. The background noises that most people ignored. Those tiny nuances were his world, and he had memorized every one contained in that video. Unfortunately, he hadn
’
t identified any distinct noise that could pinpoint a location from a wide geographic scale.

The two most distinctive sounds were an irregular and metallic banging, like that of sheet metal, and a rhythmic tut-tut-tut. But he had also heard the buzz and chirp of insects and birds.

In his mind, he pictured a blank chalkboard. On it, he wrote each piece of hard evidence from the crime scenes and the details he remembered from the video of his daughters being buried. He studied each line.

A banging noise. Sheet metal?

A rhythmic tut-tut-tut sound.

Prominent insect and bird sounds. Wooded area? Rural? Trees nearby, at the least.

Marine clay, most prominent between Interstates 95 and 395.

Brick dust.

Plaster.

Insulation.

Glass particles.

Chlorpyrifos, the pesticide. Used on golf courses.

He hadn
’
t focused on the chemical initially because it didn
’
t relate to the others in any obvious way and wasn
’
t found at both crime scenes, but there was something about it that gnawed at him. Some possible connection between all of the pieces of evidence. Some shadow of memory dancing at the edge of his consciousness but refusing to take shape.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Annabelle. She answered and explained that they hadn
’
t made any further progress. The desperation was evident in her voice, and it echoed his own feelings, but he had one more lead for her to pursue. He said, “I want you to check out every golf course close to our target area.”

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

After Pike had initially shot the perimeter guards, Miguel had driven the vehicle down the road and parked it just within the edge of the woods. Almeida had instructed him to do so for this very contingency. After studying the blueprints contained on the flash drive, he knew that a maintenance hatch led up from the lab to the rear of the aboveground facility. This made it easy for them to slip past the incoming assault team and escape into the trees with their prize.

As they moved quickly through the darkness toward the vehicle, Almeida thought again of the strange container. Vaquero had told him that, since the death of his son, he wanted Almeida to take over the business when he died. If he could trust him with the empire, why not tell him about a simple container?

He tried to put such thoughts away. Anything was mere speculation at that point. Instead, he thought of the assault team and wondered if they had discovered the surprise he had prepared for them. He hated that such an action was necessary to cover their escape.

Thinking of those poor men, he said a quick prayer and asked the Lord to watch over them during the coming storm. He hoped that at least some of them would survive.

CHAPTER NINETY

The team leader screamed for everyone to get out, but it was too late. Black dropped to the floor as another member of the squad opened fire into the ceiling. Like a spark igniting a powder keg, the sound of gunfire triggered the instincts of every member of the team. The room exploded with bullets as six highly trained men armed with machine guns blasted imaginary enemies in a wild frenzy.

Black fought to keep his sanity, but with every passing second, his thoughts grew cloudier, and the rage boiled up.

The workstations blew apart under the barrage. Computer monitors, microscopes, papers, glass, plastic, metal—the debris erupted from the tables. Someone targeted the overhead lights, plunging half the room into darkness. The air smelled like it was on fire.

Black heard screaming over the ringing in his ears, but then he realized that the scream emanated from deep in his own throat. Now, he was up and running. For a moment, he felt disconnected from his body. Instead of occupying his own shell, he floated weightless apart from it.

One by one, the team members ran out of ammo and lacked the knowledge of how to reload. He heard more yelling and felt something wet and warm.

He pulled back as he realized that he had just knocked one of the other men unconscious, and blood covered his fists.

Something struck him from behind. He fell to the floor and looked back to see the team leader using his gun as a club. The pain shot through his back as the man pummeled him over and over.

Black
’
s arms and legs flailed in uncontrolled fury directed at nothing in particular. But then finally he connected with a knee, and the team leader toppled over one of the workstations and fell to the floor.

He had to get out. He couldn
’
t think of anything beyond that. But he knew that to stay in this room was to die.

The airlock rested ahead, and he sprinted toward it. Fighting off insanity, he managed to get through the airlock and pounded up the stairs. One foot in front of the other.
Run. Run as fast as you can.
Something behind him. Chasing him.

Anger and fear were everywhere. All around him. The world was red with pain and terror.

Suddenly, the cool night air stung his skin. It gave him a brief second of clarity. He felt grass and dirt between his fingers. His whole body trembled. His skin burned. He was on fire. Then he screamed in a primal rage that couldn
’
t be defined by words.

A voice called out to him. Through the haze of red, he recognized it. Someone spoke to him again. Katherine? Where was she? He needed to tell her to get away from him, but he couldn
’
t form words.

With all his remaining strength and sanity, he yelled, “RUN!”

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

Katherine watched in horror as Black burst from the front door of the research facility and fell to the ground, shaking and screaming. She rushed forward to help him, thinking that he had been shot or injured. “Jonas! What happened?”

Black reared back and bellowed out something unintelligible. Then he swiped at the air and pounded the ground as if fighting some imaginary enemy that only he could see.

From behind her, Munroe said, “Katherine, step away from him slowly.”

She realized then that she was witnessing what had happened to John Corrigan when he killed his family and General Easton when he murdered his wife. The weapon had been released inside the building somehow, and Black had been exposed.

Out of instinct, she reached for her gun and cursed when she remembered that Almeida had taken it and she had yet to obtain a permanent replacement.

Jonas continued to pound his fists against the dirt and hadn
’
t seemed to recognize her presence. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Munroe stood near a hard-topped brown jeep labeled with some generic green and white logo. It was probably something used by the security staff. If she and Munroe could get inside the jeep, they could drive away and let the effects of the drug wear off. Or at the very least, they could lock the doors and hide.

Moving as slowly as possible, she stepped away from Black. She tried to keep her breathing under control, but she knew all too well what would happen if Black saw her. The photos of the crime scene in John Corrigan
’
s house flashed before her eyes. Would that be her fate? Torn apart, beaten to death by a madman.

Her heart rate spiked with every step backward, but every movement also brought her closer to safety.

Almost there, just a couple more feet.

Munroe had already opened the door and climbed into the cab. She resisted the urge to rush the last step.

Jonas Black
’
s head abruptly jerked in her direction. She froze. Every muscle in her body trembled. As she looked in his eyes, she knew that Jonas—the man she had grown to care about—was gone and something else had replaced him, some primitive evil that dwelled in the souls of all men had sprung to the surface and seized control.

He sprang forward. She screamed and hopped up into the driver
’
s seat of the jeep. Her hands fumbled over the steering column, but the keys weren
’
t in the ignition. Changing tactics, she slammed down the lock, sealing out the thing that Jonas Black had become.

But the big man was on his feet and charging. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the door panel. The whole vehicle shook from the impact. He clawed at the handle and then slammed his shoulder into the door again. Except that this time, the window took the brunt of the attack and shattered inward under the big man
’
s weight.

She screamed and reached across Munroe to open the passenger side door. Black pushed his body up and into the window. His fingernails dug into her back as he clawed at her like a wild beast. She pushed Munroe out the door and then fell on top of him.

Quickly regaining her feet, she dragged Munroe up from the dirt and pulled him toward the surrounding trees.

She looked back to see Black pulling his entire large frame through the window of the jeep, scratching and clawing his way after them.

Within a few seconds, they entered the forest, but the sound of Black tearing apart the jeep urged her forward. They had to keep going. They had to get as far away as possible and then hide. They couldn
’
t fight the massive former Recon Marine, especially in this crazed subhuman state.

Munroe stumbled over the uneven terrain, but she kept him on his feet as she pulled him deeper beneath the dark canopy. The moon was hiding that night, and dark clouds blotted out the stars, providing almost no light.

The deeper they traveled into the trees, the darker it became. The thick canopy choked out the light and left Katherine barely able to see a foot in front of her face. She pulled Munroe to the side and said, “We need to find a place to hide.”

Behind them, the sound of large feet tearing through the brush echoed over the rises and falls of the forest floor.

Jonas Black was coming for them.

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Katherine pulled him over fallen trees, up rises, down hills, deeper into the wilderness of the refuge. Then Munroe stumbled and toppled forward, taking Katherine down to the moist ground with him. “Enough,” he said finally. “We can
’
t outrun him.
”

“What else can we do? We need to keep moving or find a place to hide.”

Munroe quickly analyzed their situation. Black obviously had strength and ferocity on his side, but the big man had also lost all capacity for rational thought. They could hide, but Black was right on their tails. More than likely, he
’
d pass right by them, but what if he didn
’
t? If he found them, they would be defenseless. As in any battle, they needed to exploit their opponent
’
s weaknesses and utilize their strengths. So what advantage did they have over their enemy?

“How dark is it?”
Munroe asked.

“Like coal. I can barely see shadowy outlines of the trees. But we don
’
t have time—”

“Perfect. I want you to leave me. Run ahead a bit and find a place to hide. Make some noise and draw him to you. I
’
ll ambush him.”

“Are you out of your head? He
’
ll tear you apart!”

“Not in the darkness. Our large friend is essentially just as blind as I am. Except that I
’
m used to it, which gives me the advantage.”

CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

Annabelle stepped down the steps from the dining terrace of the Hill Crest Golf Course and Resort, the only golf course between I-95 and I-395, and moved back toward the GTO. The sound of music and laughter traveled around the veranda from the facility
’
s ballroom. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the searing aromas of prime rib. Expensive automobiles filled the parking lot, and the resort
’
s condos and suites were nearly at capacity.

She dropped into the driver
’
s seat of Joey
’
s car, feeling dejected and overwhelmed. “Anything?” Corrigan said from the passenger seat.

“No. I pushed them, but I didn
’
t see anything out of the ordinary. Plus, even if the cartel was involved in this place, they wouldn
’
t bury the kids here. There
’
s too much activity. Too many people. There are probably judges and lawyers and cops in there drinking and partying right now.”

“Sometimes the best place to hide is right out in the open. It
’
s the last place you look. Maybe Munroe
’
s contacts at the DEA would know something about this place?”

Her voice cracked as she said, “Maybe.” She white-knuckled the steering wheel, and the tears she had been fighting back for hours broke free and rained down her cheeks. She loved Makayla and Chloe like they were her own flesh and blood, and Deacon would never recover if they didn
’
t find the girls. Their loss would be more than he could handle. It would end him. The people she loved most in the world were counting on her, and she had failed them.

“I
’
m sorry,” Corrigan said. “This is all my fault.”

She wiped away the tears. “You
’
re as much a victim in this as anyone.”

“If I had been a better father, none of this would have happened. My family would be alive, and Black
’
s nephew and Munroe
’
s daughters would be home safe right now. You know, I was ready for my execution. I was ready to see my family again.”

Annabelle didn
’
t know what to say. How could she comfort a man who had held the bloody bodies of his children, knowing that they died by his hand?

She pulled out her phone and texted Joey the results of her inquiries at the golf course. She asked him to let Deacon know. He would be expecting a call from her, but she couldn
’
t stand to hear the pain in his voice.

Without another word to Corrigan, she shifted the GTO into gear and pulled from the parking lot.

~~*~~

Ramon Castillo watched the security feed as the black muscle car rolled away from the resort. It didn
’
t seem that the agent suspected anything, but that could have been a ruse. And the fact that she had come so close was extremely troubling. He wondered what else they knew. Did the government know what was coming?

One of his men shifted anxiously from one leg to the other as he stood in the corner of the room awaiting orders. Castillo calculated the risks and weighed the options as he would any other business decision.

“Bring my car around to the back. I
’
m going into the city.”

“What about those two?”

“Go after them. Find out what they know, and then kill them.”