Terror Rising: Book 0 – The Insurgence (16 page)

“
Please. Kareem, listen to me. You
don’t want to do this,” Martinez pleaded.

Kareem brought the knife back up and pushed
it against his chin. “I’ve heard many men scream, and I’ve heard
many men beg.” He pressed the tip into Martinez’s neck as Martinez
struggled to prevent himself from shaking. “I’ve lost count of how
many I’ve cut up and mutilated as they lay screaming until their
last conscious breath drained away. As an executioner for ISIS,
sometimes I have had to keep men alive as long as possible so they
can feel every last moment of pain.”

Martinez couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Stop this!”

Kareem gave him an indulgent smile. He
pulled the knife away and tossed it onto the cart. He then studied
the other instruments, trying to make up his mind. His eyes stopped
at the power drill. He couldn’t think of any better way to send his
message.

“
Ah, here we go.” He held up the blue
cordless power drill, admiring the four-inch, blood-stained silver
drill bit. “Americans like their power tools.” He pulled the
trigger and held the drill close to his ear, listening to the
whirring sound of the motor and glancing at the spin of the drill
bit.

He lowered the drill, slowly bringing it
closer to Martinez’s face. Martinez jerked his head, but there was
no escape. The drill was moving steadily toward his eye. He closed
them both, squeezing tight. Then the sound of the drill stopped,
and when he opened his eyes again, Kareem was hovering over him,
looking down and smiling

“
Del Rio, you said?”

“
Yes.” Martinez’s heart was beating so
fast that he felt like it was going to explode.

“
The same Del Rio where we lost our
truck?”

“
Yes,” Martinez said.

“
And you had something to do with
that?”

Martinez didn’t respond. Either answer could
get him a drill in the eye or somewhere just as painful. In his
moment of hesitation, Kareem brought the drill to the thick of his
shoulder, pulled the trigger, and drove it through his flesh—all
the way until it hit bone.

Martinez screamed from an intensity of pain
he had never experienced in his life. He had no idea such pain was
possible. The drill continued to tear into his arm as Kareem pushed
it farther in with glee. Blood gushed from the open, ravaged wound,
and at the height of his anguish, Kareem yanked the drill out, and
to Martinez’s horror, presented him with bits of his own flesh
still clinging to the tip of the drill. He was gasping and weeping
with pain.

“
Where,” said Kareem, “are those
endorphins when we need them most?” He laughed with a calm cruelty,
and began to wipe the drill clean before turning back to Martinez.
“I want the names of who was there. My boss told me that we’re
looking for two federal agents. A man and a woman. I’m guessing
you’re the man, so who’s your bitch partner?”

Drenched in sweat, Martinez looked around in
a state of delirium. He thought of Gloria and the boys. If he could
just see them again…

Kareem lowered the drill and leaned against
the table, inches from Martinez’s face, speaking as though he were
a confidant. “Jorge Martinez. This is not going to end well for you
if you keep withholding information.” He raised two fingers in the
air. “You have two choices here. Tell me what I want to know and
die quickly, without pain, or keep stalling and have the longest,
most painful death you could ever imagine.” He paused and leaned in
even closer, talking not above a whisper. “I can go as long as you
can. My most stubborn patient lasted for seventy-two hours.”

Martinez’s petrified
silence only encouraged Kareem more. He brought the drill back up.
“You know why
we
are here?” He paused, waiting for an answer. “No? Well, your
stupid government brought us here. They brought us here by the
thousands. Can you believe that?” He shook his head and laughed.
“We applied for refugee status. All of us! Not a woman or child
among us!” He calmed down and caught his breath. “Wouldn’t you know
it, we’re war refugees!”

He turned the drill back on and brought it
to a different spot along Martinez’s arm.

“
Sarah!” Martinez shouted. “Sarah
Jones!”

Kareem stopped and studied Martinez’s pale,
terrified face. “Not convinced…” Without turning it on, he placed
the bit against Martinez’s arm, and pushed it in slightly. “Is the
suspense killing you?” he asked, “or should I do that?”

Then he pulled the trigger and drilled
through Martinez’s soft flesh, right at the bicep. Martinez
screamed until his voice went hoarse. Then the drill came out,
leaving a quarter-inch hole and a trail of dark blood leaking down
his arm.

“
Stop screaming or
you will wake the dead,” Kareem joked. “Now, try again,” Kareem
said. “I want her name. You can lie, risk it if you want. See if I
don’t catch on.” He then brought the drill right to Martinez’s left
eye. “Tell me another lie, and this is gonna go
right
in. Just enough to
pop your little pupil into goo.”

Martinez closed his eyes, trying to hold
back the tears. Aside from primal fear, he felt confused and
disoriented. Had he any chance to escape?

“
Five seconds,” Kareem said,
causally.

“
Angela!” Martinez shouted.

Kareem kept his finger at the ready,
caressing the trigger. “Angela who?”

“
Angela Gannon. Border Patrol Agent
Angela Gannon!” Martinez’s voice echoed throughout the room, and
when he opened his eyes, he saw that the drill was no longer there.
Seeming convinced, Kareem set it aside and grabbed a pair of
pliers. “That time I believe you.”

He stopped and signaled one of his men over
as Martinez began to fade in and out of consciousness. Kareem spoke
quickly to the man in Arabic, saying the name Angela Gannon several
times. The masked man nodded and then left the room as though he
had been dispatched to deliver a message. Once the man was gone,
all of Kareem’s attention was back on Martinez.

“
There’s some more questions I have
for you, and then we’ll be done.” He held up a pair of rusty pliers
to the light, flashing his perpetual smile. “But first… I’m going
to have to ask you to open wide.”

He pushed Martinez’s head down, squeezing
his nose shut. Martinez shut his mouth and tried his best to
resist, but breathing was getting more difficult by the second. The
moment his mouth opened, gasping for breath, Kareem went in with
the pliers, squeezing them against his front teeth. Martinez
pleaded with him to stop, but Kareem was far too determined.

Suddenly a rumbling could be heard
outside—something large and alarming. He pulled the pliers away
from Martinez’s mouth and stood frozen listening. He spoke quietly
and with urgency to his men. No one, it seemed, knew what was going
on.

“
It’s him,” one of the masked men
shouted, pointing at Martinez. “He brought more of them
here!”

Martinez tried to look around to understand
what was going on, but the men seemed in a panic. He could hear the
noise as well: whopping helicopter rotors with an engine that
sounded as though it was descending fast.

“
Call headquarters!” Kareem shouted.
“Tell them everything this man told us. We have to act
now!”

The men scrambled and ran out of the room
with Kareem following in a panic and leaving Martinez with the most
immense sense of relief he had ever felt in his life.

Wolves to Slaughter

With the compound in view, the FBI
helicopter touched down near their set coordinates. The quick
plunge startled Angela, and she gripped the seat but the FBI team,
night-vision goggles affixed to their helmets, seemed calm and
ready as could be.

The red light inside the helicopter only
made it more difficult to see anything within their dark cabin.
They landed with a tremendous shake that nearly tossed Angela out
of her seat. Next to her, Sutherland wasted no time. He adjusted
his night-vision goggles, stood up, and opened the door, calling to
the team, “Let’s move out!”

Lynch and Hopper rose, but Thaxton remained
seated, ready and waiting as she had been in their previous raid.
Angela grabbed her night-vision goggles and unbuckled her seat
belt, moving toward the door and looking for the spare vest. Hooper
and Lynch jumped out. As she moved to the door, Sutherland blocked
her way.

“
You stay here with the assistant
director. If we need you, we’ll let you know.”

Surprised, her mouth
dropped open. “He’s
my
partner!”

“
We don’t know who or what’s in there
at the moment, if anyone! If there are people inside, they
certainly know we’re here.”

Angela went for her pistol and pulled it
from her side holster. “I know how to use this.”

Sutherland shook his head. “Negative. You
sit tight. This won’t take long.”

She turned to the director, who was busy
monitoring the laptop resting on her legs. Sutherland jumped out
and shut the door before she could respond. Thaxton looked up at
Angela and shrugged then patted the spot next to her.

“
Have a seat, Agent
Gannon.”

Angela huffed and sat down, as the
helicopter’s rotors continued to spin. She held the night-vision
goggles to her eyes and looked over the pilot’s shoulder beyond the
windshield where she could see the FBI team racing toward a large,
square compound. An all-encompassing tarp supported by several
poles covered it entirely.

“We can watch it all on here,” Thaxton said,
pointing to the screen.

Angela glanced at the screen to see three
open windows displaying live video feeds from the agents’ helmet
cams. She had not even been aware they were wearing cameras. The
images showed the compound getting closer as they moved to one
side, looking for an entrance. There were no entrances and, from
the looks of it, no doors.

As much as she wanted to watch, she felt
deeply conflicted about having to wait behind. Thaxton noticed her
silence and turned to her, speaking close to her ear. “I’m going to
level with you. Captain Martinez may be a little over his head
here.”

“
Tell me something I don’t know,”
Angela snapped. She then realized who she was talking to. “Sorry,
ma’am.”

Thaxton waved her off. “What I mean is that
our mutual friend may have fallen in with the wrong group.”

Angela looked at her,
stunned. “
What?
The terrorists?”

“
No,” Thaxton said. “Not the kind you
may be thinking of. These are homegrown vigilantes, and the
government wants to clamp down on them. I’m sure you’ve heard of
them in your profession.”

Angela shook her head.

“
The South Texas
Border Recon. Call themselves
the
Outlaws
,” Thaxton continued. Noticing
Angela’s skepticism, she elaborated. “I’m not talking good ol’
American boys. These guys are dangerous.” She held her hands ten
inches apart from each other. “We’ve got a file on them this thick.
Administration wants them stopped.”

“
And Captain Martinez?” Angela said in
disbelief.

“
We’re hoping that he’ll lead us to
them.”

“
But the address?” Angela said. “That
man, Mahmoud. He said this was an ISIS location.”

“Look around where you’re at,” Thaxton said,
trying to talk over the engine. “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Angela glanced at the screen. The team had
circled to the other side of the building, stopping at a metal door
sealed shut. One of the agents attached a digital cube-like device
on the door and then set a timer on it, crouching for cover.

Angela stood up, ready to give the assistant
director a piece of her mind and damn the consequences. “Is ISIS in
that building or not? Who in the hell are we looking for?”

Thaxton remained calm and collected as
always and then spoke, barely raising her voice. “We don’t know
just yet. This location was not on our radar before. It’s the first
we’ve heard of it. Either way, we’re going to set up camp and wait
for Captain Martinez and his border recon team.”

“
And then what?” Angela shouted.
“Arrest him?”

“
With you here, that may not be
necessary,” Thaxton said as her eyes went back to the
screen.

Angela stood frozen. She felt sick inside,
like someone had punched her in the gut. The entire mission was a
crapshoot, based on the assumption that the FBI could intercept
Captain Martinez. Thaxton showed little, if at all, concern about a
terror cell. Astoundingly, her priorities seemed skewed far in the
other direction.

Angela scanned the helicopter and saw a
bulletproof vest lying on the floor at the end of Thaxton’s seat.
She walked to the end of the seat, and grabbed the vest, hoisting
it over her head and onto her shoulders.

Her quick movements gained Thaxton’s
otherwise distracted attention. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly, a brief explosion lit up the side
of the compound like a firecracker. Angela ran to the door, pulled
the handle, and swung it open.

“
Get back here!” Thaxton
shouted.

Angela jumped out and slammed the door
behind her. She sprinted off without looking back. Something was
going on, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to be used any
longer. She was well aware that Thaxton was running after her, but
she had already gained a sizeable lead. Whatever the FBI was up to,
she planned to be right there with them. Her partner needed
her.