Threat Warning (33 page)
His instincts said to stay put and fight it out, but that option, bravado aside, could only end badly for all of them.
His earpiece popped as someone broke squelch on the radio. Kendig Neen’s voice said, “Last chance to surrender. That is, if you’re still alive. In thirty seconds, we’re coming for you.”
Jonathan looked to Boxers. “We’ve had this discussion before,” Big Guy said. “I don’t surrender. You want to try to make a break with them in tow, I’ll cover your six, but I don’t surrender to nobody.”
Christyne cried, “They’re going to kill us all!”
He looked to Gail. “I don’t see we have a chance either way,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a vote to fight,” Jonathan said.
She shrugged.
Christyne whined, “Maybe they’ll show mercy if we surrender?”
“No way,” Ryan said. “I’ve seen their mercy. I’m not going through—” He paused. “I hear a helicopter.”
“Fifteen seconds,” Neen said.
Jonathan glanced past the fire and saw skirmish lines forming. With the shutters gone, that would be their entry point. He heard the helicopters, too. “Big Guy?”
Boxers cocked his head. He scowled. Then he smiled. “Little Birds?”
Then, as if in answer to his question, a new voice arrived in his ear. “Scorpion, this is Romeo Foxtrot Six.”
The cavalry had arrived.
The sound of approaching helicopters startled Kendig. Aircraft never flew over this part of the world, unless they were ferrying Brother Michael from one place to another. Was it possible that he’d sent for his chopper to flee by air? If that were the case, then he must have been hiding from Sister Colleen when she went to his house to collect the weapons.
Then he heard the new voice on the radio. “. . . Romeo Foxtrot Six. We’re on quarter-mile final, coming in hot, and recommending you stay inside with your heads down.”
His stomach seized at the realization of what was happening. The sound of the rotors grew louder. The soldiers heard it, too, and shifted their gaze skyward, but there was nothing there. The sky remained black, free of any signs of approaching aircraft. All he saw were stars.
“There!” someone yelled, and he fired his rifle into the night sky.
Kendig saw the ink-stain silhouette against the stars just a second before the sky started returning fire. Muzzle flashes strobed like angry fireflies as the helicopter swooped to the ground with startling speed, and then, after only a second or two on the ground, swooped back into the sky.
Five seconds later, it happened again. The night roared with the sound of rotors and gunshots as the second chopper touched down and took off.
Now, though, the gunfire was louder. Black-clad killers moved out there among them, rending devastation.
Soldiers of the Army of God did their best to shoot, but no one knew for sure what the targets were, or where they were. Near Kendig, and all around him, people were dying in the darkness. He felt blood splash his face as one of the soldiers closest to him fell across the Barrett, rendering it momentarily useless.
Kendig looked to his left, to where Brother Absalom should be crouched with the other Barrett, but the young man had literally been blown in half at his navel.
Panic of the most malignant kind spread like floodwaters through a field, and in mere moments, the Army of God had been reduced to a fleeing mob. They pushed and jostled Kendig, who wasted precious seconds trying to reorganize them into something resembling a fighting force, but in the darkness and the confusion, that moment had passed.
With no one left to lead, he joined his fleeing troops.
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE
Back in the sanctuary, Jonathan and his team had taken a position on the floor at the base of the stage that held the altar. They sat back-to-back in a circle around the Nasbes, weapons pointed out to address any threat that might materialize.
Jonathan could see nothing useful from their position, but the sounds told him everything. The crescendo of fire as the MH6 Little Bird choppers flared to land, and then the roar of the rotors as they took off two seconds later. In his mind, he could visualize Unit operators peeling off of the outboard benches to do what they did best.
The shooting peaked over the course of fifteen or twenty seconds, and then the shooting turned to the sounds of panic that always indicated the beginning of the end. The shooting slowed to singles, and then it stopped completely.
Jonathan’s earbud popped. “Scorpion, Romeo Foxtrot Six. LZ is secure. Advise when you’re ready for exfil.”
This was too much. Could it really be this easy? He pressed his mike button. “Exfil in one.” He stood, and along with Boxers and Gail, extended assisting hands to the Nasbes to help them rise.
Ryan looked terrible. The cumulative effect of fear and exhaustion—and maybe blood loss—had turned his skin gray. His mom looked confused and terrified. “What now?” she said.
Jonathan loved this part. “It’s over. You’re going home.”
Mother and son exchanged glances that betrayed their skepticism.
“Really,” Gail said. Outside, the night filled again with the sound of an approaching chopper.
Despite the presence of friendlies, Jonathan and his team kept the Nasbes in the middle of a protective wedge as he walked quickly without running to the front doors. He threw the giant latch and pushed the heavy doors open—just a crack at first, as he double-checked against some kind of trap, and then all the way to allow everyone to pass.
Colonel Rollins met him just outside the door, where strewn bodies lay untouched and blood appeared black on the concrete. “I told you we monitor everything,” he said, answering Jonathan’s unasked question.
Actually, it answered only one; but the others could wait until the PCs were secure.
The Little Bird sat on the ground, its rotors cutting a windy disk in the frigid night. Jonathan counted eight black-clad operators surrounding the chopper, their weapons directed at every compass point. Rollins led the way to the tiny door in the chopper’s side. He pulled it open and gestured for the PCs to enter.
Christyne looked stunned. Hesitant.
“It’s all right,” Rollins shouted over the roar of the engine. “With Boomer’s compliments.”
Ryan perked up at the name. “Dad’s here?”
Rollins shook his head. “No, but you’ll see him soon.”
“Where?”
Rollins shot a look to Gail. “Soon,” he said. “Time to climb aboard.”
Gail understood the hesitation to mean that she wasn’t cleared to know their final destination.
As Ryan scrambled aboard, Christyne looked first at Boxers, and then to the rest of the team. “Thank you,” she said. She reached out for Big Guy, offering him a hug.
Entering rare territory for him, he allowed it to happen.
“You’re very strong, you know,” Christyne said.
Jonathan realized that he’d never seen Boxers blush before. At least not like that.
As she pushed away, Rollins put a hand at her back to urge her into the Little Bird. No one was safe until they were airborne.
Christyne braced herself against the door and turned one last time. “God bless you all,” she said.
The instant she was clear of the door, Rollins slammed it closed, and the chopper was airborne, leaving them all to look away and close their eyes against the rotor wash.
Rollins said something into his radio that Jonathan couldn’t hear, but soon the infil choppers were returning for exfil.
“What’s next?” Jonathan asked the colonel as the birds got louder.
“I guess we all go home,” Rollins said. “Mission accomplished.”
Jonathan made a broad gesture with both arms. “What about all this?”
“All what?” Rollins said. “I don’t see a thing. I couldn’t. We’ve been on a training mission a hundred miles from here.”
“We could use your help,” Jonathan said. “These assholes dispatched execution teams across the country. We need to find out who and where.”
Rollins shook his head. “Negative. We had one mission, and we accomplished it. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Jonathan felt a pang of embarrassment. “Appreciate the help.”
The colonel shrugged as if it was nothing. The night started churning again as two more choppers dropped from the sky and flared to land. Rollins offered his hand, and Jonathan took it. “And we appreciate the loyalty. Sorry I can’t offer you a ride. We’re loaded to the max. I’ll have a hell of a time explaining the hours and the fuel consumption as it is.”
Translation: Roleplay Rollins had stuck out his neck as far as it would go.
“No problem,” Jonathan said. “I’ve got a ride.”
Rollins looked relieved. “Good luck, Digger.”
The Little Birds were airborne again within seconds of landing. Then Jonathan and his team were alone again with the dead and the wounded.
“One-way asshole,” Boxers growled. He shouldered his weapon and started scanning for targets. “This is a bad place to be, Boss. There’s still a lot of people and weapons unaccounted for. I vote we start hiking.”
“What about these people?” Gail asked. “They’re wounded. Suffering. We can’t just leave them.”
“Watch me,” Boxers said. He started moving away, ever vigilant.
Jonathan shouldered his weapon and followed.
“No!” Gail said. Her voice was firm, insistent. In different circumstances, petulant. “Look at what we’ve done. We can’t just leave it this way.”
Something snapped in Jonathan. He let his weapon fall against its sling, and he turned on her. “We cannot stay,” he said. He felt blood pounding in his ears. “We didn’t start this fight, we finished it. Everything that flows afterward is someone else’s problem. We’ve got a long hike out of here, and I’m not endangering the team.” Without NVGs to mask them, her eyes showed hurt and anger. “This is not negotiable,” he said. “Now move.”
“What about the ongoing threat?” Gail countered. “What about all the innocents who will die? Don’t we owe the whole friggin’ world a little intel gathering?”
“The whole friggin’ world is pursuing their own leads. They chose
not
to pursue these. I’ll make a call to Wolverine when we’re back in the world. She can do with the information what she wants.”
not
to pursue these. I’ll make a call to Wolverine when we’re back in the world. She can do with the information what she wants.”
“You’re going to tell her about this carnage?”
“Of course not. I won’t have to. If I tell her to take a peek up here, I believe she’ll put two and two together.”
“And meanwhile, terrorist teams are free to roam, spreading random violence.”
Jonathan took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Dammit, Gail, our mission was to save one family. It’s done. Successful beyond any imagined outcome. Let’s call it a day and leave saving the world to Batman and the Justice League.”
“But we—”
“
Now
, Gail.” He waited until she settled her hand on her weapon and moved to join Boxers.
Now
, Gail.” He waited until she settled her hand on her weapon and moved to join Boxers.
The final look that she flashed at him before moving was one he hoped he’d never see again.
They moved through the night with combat stealth, staying in the cover of the woods. Weapons ever at the ready, they spread out, keeping twenty paces between them, with Boxers in the lead and Gail in the middle, due to the lack of night vision. They moved with agonizing slowness as they lifted their feet and brought them down in silence.
Five times in the first hour, Boxers signaled for the tiny column to stop and take a knee as movement in the trees raised an alarm. Twice it was a woodland creature of some sort, and once it was just nothing at all, but twice, Jonathan was pretty sure that it was Army of God Klansmen continuing their flight.
Without ever actually discussing it, Jonathan’s team had tacitly agreed not to engage anyone who didn’t engage them first. Jonathan found it counterinstinctive and a wide departure from any reasonable order of battle; but this opfor was so disorganized and traumatized that to do further damage just seemed cruel.
Jonathan considered walking back to Michael Copley’s mansion and stealing a car to drive back to their command post, but the net gain didn’t seem worth the net risk. All of those people who scattered into the night would be looking to regroup somewhere, and the leader’s mansion would be as good a rallying point as any. It made no sense to unnecessarily engage anyone at this point.
So, they kept walking.
By five-thirty in the morning, they were on the edge of a familiar clearing. The sun was just turning the eastern sky orange when Sam Shockley’s farm came into view.
Boxers stopped at the edge of the clearing and motioned for the others to join him. “I think we should move around this,” Big Guy said. “I don’t like wide open spaces.”
“What, you think they’ve set up an ambush?” Jonathan asked. Hearing the words stated aloud made them sound ridiculous.
“Can you think of a better place?”
“That assumes a lot of advance notice,” Jonathan said. “Even we didn’t know we were coming here until forty minutes ago.”
“It’s on the straight line between where we were and where we’re going.”
Gail asked, “How would they know where we’re going?”
Boxers made that growling sound that signified frustration. “I’m just sayin’,” he said. “It’s not a big leap if they track the truck we left back there.”
Jonathan thought it through. He was as much about managing risk as the next guy, but it would add an hour to their trek if they skirted this huge plot of land, and there’d still be a lot of day left to be managed.
“She’s good people,” Jonathan said. “Her husband’s on deployment, she lives there all by herself with her daughter. If there are bad guys in there, it’ll be against her wishes. So I figure we owe her a security check.”
Boxers gave him an impatient glare. “You know, Dig, sometimes I think you spend nights awake just thinkin’ up more creative ways to get me killed.” That was Boxers-speak for
Whatever you say
. He rose.
Whatever you say
. He rose.
Jonathan rose with him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “But just in case I’m wrong, I’ll go first. You and Gunslinger stay here.”
“I want a new name,” Gail said again. “And we’re not staying anywhere. What is that, a hundred yards out in the open?”
Jonathan eyeballed the distance. “Maybe a hundred fifty. But she knows me. I think she trusts me. They don’t know anything about you two.”
“How do you want to handle it?” Boxers asked.
“I’m going to go to the front door and knock,” he said. “I’m going to check to see if Sam’s okay, and I’m going to give her a heads-up about her truck. When I get to the door, I’ll give you the word to advance.”
“Unless there are Army of God crazies in there and they cut you down before you get halfway,” Gail said.
Jonathan considered it a good sign that she was still worried about him. He said, “If there are bad guys in the house waiting—which is a huge, steaming pile of
if
—then they’ll know that I’m with others. If they see me approaching alone, they’ll hold their fire so as not to draw more from you two.”
if
—then they’ll know that I’m with others. If they see me approaching alone, they’ll hold their fire so as not to draw more from you two.”
Boxers put his hands on his hips. “You know that’s utter bullshit, right?”
Jonathan beamed. “I thought it sounded good, though.” He started toward the clearing. “Wait for my command.”
He closed the distance casually, as before, not wanting to draw unnecessary suspicion. Of course, unlike the last time he approached the farmhouse, he looked far less like a lost hunter than a trained gunman.
He allowed the muzzle of his M4 to point harmlessly toward the ground, while his gloved hand remained on the grip, his finger close to the trigger guard. He kept his eyes planted on the windows of the little house, and on the corners, where snipers might lie in wait. He took comfort in the knowledge that Boxers and Gail would both be watching with digital magnification. If something looked bad, they would tell him. In fact, there was a better than average chance that they would shoot whatever looked bad.
A hundred fifty yards goes by fast at twenty-two hundred feet per second.
When Jonathan closed to within the last twenty yards, he became concerned that no one had yet appeared in the windows or on the porch. His only experience with the Shockley family to date was that they were early risers, and very attentive to their surroundings.
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