Waterkill (Dave Henson Series) (24 page)

“West end is neutralized,” came Gomez’s voice over their ear pieces.

“What about Ames and Davis?” asked Jones.

“Ames is dead, but Davis is with us,” responded Cook. “We are headed up the west stairwell towards the second floor.”

“Copied,” said Jones. “We’re on the second and making our way in your direction. So far no sign of Zarin or Cogswell.”

As Dave and Jones approached the next door on their left Dave smelled an odd odor. It wasn’t the familiar nitroglycerin smell associated with their rifle fire, but instead an odor that smelt of burning textile, a fabric of some sort. Dave spoke, “I think the house is on fire. Can you smell it?”

“Yes. I think something is on fire, but I think it is coming from behind this door,” said Jones, the pungent smell increasing in intensity as they came up to the closed door. 

“You’re right,” said Dave as the two sat hunched low beside the door.

Jones reached up with his left hand and gently tested the doorknob. It turned freely. “Alright, are you ready?” said Jones.

“Let’s do it,” responded Dave.

Jones stood up, pushed the door open and slipped into the room in one continuous movement. Again, he went in high and left and Dave followed low and right. As with the others, the room and the connecting bathroom were empty. However, the room was filled with smoke. Both men scanned the room quickly looking for the source of the smoke. No fire was present.

Jones saw something odd lying on the floor in the center of the room. He walked over to it cautiously. It was a cluster of bunched up towels. He kicked them to one side. As he did he noticed that they were sopping wet. While Jones stared down at them and contemplated why they were wet, Dave was looking over at a bed. It was unmade.

“Jones, take a look at this,” said Dave.

Jones looked up from the floor and in the direction of the bed.

“Someone was lying in this bed not long ago,” said Dave.

Jones immediately looked around the room again to see if they missed someone or something in the room.  Dave knelt down beside the bed and checked underneath it with the 9mm in his hand. The room was empty, but Dave could sense that Dana had been there recently.

“Let’s keep moving,” said Jones.

Jones walked out of the room, however, Dave hesitated a moment as he scanned the room one last time looking for any sign of Dana’s presence. There was nothing. Fear suddenly gripped him as he realized Zarin had probably pulled her from the room just minutes before they got to it. Again, something small flew by his head, but it was gone before he had the chance to identify what it was.

A thunderous boom occurred from below as Dave stepped back into the hallway. The rumble of the building was so intense that he was almost knocked off his feet again. Instantly he dropped down into a crouched position and looked for Jones. He was a meter ahead of him, also crouched down, and looking back at Dave. “Stewart,” was all that Jones said before turning his head and moving forward again. 

As they continued their way down the long dark hallway sporadic rifle fire occurred below. From the muffled sounds it was coming from the basement. At least Stewart was still alive thought Dave, but he wondered for how much longer. The gun fire was intense at times.

Gomez, Davis, and Cook came around the corner into Jones and Dave’s field of view. They had finally made their way up the west stairwell and through the hostiles, all of which were now dead.

“Your team still healthy?” asked Jones.

“Yes, with the exception of Ames,” replied Gomez tersely.

Jones nodded his head once in acknowledgement.  “Okay, Zarin’s suite is just up ahead of us,” said Jones as he pointed to a set of closed double doors ten meters ahead of them.

Between them and the master suite double doors, the hallway expanded outwards into a large open area just beyond the west-end staircase. A railing sat to the right, looking down into an open area to the first floor below. 

“We should fan out,” said Cook. “Why don’t Gomez and I approach the suite directly, while you and Dave go off to the right, near the railing? Have Davis hang back in a defensive position, or for back up if one of us goes down.”

“Roger that,” said Jones, “but let’s move before that bastard either escapes or kills himself and Cogswell.”

Gomez and Cook half bent over scurried forward. When they were within a few meters of the master suite doors, Jones and Dave advanced forward and shifted to the right, out of the line of any potential fire that could emanate from the master suite. Similarly, Davis shifted his body down and to the left of where he had been standing so that he too was out of the direct line of fire.

Dave took a quick glance back towards Davis. As he did, he saw a massive silhouette of a man advancing up behind him. The man must have been hiding in one of the bedrooms they had already inspected he guessed. Dave also could see that the man held a large knife in his right hand. Davis must not be able to hear his approach over the blare of the alarms thought Dave. Dave immediately swung his right arm around in the direction of Davis, holding the 9mm pistol firmly in his hand, and fired three quick and successive rounds into the chest of the silhouette.  Davis caught Dave’s sudden movement out of the corner of his eye just as the man behind him began to lunge towards him. However, instead of the sharp point of a knife stabbing into his back, Davis felt the heavy dead weight of a man fall on top of him. Davis quickly extracted himself out from underneath the man’s body and discharged two rounds from his M4 into the man’s head. He then gave a quick wave of thanks to Dave before dropping back into position.

Dave looked back in the direction of the master bedroom suite after confirming Davis was safe. Gomez was pulling a grenade from his belt. He immediately yanked the pin from it and rolled it towards the heavy wooden doors. As he did, Dave, Jones, and Davis all dropped to the floor to take cover, while Gomez and Cook simultaneously slid into a recessed alcove in the hallway to shield themselves from the blast. The two men turned their heads and faces away from the direction of the master suite doors just as there was a bright flash followed by an explosion.  After a couple of seconds all of the team members looked back in the direction of the master suite. Both doors had been blown inwards and off their hinges, and were lying splintered on the floor of the room.

Gomez and Cook did not wait for the dust to settle. Both entered the room fast, guns extended. It turned out the space was a vestibule that twisted sharply to the left and led to the main area of the bedroom suite. As they entered the vestibule they immediately took fire on their left. Both men were hit multiple times and immediately went down before the sound of weapon fire ceased.

Davis, Jones and Dave saw their team members go down and quickly moved towards the master suite entrance to attempt to recover them. As they neared the entrance they could see that Gomez and Cook were still alive, but in tough shape.

“Give me cover Davis,” yelled Jones as he crawled into the entrance way and reached for the back of Gomez’s flak jacket.

              Standing, Davis leaned his body into the vestibule area and started firing wildly with his M4, in the direction of where the attack had come from. As he did, Jones grabbed onto Gomez’s flak jacket and yanked him out of the vestibule area.

The two repeated the process for Cook while Dave bent down over Gomez to assess his injuries and vital signs. Gomez had been hit in the legs, arm, and chest, but fortunately the bullets had missed his head and the flak jacket had absorbed the bullets to his chest.

              “You’re going to make it,” said Dave to Gomez.

              Dave looked over at Cook who Jones had just dragged back from the bedroom doorway. Cook had been hit in the face and throat, amongst several other places, and had already bled out. He was dead.

              After pulling Cook back out of the doorway, Jones returned to Davis’s side. For a brief moment all weapons had ceased firing, but the smoke alarms continued to blare.

              “What’s our situation?” asked Jones.

              “I count three hostiles returning fire,” said Davis. “They appear to be wild shots.”

              “I don’t want to kill or injure Cogswell,” said Jones. “I’m going to toss a stun grenade into the far end of the vestibule area when we draw those bastards out again. I want you to fire another several rounds into the vestibule area and then pull back. After your fourth round I will roll the grenade in. Hopefully if I time this right, those sons of bitches will just about step on it when they go to return your fire. On my mark. Three, two, one, fire.”

              Davis shot four rounds in a smooth repetitive order. Rat-tat-tat-tat. He then leaned back out of the line of fire just as Jones rolled the grenade in. Two seconds later, in the middle of returning fire, a concussion explosion went off. Jones and Davis immediately rushed into the vestibule after the explosion. Three men were laying semiconscious on the floor at the far end of the vestibule. Jones shot two of them dead, while Davis did the other.

              Jones, Davis, and Dave stepped over the three bodies and made their way further into the bedroom suite. Just as they entered the massive room a voice yelled out over the din of the smoke alarms, “Don’t come one step closer or she’s dead.”

              Dave froze at what he saw standing in front of him. Though it was dark, a night light from the adjoining en suite spilled just enough lumens into the bedroom area for Dave to make out a man holding Dana. He was standing semi-crouched down behind her and holding his left arm around her neck tightly. It was his right hand, however, that caused Dave to freeze. The man’s right hand held a side arm to Dana’s head.

              “Step the hell back or she’s dead,” yelled Aref.

              “Just give us Ms. Cogswell and we will leave,” said Jones. “That’s all we came for.”             

              “You lie,” said Aref viciously. “Henson may have come only for his wife, but the rest of you are here for something more.”

              “That’s not true,” yelled Jones over the sound of the bleating smoke alarms. “Let her go and we will walk away.”

              “You came here for me,” snapped back Aref. “You filthy Americans came for me. To take me out. Before I did something in your heartland.”

              Dana suddenly tried to free herself from Aref’s grip by twisting her body sharply. However, Aref maintained his arm tightly around her neck while he kept his eyes locked on the three men and the pistol pointed at her head.

After preventing further movement from Dana he said, “But you are too late. The clock has already started ticking and you can’t stop it.” 

Dave came up beside Jones to speak. “Aref, we already know about your plans,” lied Dave. “And we have already stopped them. We saw Spencer leave here tonight and he was captured, along with the canisters of bioweapon material that he was carrying.”

Again Dave lied, but Jones looked at him for a second, as if Dave knew something he didn’t. Which he hadn’t, until he saw the look on Aref’s face. Even in the dim light, Dave could see he hit a raw nerve.

“You lie,” yelled Aref. “You may know of Ahmad, however you know nothing about our plans. Plans that are in motion and that cannot be stopped.”

“Even if you have additional plans beyond Spencer, it doesn’t matter,” said Dave. “We already have a way to counter your terrorist weapon. To neutralize it and make it inert.”

“Impossible,” hissed Aref. “There is no defense for Waterkill. There will soon be no Big D in America,” he laughed tauntingly.

Suddenly Dave saw a flicker of movement behind Aref and Dana as Aref taunted them.

In the Escalade Graves glided his finger effortlessly over the tablet computer screen, the micro-drone responding to his every move. On the screen, Graves began to see the back of Zarin’s neck come into view. Slowly he guided the drone forward. Holding his breath he brought the drone to within a millimeter of touching the man’s neck. Graves saw the glitter of something just as his index finger tapped the kill radial button on the screen.

Above the clamor of the smoke alarms, Dave, Jones and Davis unexpectedly heard a loud crack. As they did, Aref’s body instantly collapsed on itself behind Dana, blood spurting from his neck in all directions, the gun falling from his hand.

“Yahtzee,” yelled Graves to himself in the Escalade.

It took a second for Dave to realize what had happened, but he quickly put two and two together. The flash of movement had been the micro-drone, and the cracking noise was the sound of the C4 pellet it carried exploding just behind Aref. The detonation must have severed Aref’s spinal cord instantly.

Dana ran to Dave’s open arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tears brought on by the overwhelming sense of relief and by the horror she had just witnessed. As they embraced, Jones and Davis walked over to Zarin, and again Jones fired three shots into Zarin’s head to make sure he wasn’t going to get up.

“Collect every file, paper, computer, thumb drive and memory disk in this room,” barked Jones to Davis and Dave. “We need to get out of here fast.”

Jones pulled out of his jacket several large heavy duty plastic bags. “Put the evidence in these.”

Davis grabbed a bag from Jones and immediately moved over to a secretary desk sitting across from the master bed and began to rifle through it. As he did all of the smoke detector alarms in the house went silent. Davis looked over at Jones.