Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brannon was already on the move, even as the first bullets were fired. The realization that Ellers had turned on them came quickly to the others, and they spread out, desperately seeking cover. The few that headed toward the table were cut down after only a couple steps.
Working his way around, he drew closer to one of the armed men, then launched himself across the open space. After a throat punch, he claimed the man’s weapons as the assailant writhed on the ground, trying to breathe. When another turned to fire at him, Brannon dropped and rolled out of the way, bullets pelting the ground next to him. A round went into the side of the building near his ear, scattering splinters. When he found one of the attackers with his back exposed, a single shot to the head ended that threat. He collected the man’s weapon and moved on.
Some of the other men had always confiscated weapons and were fighting back. There were bodies were strewn across the parade now. A few of the braver souls pulled the wounded out of the line of fire, risking death to help their comrades.
Rafferty joined him, blood on the side of his face, and Brannon passed him one of the guns.
“I’m going to check on the women and kids,” Rafferty said breathlessly. “They aren’t armed.”
“Take some men with you. I’ll hold them as long as I can.”
With a nod, Rafferty sprinted in toward the rear of the compound, grabbing a couple men along the way. Brannon turned his attention to the killers, and continued his hunt.
*~*~*
At the first sounds of gunfire, Susan and Cait had headed toward the compound as fast as the terrain and mines would allow.
“Is this FBI?” Cait asked as they ran.
“No. They wouldn’t be that stupid.” But Susan dialed her office anyway. “We got a battle going on here. Please tell me it’s not us or some other federal agency.”
“Negative. We’re not onsite yet.”
“Then something has gone massively wrong,” she said, ending the call.
They were some distance from the compound when the north gate burst open and a woman ran toward them. She’d made it only a short distance before a man stepped into the opening and shot her in the back. She fell into the dirt, then tried to crawl away, hand over hand, even as her assailant continued to stalk her. Cait took the kill shot and the man went down.
As they hurried toward the gate, Susan knelt to check on the injured woman. But in that short space of time, the woman’s face had grown slack, her eyes staring at nothing.
“Dammit,” Susan murmured. “What is going on here?”
“How is she?” Cait called out.
She shook her head, rising to her feet. Just inside the gate was chaos, people running in all directions. Screams and gunshots filled the air.
“Ah, hell. How can we tell who’s the enemy, and who isn’t?” Susan asked.
“Welcome to the Middle East, my friend,” Cait said.
They edged inside the gate, trying to make sense of the battle. A man fired at another woman, one shielding a child in her arms. After Cait shot him, Susan claimed his gun.
A quick check proved that the guard who was usually in front of the jail was missing. “I’ll check on the others. You find Brannon.”
Cait nodded. “Watch your back.”
But Susan was already sprinting across the compound, fearing what she’d find inside that building. To her relief, she made it to the jail unscathed and threw the bolt, pulling open the door. “Preston?” she called out. Hopefully he’d have the good sense not to come outside. “It’s Susan.”
“Susan?” Patti called out.
“Stay inside! Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Preston said. Susan took a quick peek to ensure that was the case, then entered. Four confused pairs of eyes watched her every move. They hadn’t been idle; one of the bunks had been disassembled and each hostage held a piece of cypress bed slat for a weapon. The table had been overturned and was being used as a barricade, the commander’s notes spread all over the floor now.
“What the hell is going on?” Keith asked, rising. “Is it the FBI?”
“No,” she said. “Not yet.” Waving Preston forward, she handed over the spare weapon she’d confiscated. “I’ll guard the door. We don’t want them to lock you in.”
A scream reached her just as she stepped outside; Maudie and three other women were trapped against the side of one of the small huts with a handful of kids. One woman was frantically trying to dig a hole so they could escape under the fence. Coming closer to them was one of the armed men.
“John Lawson, why are you doing this?” Maudie asked, positioning herself in front of the others.
“It’s the commander’s plan, Maudie. Nothin’ personal.”
“Dead is damned personal, John. You can’t kill your neighbors.”
He raised his weapon, proving he had no problem with that issue.
“Hey!” Susan shouted. As he turned, she shot him, twice, watching as the blood bloomed on his chest. He took a few hesitant steps backward, as if his brain hadn’t quite processed the fact that he was dying. Then he collapsed.
“Come on, over here,” Susan beckoned. “Quickly.”
Maudie herded the frightened children toward her, and once they were inside the jail, Susan took up guard again. When Preston and Keith joined her, she gave them an encouraging nod.
“Brannon and Cait are still alive. Or at least, they were a while back. We’ll get through this,” she said.
“I should have just signed the damned divorce papers,” Keith grumbled.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Wife wanted a divorce. I wouldn’t give her one, thought maybe we could patch things up. If I had signed the papers, I’d be in Constantinople now. Instead I used that voucher for the tour just to buy time, and now I’m in just another damned war zone.”
“Yeah, except this one is on American soil.”
*~*~*
Cait’s progress had been difficult, and dangerous. Since almost no one knew her, that made her a target for all of them. To keep out of sight, she skirted around the backside of a building, crawling along in the mud, trying to keep from being snagged by the fencing and barbed wire. Eventually she reached a clear view of the flagpole—and what was a killing ground. There were at least ten casualties, most of whom weren’t moving.
Good God, what is Ellers doing?
When she saw Brannon alive and tracking tangos, Cait smiled in relief. As if someone had recognized that this was a mistake, a barrage of bullets came his way from the guard towers, pinning him in place. Edging away from the building, she sprinted for the nearest cover: a raised flower bed made out of cypress timbers. Belatedly, the guard in the right tower saw her and turned his sights in her direction. She actually felt the bullet whiz by her head and threw herself flat on the ground.
“About time, Marine,” Brannon called out. “Thought I was going to have to win this war all on my own.”
Cait snorted and resisted the temptation to flip him off. He pointed at her, then the right tower. She nodded her understanding. Ensuring that she was as unexposed as possible, she began firing on that location. The left tower’s guard immediately responded, slamming bullets into the cypress timbers.
Brannon lined up his shot, took a deep breath, let it out, and then fired the rifle. The sniper’s head exploded, and in near slow motion the body pitched over the side of the left tower and dropped to the ground. When the guard in the other tower reacted, shooting at him, Cait rose and dealt with him. She sent Brannon a thumbs-up and he matched it.
Only a few sporadic shots came now as the battle died down. He waited as she worked her way over to him, covering her as she did. Finally, Cait crouched next to him. Her clothes were muddy, but her eyes were bright.
“It’s good to see you’re in one piece.” He reached over, pulled her closer, and kissed her.
When it ended, she studied him for a moment, no doubt checking for injuries. “Good to see you, too.” Then she looked out at the carnage, the light in her eyes dimming. “What happened here?”
“Ellers went after his own. He made sure they were unarmed, then turned his killers loose.”
“Why?”
“Not sure yet.”
“All clear!” someone shouted. “All clear!”
Brannon cautiously stood, eyes moving across the open area. It was bad, but not as bad as he’d feared. One by one, people came out of hiding. It was then that someone noticed Cait.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded as guns turned in her direction. “You with the feds?”
“She’s with me,” Brannon said. “She was leading the swamp tour. She’s here to get her people.”
“Thought you said she was dead.”
“I said what it took to get inside this compound. You have a problem with that?”
The man gave a gruff shake of the head and slowly lowered his rifle.
Rafferty approached them now and his eyes held a haunted expression that Brannon knew all too well. He’d seen it countless times when he looked in a mirror.
“How’s your family?” he asked.
“Alive, thank God,” the man replied. “Not everyone was so lucky. I still can’t believe Ellers did this. What kind of goddamned madman is he?”
“The motivated kind,” Brannon said. “Most of them are.”
He handed Cait the rifle. “I’m going to make a run down to the water, see if he’s still there. If he is, I’ll be bringing him back.”
“Naw, he’ll be gone,” Rafferty said. “He gave his orders and bailed on us. Damned bastard.” He hesitated. “That other woman from the tour, the one named Susan. She’s contacting someone to get us help.”
“Good. She has . . . resources.”
The man lowered his voice. “I know she’s FBI. I found her badge in her backpack. I just didn’t tell Ellers that.”
Brannon patted the man’s shoulder. “That was a good call. She’ll make sure your people are well taken care of.”
“God, I hope so.”
Brannon headed out the front gates and down the path toward the water at a quick jog. In his wake he left the dead, the wounded, and the betrayed.
Cait watched him go, knowing that what he was doing was probably a futile gesture.
“Anyone with medical experience, front and center,” Rafferty called out. “Bring the wounded here, even if it’s minor!”
The men and women slowly complied, moving like dazed zombies, their world imploded by the man they’d trusted with their lives. The injured were carried to the front of the compound, laid out in two lines near the flagpole, their blood staining the ground beneath them. Cait, Rafferty, and a man who said he’d been an Army medic worked that line. Some wounds were minor; others were likely to be mortal given the compound’s remote location.
Women slowly reappeared from where they’d been hiding, bringing hot water for cleaning the wounds, bandages, and plenty of tears. Cait held the hand of a young man as he died, remembering a different place and a different young man who had lost his life in the sands of Afghanistan. She shut her eyes, fighting ears. Fighting a darkness that told her it wasn’t worth the struggle.
“Rest in peace,” she whispered, the weight pressing down on her again.
Now she understood why soldiers chose to remain in the battle. It wasn’t only a matter of supporting your team, but often it was the easiest way to let death to stake its claim. Let fate make the next move. In so many ways, she’d been waiting for that moment when the decision was no longer hers.
When it looked as if her first aid skills were no longer needed, Cait moved to the house’s front stairs. As if magically summoned, Brannon strode through the front gates. His annoyed expression told her their quarry was long gone. He took in the makeshift field hospital, then headed directly toward her.
“No luck?” she called out.
He shook his head. Pausing long enough to give her shoulder a squeeze, he moved on up the stairs and into the house. Cait followed him. Their first discovery was the body of a young man propped in the corner, head slumped.
“Poor kid,” Brannon said. “Probably didn’t want to be part of Ellers’s massacre.”
As he hunted around, Cait checked the desk but found only duty rosters, supply lists, other mundane items. Nothing to indicate Ellers’s plans.
“Found our phones,” Brannon said, removing them from the top of an old wooden cabinet. She claimed hers.
While he talked to someone from Veritas, she went back outside and found five voicemails waiting for her, all from Mike. Each one was increasingly worried, until the final one was primarily one swear word after another. She sent her friend a quick text to let him know she was alive, and that the FBI would be arriving to take them home soon. That his hunch had been too damned correct.
Brannon joined her, thumbing off his phone as she did hers. “The money is headed south.”
“Then we should be too.”
He looked away for a moment, then back. “Roger that. Let’s talk to Susan first. I want her to still have a job when this is over.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As the pair of them approached her, Susan read the expression on Brannon’s face: He was falling in love with Cait Landry. Might already be there. Whether that was good news or not, she didn’t know. If she couldn’t convince her superiors that Hardegree deserved a pass, he was bound for prison.
“Guys,” she said.
“Everyone okay?” Cait asked.
She meant the campers. “Yeah, they’re good. Two of the attackers survived. I’m about to question them. I don’t want to wait since they might not be alive for much longer.”
“They’re injured?” Brannon asked.
“No, but they will be if this crowd turns on them.”
He nodded his understanding. “Veritas says the money is headed south, probably accompanied by Ellers.”
“Okay, let’s find out where he’s going and what he’s got planned.”
It took some effort to push through the crowd that had encircled the two prisoners where they sat up against one of the buildings, the side of which was riddled with bullet holes. The mood was ugly, one step away from a lynch mob. Susan couldn’t blame them.
The prisoners were a mismatched pair. One of the men glared back at her, the other trembled in fear. She recognized the angry man—he’d been one of the two toting the carboy. Someone had said his name was Jason.
“You’ll need this,” Rafferty said, opening his palm. In it was the wallet that held her FBI badge and ID.
“Thank you,” she said. “I mean it. But why did you take the risk?”
“I think, deep down, I knew that Ellers didn’t care about us, that we were as expendable as anyone else. I wasn’t here when he killed that FBI agent, but when I found out he’d done it, I knew it was over.”
“I’m so sorry. I never saw this coming, or I’d have tried to stop it. How many are dead?”
“Eleven. Four more might not make it. Two of those are kids.”
“Good God,” she whispered.
As Susan turned toward the prisoners, she pulled on her “don’t jack with me” FBI face. She raised her voice so all could hear her. “So, what the hell was this all about?”
Jason spat at her. “Fuck off, bitch. I don’t owe you any answers.”
“Answer the woman, or we’ll be stringing you up in the courtyard,” Rafferty said.
“Always knew you were a pussy, Rafferty.”
“At least I don’t turn on my neighbors, unlike you.”
“Give him over!” someone in the crowd called out. “We’ll make him talk.”
“There you go, Jason,” Susan said. “You answer my questions, or I’ll hand you over to those folks. What’s it going to be?”
“Why the hell should I talk to you?”
She leaned down so he could see her better. “Because I’m the only one who will keep your ass alive.”
“You’re a fed,” he said.
When she didn’t deny it, his eyes widened, then gradually became cunning. “It was you! The FBI. They set this whole thing up.”
“Try again, Jason. Because that’s definitely a lie.”
He spat at her again. “You’re the one who’s lying.”
“Yeah, yeah. Same old bullshit,” she said. She shifted her attention to the other prisoner. “Okay, what about you? What’s your name?”
“R-r-rob.”
“You keep your mouth shut,” Jason warned.
Susan ignored him. “Rob, huh? Why were you killing these people?”
“I didn’t! I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“He’s right, he wasn’t part of it,” a woman said. “We found him tied up in one of the outbuildings.”
“Then why is he a prisoner?” Susan asked, confused.
“He was talking with the others this morning,” the woman replied. “We didn’t want to take any chances, just in case he had something planned.”
“Okay.” She turned back to Rob. “Why did these guys do this?”
Tears rolled down the man’s face. Now that Susan studied him, he didn’t look to be much over seventeen. “They s-s-shot her. Linny. She’s my girl and they shot her.” His eyes sought out Rafferty’s. “She’s d-d-dead, isn’t she?”
“No, she’s going to be okay as long as she gets treatment. The bullet didn’t do that much damage.”
Rob bowed his head. “Oh, thank God, thank God.”
There was increased murmuring behind them now.
“Help us, Rob,” Susan said softly, putting her hand on his arm. “Tell us what you know.”
“You shut the fuck up, kid! You tell them anything, and you’re a damned traitor.”
“Ignore him,” Susan urged. “Just go on.”
Rob blinked away the tears. “The c-c-commander told me to set up a couple video cameras. They’re probably still going if they haven’t run out of juice.”
“When did you start filming?”
“Right before ‘Reveille’ this morning.”
“Where are the cameras?” Brannon asked.
The young man had calmed considerably now, evidenced by less stuttering. “They’re on the front of Ellers’s house, up in the eaves, one on each side. I swear he never said anything about killing folks.”
“Of course he didn’t,” Brannon said.
“You bastard. You’re a traitor!” Jason growled.
In a single heartbeat, Brannon had the man’s neck hyperextended and a knife at his throat. “So what was the plan? Why’d you turn on your own people?” he demanded.
“The FBI—”
The knife pressed harder against the man’s windpipe, causing a trickle of blood to flow down his skin. “Can the bullshit. Tell us the truth!”
Jason slowly swallowed. “We were to kill everyone, make it look like the feds did it.”
Brannon released his hold, but didn’t sheath the knife. “Go on.”
“We were going to keep a couple of the women alive, then execute them when everyone else was dead. We got an FBI jacket. One of us was gonna wear it in the video when we did the women.”
“
That
was Ellers’s plan?” Susan said, stunned.
“Yeah. He thought it all out. We were going to have Rob edit it, get it all ready, make it look like someone had smuggled out the video.”
“How were you getting it to Ellers?”
“We were supposed to send it to him in an e-mail before we left the compound. Said we were supposed to break it into smaller chunks so it’d upload faster. Then he’d edit it and put it up on his YouTube channel. That way the whole world would know that the FBI is nothing but a bunch of fucking murderers.”
The irony was as thick as the humidity.
“What were you supposed to do with Rob after he sent the video?” Susan asked.
“Kill him. We were to make sure there were no survivors.”
“You mean like you?” Rafferty said.
Jason blinked. “No, we were supposed to go to the south camp, wait there until Ellers contacted us.”
“South, huh?” Susan said, looking over at Brannon now. He gave a single nod in agreement. “What’s at this camp?”
“It’s a cabin on one of the hammocks, a couple hours from here,” Rafferty explained. “Nothing fancy, just a place to hunker down if things got bad. We had supplies delivered there sometimes.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Jason cut in. “Our boat’s all loaded. Once we were done here, we’d take off.”
“What’s Ellers’s final target?” she asked.
The man shook his head. Apparently they’d reached Jason’s line in the sand, and Susan suspected that even the threat of the Ranger’s blade wouldn’t drag the truth out of him. Or the fool really didn’t know.
“For God’s sake, tell her,” Rafferty said. “We got enough dead bodies on our conscience as it is.”
“I’m no traitor. Ellers did right by me. I’m not going to rat him out.”
Susan’s mind returned to that damned carboy of water. It kept poking at her, like a splinter in her finger.
“That container you hauled out of the woods? Where did you get it?”
“You saw us?” Jason asked.
Obviously
. “Did you get it from the hut, the one with the drying racks?” Jason nodded. “You know what Ellers used that place for?”
“No, he said it was off limits. Kinda surprised me when he told us to go there this morning. It was a bitch getting past those mines.”
“What was in the container?”
“Water. Said to take it with us, not to use the well at the south camp, that it was contaminated.”
“Why not fill it at the cistern inside the compound?” Susan asked.
“He said it might let people know we were up to something.”
It was a lame answer, but this guy had bought it.
“There’s nothing wrong with the water at the camp,” Rafferty said, frowning. “I had some less than a week ago and it didn’t bother me.”
No witnesses
. It finally clicked.
Susan zeroed back in on the prisoner. “Someone was making ricin in that hut. You heard of it?”
“Ricin?” Jason said, his eyes widening now. “The poison?”
“I always wondered what James was doing out there,” Rafferty said.
She filed that information away for the future. “I’m willing to bet that if we tested that container, the water would be poisoned with that ricin. No witnesses, remember? That means you too.”
“But—” he began.
“You would have gotten to your little hideaway and then fallen sick. It can take days to die from that stuff, did you know that? It’s hellish agony.”
Brannon rose to his feet, sheathing his knife. “No survivors. Ellers was clearing the decks.”
For a second, Jason acted like he was going to argue with them, but instead his face turned crimson. “That son of a bitch! He would have killed us!”
Welcome to the crowd
.
“He lied to us! He said we had to show the world what the government was really like, that a few dead women and kids would make the rest of the patriots stand up and fight.”
“A few dead women and kids?” Rafferty shouted, lunging for him.
Brannon corralled the man. “Chill down. He’ll get his, don’t worry.”
Rafferty shook himself free. “He damned well better. Because if he doesn’t, I’ll kill him myself.” Angry voices came from behind them now, eager to settle scores.
The prisoner’s bravado vanished. “Ellers said you’d be martyrs. That after the video was shown, folks would know why he was striking his blow for freedom.”
“What’s his plan?” Susan asked.
“Don’t know. And I mean that. He never told us. All the commander said was that he was going to rain hell on Atlanta, and his name would never be forgotten.”
Susan groaned.
Atlanta
. Georgia’s state capitol was a target-rich environment for a lunatic anarchist. It was home to the Centers for Disease Control, the world’s busiest airport, the EPA, Homeland Security, and FBI, ATF, and IRS offices. So many places to hit. So many people to kill.
“How do you know about ricin, lady?” a man asked from the group around them. “Are you really a fed?”
Susan had wondered when that question was going to be asked. Did she dare risk it? A glance at Brannon indicated that he was as unsure as she was. With a sigh, one that she hoped wouldn’t be her last, Susan pulled her wallet out of her jeans, opened it, and then held it up so the group could see her badge and ID.
“I’m Special Agent Susan Driscoll from the Atlanta FBI office. I was on the swamp tour because I was checking into what Ellers was up to. I had
no
idea he planned to hurt you people. And I swear to God the government had nothing to do with this.”
“Like we can trust you,” someone called out. The mood began to shift again, and not in her favor. Brannon and Cait moved closer to her now.
Maudie pushed through the crowd, putting herself next to Susan. “Listen up! This woman saved my life and some of the children’s as well. I don’t care if she’s FBI. She did the right thing today. Which is a helluva lot more than Ellers ever did.”
The murmuring continued, but the anger began to subside.
“Your people coming here?” a voice called out.
“Yes,” Susan replied. “I called them as soon as the shooting stopped. They’re bringing in a medical team, boats, and a helicopter. That way we can evacuate the most seriously injured first, then move the rest of you. The wounded have priority, of course.”
“What will they do with us?” Maudie asked.
“As I see it, you’re as much victims of Ellers as the rest of us.”
“Are your bosses going to believe that?”
Hell no
. “Not sure, but I’ll do my best to get them to see your situation. The common enemy is the commander; that’s who we need to be focusing on. The more you folks can tell us, the more lives we can save. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll be considered accessories to whatever crimes he commits.”
Profound silence surrounded them now.
Susan gestured toward the prisoners. “Can you make sure nothing happens to these guys? Especially the asshole.”
“Yeah, I will,” Rafferty replied. “They’ll both be breathing when the feds arrive.”
Susan knew hard it been for him to say that. “Thank you. You saved lives today. That’s all that matters.”
“Some might not see it that way.”
As she walked away from the group, Brannon by her side, she realized that someone was missing. “Where’s Cait?”
“Looking for our rucksacks.” Brannon hesitated, then continued. “Ellers will know something’s up when that video doesn’t land in his inbox. He’ll go underground, pick another day, another target.”
“We certainly can’t release that video footage. That could set off any number of the patriot groups, and they’ll strike even before we know what they’re up to.”
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
“Isn’t that always the case?” she said.
Thank God it’s not my call
.
They’d reached the front of the compound now. She could feel eyes tracking her, knowing the word had been passed:
There’s a fed here. Can we trust her?
The satellite phone rang. “Driscoll.”
“It’s Wiseman. Two choppers are headed your way, along with boats. Should be there in a couple hours. We have park rangers on standby, if we need them. The fire is out, so they have people to spare.”
“Good. We got some serious casualties here. The bad news is that Ellers is long gone, headed for Atlanta. We need to issue the appropriate warnings, because we don’t know what his target is, but it’s definitely in the city.”
“Damn,” Wiseman grumbled. “Did you find Hardegree?”
She looked over at the Ranger. “Yeah, he’s here.”