Read The Camel Club Online

Authors: David Baldacci

Tags: #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers, #FIC000000

The Camel Club (44 page)

CHAPTER
67

S
TONE AND
R
EUBEN REACHED
the lower level of the facility at about the same time as Alex and Simpson.

“So that makes nine Chinese dead,” Alex said after the two groups had compared notes.

“Actually, they’re North Koreans,” Stone corrected.

“North Koreans! What the hell are they doing involved in this?” Simpson asked.

Stone said, “I have no idea.” He pointed with his gun down the hallway. “But I
do
know that down there are the cells that were used to house ‘detainees’ for interrogation during my time here. Presumably, that’s where the president is.”

Alex checked his watch. “We’ve got three hours left,” he said urgently. “We’ve got to get the president, get out of here, grab a cell signal and call the Service. They’ll contact the White House and stop the launch.”

“Do you think there are any North Koreans left?” Simpson asked.

Alex said, “I saw two guys running past me when I was stuck in that tank. So—” He suddenly shouted, “Look out! Grenade!”

They scattered for cover as the object bounced down the stairs and landed near them. However, it wasn’t a grenade. It was a flash-bang, a device that stunned a person by using ear-piercing sound and blinding light. Members of the FBI’s hostage rescue team swore by its effectiveness. And it did its job this time. When it went off, all of them were instantly incapacitated.

Two North Koreans raced down the steps. They wore earplugs and so were unaffected by the sound of the explosion. They pointed their weapons at the helpless Alex and the others. Stone struggled to get to his feet, but he was so disoriented he couldn’t manage it. Simpson’s hands were over her ears, and she looked ready to pass out. Reuben lay crouched in the corner, clutching his side and breathing weakly.

One of the North Koreans shouted one word, in English this time. “Die!”

He moved his MP-5 shot selector to auto, and his hand slid to the trigger. He could empty his entire thirty-round mag in a few seconds.

And he would have too, if he’d still been alive. His spine snapped when the foot struck it from behind. He dropped to the floor. As he fell, his finger pushed back the trigger, and the machine gun emptied a few rounds right into the concrete floor. They ricocheted into the man, not that he felt them.

The other man tried to fire his gun at Hemingway, but Hemingway ripped the mag right off the stock, then crushed it against the man’s skull and finished him off with a vector strike to the liver, rupturing it. The man dropped to the floor with a thud.

Then Hemingway was gone.

As the effects of the flash-bang wore off, Alex struggled to his feet and helped Simpson up. Stone did the same with Reuben.

“Where did Hemingway go?” Stone asked.

Alex pointed down the hall. “That way. Through that door. I saw him right before he disappeared. I’m not sure how, because my head was exploding at the same time.”

They took a moment to eye the battered North Koreans.

“This guy is a freaking nightmare,” Alex exclaimed.

“He just saved our lives,” Simpson pointed out.

“Oh, yeah? Probably because he wants to kill us all by himself,” Alex shot back. “So what I told you still goes. Shoot to kill the bastard.”

Stone looked at his watch. “We’re running out of time.”

Hemingway stood alone at the end of the hall, the two cells holding the president and Chastity behind him. The prisoners were unconscious after he’d given them amnesic drugs with their dinner earlier. He didn’t believe they’d want to have any memory of what had happened to them.

As the door opened at the other end of the hall, Hemingway receded into the shadows.

Alex stepped through the doorway with the others and called out, “Hemingway, we’ve come for the president.”

Hemingway made not a sound.

“You might not know what’s happened, Tom,” Alex added. “The Sharia Group claimed responsibility for the kidnapping. Right this instant the United States has a nuke aimed at Damascus. It’s going to launch in less than three hours unless the president is returned safely. That’s what Reinke and Peters were probably coming to tell you.”

Hemingway drew a quick breath but still said nothing.

“Tom, I’m being straight with you,” Alex continued. “The whole world is about to go up in flames. Every Muslim army and every terrorist organization in the world is gathering to attack the United States. We’re at DEFCON 1, Tom. DEFCON 1. You know what that means. Everything’s ready to blow.” Alex paused and then shouted, “We’ve got three hours, goddamn it, or six million people die!”

Finally, Hemingway stepped into the light.

“Why would the Sharia Group have claimed responsibility?” he asked warily.

“They didn’t, so I did it for them,” Captain Jack said as he darted through the doorway and pressed his gun against the side of Simpson’s head. He took her pistol and trained it on the others. “Now, drop your weapons, or you’ll get a nice view of this lady’s brains.”

The others hesitated for a moment, and then one by one Alex, Stone and the wounded Reuben dropped their guns.

“Damn, that’s the guy we heard earlier,” Reuben muttered to Stone, but his friend wasn’t listening. He was looking very intently at Captain Jack.

As Captain Jack’s gaze swept over them, it stopped and came back to Stone. Captain Jack’s brow creased. Then his attention was drawn to Hemingway, who said, “I thought we had an agreement.”

To Alex, Hemingway seemed coiled so tightly he looked as though he could have jumped clear into outer space.

“We did, Tom,” Captain Jack said pleasantly. “But then I got a better offer from the North Koreans. I told you I was only in this for the money. That was fair warning to you, mate, and don’t blame me if you didn’t pick up on it.”

Hemingway said, “Why? To start an American-Muslim war? What does that gain for North Korea?”

“I really don’t care. They paid my price.”

Alex said, “We’re going to drop a nuclear bomb on Damascus.”

Captain Jack looked at him disdainfully. “I worked for the Syrians for a while. They’re just as bloodthirsty as anyone else. It’s not like they don’t deserve it.”

“Six million people,” Alex said. “Including women and children.”

Captain Jack just shook his head wearily. “You’re really not getting my point, are you?”

“You’ve got dead North Koreans all over the place,” Hemingway said. “Do you really think your plan will work now?”

“I’ll have time to clean that all up, Tom. There’s an old mine shaft not too far from here. Perfect place to dump the bodies. Except for one. The world needs to see that one.”

“Brennan?”

“Have to finish the job.”

Stone spoke up. “So you’re intending on killing all of us?”

Captain Jack looked at him. “You seem very familiar to me.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I plan to kill each of you.” He glanced at Hemingway. “I did right by you, Tom. Look at what happened in Brennan. Worked to perfection.”

“It doesn’t work if the president ends up dead too,” Hemingway said flatly. “I’m supposed to return him unharmed. That’s what I said I was going to do.”

“If it’s money you want, the U.S. has a lot more than North Korea,” Simpson said.

Captain Jack shook his head. “Even I’m not that greedy. And I seriously doubt I’d get paid. I mean you are the biggest debtor country in the world.”

Captain Jack shot Hemingway with a glancing wound to the left leg. The man grimaced and dropped to his knees. Next Captain Jack shot him in the right arm.

“Stop, please!” Simpson screamed.

Captain Jack said, “I’m sorry to do this piecemeal, Tom, but I have no desire to have my neck crushed by you.”

Hemingway said between gritted teeth, “You might want to reconsider your plan.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the cell doors are booby-trapped.”

“Then turn the devices off and open the doors.”

Hemingway shook his head.

“Then I’ll just start killing them one by one until you do.”

“You’re going to kill them anyway, so what does it matter?” Hemingway said.

“We’ll just see how long you can take the screams. Your only weakness is you’re just too damn civilized, Tom.”

Stone managed to catch Hemingway’s gaze and motioned with his eyes to something. Hemingway gave a barely perceptible nod.

Captain Jack pressed the gun tightly against Simpson’s temple and said, “Good-bye, whoever you are.”

“My name is John Carr,” Stone said quietly as he stepped forward. “You were right, we
do
know each other.”

Captain Jack lowered his pistol slightly. “John Carr,” he said in amazement as he looked Stone up and down. “My God, John, the years haven’t been kind to you.”

“You were a bastard traitor back then, and I see you still are.”

“I went out on my terms. I don’t think you can say the same,” Captain Jack sneered. His attention was fully on Stone now, so he didn’t notice Hemingway edging toward the wall.

Stone took another step forward, blocking Captain Jack’s line of sight to Hemingway. “Why don’t you kill
me
? You were always second best, so it’d be a thrill for you to take out the top man, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re still one cocky bastard,” Captain Jack growled.

“Unlike you, I earned the right to be. How did you screw up again? Oh, that’s right, you used the wrong barometric reading and you missed your target. They had to send me in a year later to do it right. Face it, you were a second-rate bungler.”

Captain Jack pointed his pistol at Stone’s forehead. “I won’t have to worry about barometric pressure this time.”

Hemingway leaped and hit the light switch, plunging them into darkness. Captain Jack fired. There were screams and shouts and scuffling and finally one horrific cry and then the sound of a body falling.

The lights came back on, and Captain Jack was lying on the floor, his guns gone. Stone was standing over him, holding a knife covered in blood, fabric and skin. He’d taken it from the room of truth.

“You bastard!” Captain Jack groaned as he grabbed his lower calves where Stone had cut him, immobilizing the man.

Captain Jack screamed, “Why didn’t you just kill me?”

“Because I didn’t have to,” Stone answered.

“Listen to me,” Captain Jack gasped. “Ten million dollars to
each
of you if you kill Brennan.” They all looked at him in disgust. “He’s just a man,” he screamed.

“If you don’t shut up,” Alex snapped, “
I’ll
kill
you
.”

Hemingway managed to lever himself up against the wall. “You have to take President Brennan and leave him at a certain spot, to finish this the right way.”

Alex looked at him in disbelief. “I don’t know what the hell your crazy motivations are, and I don’t care. You’ve left the entire world on the brink of war. So the only thing I’m doing is taking the president back where he belongs. And on the way we’re going to make a call and stop six million people from being incinerated because of what you did.” He pointed his gun at Hemingway. “Now you either open the cell door or I’ll kill you.”

Hemingway struggled to his feet. “I’m not a traitor to my country, no matter what you or anyone else might think. I did this
for
my country. I did this for my
world
.”

“Open the damn door!” Alex yelled. “Now!”

Hemingway took out a set of keys and unlocked one of the doors.

“I thought you said it was booby-trapped,” Captain Jack snarled.

“I lied,” Hemingway said.

Stone and Alex carried the unconscious president out and sat him up against a wall. They found Chastity and placed her on the floor next to him.

Alex pulled out his cell phone. “Damn it, I forgot there’s no signal in here, so we need to get out of here to call Washington and—”

A man’s voice interrupted. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

They all turned and stared at Carter Gray and six men holding machine guns.

CHAPTER
68

“T
HANK
G
OD,”
S
IMPSON SAID,
stepping toward her godfather. However, Gray turned his attention to Hemingway.

“The president was in the chopper that you flew me home in, wasn’t he?” Gray clearly didn’t expect an answer, and Hemingway didn’t provide one. “You corrupted
my
files, assembled an army of dead men and kidnapped the president.” Gray shook his head.

“The president’s fine, Carter,” Simpson said. “He’s just drugged.”

Gray said, “Very good. Well, we’ll take over from here.” He motioned two of his men to go get the president.

“Wait!” Hemingway shouted. “He needs to be returned the way I planned! You can’t let all those people in Pennsylvania die in vain. They sacrificed themselves for a better world.”

Gray’s face screwed up. “You are insane!” He calmed and turned to Stone.

“Hello, John. I can’t tell you what a shock it’s been finding out you’re alive,” Gray continued. He glanced over at Captain Jack lying on the floor still clutching his bloodied legs. “Two old friends I believed to be dead. Resurrection seems to be a theme of the twenty-first century.”

“I wasn’t ready to die on your timetable, Carter,” Stone said.

Simpson looked between the two men. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Alex interjected. “Look, people, we’re running out of time. We have to notify the White House that we have the president back. They’ll stop the launch.”

Gray ignored this and said, “Jackie, I want you to step over here with me.”

“What?” she said. “Didn’t you hear Alex? We have to stop the launch.”

“When you and I leave here together, you are never to speak of anything you’ve seen or heard tonight. Do you understand?”

Simpson looked at the others. “I’m sure you can trust all of us not to reveal anything that would damage the country.”

“I’m not worried about the others, Jackie, just you.”

Stone looked at the woman. “You’re the only one leaving here alive, Agent Simpson.” He glanced at Gray. “And I believe that includes the president.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Simpson shouted. She looked at her godfather for reassurance, but the truth of what Stone had just said was instantly revealed in Gray’s features. She pointed at the unconscious Brennan. “This is the president of the United States!”

Gray said, “I’m aware of that. And there’s a man in the Oval Office right now who’s
equally
capable of running the country, which, unfortunately, isn’t saying much.”

Simpson stared at the men with Gray. “He’s going to kill the president. You have to stop him!”

“These men are all loyal only to me, otherwise they wouldn’t be here,” Gray answered.

She said pleadingly, “Six million people are going to die if we don’t make the call to the White House, Carter.”

“Six million
Syrians,
” Gray countered. “Do you know how many terrorist activities dear old Syria supports? And they’re the clearinghouse for virtually all the suicide bombers going into Iraq. We should have nuked the damn country years ago.”

Simpson looked at her godfather. “You’re insane.”

“This is bigger than any one man, Jackie,” Gray replied very calmly. “This is strictly a war of good versus evil, and we have to ensure that those two sides remain clearly defined. And to do so, sacrifices have to be made, for the good of all. Even the president is not above that. And to accomplish that the world has to believe that his kidnappers have killed him.” He paused and added, “I’m sure your father would have no problem with any of this.”

“Bullshit!” Simpson roared. “He’d be the first one to throw you in jail.”

“Step over here with me, Jackie,” Gray said with urgency. “Do it now.”

Simpson didn’t budge. “No. You’re going to just have to kill me too.”

“Please don’t force me to make that decision.”

Alex suddenly screamed out, “Gun!” He threw himself toward Brennan. But someone else was a little quicker.

The shot rang out, as people seemed to be moving in slow motion. There were screams and scuffling feet and the sound of metal hitting the floor. And then there was silence.

Jackie Simpson dropped first to her knees and then fell facedown on the cold cement floor. The bullet that would have hit Brennan was now embedded inside her heart. Gray screamed and stood over Captain Jack, who’d pulled a small pistol from his ankle holster and fired at the president. Yet Simpson had denied him his kill.

Alex knelt down and checked her pulse and then looked up and shook his head.

“Jackie!” Gray cried out as he looked at his dead goddaughter.

“Beth,” a stunned Oliver Stone whispered as he stared down at the woman.

Alex, who’d been the only one close enough to hear, looked at Stone.
Beth?

Gray pointed his gun at Captain Jack, but Stone’s voice boomed out. “If you shoot him, you have no connection to the North Koreans’ plot to kill the president.”

Gray’s finger remained on the trigger, but he didn’t pull it.

Stone was visibly trembling and his eyes were tearing up as he said, “We’re going to take the president to Medina. To the place Mr. Hemingway tells us to.”

“That is
not
an option,” Gray barked.

“It is your
only
option, Carter,” Stone replied. “You can’t let millions of innocent people die for no reason.”

He whirled on Stone. “Innocent! Those devils took my family from me!” Gray shouted. “They took everything I ever cared about.”

“And
my
country did the same to me,” Stone answered.

Gray and Stone stared at each other while everyone looked on. Then Stone’s gaze went to Simpson’s body. “Just like you, I’ve now lost everything.” His voice trembled.

Gray’s gaze went from Simpson to Stone. “I can’t possibly take the president to Medina. There isn’t enough time.”

“I believe the Medina Mr. Hemingway has in mind is far closer,” Stone replied.

They all looked at Hemingway. “Do you have the chopper?” Hemingway asked Gray, who nodded. “Then you can make
my
Medina in less than two hours, well within the deadline.”

“If I agree why can’t I just call from the chopper and tell them I found him in whatever Medina you’re talking about?” Gray rejoined.

“Unless you actually go to the place, you won’t be able to answer all the questions about where he was found. The press and the country will want to know,” Hemingway answered. “In great detail.”

Stone looked at Gray. “You can even take credit for finding the president, Carter. You’ll be a national hero.”

“How exactly do I do that?” Gray retorted.

“You’re a smart man, you’ll figure it out on the chopper ride,” Stone replied.

Gray snapped, “This man stays with me.” He pointed at Captain Jack.

“I’m sure you’ll be successful in getting every last morsel of information from him,” Stone said confidently.

“And Hemingway too,” Gray added.

“Let’s go!” Alex barked.

As the others were heading out, Stone knelt down next to Simpson as Gray looked on. Stone touched the woman’s hair and then put her still-warm hand in his. He turned the hand over and looked at the crescent scar on the palm. It appeared remarkably the same as it had when she cut her hand all those years ago. He saw the scar when he picked up her change on the street that day. Tears slid down his cheeks. They were the tears of his nightmare, of losing his daughter in a dream. And now for real, which was immeasurably worse. He kissed her on the cheek.

Stone looked up at Gray, who just stood there, hands dangling uselessly at his sides. “You
will
make sure that her body is returned for proper burial,” Stone said firmly. Gray nodded dully. Then Stone walked past the man without another word.

Outside, they followed Gray’s men to a nearby clearing where the chopper sat.

The pilot leaned out. “Where are we headed?”

“To Medina,” Hemingway called out.

“What?” the pilot exclaimed.

“The address is in my shirt pocket,” Hemingway said.

One of the guards pulled out the piece of paper and read it. He shot Hemingway a glance. Stone had read the paper over the man’s shoulder. He’d been right.

Hemingway settled into his seat in the rear of the chopper. A split second later he head-butted the guard closest to him, shattering the man’s nose and right cheek. Then Hemingway kicked the seat in front of him with such force that it tore loose from its base and the guard sitting in it was thrown forward. In another instant Hemingway was running, wounded leg and all, toward the woods.

Alex raced after Hemingway as fast he could while tree limbs, bushes and vines ripped at him. The guy had been shot in the damn leg, and Alex couldn’t catch him? He heard a shout ahead and he increased his pace. He broke free of the trees and skidded to a stop just before he would have plummeted over the side. He was standing on the edge of a long fall. He couldn’t see what was at the bottom, but as he stood there listening, Alex thought he heard a splash. As other guards raced up to join him, he pointed down into the abyss and shook his head.

Tom Hemingway was gone.

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