She opened her mouth to scream and Sanderson clamped his hand over it. Felt the hot breath from her nostrils hit the back of his hand. “Shhh,” he hissed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She struggled to get away but he clamped down hard on her arm, holding her still on the floor. A quick glance around the room confirmed she was alone in the tiny one room hovel. Sanderson heard the heavy footfalls of running men in the hallway. He shushed her again, pleading with his eyes to keep quiet.
The girl stared at Sanderson with wide and terrified eyes. She was young, no older than seven or eight. Probably home alone while her parents, or more likely just her mom, was at work all day. He slowly removed his hand from her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered again. “What’s your name?”
“Sara,” she squeaked.
“Hey, that’s my wife’s name,” he smiled. “Hi Sara, my name is John. I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m being chased by bad guys.”
Pounding on one of the doors at the end of the hall.
“You saved my life by opening the door like that,” he said. She nodded. “Promise me you’ll be real still and quiet and I’ll be gone in just a second. Like I was never here. Do you promise?” Another nod.
He slowly got to his feet. Sara scrambled backwards against the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs, but she kept her promise and was quiet. John crept to the door and looked through the peephole. One of the operators appeared on the edge of the fisheye view, gun drawn, heading his way. He very carefully turned the deadbolt lock on the door and it made a click that seemed as loud as a gunshot.
Sanderson stepped aside, his gun held high, as a loud knock on the door shook the whole wall. He held his finger to his lips and slowly shook his head at Sara. She continued to stare and say nothing. There was only a single window in the room, covered in bars despite being on the second floor. The only other door led into the tiny bathroom. He was trapped.
More pounding of fists next door. He slid over to the peephole and saw one of them. He looked familiar but Sanderson couldn’t remember his name. One of the new guys that recently cycled in fresh from the academy. He could make out Viper’s muffled voice from the hall, demanding answers from one of Sara’s confused neighbors.
Sanderson steadied his breathing and pulled the slide back on his gun. He turned the lock the other way and put his hand on the knob. Checked the peephole one more time. The new guy had his back to him while his partner still harassed the neighbor. John took another breath and looked back at Sara.
“Like I was never here.”
He flung the door open, raised his gun, and fired.
Chapter 32
James Grayson was starting to feel uneasy and didn’t like it one bit. “Come on men, into the trucks.” He waved the last of the retirees forward. “No questions, just get in!” He watched as they crammed into the back of the trucks, filling the cargo areas to capacity. He checked his watch for the hundredth time. “Where in the hell are they?”
“You know we can’t wait much longer,” Joanna said.
Elias checked the display on the mobile phone detonator. “She’s right. Even without the nuke, this place will be swarming with reinforcements soon if they were able to get a mayday out.”
“And no doubt they did,” Grayson mumbled.
Elias cursed and stormed back to the entrance. All the weapons, planning, and equipment, and it hadn’t occurred to anybody to use some simple two-way radios. They managed to buy a nuke off the black market, but a couple of goddamn walkie-talkies were too much trouble. Something to remember for next time.
“Anything?” he asked the man watching the door and was answered with a grim head shake. Elias looked down the dark and smoky hallway as two people rounded the corner. He raised his rifle and immediately lowered it when he realized it was two of their own. One of the newer guys and Jack Porter, the team leader. Porter’s shirt was stained with blood and he walked with a limp.
Elias grabbed Jack by the other arm and helped him outside. “What happened? Where’s the rest of the team?”
“We got split up,” Jack said through clenched teeth. “Ambush outside of the boiler room. Lost four of our guys.”
“Shit.” The news hit Elias hard. Up until that moment the mission had gone without a hitch. No casualties. Suddenly learning four of their own were gone was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. “Wait, only four? What about Mike and the escaped guy? Hank?”
“I sent Mike with Hank to find his wife. They aren’t back yet?”
They approached the trucks and Grayson shook his head at the news. “It’s a damn shame, but we did our best.”
“Wait,” Joanna stepped forward. “We’re not going to leave them here are we?”
“No time,” Elias said. “Hank knew what he was getting into and finding his wife wasn’t the mission. He didn’t have to go in with the teams. We planted the bomb, got the footage, and saved all these guys.” He waved at the trucks. “That’s the mission.”
“That’s bullshit!” Joanna snapped. “If we leave without all our people then we’re no better than them.” She nodded at the group of soldier prisoners held at gunpoint.
“She’s right,” Grayson said quietly.
“James,” Elias started.
“Without Hank we never would’ve gotten this far. We owe it to him to make sure he’s out of there alive and if he ain’t, then a proper burial with honor. We’re wasting valuable time talking about it.” He nodded at Joanna. “Sounds to me like you’re volunteering to go back in.”
She nodded.
“Take Randy with you.”
“No,” Elias said. “I’ll go. I’ll be damned if I get shown up by a woman.” He winked at Joanna.
“We’ll wait as long as possible,” Grayson said.
Elias handed him the cell phone. “Ten minutes. If we’re not back by then get out of here and blow this place to hell. We’ll at least try to get out of the blast zone and catch up at the rendezvous, if it comes to that.”
Joanna and Elias checked their weapons as they ran back into the plant.
Chapter 33
In the split second it took before Sanderson’s weapon fired, he remembered. His call sign was Buzzard. It was Buzzard with his back to him, Buzzard that took the bullet in the back. Buzzard who died before he hit the floor. Sanderson swung his gun at Viper but Viper was quicker. Damn, he was quick.
The round fired from Viper’s gun was so close, Sanderson could practically feel the heat from the bullet as it shot past his face at over eight hundred miles per hour. He lost his balance and slammed up against the wall, sliding to the floor and firing his gun the whole way.
Except he wasn’t. The slide was locked into the open position caused by the stuck shell casing from the cartridge that killed Buzzard. Jammed. Before he could try to clear the action, Viper had him dead to rights, his fully functioning 9mm pointed squarely at his chest.
He was going to die now. John didn’t feel particularly scared. The simple fact hung in front of him plain as day, as if somebody painted the words on a sign and held it before him.
You’re going to die now.
Viper glanced at Sanderson’s useless weapon and a smile crept over his face. “Well, ain’t that a bitch? Leave it on the floor and get up.”
Sanderson did as he was told. “Just do it.”
Viper shook his head. “You know it won’t be that easy, Razorback. Or I suppose it should be Sanderson, now. I’m taking you in, Johnny-boy. You’ll be dead soon enough, but not until after we get you in the chair and have you spill your guts. In more ways than one.”
The door behind Viper that he’d been banging on just seconds earlier opened. A man’s face appeared in the doorway. Without hesitation, Viper swung his gun in the resident’s direction and pulled the trigger without taking his eyes off Sanderson. The man’s face exploded to mush and his body crumpled to the floor as the door swung wide open. A woman in the room beyond started screaming at the carnage.
“Your fault, Sanderson.” Viper said. “You’re the one that ran in here and put these people in danger. The whole floor just turned tier one. Maybe even the whole building.”
The man’s wife crouched over her husband’s body in the doorway, wailing at the top of her lungs. Viper pointed his gun at her.
“Stop!” Sanderson held up his hands. “Leave them alone. It’s me you want, you sick fuck.”
“Just following protocol, John. Something you were never all that good at.” Viper’s gaze moved to the left of Sanderson and his grin widened. John turned around to see little Sara standing in the doorway, eyes wide with her thumb in her mouth. Viper clucked his tongue. “So that’s where you were hiding. What a shame. Aiding and abetting a known felon at such a young age.” He pointed his gun at the girl.
John lunged at him, clearing the distance in one leap. Sara screamed. Viper could’ve gotten off a shot, but Sanderson believed he really wanted to take him in alive, just to get the chance for a long and painful interrogation. Viper hesitated with his trigger finger to Sanderson’s advantage. Both men wrestled for the gun in Viper’s hand. Sanderson received a blow to his stomach, another in the kidneys. He hooked his leg around Viper and pushed, resulting in both men crashing to the hallway floor.
The gun slipped out of Viper’s hand and Sanderson swatted it away out of reach. With his left hand on Viper’s throat, he connected with a right hook, splitting open his cheek. Viper managed to block the next blow and countered with his own punch, dead center in Sanderson’s nose, filling his vision with stars. John’s hands went to his face out of reflex and before he had the chance to make his next move, a brilliant and intense pain shot from his arm.
He fell back to the floor, staring at the handle of the knife sticking out of his upper arm. Dark red blood had already started to ooze through the shirtsleeve. He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming and tried to scramble backwards, knowing that his gun was somewhere down the hall behind him.
Viper got to his feet, breathing hard and grinning like a maniac. He touched his bleeding cheek and took a step toward Sanderson. Sanderson looked behind him, almost blacking out from the intense pain in his arm, and saw his gun six feet away. He tried crawling backward but it was no use. Viper towered over him, practically begging him with his eyes to go for the gun.
John flinched as a shot filled the hallway. Viper frowned and looked down as blood slowly soaked into the front of his orange t-shirt. A single gasp escaped his lips before he fell forward right on top of Sanderson. He pushed Viper’s body off him with his good arm to expose the woman from down the hall, no longer crying and holding Viper’s smoking gun in her shaking hands. She held it pointed at Sanderson’s chest.
Sanderson slowly held up his hands, locking his eyes with the woman. She finally lowered the gun and let it slip from her fingers. The woman slowly turned away without a word and went back to kneeling on the floor next to her dead husband.
Despite the ringing in his ears from the gunshots, Sanderson heard another noise, a tinny squeaking or scratching coming from close by. Viper’s ear piece had partially fallen out. John reached for it, ignoring Viper’s dead stare and held the receiver to his own ear.
“…iper. Come in. Reinforcements to your position, ETA five minutes. Do you copy? Viper!”
Sanderson dropped it and sat up. Sara still stood in the doorway, her thumb back in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I…I shouldn’t have come here.” The woman at the end of the hall turned to him. She’d stopped crying and stared at him with glazed eyes. John got to his feet, clutching his arm with the knife still sticking out.
“I’m sorry.” He stumbled down the hall and out the door on the other end of the building. He staggered out into the daylight, leaving the death behind him, knowing that more was on the way once the operators arrived. Razorback was no longer one of them, but another little girl would probably die, thanks to him.
Chapter 34
Hank fought to keep his eyes open. All he wanted to do was lie down next to his wife one last time, wrap his arms around her, and let unconsciousness take him. The side of his face throbbed, only matched by the steady pain from his leg. He placed his hand on the floor, trying to adjust his position and it came away wet. A pool of blood was forming beneath him. His blood.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. He knew the bomb could go off at any second and he fought to stay awake, fought to spend his last moments with Peg. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again and realized he’d been saying it over and over. “Hold on, baby.” He ran fingers through her hair. “It’ll be over soon and we won’t wake up somewhere else this time.”
So cold. He pulled Peg closer and closed his eyes, just for a second. When he forced them open again, he saw Lieutenant Hendricks standing over him.
Chapter 35
Sanderson returned to his tent in the pig pen, trying to convince himself they wouldn’t think to go back and look for him there. He knew it was bullshit, but he had nowhere else to go. Besides, a guy with a bloody arm would turn less heads in a homeless shanty town than out in the street.
Pulling the knife out was easier than expected but he did come close to losing consciousness thanks to the blood loss and pain as the blade pulled free. They hadn’t provisioned the tent with any first aid supplies so the best he could do was splash a little drinking water on the wound and hold a clean t-shirt on it to stop the bleeding.
He looked at his bag and was a little surprised the tent hadn’t been ransacked while they were gone. They hadn’t even zipped the door up. Perhaps the pig pen had a list of unwritten rules, the code of the homeless, that discouraged theft between the equally unfortunate. Not that there was anything worth stealing other than some clothes.
Sanderson still had his gun, a Glock G30S on loan from Grayson’s weapons cache, and three ten-round mags in his pocket. In his other pocket he had seventy dollars and change, with no chance of legally obtaining any more. He’d been lucky to withdraw what he could before his accounts were frozen, and any attempt now would just help the State track him down.