Orchid Beach

CHAPTER

59

Harry Crisp jumped out of his seat. “There’s five!” he yelled. “We’ve secured all the main objectives, now let’s get over to that clubhouse.” He grabbed a handheld radio, and he and his command people sprinted for their cars.

Holly’s van pulled out of the village. They drove along the perimeter of the golf course.

“Pull over,” Holly commanded. “We go from here on foot.” She got out of the van, put Daisy on a short leash and closed the door quietly. “Now listen,” she said to her men. “This wasn’t part of the plan, so we’re going to have to wing it. Our job is to take out any security people outside the building without alerting anybody inside.” She divided her group into two teams. “Bill, your team goes counter-clockwise, and watch out for the front door; there could be extra men there. Gag anybody you detain. The rest of you will come with me, clockwise. We’ll meet on the opposite side of the building. I think the kitchen door is over there, and when we get the order to move in, we’ll go through the kitchen. Expect armed resistance at all times. When we get inside, there are going to be more people than we have cuffs or ties for. Cuff the staff first, then the male guests. Cuff the women only if we have ties left. Now, go!”

Holly started up the driveway to the clubhouse at a trot, Daisy moving easily beside her, her men following. Keeping to her right, moving silently through the grass, she came to the pro shop entrance. A man was standing at the door, fumbling with a set of keys. She let him lock it, then she pulled her baton and struck him sharply across the back of the neck with it. He emitted a small grunt and collapsed. One of her men used a plastic tie to secure his hands behind him, gagged him, then they went on their way. They made it nearly to the other end of the building before Holly saw someone else, and he saw her at the same time. She raised her silenced pistol and hissed, “Freeze!” His hand went under his jacket, and she fired once. He flew backward, his pistol striking the side of the clubhouse.

Holly ran up to him. His eyes were open, staring, and his breath was rattling from his body. After a moment, he was still. “First time,” she whispered to herself. “No need to tie or gag him,” she said. She ran on, the tempo of the booming music keeping time with her feet.

She came to the rear corner of the clubhouse and peeked around the corner. Two men in white cooks’ clothing stood beside some garbage cans, smoking, twenty yards from the kitchen door. She dropped Daisy’s leash, stepped out from behind the building and held the pistol out before her. “Freeze!” she commanded. Her men stepped out, their weapons ready. The two men looked at them: one threw his hands into the air; the other bolted for the kitchen door.

“Daisy!” She pointed at the running man. “Stop and guard!” Daisy took off as if fired from a cannon. Six feet from the kitchen door she sank her teeth into a running leg, dumping the man onto the ground. Then she stood over him, snarling quietly. The man did not move a muscle.

Holly secured the other cook, then went to the man lying on the ground.

“That dog bit me!” the man complained.

“Shut up, or I’ll let her tear your head off!” Holly whispered. She tied and gagged him. When she looked up, the remainder of the team appeared, dragging three men, all tied and gagged.

“All clear,” one of them said.

Holly picked up the radio. “Team four, objective accomplished. At the kitchen door, awaiting further instructions.”

The music was louder than ever. Holly thanked God for it.

Harry heard Holly’s transmissions. “All teams move to clubhouse. Cover all entrances and exits. Wait for my order before entering.” He turned to Jackson. “How much longer before we’re there?”

“Maybe thirty seconds,” Jackson said. “Look, there’s the main gate.”

The van turned in, and, following his map, the driver headed for the country club.

“There it is,” Jackson said, pointing. “All lit up.”

“Jackson, you’re to stay in this van, do you hear me?” Harry commanded. “You’re unarmed, unofficial, and that armor isn’t enough to protect you. Don’t you get out unless I say so!”

“All right, all right,” Jackson said.

Holly stood at the kitchen door and peeked inside. A dozen cooks and dishwashers were working like beavers inside. She held her radio to her ear.

“Team four,” Harry said. “Take the kitchen, but go no farther. Confirm your objective.”

“Let’s go,” Holly said. She and her team ran into the kitchen, weapons up. Nobody said a word. The cooks and their helpers stood like statues. Suddenly a door swung open, and a uniformed waiter strode in, sweating, carrying a tray of dirty plates.

Holly swung her pistol toward him. “Freeze! Armed man!” she said. An agent stepped forward and yanked the man’s gun from under his arm. “Everybody lie down on the floor,” she commanded, “and maybe you won’t get shot.” She pointed at the door to the dining room. “You two men, over there. Take anybody who comes in.” She raised her radio to her ear and listened. Other teams were reporting that they were in position.

Harry Crisp’s voice rang out. “All teams! Go, Go, Go!”

“Daisy!” Holly yelled, pointing around the room. “Guard!” She looked at the men on the floor. “Anybody moves, the dog will kill him!” She turned to the rest of her team. “All right, let’s go!” As one man, they rushed the dining room door, Holly out front.

A wave of incredibly loud music struck them as they burst into the large room. Holly ran for the bandstand, knocking a guitarist out of the way, and grabbed the microphone. The music trailed off. She could see men in black pouring into the room through every door. “Everybody stand still! Nobody move! Police and FBI! You are all under arrest.” She gazed out over the elegantly dressed, completely astonished crowd, the men in tuxedoes, the women in long, glittering dresses. Then all hell broke loose.

Everybody ran in all directions, trying to get out of the building. Tables were knocked over; people fought with FBI agents; waiters pulled guns; agents shot waiters.

Harry Crisp burst through the main dining room door, appalled at what he saw. “You!” he said to a man standing beside him holding a Mac 10 machine gun. “Take the suppressor off that thing.”

The man did as he was told.

“Now fire a clip into the ceiling!”

The man pointed the weapon up and pulled the trigger. Forty-five-caliber rounds sprayed the ceiling, and the noise was incredible in the enclosed room. Ceiling tiles and glass fell onto the panicked crowd.

Holly yelled into the microphone again. “On the floor! Everybody lie down on the floor!” This time it worked. People—men and women alike—dropped like slain cattle, shielding their heads from falling debris. Only FBI men were left standing.

Hurd Wallace stepped up onto the stage beside Holly. “I guess we’ve got them all,” he said.

“Do you see Barney Noble?” she asked.

“No, and I’ve been looking for him.”

“Then we haven’t got them.”

Harry Crisp stepped up onto the stage and grabbed the microphone from Holly, but she cupped her hand over it.

“Harry, Barney isn’t here; I’m taking my team and going to his house.”

“Go,” Harry said, then he addressed his supine audience. “I am Special Agent Harry Crisp of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. You are all under arrest. You will form a line at the rear of the room and give your names and your passports to the agents who ask for them. Do it now!!!” he yelled.

An agent ran up to the stage. “Holly, your dog won’t let us into the kitchen.”

Holly ran for the kitchen.

Holly and her team were back in the van. “Take your next right,” she said, consulting her map. “It’s the first house on the left. Switch off your lights now, and don’t turn into the driveway.”

The driver did as he was told. The van glided to a halt on the street, a few yards from the driveway.

Holly looked at the house. It was handsomely designed, but not large; no lights were burning. “Everybody out of the van, but don’t slam any doors,” she said. “I think Barney might still be asleep, and I don’t want to wake him until we’re ready.” She led the group up the driveway. Near the front door she stopped them. “There may be an easy way to do this,” she said, taking off her helmet and body armor and slipping out of the FBI jumpsuit.

“What the hell are you doing?” an agent asked.

“I’m going to ring the doorbell,” she said. “If Barney’s in bed, he’ll come down to answer it, and a familiar face will be standing outside.” She took off her gun belt and dropped it, then, with the Beretta in her hand, she went up the front walk, gesturing to the others to take positions out of sight. She looked through a glass side panel into the house, but the interior was dark. She rang the doorbell and stood, the pistol behind her, and waited for Barney Noble to walk into her hands.

Ham walked around the com center, looking into offices. “We got it clean,” he said to his men. “Let’s check out downstairs.” He ran down the steps, went to the end of the corridor and turned the corner. Before him sat the large steel door with its security features. “I wonder what’s behind that,” he said.

“Whatever it is,” an agent replied, “it’s what we came for. I hope to Christ it’s illegal.”

Harry Crisp’s car arrived at the airfield. Four FBI vehicles were parked on the runway, and agents surrounded the tower. Harry got out of his car and approached them. “How did it go?” he asked.

“Only one man in the tower,” the agent said. “We took it clean.”

“Are there any aircraft here that could take off?”

“A dozen or so, but there are no pilots here.”

“Put their man back in the tower, under guard, and get those vans off the runway. If any aircraft wants to land, let it, and detain everybody aboard. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” the man said.

Harry got back into his car. “Let’s go see the com center,” he said. “Have we heard anything from the gun emplacements?”

“We got a report while you were out of the car,” an agent said. “Everything is secure.”

Harry turned to Jackson. “I guess you can get out of that armor,” he said. “You look pretty silly in it.”

Holly rang the doorbell again. No one came. She turned to the nearest agent, flattened against the side of the house. “I guess we’re going to have to go in,” she said.

“Not until you get back into that gear,” the man said, pointing at the jumpsuit and heap of armor. Holly got back into it and stood away from the door. Two men with a ram tore the jamb off with a single thrust, and the group flooded into the house, flashlights and guns out in front of them.

“Daisy, stay with me,” Holly said, then headed upstairs, followed by two men. She stopped at every corner, gun at the ready, safety off. A moment later she was in the master bedroom. Suddenly the bedside lamp came on.

“Power’s back,” somebody called from downstairs.

The bed had been slept in, but the room was empty. “Search the house,” Holly said.

Two minutes later, an agent entered the bedroom, pushing a beautiful young woman ahead of him. She was wearing a lacy negligee.

“Where’s Barney Noble?” Holly demanded.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He left when the lights went out the second time. He told me to stay here. When I heard you break down the door, I hid in the guest room.”

“He may have gotten out of the house, but he won’t get out of Palmetto Gardens,” an agent pointed out.

Holly picked up her radio. “Marina,” she said. “This is Holly.”

“Marina,” a voice replied.

“Is your location secured?”

“Roger. We were a couple of minutes late, but it’s secured.”

Holly picked up her map and looked. “Jesus, we’re less than a hundred yards from the marina. Barney’s gone.”

“What now?” an agent asked.

“You guys can join the house searches,” she said, “but first, drop me off at the com center. I want to see that.”

On the way, Holly took out her cell phone and called her station.

“Orchid Beach Police Department,” a woman’s voice said.

“It’s Chief Barker. I want a statewide APB on one Barney Noble, white male, late fifties, six-one, two hundred pounds, short, gray hair, armed and dangerous. The charge is murder of a police officer.”

“Got it, Chief.”

“And call the coast guard and ask them to stop anything moving on the river. Check every boat for Noble.”

“I’m on it.”

Holly broke the connection. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Barney Noble was gone, and the chances of catching him were growing slimmer by the minute.

Harry Crisp toured the entire com center building, once the lights had come back on, and he finished up at the huge steel door. “Anybody got an opinion on how to deal with that?”

Bill stood next to him and examined the door. “We could blow it, but God knows what it would do to the computer equipment in the building. I think what we need here is a first-rate criminal.”

“Everything here is electronic,” Harry said. “The keypad and the palm reader. Get a couple of our electronics people in here and see if they can jump-start that thing.”

Holly got out of the van at the com center, and it drove away. Teams of agents were conducting a house-to-house search, armed with warrants, and the agents in her group went off to join them. She met Harry Crisp on his way out the door.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Perfectly. But there’s a steel door in there that we’ve got to deal with before we can find out what’s downstairs. I’ve got two men on it, and I’ll have a report soon.”

“Where’s Ham?”

“He’s around here somewhere. He and his group did brilliantly. I don’t know what we’d have done without him.”

Jackson stepped up. “Did you arrest Barney Noble?”

Holly shook her head. “He got out, probably by way of the marina.”

“Shit,” Jackson said.

A man came out of the com center. “Harry,” he said, “the steel door is open. It was a piece of cake.”

Harry rushed back inside, followed closely by Holly and Jackson. The door was, indeed, open. A stairway led down from it.

“Let me clear the area, first, Harry,” a man called out. Two men with automatic weapons went down the well-lighted stairs. “Okay,” one of them called out, “all clear.”

Harry and his entourage walked down the stairs and emerged into a large room containing only a desk and a huge steel door.

Holly’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit,” she said under her breath.

“What the hell is that?” Harry asked.

Jackson spoke up. “Looks like a bank vault, Harry.”

“I know that, but what the hell is it doing down here?”

“Looks like these people don’t want you to know what’s behind it,” Jackson said. “Looks like there’s a time lock, too,” he said, pointing, “set for nine A.M. Even with the combination, you wouldn’t get it open until then.”

“It’s a Friedrich,” an agent said. “German. I think they’ve got an office in New York. Maybe Miami, too.”

“Call them first thing in the morning and get an expert down here to open it,” Harry said. “Jesus, I hate waiting.”

Ham joined them and slipped an arm around Holly. “Wasn’t this fun?” he said.