Threat warning

CHAPTER THIRTY – THREE

Back in the sanctuary, Jonathan and his team had taken a position on the floor at the base of the stage that held the altar. They sat back-to-back in a circle around the Nasbes, weapons pointed out to address any threat that might materialize.

Jonathan could see nothing useful from their position, but the sounds told him everything. The crescendo of fire as the MH6 Little Bird choppers flared to land, and then the roar of the rotors as they took off two seconds later. In his mind, he could visualize Unit operators peeling off of the outboard benches to do what they did best.

The shooting peaked over the course of fifteen or twenty seconds, and then the shooting turned to the sounds of panic that always indicated the beginning of the end. The shooting slowed to singles, and then it stopped completely.

Jonathan’s earbud popped. “Scorpion, Romeo Foxtrot Six. LZ is secure. Advise when you’re ready for exfil.”

This was too much. Could it really be this easy? He pressed his mike button. “Exfil in one.” He stood, and along with Boxers and Gail, extended assisting hands to the Nasbes to help them rise.

Ryan looked terrible. The cumulative effect of fear and exhaustion-and maybe blood loss-had turned his skin gray. His mom looked confused and terrified. “What now?” she said.

Jonathan loved this part. “It’s over. You’re going home.”

Mother and son exchanged glances that betrayed their skepticism.

“Really,” Gail said. Outside, the night filled again with the sound of an approaching chopper.

Despite the presence of friendlies, Jonathan and his team kept the Nasbes in the middle of a protective wedge as he walked quickly without running to the front doors. He threw the giant latch and pushed the heavy doors open-just a crack at first, as he double-checked against some kind of trap, and then all the way to allow everyone to pass.

Colonel Rollins met him just outside the door, where strewn bodies lay untouched and blood appeared black on the concrete. “I told you we monitor everything,” he said, answering Jonathan’s unasked question.

Actually, it answered only one; but the others could wait until the PCs were secure.

The Little Bird sat on the ground, its rotors cutting a windy disk in the frigid night. Jonathan counted eight black-clad operators surrounding the chopper, their weapons directed at every compass point. Rollins led the way to the tiny door in the chopper’s side. He pulled it open and gestured for the PCs to enter.

Christyne looked stunned. Hesitant.

“It’s all right,” Rollins shouted over the roar of the engine. “With Boomer’s compliments.”

Ryan perked up at the name. “Dad’s here?”

Rollins shook his head. “No, but you’ll see him soon.”

“Where?”

Rollins shot a look to Gail. “Soon,” he said. “Time to climb aboard.”

Gail understood the hesitation to mean that she wasn’t cleared to know their final destination.

As Ryan scrambled aboard, Christyne looked first at Boxers, and then to the rest of the team. “Thank you,” she said. She reached out for Big Guy, offering him a hug.

Entering rare territory for him, he allowed it to happen.

“You’re very strong, you know,” Christyne said.

Jonathan realized that he’d never seen Boxers blush before. At least not like that.

As she pushed away, Rollins put a hand at her back to urge her into the Little Bird. No one was safe until they were airborne.

Christyne braced herself against the door and turned one last time. “God bless you all,” she said.

The instant she was clear of the door, Rollins slammed it closed, and the chopper was airborne, leaving them all to look away and close their eyes against the rotor wash.

Rollins said something into his radio that Jonathan couldn’t hear, but soon the infil choppers were returning for exfil.

“What’s next?” Jonathan asked the colonel as the birds got louder.

“I guess we all go home,” Rollins said. “Mission accomplished.”

Jonathan made a broad gesture with both arms. “What about all this?”

“All what?” Rollins said. “I don’t see a thing. I couldn’t. We’ve been on a training mission a hundred miles from here.”

“We could use your help,” Jonathan said. “These assholes dispatched execution teams across the country. We need to find out who and where.”

Rollins shook his head. “Negative. We had one mission, and we accomplished it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Jonathan felt a pang of embarrassment. “Appreciate the help.”

The colonel shrugged as if it was nothing. The night started churning again as two more choppers dropped from the sky and flared to land. Rollins offered his hand, and Jonathan took it. “And we appreciate the loyalty. Sorry I can’t offer you a ride. We’re loaded to the max. I’ll have a hell of a time explaining the hours and the fuel consumption as it is.”

Translation: Roleplay Rollins had stuck out his neck as far as it would go.

“No problem,” Jonathan said. “I’ve got a ride.”

Rollins looked relieved. “Good luck, Digger.”

The Little Birds were airborne again within seconds of landing. Then Jonathan and his team were alone again with the dead and the wounded.

“One-way asshole,” Boxers growled. He shouldered his weapon and started scanning for targets. “This is a bad place to be, Boss. There’s still a lot of people and weapons unaccounted for. I vote we start hiking.”

“What about these people?” Gail asked. “They’re wounded. Suffering. We can’t just leave them.”

“Watch me,” Boxers said. He started moving away, ever vigilant.

Jonathan shouldered his weapon and followed.

“No!” Gail said. Her voice was firm, insistent. In different circumstances, petulant. “Look at what we’ve done. We can’t just leave it this way.”

Something snapped in Jonathan. He let his weapon fall against its sling, and he turned on her. “We cannot stay,” he said. He felt blood pounding in his ears. “We didn’t start this fight, we finished it. Everything that flows afterward is someone else’s problem. We’ve got a long hike out of here, and I’m not endangering the team.” Without NVGs to mask them, her eyes showed hurt and anger. “This is not negotiable,” he said. “Now move.”

“What about the ongoing threat?” Gail countered. “What about all the innocents who will die? Don’t we owe the whole friggin’ world a little intel gathering?”

“The whole friggin’ world is pursuing their own leads. They chose not to pursue these. I’ll make a call to Wolverine when we’re back in the world. She can do with the information what she wants.”

“You’re going to tell her about this carnage?”

“Of course not. I won’t have to. If I tell her to take a peek up here, I believe she’ll put two and two together.”

“And meanwhile, terrorist teams are free to roam, spreading random violence.”

Jonathan took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Dammit, Gail, our mission was to save one family. It’s done. Successful beyond any imagined outcome. Let’s call it a day and leave saving the world to Batman and the Justice League.”

“But we-”

“ Now, Gail.” He waited until she settled her hand on her weapon and moved to join Boxers.

The final look that she flashed at him before moving was one he hoped he’d never see again.

They moved through the night with combat stealth, staying in the cover of the woods. Weapons ever at the ready, they spread out, keeping twenty paces between them, with Boxers in the lead and Gail in the middle, due to the lack of night vision. They moved with agonizing slowness as they lifted their feet and brought them down in silence.

Five times in the first hour, Boxers signaled for the tiny column to stop and take a knee as movement in the trees raised an alarm. Twice it was a woodland creature of some sort, and once it was just nothing at all, but twice, Jonathan was pretty sure that it was Army of God Klansmen continuing their flight.

Without ever actually discussing it, Jonathan’s team had tacitly agreed not to engage anyone who didn’t engage them first. Jonathan found it counterinstinctive and a wide departure from any reasonable order of battle; but this opfor was so disorganized and traumatized that to do further damage just seemed cruel.

Jonathan considered walking back to Michael Copley’s mansion and stealing a car to drive back to their command post, but the net gain didn’t seem worth the net risk. All of those people who scattered into the night would be looking to regroup somewhere, and the leader’s mansion would be as good a rallying point as any. It made no sense to unnecessarily engage anyone at this point.

So, they kept walking.

By five-thirty in the morning, they were on the edge of a familiar clearing. The sun was just turning the eastern sky orange when Sam Shockley’s farm came into view.

Boxers stopped at the edge of the clearing and motioned for the others to join him. “I think we should move around this,” Big Guy said. “I don’t like wide open spaces.”

“What, you think they’ve set up an ambush?” Jonathan asked. Hearing the words stated aloud made them sound ridiculous.

“Can you think of a better place?”

“That assumes a lot of advance notice,” Jonathan said. “Even we didn’t know we were coming here until forty minutes ago.”

“It’s on the straight line between where we were and where we’re going.”

Gail asked, “How would they know where we’re going?”

Boxers made that growling sound that signified frustration. “I’m just sayin’,” he said. “It’s not a big leap if they track the truck we left back there.”

Jonathan thought it through. He was as much about managing risk as the next guy, but it would add an hour to their trek if they skirted this huge plot of land, and there’d still be a lot of day left to be managed.

“She’s good people,” Jonathan said. “Her husband’s on deployment, she lives there all by herself with her daughter. If there are bad guys in there, it’ll be against her wishes. So I figure we owe her a security check.”

Boxers gave him an impatient glare. “You know, Dig, sometimes I think you spend nights awake just thinkin’ up more creative ways to get me killed.” That was Boxers-speak for Whatever you say. He rose.

Jonathan rose with him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “But just in case I’m wrong, I’ll go first. You and Gunslinger stay here.”

“I want a new name,” Gail said again. “And we’re not staying anywhere. What is that, a hundred yards out in the open?”

Jonathan eyeballed the distance. “Maybe a hundred fifty. But she knows me. I think she trusts me. They don’t know anything about you two.”

“How do you want to handle it?” Boxers asked.

“I’m going to go to the front door and knock,” he said. “I’m going to check to see if Sam’s okay, and I’m going to give her a heads-up about her truck. When I get to the door, I’ll give you the word to advance.”

“Unless there are Army of God crazies in there and they cut you down before you get halfway,” Gail said.

Jonathan considered it a good sign that she was still worried about him. He said, “If there are bad guys in the house waiting-which is a huge, steaming pile of if -then they’ll know that I’m with others. If they see me approaching alone, they’ll hold their fire so as not to draw more from you two.”

Boxers put his hands on his hips. “You know that’s utter bullshit, right?”

Jonathan beamed. “I thought it sounded good, though.” He started toward the clearing. “Wait for my command.”

He closed the distance casually, as before, not wanting to draw unnecessary suspicion. Of course, unlike the last time he approached the farmhouse, he looked far less like a lost hunter than a trained gunman.

He allowed the muzzle of his M4 to point harmlessly toward the ground, while his gloved hand remained on the grip, his finger close to the trigger guard. He kept his eyes planted on the windows of the little house, and on the corners, where snipers might lie in wait. He took comfort in the knowledge that Boxers and Gail would both be watching with digital magnification. If something looked bad, they would tell him. In fact, there was a better than average chance that they would shoot whatever looked bad.

A hundred fifty yards goes by fast at twenty-two hundred feet per second.

When Jonathan closed to within the last twenty yards, he became concerned that no one had yet appeared in the windows or on the porch. His only experience with the Shockley family to date was that they were early risers, and very attentive to their surroundings.

So, where were they?

He pressed his transmit button. “I can’t tell you why, but I’m not liking this,” he said. “Advise the instant you see any movement anywhere.”

Jonathan climbed the three stairs to the front porch and walked to the door. He knocked.

No one answered, but scuffling sounds from the inside indicated that people were definitely at home. He radioed, “I hear people inside, but there’s no answer.”

He knocked again.

Jilly’s voice shouted, “Mama, can we be home yet?”

Jonathan smiled. The stealthy, secret-keeping child had yet to be invented. He heard footsteps, and then the sound of a chain being stripped from its track on the door. It opened a few inches, and there was a very nervous Sam Shockley. She tried to smile, but she wasn’t good enough at deception to get her eyes involved.

“Mr. Harris,” she said. “What a pleasure to see you.”

Bullshit. There was no reason for her to be anything but bothered to see him. She should be ragging his ass for coming by again at all after trying to steal her truck.

“Mrs. Shockley,” he said. “I came by to make sure-”

“We’ve got a runner out the back door!” Boxers shouted in his hear.

“Shit!” He spun and headed for the stairs. He pressed the transmit button. “Gunslinger, clear the house.”

“Don’t hurt her!” Sam yelled. “She doesn’t mean any harm!” She took off after him.

Jonathan cut to his left at the bottom of the steps and dashed around toward the back of the house. There he saw a woman in a plain woolen coat in a dead run across the scrubby harvested corn field.

“Target acquired,” Boxers said in his ear.

“You!” Jonathan yelled. “Stop or we will shoot!”

She started running faster.

Jonathan took off after her, and he knew without looking that Sam Shockley was close behind. In his peripheral vision, he saw Gail sprinting across the field toward the house to clear it of any lingering bad guys. He pressed his mike button. “Give the runner a wide lead, Big Guy. I want to stop her, not hurt her.”

Two, three-round bursts split the peace of the morning before Jonathan could even let up on his transmit button. Dirt kicked up in front of the fleeing girl, directly in her path. She slid to a stop, hesitated and started running again, prompting two more bursts from Boxers’ weapon.

“Next time we hit you!” Jonathan yelled.

The woman stopped again. As Jonathan closed the distance that separated them, his weapon at the ready, she made to run again.

This time, Jonathan fired the warning shots. From this distance, the muzzle blasts would be near-deafening, and as he’d hoped, that was all the convincing she needed. From the back, he wouldn’t have even known she was a she. Her hair had been cropped short, and she wore a stocking cap pulled low.

“Hands straight out to your sides,” Jonathan commanded. “Fingers splayed wide.”

Sam Shockley caught up with him and pulled on his vest. “Don’t hurt her,” she begged.

Jonathan pulled free and pointed his weapon inches from her nose. “Step back, Mrs. Shockley. Do not interfere.”

She blanched and took two steps back. Behind her, Boxers was lumbering across the field to join them.

Jonathan returned his aim to the woman who’d fled. She stood as if crucified, her hands perpendicular to her body, elbows locked. “Our intent is not to hurt anyone,” Jonathan said. “But if you make me, I will.” He paused while Boxers arrived. “Now turn around.”

His jaw dropped. It was her again: the one from the bridge and from the basement. All the toughness was gone now, entirely replaced by fear.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she said.

“Are you armed?”

“Please, I just want all of this to stop.”

“Listen to me,” Jonathan said. “Are you armed?”

She shook her head as her eyes brimmed with tears. “No, sir.”

“Big Guy?”

“I’ve got her covered,” he said.

Gail said, “House is clear.”

“Copy, the house is clear,” Jonathan said into the radio. He approached his captive. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Sis-” She stopped herself, and let out a little puff of breath as her head sagged. It was a look of resignation that could mean surrender or suicide bomb. He froze and watched her hands very carefully.

“Colleen,” she said. “Colleen Devlin.”

“Look at me, Colleen Devlin.”

Her eyes came up to meet his.

“This is your come-clean moment, understand? For all I know, you could be loaded with explosives. If you twitch, my friends will kill you. If you have weapons on you, this is absolutely your only chance to tell me without harm coming to you.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Sam said.

Jonathan’s hand shot up for silence.

“No bombs,” Colleen said. “No weapons.” She started to cry.

Looking back to make sure that both Sam and Colleen were covered by Boxers, Jonathan let his M4 fall against its sling and he frisked the young lady thoroughly. She in fact was unarmed. He zip-tied her hands behind her back.

He looked to Boxers and Big Guy broke his aim. “I think we need to go inside,” Jonathan said. “There’s a lot of explaining to be done.”