Solemn Duty (1997) (23 page)

"Do you remember me, Sergeant Schwark?' Jean Paul asked.

.

10:02 P. M. Manassas, Virginia.

Robert Anderson was awakened by static coming from the speaker. He cringed, knowing a call was coming in. A second later he heard the computer-generated voice.

"Captain Anderson, Sergeant Schwark is resting now. He is finally at peace with himself for what he did. All of your team is resting now, Captain Anderson . . . all, but you. I'm coming, Captain Anderson . . . but first there is still unfinished business, quite close to you, actually. They are different, they deserve nothing but suffering for eternity . . . and they shall have it. . . .

I am sorry, I must control myself. You will be last, Captain Anderson, as it should be. Your pain will soon end . . . I will help you. Sleep well. Good night."

Anderson threw back his blanket and shot up from the mattress to scream at the speaker box, but instead stiffly staggered back a step, gasping for air. Suddenly he jerked as if he'd been slapped and clutched his left breast. His eyes bulging, he staggered back again, hitting the wall. Unable to keep his feet, he slid to his buttocks as the security camera whirred, moving right, then lower, to keep him in view. Anderson's eyes rolled back and his arms fell limply to his sides as he toppled over onto his side.

Fifteen seconds later the steel door opened and a man walked in holding a broom in one hand and a pistol in the other. Using the broom handle, the man poked Anderson in the rib cage, then in the groin. He got no response. His finger on . The trigger, he looked into Anderson's vacant eyes, then cautiously moved closer.

"Is he dead, Chin?" asked a second man who came into the room.

Chin turned his head toward the speaker, and Anderson struck then. He kicked his foot up into Chin's groin, doubling him over, and grabbed for the gun.

The man standing in the doorway snatched the pistol from his shoulder holster and flicked off the safety with his thumb all in one motion, but as he raised his arm to fire, he was knocked back by a bullet slamming into his breast.

Anderson swung the pistol and fired again, this time at the gagging man rolling on the floor. The bullet blew through Chin's left ear. He fired again, missed, stepped closer and squeezed the trigger again. Chin's head slammed against the carpet with a dull thud.

Anderson ran out the doorway into a laundry area, where he forced himself to stop and listen. The man he'd shot in the chest was on his back in the doorway, making gurgling sounds as he rolled his head side to side. Then came another noise, a door being opened. Anderson crouched and faced the basement stairs with pistol ready. Hearing footsteps on the wooden steps, he ran toward the stairway firing.

Unprepared for the sudden attack, the man on the stairs ducked without raising his pistol. It was a fatal mistake. Anderson charged up the stairs, pulling the trigger. The man groaned, pitched sideways, hit the wall, bounced back, and fell head first.

Anderson barely had time to flatten himself against the banister before the body tumbled past, leaving a trail of blood.

Listen! Anderson told himself as he stood frozen, peering at the open doorway at the top of the stairs. The cha-link of a round being chambered in an automatic pistol told him another one was waiting. Anderson still didn't move as he listened for more sounds or movement. Not hearing any, he spun around and looked for a way out. A long rectangular window above the washer and dryer was the closest. He backed down the stairway and picked up the pistol carried by the man he'd shot on the stairs. He backed up farther and threw the pistol he held in his right hand at the window. The shattered glass hitting the washer and dryer allowed him to quickly chamber a round and flick off the safety of the newly acquired weapon. He waited, knowing the remaining man had to make a decision, come down the stairs and hope he caught the escapee attempting to climb out the widow or run outside and around the house and shoot him coming out. Footsteps on the stairs told him what decision the man had made. Anderson raised his pistol, and as soon as he saw the man's feet, he fired.

Flit in the ankle, the man screamed in agony but didn't fall.

He dropped to his knee and fired as fast as he could pull the trigger. Anderson was suddenly knocked backward. It felt as if he'd been hit in the thigh with a red-hot sledgehammer. The washer kept him from falling down, and he raised his pistol and fired again. Through watering eyes he saw that the man had toppled over but his foot had caught in the banister supports. He was looking at Anderson through unseeing eyes. A small hole above his right eye explained why.

Gritting his teeth, Anderson took a step forward to test his leg. He told himself he could endure the throbbing pain. He took another step and looked down at his wound. The perfectly round bullet hole was two inches above and to the left of his kneecap on his right leg. The exit wound was ugly; it looked like a small chunk of skin and muscle had been taken out of the back of his leg by a miniature backhoe. Worried that he would bleed to death, he bent over the body at the bottom of the stairs and removed the dead man's belt. Cinching it tight, above the wound, he was about to attempt to try the stairs when he heard a muffled voice. He grabbed for the pistol he had stuck in his underpants. Before ever touching the grip, he relaxed and let his arms fall to his side. He bent over again, felt beneath the dead body and touched what he was looking for. He pulled the small handheld Motorola from the man's belt just as the voice came over the radio again.

'House One, this is base, over. . . . House One, House One, this is base, report your situation again, over."

Anderson let the radio fall out of his hands and he clenched his teeth. Grabbing the rail, he began pulling himself up the stairs.

.

11:10 P. M. Days Inn Motel, Fairfax, Virginia.

Eli was laying in bed but couldn't sleep. Thirty minutes earlier Ramona had called with the news that Walter Schwark was dead, as were his wife and two resident agents from Greenville.

Eli stared up at the darkened ceiling seething in frustration, guilt, and anger. Ramona had told him witnesses at the motel heard doors being kicked in and shots being fired. Some had looked out their windows. A salesman had said he saw a man dressed in black stooping over another man in the parking lot and suddenly there was a flash and the sound of a pm going off.

That scared him, and he'd backed away from the window. An elderly widow, on her way to visit her son, said she saw the same thing, but after hearing the shot she saw the man in black join two others and run to a gray van where yet another man was waiting in the driver's seat. The van had sped away.

The phone rang, startling Eli. He picked up the handset.

"Agent Tanner."

Two minutes later, dressed only in jogging shorts and T-shirt, he was in the hallway and knocking on the door of the room beside his.

Ashley opened the door wearing a sweatshirt that went down to her knees. "More bad news?'

Eli headed back to his room while speaking over his shoulder. "The Washington office says the Manassas police just informed them they arrested a man who says he's Robert Anderson. They're taking him to a hospital in Manassas. We can be there in ten minutes."

The Manassas deputy sheriff led the way along the hospital corridor. ". . and there he was in his underwear, sittin' on the floor of McDonald's, holdin' a pistol, waitin' for us. The night crew was scared shitless. They said he came in and told them to call 911 and get out. He surrendered his weapon as soon as we entered and started tellin' us about his kidnappin'. We called you feds immediately. The guy refused to go, sayin' he had to show us where the house was. He said it was close by, but with him bleedin' like he was, I worried he wouldn't make it. We kinds forced him into the ambulance. He fought us like a damn wildcat, yells' somethin' about a voice and men in his team being murdered. A nutcase, if you ask me."

Eli picked up his pace and drew alongside the deputy. "The Washington office agents arrive yet?"

"Yeah, one has. He told me to meet ya at the front entrance and bring ya up. Here we are, this is where they have him. Doctors in Emergency already worked on him."

Eli held the door open for Ashley, who had been trying to keep up. As soon as Eli entered the room and saw the patient lying in bed, he knew it was indeed Anderson. His face was bearded and he'd filled out and gotten gray, but he still had the blue eyes of the young captain standing in the center of his team in the old photograph.

A tall agent standing by the bed turned. "Agent Tanner?'

Eli nodded. "Yes, that's me. This is Agent Sutton, Atlanta.

Thanks for calling."

"No sweat. Brad Brewer, Washington resident office. Agent Sweeney told me he talked to you about the colonel. He said you guys in Atlanta had the lead, so I gave you a call. Colonel Anderson, here, says he will take us to the house."

Anderson winced as he sat up. "We've got to go now. I have to prove to you I'm telling the truth. You've got to find him, he's not through . . . there are others he's going to kill."

Eli approached the bed. "Who is he, Colonel?'

Anderson shook his head. "I don't know, I just heard a voice generated by a computer, but he knows everything about the team and what happened at Camp 147. Please, get me out of here and let me show you."

The tall agent raised an eyebrow toward Eli. "The colonel says he doesn't know how to tell us how to get there. Says he was unconscious when he was taken into the house and he didn't know where he was. He only remembers what route he took out of the house and the road he followed until he saw the golden arches. It's your call, Tanner, Atlanta has the lead and you're the rep in town."

"Get me a doctor to monitor him, and let's get him into a wheelchair. We're going to check out his story."

The agent smiled. "I thought you'd say that. Everything's ready to roll. I've got a tac team coming and they'll meet us at McDonald's, where the colonel says he needs to go first to get his sense of direction."

Eli looked into Anderson's eyes. "Sir, while we're moving you, tell me everything you saw and heard. Keep focused, Colonel. I know you're in pain, but keep your attention only on me and listen to my questions and think before you respond.

Got it?'

Anderson kept his eyes level with Eli's. "You have to stop hint"

Minutes later, in the hospital parking lot, Ashley waited until the colonel and the doctor were in the resident office van before whispering to Eli, "What in the hell are you doing?

We're not the SAC's reps here in Washington-he doesn't even know we're here."

Eli opened the van's sliding door and whispered, "They don't know that. Just be quiet and take my lead."

"Tanner, we're going to get in trouble for this."

"No, Agent Sutton, I'm going to get in trouble. What are they going to do, send me to Columbus, Georgia? Get in."

Chapter 13.

Ashley hopped out of the van and followed Eli and Agent Brewer to the middle of the road, where they waved the FBI vehicles and Manassas police cruisers off to the shoulders. Eli spoke impatiently, "Brad, where in the hell is your AIC?"

Brewer shook his head. "He said he'd be here. I can run the op till he does, but I don't feel comfortable with it. I've never worked with a tac team."

Eli began taking off his blazer. "I've got experience so I'll take it till your AIC shows up." He tossed his jacket to Ashley and clapped Brewer's shoulder. "I need a look-see man, and you're it. You heard the colonel describe the house, so I need you to make a drive-by and confirm it's the place. Also look to see if there're any vehicles in the drive or next to the house.

Remember, the colonel said there weren't any when he left the house."

Brewer handed Eli a handheld radio. "You take this one and I'll use my partner's. We'll take his car and call you when we pass the house." Brewer immediately faded into the darkness, leaving Eli to face the agents and Manassas Police Department officers gathering next to the tac team truck.

Ashley stepped closer to Eli and whispered, "Tanner, you'd better wait for their Agent in Charge. If anything goes wrong, you'll be blamed."

Eli handed her the radio. "Hold on to this while I at least get these people briefed on what's going on." He turned and raised his voice. "Okay, people, please give me your attention. I'm Special Agent Tanner and I'm assuming the duties of Agent in Charge until the AIC arrives. I know many of you have not been briefed on the situation. First let me know who I've got here. Senior people please identify yourselves and tell me how many men you have under your control."

A thin police officer stepped forward. "Agent Tanner, I'm Deputy Colson from the Manassas P. D. I have six officers here and more on the way."

A stocky man stepped forward in full tactical equipment dark blue fatigues, Kevlar vest, shoulder harness, and tactical radio headset. "Sir, I'm Agent Yates, ops officer for the resident office tac team. The commander and four members of the team haven't arrived yet but should be here within the next twenty minutes. I have eight team members present for duty."

Eli nodded. "Okay, so far so good. I'm making the tac team's truck the command post for the time being. Let me give everybody a quick update. Colonel Anderson says the house where he was held is down this street about a hundred yards and off to the right in some woods. Agent Brewer is now making a drive-by to confirm that it is in fact the house described by the colonel. For the present we will assume it is and begin planning. As you can see, there are no other houses around. According to the city map provided me by the police, the house is about thirty yards hack from the road and the only entrance is a driveway. The map also shows the Manassas Battlefield Park backs up to the hack of the house. The colonel says he popped four men in the house; all were armed. He says one was carrying a handheld-"