“GRU,” Joanna repeated. “Military intelligence?”
“Yup. Sold it only with the condition that we promised to use it against a federal target. The real challenge was lugging it around all these years and keeping the batteries and what-not charged. Not an easy feat when you spend most your time in the woods. Can’t believe we finally get a chance to use it.”
“You people are crazy,” one of the soldiers from the floor spat. “Do you think you’re actually going to get away with this?”
Elias jumped to his feet and kicked the kid in the ribs. “Shut yer hole! You wanna end up like your buddy over there?” He pointed to the dead corporal at the end of the hall lying in a pool of blood.
One of the men working on the bomb closed the case and stood up. “Good to go. It’s armed.” He handed an old cell phone to Elias. “Dial preset one and it’ll detonate. If something happens and we don’t make it, we set the timer as a back up.”
“Thirty minutes?” Elias asked. He held onto the phone as if it were a priceless vase.
“Thirty minutes. I’m not sure what kind of blast we can expect from six kilotons, but I have a feeling we want to be as far away as possible.”
“Well, let’s giddyup.” Elias stepped aside as his two men slid the RA-115 tactical nuclear weapon across the floor and into the closet.
Chapter 30
Hank and Mike slowly entered the warehouse with their weapons drawn. “Jesus,” Mike whispered. “There must be hundreds of them.”
“Come on,” Hank snapped. “We have to find my wife.”
Mike yanked the sheet off a retiree in front of him. “I don’t know what I’m looking for, Hank.” He stared at the naked man on the table. “They aren’t tagged or anything.”
Hank darted from table to table, pulling off the sheets. “Just look for women for starters! Short brown hair, medium build.” He moved from one body to the next, his heart sinking each time. He felt sick as he waded through the sea of unconscious bodies. He knew there just wasn’t enough time to save each and every one of them. He wasn’t even certain if Peg was there. She could be in one of the pods right now, brain dead and hairless. Floating in toxic green goo. The two men that replaced him and Seamus could have completed the job that morning, joking and laughing, talking about pie from the cafeteria as they killed his wife.
“Hank!” Mike waved at him a few rows down. “Check out this one, short hair.” He pointed to the woman in front of him before moving on.
Hank jogged over and gasped as the woman’s face came into view. It was Peg. “It’s her!”
“You sure?” Mike frowned and cocked his head to the side. “They’re all starting to look the same to me.”
“Yes, yes! It’s her. Thank you, Mike.” Hank touched Peg’s face, warm to the touch despite the cool room. She was alive. He covered her back up with the sheet and carefully pulled the tape off her arm. He slid the IV catheter out and pressed down with the sheet to stop the bleeding.
Hank gently patted her cheek even though he knew it could take hours before the heavy dose of sodium thiopental wore off. He couldn’t afford to take time to think of the possibility she wouldn’t wake up at all. Hank wiped the tears from his face and tucked the sheet tightly around Peg. He was just about to turn around and ask Mike for help, when the room erupted in gunfire.
Mike screamed in his ear to get down and pushed him. Blood sprayed in Hank’s face as the unconscious man on the table in front of him seemed to explode. He scrambled to his feet and peered over the table to see Lieutenant Hendricks striding down the aisle holding a ridiculously large shotgun.
Hendricks spotted Hank and fired. Hank dove out of the way, tripping over himself as he struggled to get as far away from his wife as possible. He realized he’d set down his own shotgun on Peg’s table as steel pellets continued to pulverize flesh all around him.
Hank slid to a stop on the floor and frantically looked around for a weapon. He spotted Mike a few aisles over, lying on his back, his formerly white t-shirt soaked in blood. His lifeless eyes stared back at him.
“Reed!” Hendricks called out. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Mike’s compact sub-machine gun sat on the floor next to him barely twenty feet away.
“I’m out of ammo, Reed!” Hank heard the clunk of metal on metal as Hendricks dropped his shotgun on one of the tables. “Stop hiding like a pussy and come take me on like a man!”
Hank jumped up and ran for Mike’s gun. He only got about half way when a shot rang out behind him and he felt a searing hot pain in the back of his leg. He fell to the floor, clutching the back of his leg as blood oozed between his fingers. Mike’s gun was less than ten feet away. He tried crawling for it but had to stop. The pain in his leg was unbearable.
Hendricks sauntered over, holding his M9 loosely by his side. He kicked Mike’s gun across the room. “Sorry about your little friend, there. I was actually aiming for you. Guess I need to spend a little more time on the target range.” He crouched down in front of Hank. “What are you even doing here, Reed? You actually managed to escape, and then you come back?” He pointed the gun at Hank’s head. “Not that I’m complaining. How about I put you out of your misery so I can take care of the rest of your friends?”
A few gunshots from the next room caused Hendricks to look away, just long enough for Hank to make his move. He rolled over and kicked Hendricks with his good leg, sending him sprawling backwards onto his ass. Before Hank could get to his feet, Hendricks lunged on top of him, screaming with rage. Hank held on to the lieutenant's gun with both hands, desperately trying to pry it from his fingers or at least turn it away from his face.
The gun went off and the 9mm soft-point bullet hit the floor just inches from Hank’s face, spraying him with concrete chips, bullet fragments, and hot gas from the gun’s muzzle. Despite the pain coming from his leg and now the entire side of his face, Hank found renewed energy and continued to try and wrestle the gun away. He could see Hendricks shouting something, but the only sound he could hear was the intense ringing in his ears. Judging by the pain, it felt like his entire right ear was destroyed.
Incredibly, Hank could feel the momentum turn and the gun slip from the lieutenant’s grasp. He lashed out with his fist and hit Hendrick’s face. Did it again and connected with his nose, feeling bone and cartilage crumble on impact. Despite being twice Hendrick’s age and having no military training, he was winning. He could feel it. Blind rage over took him. The thought of coming this close only to lose Peg, filled him with the strength he needed.
He lashed out one last time and felt the gun pull free. It fell to the floor with a clatter. Hendricks reached for it and Hank was able to get enough leverage to push him off. Suddenly, Hank was on top of Hendricks. Hank swatted away the gun, grabbed the hair on Hendricks’s head, and smashed the lieutenant’s face on the floor. Hendricks struggled; Hank struck his head into the concrete again. It wasn’t until Hendricks ceased resisting, that he finally stopped.
Hank unclenched his fists and collapsed on his back, sucking in air and sobbing. He finally willed himself to sit up. He slowly got to his feet and limped towards the table where Peg rested, unaware of the chaos around her. He reached Peg and was relieved to find her unharmed from the firefight.
The table she was on didn’t have wheels, Mike was dead, and the cart the workers used to transport the bodies was all the way back in the boiler room. Hank wondered where the rest of the team was. If they weren’t around to hear Hendricks’s gunshot, then they’d either left them behind or were dead.
“Hey!” He shouted in the direction of the boiler room, barely hearing his own voice above his ringing ears. “Anybody out there? I need help!” Blood from his face landed on Peg’s chest and he tried to rub it off, but his bloody fingers only made it worse. He carefully placed her head in the crook of his arm and lifted her legs from the table. His injured leg protested and he almost dropped his wife back to the table.
Hank took a deep breath and tried to take a step on his good leg. The corners of his vision grew dark, and he struggled for balance, but held onto Peg. Another step sent him slamming into the table besides them. One more and he lost his balance for good. They tumbled to the floor and Hank managed to catch Peg’s head before it hit the hard concrete. He screamed in pain and frustration, cursing at the ceiling and feeling his strength sapping, now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
Hank sat up and pulled Peg close, resting her head in his lap. Her face looked so peaceful. He gently stroked her cheek as silent tears rolled down his face. “I’m so sorry, baby. I tried. I tried so hard.”
Chapter 31
The window next to Sanderson shattered, erupting into a spiderweb of glass fragments. Sara screamed in his ear. He shoved the truck into reverse and floored it, slamming into the car behind them. Another bullet ricocheted off the hood. He yanked the wheel to the left, slid the gearshift into drive and floored it again, pointing the truck directly at their assailant. He grabbed the back of Sara’s head and pushed her towards Holden. “Get down!”
Viper managed to get a few more shots off, two going high and one in the windshield, before he dove for cover. The truck hit the curb and jumped onto the side walk. John pulled hard right, scraping up against the side of the building and hitting a light-pole, before he managed to gain control and get the truck back on the road. He floored it and shot through the intersection. He risked a quick glance in the mirror and saw his former one-time partner fire another shot from his handgun.
“Everybody okay?”
Sara sat up and nodded. Holden looked behind him though the rear window. “Friend of yours? Looked like a civilian.”
John nodded and swerved around a garbage truck. “Operator I used to work with.” He laid on the horn, barely missing a couple crossing the street, before turning down a side street.
“Take it easy, man,” Holden said. “This thing is barely running as it is. You lose control and crash, then we’re really screwed.”
Sanderson forced himself to ease off the accelerator pedal. He looked into the rear-view mirror.
“Look out!” Sara screamed.
A delivery truck seemed to appear out of nowhere, completely blocking the street. John locked the brakes up but it was too late. The steering wheel slammed into his chest as they crashed into the truck and suddenly the world around them fell silent. He fought for breath and looked to his side. Blood streamed down the side of Holden’s face. Sara seemed unharmed, but stared ahead in a daze.
He finally pulled in a breath of air and unlatched his seat belt, asking for the second time if they were okay. The gash in Holden’s forehead wasn’t too bad and Sara was fine, just shaken. John turned around and watched as a black sedan squealed onto the street behind them a few blocks back, followed by a police cruiser. “Come on, we have to move!”
The driver of the truck hopped out and jogged over. “Holy shit, everybody okay? Where did you guys come from?” They ignored him as they climbed out of the mangled pickup and ran down the sidewalk. “Hey! Get back here,” the driver shouted after them.
“We’ll never make it on foot again,” Holden gasped.
“Way ahead of you.” Sanderson pulled out his hand gun. “That’ll do.” He ran out into the street in front of a taxi and pointed the gun at the car. The driver hit the brakes and came to a squealing halt just a few feet in front of him. Holden opened the door and yanked the driver out. A young couple sat wide-eyed in the back seat, gawking at them. Sanderson pointed his gun in their direction. “This is where you’ll want to get out now.” They jumped out of the car and ran away.
“Go. We’ll meet at the rendezvous.” John guided Sara to the passenger door.
“What are you talking about?” Holden slid behind the wheel. “Get your ass in the car!”
“If we stick together we’ll never make it. It’s me they really want.”
“John you’re scaring me. Get in,” Sara pleaded.
“No time to argue!” He slammed the door shut and pointed at Holden. “Just get her to the rendezvous.” He grabbed Sara through the open window and kissed her deeply. “I’m sorry. If I don’t see you again, try to remember that.”
“What? John, I…” Her statement was lost in a cloud of tire smoke as Holden hit the gas and sped off. John stood there in the middle of the street as the agency sedan turned the corner. Just as John hoped, the operators and the cops in the car behind them didn’t so much as glance at the most common vehicle in the city as the cab sped by.
Sanderson took off down the closest alley off the street. He heard the screeching of tires behind him as the cars skidded to a halt, followed by shouts of his pursuers. How long had it been since his own chase down a filthy alley? Running down a man whose only crime was knowledge. He could picture him clear as day, sprawled out on damp pavement, begging for his life before Sanderson swiftly took it from him.
He entered the street on the other end, just barely missing a cab as it sped by. Another coming in the opposite direction swerved to avoid hitting him and sideswiped a parked car. Sanderson risked a quick glance behind him and made out just two men following on foot. Viper and another operator, he couldn’t tell who. No sign of the cops. They’d probably put two and two together and went after the stolen cab. He could only hope Holden and Sara would be able to get away.
He slipped into the alley across the street, this one narrower, darker. It ended in a short staircase leading to a door. John hit it at full stride with his shoulder and crashed through rotted wood into the hallway of an old tenement building. It was littered with trash and reeked of piss.
Sanderson tried the first door on his right. Locked. Same thing across the hall. A quick glance back through the open door. No sign of them yet, but he knew they were just seconds away.
A door down the hallway creaked open and Sanderson rushed for it. The girl’s eyes behind the door widened in terror as he lunged at her. She tried to slam it shut, but Sanderson made it just in time and overpowered her, pushing the door open and sending her tumbling backwards. He closed the door behind him.