|
|
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest
1920 Local
Harm smiled at Trask, "Very good, Reverend. I hope you won't be offended if I wait until I hear Lt. Singer is safely back in Memphis before I fulfill my end of the bargain? You could consider it a downpayment."
Trask smiled warmly, although his eyes were ice-cold, "Of course I'm offended. So much so that I believe it would be more prudent to keep Lt. Singer here. We can release the two of you together - provided that what you tell me is worth the price."
'Damn, so much for the easy way... ' Harm managed to chuckle ruefully, "Well, it was worth a shot." He extended his wineglass to the Reverend who obligingly refilled it. "As a commanding officer, I'm sure you're familiar with the dilemma of being responsible for your junior officers - even the ones you don't like. I felt obligated to try."
"Of course," Trask's smile became a little more genuine. Finally, someone who understood the onus of leadership. He would truly regret this man's death. "You were going to tell me about Koslov?"
Harm tilted his head, "I believe you were going to tell me what you've deduced or suspected. That way neither one of us has to waste time rehashing old ground."
The Reverend stared at Harm for a long moment, "Very well. As you are no doubt aware, Koslov has been supplying this base for the last eight months. Just about everything we need to get up and running. He's even gotten us materials to put up our buildings. The only things he hasn't provided have been... "
"Money and weapons," Harm finished.
Trask looked at him, "Yes."
"And he told you those items were harder and riskier to obtain and to be patient, he was figuring out a way to get them for you." Harm continued.
"Also correct."
"Would it surprise you to learn that Koslov has already figured out a way? Or, I should say, one of his people has." Harm looked at Trask expectantly. If the Reverend bought this, he and Singer's chances would be going up.
Slowly, Trask raised his eyebrows, "No, I'd have to say it wouldn't surprise me in the least. Do you know why he hasn't handed them over or said anything?"
'Here we go.' Harm gave Trask a small smile, "Have you ever heard of a group called 'Archangel'?"
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
1945 Local
Lauren paced back and forth in her tiny room. Koslov had provided her with quarters, so to speak - if you could call a closet with a bathroom attached 'quarters'. He hadn't bothered locking her in, where would she go? She did have one of those militia hicks outside her door. He was her 'escort' around the encampment. She and Koslov had dinner together and she'd spent an incredibly boring hour or so, listening to him alternate between vilifying Trask and aggrandizing himself. Fortunately, she had long ago mastered the technique of appearing vitally interested whenever necessary.
She wished there was some way to quell the nervousness and fear. She felt like she was balancing on a knife edge. Her life was hanging on a lie... what had she been thinking?! Some stupid feeling of loyalty had compelled her to try and stop them from beating Cmdr. Rabb. It seemed like the logical thing to say at the time and fortunately, Rabb was quick on the uptake. She didn't like MacKenzie but still, convincing that cretin had left her feeling uncomfortable. Lauren wasn't sure if it was the lie itself or the fact that it was such a flimsy lie.
She sat down on the narrow bed and put her head in her hands. Lauren actually did know one reason for her fear. She'd bet a month's salary that MacKenzie and Perez had turned right around and were on their way back to the militia camp with some vague, ill-planned notion of rescue. What the hell good did the Colonel think she could do? That stupid, stubborn woman could barely walk! God damn the Marines and their goddamn insistence on retrieving their own! They were going to get caught and then, she supposed, they could all have the satisfaction of dying together.
She got up and started marching again. Almost... almost, she considered throwing in with Koslov for real. But... the Captain, for all his apparent skill at not getting caught, was a stupid and vainglorious man. Half the reason for his success was that his commanding officer was an obtuse egotist. The other half was due to Charlie Jacobs' genius. Koslov was quick to take advantage but if he ever had an original thought, Lauren was willing to wager, his head would explode from the shock.
Unfortunately, one didn't have to be smart to be dangerous - which made this charade she was playing that much worse. Lauren snorted to herself as she flopped back down on the bed. She couldn't believe the cavalier attitude of the others, like this was some sort of demented game that they could walk away from. Damn them for getting her involved in this!
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0415 Local
Tyler sat and watched the camp. He was on a foraging mission. It had taken a while to convince Perez, but in the end, it was necessity that decided the issue. They needed more supplies. The captain had told him that this would be the safest time to try something. He also told him to get in and get out as quickly as possible. Quietly, he made his way to the mess hall. There was a supply shed next to the kitchen area. It would be his first stop. Hopefully, they didn't bother locking up the canned goods. A few minutes later, he was crouched in the shadows of the two buildings. For all his aplomb in front of the captain, right now his heart was hammering so loud, he was surprised the sentries hadn't heard.
When the kitchen door banged open, he thought his heart just plain stopped. He made himself as small as possible against the base of the shed and tried not to breathe. Damn! He hadn't thought they'd get started this early! Still as a statue, only his eyes tracked the movement of the man. Dressed in white, he was probably a mess hall attendant. Tyler didn't think the cook would do his own fetching and carrying. He heard the jingle of keys as the attendant approached the shed door. It had been locked! Maybe this would work out after all... providing he didn't get caught.
Tyler waited until the man had gone back into the mess, carrying a box of supplies. It was now or never. He eased upright and made his way to the door and quickly ducked inside. Unslinging his backpack, Tyler methodically plucked out the things he thought they'd need. He took the few extra seconds to rearrange items so it wouldn't be apparent anything was missing. He'd come across a carton of linen napkins and had gleefully used them to pack around the canned goods. The kitchen door banging was all the warning he had. Tyler barely made it to the side of the door before the attendant walked in. As soon as the he was past, Tyler flattened him with a large can of stewed tomatoes. He looked down at the unconscious man and then took a quick look outside. Now what?
The one thing he hadn't wanted to happen was for anyone to suspect he was around. Now he might as well spray-paint his name and a big direction arrow. The militia would turn over every rock, and while he might elude them, Perez and the Colonel wouldn't. Dammit, he had to do something, and quickly - he couldn't afford to sit around either. Wait... what if he could make this look like an accident? Like the guy slipped and knocked himself out? Any claims of being attacked could be passed off as not wanting to admit his own clumsiness. Tyler dragged the man further in and started scanning the shelves. There! Apples - not the best but certainly plausible. He opened the bag and laid it on its side, spilling them on the floor. For good measure, he stepped on a couple near the man's shoe. Gathering up his backpack, he checked to see if the coast was clear and vanished into the pre-dawn darkness.
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0500 Local
As soon as it was light enough, AJ started out. He'd been awake for about an hour, trying to work the stiffness and kinks out of his muscles. He was getting too old to be playing human pinball with bunch of trees. Dammit, that's why he had junior officers. They probably thought this kind of stuff was exciting. He kept on trudging uphill. AJ had decided the best course would be to seek the highest ground and then circle out from there. At some point, hopefully, he'd run into the Gunny. After that, they'd see if they could find the militia camp.
AJ reached the summit and looked around. Trees and scrub growth in all directions and not much else. He thought about yelling for Walters and then decided against it. There was no sense in attracting the wrong sort of attention... any more than he already had. Squinting into the rising sun, he decided to start from the east. Stepping out about fifty paces, he turned and began his circuit; taking note of anything of interest. Keeping the summit at his right shoulder, he completed the first circuit and moved out another fifty paces to begin the second. He'd keep increasing the distance for as long as he could keep his reference point in sight. After that, he would head for the next summit and start again. At some point, he would run into something or someone. This was the South, not the West - distances were just not that great. His problem would be avoiding any more psycho rednecks.
He was skirting a particularly dense thicket when he heard it. The light crunch of leaves that could mean someone shifting... or a squirrel scurrying out of sight. Deciding he'd rather feel foolish than dead, he crouched and spun, drawing his pistol at the same time. And found himself looking at the surprised face of Gunny Walters, who had his pistol drawn, too. He was also sporting a large bruise and jagged gash on the side of his head. They relaxed and lowered their weapons at the same time. AJ looked at the Gunny, "Are you okay?"
Walters touched the side of his head gingerly, "Yes sir, I think I finally found a rock that was harder than my head."
AJ grinned, "Maybe you should have it bronzed."
Gunny looked at the Admiral for a moment, he wasn't too sure about kidding around with a two-star. On the other hand... what the hell? "Actually, sir, I was thinking of a nice plaque." He glanced around the forest, "Well, I'm lost. Any idea which direction the militia camp is, sir?"
AJ shook his head, "Not a clue, Gunny." He waved a hand, "I've been working a circle pattern. I suppose it's as good a method as any, we're bound to run into something." They started walking.
Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0620 Local
Mac struggled to open her eyes. Time was running out, she could feel it. 'Dammit, Marine! Get Up!' She threw everything into a last-ditch effort and at last, her eyes flew open. Blinking in the morning light, she gathered herself for the next effort. Tentatively, she tried raising her head, closing her eyes when the spinning made her queasy. The pain in her shoulder rose and ebbed with each breath. It felt like the one constant in her life. 'C'mon, don't be a wuss.' The minutes were inexorably slipping away and here she was, flat on her back. Stop whining and start moving!
Fine... try it another way. Gritting her teeth, she tried to roll to one side. '... what the hell... ?' Why wasn't she moving? Frustrated, Mac laid there for a moment. Her fear of being too late was an almost tangible thing. Its presence lurked just beyond the edge of her sight, but it was growing. Damn, now there was another voice intruding upon her concentration. She wished it would shut up, she didn't need the distraction. It kept on, low and insistent, exasperating the hell out of her. Didn't it know about that... that thing? Every moment lost made it stronger. She HAD to get moving.
Perez looked over in time to see Mac's eyes open although she didn't seem to register her surroundings. Her fever had broken during the early morning hours. His eyes widened when he saw she was trying to get up. He hurried over and put a hand out, "Easy Colonel, you need to take it a little slower." God knew what had suddenly made her so intent on rising. He kept talking in a low reassuring tone, if he could just get her to calm down. Instead, she seemed to be growing more agitated. He captured the wrist on her good side, the Colonel seemed to hovering right on the edge of consciousness. He would try to get her the rest of the way and he didn't want to get decked for his trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Vicinity of Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0635 Local
Mac struggled to free herself. The fear had taken on sentience, wrapping around her and laughing even as it filled her with dread. Too late... out of time... too late... No! She would not, could not accept that and fought all the harder. There was still time... there had to be. That damn voice kept yammering in her ear. It sounded more frantic even as it urged her to stop - to give up. No!
"Colonel? Colonel MacKenzie? Can you hear me?" Perez hung on as Mac struggled to free her wrist. Afraid to raise his voice, he tried to make it more intense. Dammit, this was harder than he thought it'd be. He didn't want to hurt her and he was trying to keep her from hurting herself. "Ma'am, please! It's okay! Take it easy!" This was rapidly getting out of control. She was getting more and more agitated and now he was afraid to let go. Where the hell was she getting the energy?! By now he was half-straddling her, trying to use his body weight to keep her in one place. Hopefully, he could hold on until Tyler got back. Between the two of them, maybe they could calm her down. He wasn't having much luck by himself. What the hell was the matter with her? Where the hell was Tyler? He should be back any time now. At last, he heard the rustle of the underbrush and then a sharp intake of breath, and sighed with relief, "Get over here and help me, I can't keep her still!"
He got the shock of his life when two hands roughly grabbed him and threw him backwards across the clearing. He hit hard, rolled and scrambled to his feet in time to see a fist swinging towards his head. He threw out his left to block only to have the bigger man power through. He had managed to dissipate some of the force so the blow made him stagger but didn't knock him down. He evaded the next punch, came up inside for a quick one-two combination and took a blow to the midriff in return. He forced himself backwards, that midsection punch made him want to drop to his knees. He needed to keep moving, this guy was too big for a toe-to-toe slugfest.
Then he saw the other man next to the Colonel and threw caution to the winds. He launched himself at his opponent in a whirlwind attack that drove the bigger man backwards. Relentlessly, he pressed the attack, he had to stop the second man. He got his opening a few moments later and launched himself. He was almost there when the first man caught him around the legs and brought him crashing to the ground just short of his goal. Wheezing, he looked up to see the muzzle of a pistol stuck in his face. 'Goddammit!' He squeezed his eyes shut and then snapped them open at the unmistakable sound of shotgun chambering a round.
He could have wept when he heard Tyler's voice behind him, "Drop your weapons and stand up slowly." Perez felt the weight across his legs lift as the men complied. Carefully he sat up, rubbing his jaw.
"Now put your hands behind your head and move back." Tyler waited until they had moved away and glanced anxiously at Perez, "Captain? Are you and the Colonel all right?" He refocused his attention and his aim when the second man took a step forward.
"Ensign Tyler?"
Tyler's mouth dropped open as he lowered the shotgun, "Admiral Chegwidden?"
Perez looked from one to the other, "What?"
AJ looked down at him, "I'm AJ Chegwidden, the Judge Advocate General and I presume you're Captain Perez?" Perez nodded a little numbly as the Gunny extended a hand to help him up. AJ gestured to Walters, "And this gentleman is Gunnery Sergeant Rudy Walters."
Perez nodded once again and then his brain seemed to kick in again. The Colonel! With an apologetic 'Excuse me, sir,' he hurried over to Mac. It didn't surprise him to find the other three men close behind. He knelt on one side, while AJ knelt on the other. Tyler and Walters remained standing. Perez looked over at AJ, "The Colonel was starting to come around, sir, when you two showed up. She was stuck in some sort of nightmare, I think. She kept trying to get up - I was afraid she would hurt herself."
AJ grunted thoughtfully, looking down at his Chief of Staff, "How badly is she injured?"
"A broken collarbone and fairly long slash across her ribs, sir. It wasn't deep but it became infected." Perez paused for a moment, "I think a lot of it right now is exhaustion. These last twelve hours or so, were the first real break she's had since they grabbed her."
"Who's 'they'?"
AJ watched as Perez got a funny look on his face, "Ummm... it was a toss-up between 'Archangel' and the Acme Assassination Gang. Commander Rabb thought it was 'Archangel'."
AJ just looked at him, "The Acme Assassination Gang?"
"Well, they kept missing... "
"And I was starting to feel like the Roadrunner." Mac added quietly, she'd slowly awakened during their conversation. The more alarming aspects of her ... nightmare?... had faded with the return of full consciousness. She was still plagued with a sense of urgency and unease, but it was manageable. Mac surveyed the faces around her and smiled when she recognized Gunny Walters. He grinned lightly in return. Finally, she turned her gaze to the Admiral and felt vague surprise when he smiled at her. She was feeling fuzzy about a number of things, but the fact that she'd disappointed this man once again, wasn't one of them.
AJ saw the look and cursed inwardly. This was something he needed to fix and soon, before Webb made good his promise and he lost one of his best people. Well, he could start by treating her like the competent officer she was. He looked down at her, "Mac? Think you can handle sitting up? I need to know what's going on and then we have plans to make." Together he and Perez got her upright and leaning against the embankment. AJ frowned when she closed her eyes briefly, she'd gotten noticeably paler. He ran through what he had learned so far and asked, "Colonel? How long has it been since you've had anything to eat?"
Mac blinked and looked over at him, "Thirty-five hours and forty-two minutes, sir." Out of the corner of his eye, AJ saw Perez and Tyler exchange incredulous glances, Gunny Walters just looked smug.
Chegwidden shook his head slightly, "Then that's the first order of business." He looked at Perez and Tyler, "Which one of you officers is in charge of the Mess?"
Perez smiled and jerked a thumb at Tyler, "That would be young Daniel Boone, sir."
Tyler blushed furiously as Chegwidden's attention was directed towards him. Even though he'd been talking to the man for the last day or so, being this close to the Judge Advocate General was terribly disconcerting. He swallowed nervously and saw Colonel MacKenzie give him an encouraging smile. He looked back at the Admiral and stammered, "Sir?"
"What's for breakfast, Ensign?" AJ took his first good look at Tyler. He was small and wiry, with sandy brown hair - not a bad-looking kid. AJ decided he was one of those men who brought out the mothering instinct in every female past puberty... and was still young enough to consider it a disadvantage.
"Well sir," Tyler unslung his backpack and lowered it to the ground, "I've got these canned goods I picked up this morning." He glanced over at Perez, "We'll have to open them with a knife, I couldn't find a can opener." Looking back at the Admiral, he continued, "And I still have to check my snares this morning and I set a line in a deep pool I found. Hopefully, we'll have some trout. And... uhhh... if you'd like I could gather some fresh greens..." his voice trailed off at the look on the Admiral's face. Oh god, what had he said now? "Sir?"
AJ gave himself a mental shake when he realized he'd been staring. "Very good, Ensign." He paused for a moment while he considered whether he wanted to ask the next question. Finally, he said, "Where did the canned goods come from?"
Tyler glanced helplessly at Perez and then back to Chegwidden, "The storage shed next to the mess hall, sir." Behind the Admiral, he saw Colonel MacKenzie's eyes widen in surprise.
"In the militia camp?"
Tyler nodded slowly.
"And you got in and out without being seen?"
Tyler hesitated and then said, "Yes."
AJ looked a little harder. "Ensign?"
Shifting a bit, Tyler said, "Well, the guy never actually saw me. I waited 'til he was past and hit him with a can of stewed tomatoes. Then I made it look like he had slipped and knocked himself out. It was the only thing I could think of at the time," he added, half-apologetically. Chegwidden stared at the young man for a long moment. Behind Tyler, Walters and Perez exchanged looks and then studiously contemplated their shoes.
"Uh-huh." AJ looked over his shoulder at Mac and said solemnly, "Stewed tomatoes."
Mac's lips twitched once, "I believe the regs call for peach slices."
"In heavy syrup." Gunny added politely.
AJ gazed skyward, "He is young... "
"And inexperienced." Perez agreed.
AJ finally looked back at a nervous Tyler, "And I'm sure it won't happen again, will it?" At the Ensign's vigorous nod, the Admiral smiled, "Fine, go check your snares and the trout line. Don't worry about the greens, we'll make do with the canned food." He watched Tyler beat a grateful retreat before he started to chuckle. AJ turned back towards Mac, "Colonel? What would you like for breakfast?"
Militia Camp
Holly Springs Nat'l. Forest, MS
0700 Local
Trask stared at the three men standing in front of him and said quietly, "So you took it upon yourselves to have a little 'fun' with some civilians?" They nodded cautiously. "And you think one of these men was some sort of corporate president or chairman? ... But you're not sure because you lost their identification?" The third man shifted uncomfortably. The Reverend looked up at the ceiling and then brought his gaze and his fist down on the desk. "Have you completely lost your minds? How stupid can you be?!" His voice began to increase in volume. "Someone is going to come looking for these two! And they're going to find us!" Now he was up and pacing back and forth behind his desk. He turned and pinned them with a glare, "You've given the State Police and the FBI reason to come down here and investigate." He let that sink in and then waved a hand, "Get back to your barracks and stay there while I decide what has to be done."
Exchanging worried glances, the three men turned and left. Trask dropped back in his chair and propped his elbows on the desk. This was incredibly ill-timed. Ever since Koslov had grabbed those JAG officers, things seemed to be spiraling out of his control. Why he had ever agreed to it? He scrubbed a hand through his hair and answered himself ruefully, 'Money.' When Koslov contacted him to warn about the investigation, he'd also mentioned he might have a solution. One that could bring in a substantial amount of money. Ordinarily, he shied away from this sort of thing but he let Koslov convince him that they were just fulfilling a contract that was already in place. Besides, what was one woman when compared to the rest of his plans? Except, now she was dead, the buyers' people were due in tomorrow and because of that idiot Liston, he could expect the police at any time. The simplest solution would be to kill all of them, get rid of the bodies and just brazen it out with the cops. However, simple was seldom best... he'd have to think about this.
|
|