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Post by jaglady on Apr 5, 2009 14:19:15 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady.
I'm kind of giddy today because I've got my new story going up. It will be after this one. Worth the wait, I promise.
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Chapter 17—Under Siege
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” the short, heavyset woman shrieked as she put her hand up to her collarbone and settled back against the white wall. “What was that?”
Mac stiffened up and backed away instinctively from the door. “I don’t know, but stay back!”
Mac and the older lady were the only two in the ladies’ washroom at that moment. The explosions shook her to the core. If she had learned anything from the Pentagon attack and her combat tour, it was to get down and out of the way, first and foremost.
The woman’s hair was a soft white and sprayed into a bun, decorated with a gold clip. She wore a gold-threaded pantsuit and a beaded jacket. Her string of pearls swayed as she sank slowly to the marble-tiled floor. She breathed deeply and began to sweat.
Mac knelt down to her while glancing back at the ladies’ room door. “You all right, Ma’am?” It was hard for her to miss the woman’s paleness as she kept her ringed hand over her chest and breathed more heavily now.
The woman looked up with wide eyes. “I-I think so, uh, what are you, anyway?”
“Sarah MacKenzie, Ma’am. I’m a Marine Corps Lieutenant Colonel. My friends call me Mac. And you are?”
The woman caught her breath as she glanced at Mac’s decorations again. “I’m, uh, Mildred Vanderhorn. I was an Army nurse in the Korean War. Captain.”
Satisfied that there would be no more explosions, Mac crept back to the door. No lock. Instinct told her she had better stay with her new partner. Now there was only the silence. Slowly she opened the ladies’ room door and peeked outside.
Just from the haze and the smell, she knew right away that someone had set off flash-bang grenades. Whereas she had heard the screams just one minute ago, she now heard one voice from the grand ballroom, and not very clearly at that.
Mac glanced behind her again. Mildred now looked terrified, still holding her chest. She eased the door shut as quietly as she could.
“Miss Vanderhorn—“
“Call me Mildred” the lady said between frantic breaths.
“Are you all right?”
Mildred reached for her purse. “I have to take a glycerine pill. Can I have some water?”
With sweaty, trembling hands, Mildred slipped a tiny pill under her tongue. After searching feverishly for the cups, Mac brought her new partner a small paper cup full of water. “Here you go. Tell me if you need more.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I wonder what’s happening” Mildred observed, her breaths coming more naturally now.
Mac watched the door now. “So do I, Mildred. But I think we better just stay put for right now.”
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The only sounds in the grand ballroom were the footsteps across the marble floor. As he strode toward the podium, his cold, calculating blue eyes swept the smoke-filled room, probing for anything that might be a threat. He held his M16 with the muzzle up, hand on the trigger, ready for action. Just like he had hundreds of times before. All of his senses were on high alert. No fear. No anger. Just cold, patient determination as he held his face to the podium microphone.
“Listen up. If you’re military, a veteran, or over sixty years old, get up and walk out now. Everybody else sit down and stay where you are. Go out the front door. Don’t try to come back in, and don’t try anything funny, or you’ll get your head blown off” he said patiently and matter-of-factly. “We’re all former Navy Seals. We know every inch of this building. We love our country, and we hate you government pukes. Veterans, military, and over sixty, out that door. Let’s go. I know you heard me.”
Ten other short-haired men in red vests and black slacks emerged and surrounded the terrified crowd now. Each one also had an M16’s at the ready, muzzles tilted toward the ceiling, ready to point and fire in an instant. They watched just as diligently as their leader as most of the terrified guests stood up slowly and cautiously walking toward the doorway, huddling together, glancing behind them.
His cold, determined eyes scanned the remaining terrified guests, about fifty in all. Most eyes were on him, terrified, nervous. Some bowed their heads in terror, helplessness. Some women sobbed.
He now walked away from the podium, striding more confidently through the smoky air, stepping past the black marks on the floor that had been left by the exploded flash-bang grenades. With his captive audience pared down by half and more silent now, he could get closer and talk over them.
“Okay. The rest of you. You’re all government pukes. We don’t like you. You do anything stupid, we’ll shoot you. So listen up. Take your cell phones, your PDA’s, your pagers, and slide them over on the floor. Right here. I know you know how to take directions. I find out you didn’t do what I tell you, man or woman, I’ll blow your head off. Makes no difference to me. Let’s go! Hard of hearing?”
Slowly the sea of gowns and tuxes stood up, looked around, patted themselves, and watched their captors reluctantly as cell phones, pagers, Blackberries, and radios slid across the marble floor one by one. He looked down at them, not with satisfaction or anger, but with cold calculation, as though everything was happening the way he had planned.
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Outside, in the night air, the crowd of military and veterans didn’t hesitate to take out their cell phones to call for help.
Bud looked around frantically when a white arm yanked him into the shrubs against the wall. “Hey!”
Harm shushed him urgently. “Hey Bud! It’s Harm! What’s going on in there?” Harm whispered loudly, his face just inches away.
Bud caught his breath. “They just told all the military people and everybody over sixty to leave. Everybody else is still in there. The guys are dressed as waiters. They had M16’s.”
Harm now glanced up at the building. “Arthur Logan in there?”
Bud nodded. He had recognized Logan from the mugshots.
“Where’s Mac?”
“I didn’t see her anywhere. She might still be in there.”
Harm’s eyes darted as he pursed his lips. “How many of them in there?”
“How many what?”
“How many of them dressed as waiters?”
“About ten. They had M16’s. That’s all I saw. They made us leave.”
The commander tugged on Bud’s white sleeve, leading him through the brush as he crept along the wall.
The outside air now became thick with sirens on the ground and helicopters hovering overhead. The air fanned down in the darkness, kicking up dirt. Spotlights now glinted from nearly every angle.
Emmie and Ryan hovered out of sight from the glaring lights and roaring helicopters, just in case one of the captors was patrolling the grounds.
“Wish I knew what was going on in there” Ryan said. He then patted his side. “Wish I had my firearm.” His eyes then followed a black cable that snaked out of a hole in the old wall and trailed to the ground.
“Emmie. That a satellite cable?” Harm wanted to know, shouting over the roar.
She glanced and tugged on it. The neatly-cut end came up in her gloved hand. “Yeah. Looks like it goes to a security box. They must’ve cut it.” She then kicked the ground. “Yeah. Here’s the other end down here.”
Harm looked up into the window about five feet above their heads. “That’s gotta be the security room in there. Bet they have the cameras in there. Emmie, can you splice that cable?”
She pursed her lips. “You still have my tool case in your car?”
The Commander nodded.
“If somebody can get me my tool case, I can have that thing spliced up in about five minutes.”
“How are we gonna get to the car?” Bud wanted to know.
Emmie shook her head and peeled off her satin gloves. “I suppose I can try to do it by hand. It might not work, though. Let’s see if I remember how to do this, now.” With her teeth she bit on the black plastic coating and peeled it back, then began to unravel the wires. “Haven’t done this in a long time.”
“Can we still get that tool kit?” Harm wanted to know. He reached into his white pocket and handed Ryan his keys. “Ryan, why don’t you meet up with one of the SP’s out there?”
Ryan nodded, looking around carefully. “Will do.”
She looked at him. “Be careful. If you can get your hands on that tool kit, you’ll have weapons. Trust me.”
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Post by earthylady on Apr 6, 2009 14:07:13 GMT -5
Exciting chapter. I'm feeling sorry for the "government pukes".It must be really scary for them.It will be interesting to see what plan our team(the good guys) come up with.
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Post by jaglady on Apr 6, 2009 17:40:23 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. Let's just say it wouldn't be a JAG crossover without some Bud gaffes. ;D Glad you're enjoying.
I actually tried to post one of my stories out on another CSI forum, but I get the feeling that, if it's not E/C or some pairing, it's not well-received. So I said "whatever".
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Chapter 18—Making Connections
Satisfied that she had properly twisted the wires together, Emmie now pulled the black coating flush on the cable. “Best I could do” she said with a slight shrug. “If it weren’t for all these lights I couldn’t see what I was doing.”
“That’s okay” Harm assured her. He glanced up at the window above their heads. “Now I’m gonna need you to do some climbing.”
Her eyes widened at him. “WHAT?”
He looked down at her seriously now. “Bud and I will boost you up to that window. See if you can open it. But first see if there’s anybody in there.”
Emmie glanced down at her gown and shook her head. “Harm, you really think—“
“Emmie, we gotta get that security room working! Those cameras will be the eyes and ears for the SP’s” he insisted, opening his white jacket. “Besides, you’re the lightest one of us. Get over here, Bud. We’re gonna give the lady a boost.”
The computer tech draped her gloves on the nearby shrub. Harm put his interlaced hands in front of her knees. “Okay, step up.”
She put her foot on his hand as he thrust his arms upward, boosting her up quickly. Grabbing the old wooden window ledge she peered in. “Nobody in there. And yeah, those are the security cameras” she whispered down, still holding onto the ledge.
Harm was clearly straining under her weight. “Try the window” he said. “Bud, give me some help here.”
Bud quickly grabbed Emmie’s other foot as she pushed up on the old window. Slowly it slid open. “Hey. Unlocked!” she whispered.
“Great. Bud and I will push you up on the count of three. Ready? One. Two. Three!”
Both gentlemen thrust her weight upward. Emmie managed to get her upper body through the window. A chill shot through her when she felt something give on her dress as she fell the rest of the way in, landing on her side with a THUMP! The landing stunned her slightly. She stayed on her side motionless, gathering her skirt, her eyes closed in fear, praying nobody heard her.
Within minutes she saw hands and then the rest of Harm pulling himself up through the window, landing as carefully on the creaky wooden floor as his huge frame would allow.
Satisfied that it was safe, both Harm and Emmie sat up quietly. Harm suddenly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, motioning toward her bodice. “Uh, Emmie?” he whispered.
She glanced down at herself. “Oh my God” she whispered in shock, quickly covering herself with her hand. “Sorry, Harm.” The force of the window ledge had caused her bodice to slip, and both her breasts now barely peeked above the black-laced fabric. In an embarrassed fit she whipped around and attempted to adjust it. After a couple of failed attempts to tuck herself back into her tight bodice, Harm finally stepped behind her and carefully draped his white dress jacket over her bare shoulders. “See if we can fix that later.”
“Thanks” she said with an embarrassed sigh, slipping her arms through the white sleeves. “Sorry about that.”
The commander laughed slightly. “That’s okay, Cyberprincess. Don’t need you to be distracted. Now see what you can do with this system.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “ME distracted?”
The split screen monitor showed all angles of hallway security cameras. “Well, looks like nobody disabled them.”
“Any sign of Mac?”
Emmie shook her head. “There they are in the grand ballroom. Hang on.” She groped for the black adjustment knobs on the console. “I can zoom out here. Yeah, here you go, Harm. The grand ballroom. There they are. And with the spliced cable, the security company can relay this. Those infrared sensors don’t always tell you who’s who, but this will show them everything.”
Harm pulled out his cell phone when something on the camera caught Emmie’s attention.
“Hey, right here! Is that Mac peeking out of that door?” she whispered.
The Commander peered over her jacketed shoulder. “Yeah. Where’s that?”
The computer tech clicked the keyboard. “That’s just down the hallway from the grand ballroom, and not too far from here. Hang on. I can line up these cameras and give you directions.” She turned knobs again. “Straight down that hallway.”
He crept to the front door. “Stay down. Whatever happens, don’t open that door.”
“Oh God, Harm. Please be careful.”
With determined eyes he slipped out the door.
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The man felt a buzzing on his belt. He read the LCD screen on the black sensor. Radio waves behind him. He looked around cautiously. Slowly he crept down the creaking wooden hallway, following the strength of the radio waves, eyes rapidly sweeping between the hallway, the sensor, and his weapon, ears piqued for any kind of unusual sound.
Emmie was clicking the keyboard and turning knobs to readjust the cameras when the door flew open without warning. Instinctively she allowed herself to fall to the ground, hoping the uninvited guest didn’t see her. There was no way she could crawl under the desk without her skirt rustling. She simply shut her eyes and huddled down on her knees, not even breathing.
Oh God! Go away, whoever you are! Please go away!
Her heart quaked as she heard footsteps around the room. She began to tremble. Maybe he didn’t see her and would leave.
Before she knew what had happened, the man yanked her up sharply by her left arm and then covered her mouth. Instinctively Emmie lost all sense of reality as she closed her eyes and let out a muffled scream. Her whole world jostled, her skirt flying in every direction around their legs. She tried to wrench herself out of his grip. It was no use. The man knew how to counter her every move. Her mind went blank as she could only hold onto his strong arm in an attempt to pry his hand loose from her mouth. In a split second, images flashed through her head of what he might do to her. But then blind terror took over.
He rapidly hustled the terrified computer tech away from the desk, into a closet, forcing her to almost walk on her toes. Though she was bigger and heavier than most women, he shifted her body effortlessly to avoid her fighting, flailing arms and legs.
She continued to scream under his hand as tears now streamed down her face. In the darkness he stopped and jolted her.
“Hey! Emmie! It’s me! Dammit, will you stop screaming!” he whispered loudly into her ear.
Her screams faded away when she recognized the voice. Her wet eyes widened in the darkness. She let him set her down on her feet and take his hand off her mouth. Slowly she turned around, straining to see her captor in the darkness.
“Emmie, it’s me.” He shone his flashlight between the two of them.
“Stukes?” she whispered.
He could only gaze at her for a moment. “What the hell are you doing here?”
When reality came back to her, she shook her head. “Stukes? God, I don’t believe it. What are YOU doing here?”
He looked into those green eyes for a moment. Those beautiful green eyes that he hadn’t seen in so many years. But then he caught himself.
“Why didn’t you get out when you had the chance? Emmie, those guys know who you are. If they find you, they’re gonna kill you.”
She shook her head. Reality set in. “What are you talking about? Stukes, please tell me what’s going on? Are you mixed up in this thing?”
He now let out a painful sigh and put a hand on her jacketed shoulder. “Look, don’t talk. Just stay in here.”
“How do you know this place?” She looked around. “Where are we, anyway?”
“Tunnels in the wall” he whispered matter-of-factly. “This is an old World War II building. Look, just stay in here, and you should be okay. I don’t think they’ll find you.”
The two looked into each other’s eyes again for a moment. Stukes couldn’t help himself. For just a moment he touched her cheek. “Stay here, Emmie, and don’t open that door. It’s the only chance you got.” With that he slipped out into the light.
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Bud crouched behind the shrubbery. He stiffened up when he heard a rustling in the darkness.
“Over here, Bud.”
It was Ryan. He carried Emmie’s black tool case. “The SP’s know we’re here, so it’s okay. Satellite’s working. They’re picking up the signal. Where’s Emmie and Harm?”
Bud pursed his lips nervously. “Yeah, we helped Emmie up into the window. Harm had to put his hand up her dress….” he started.
Ryan opened his mouth for a second. “Never mind, Bud.”
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Post by earthylady on Apr 6, 2009 23:52:56 GMT -5
Great chapter JL.
That was a gaffe by Bud ;D
LOL,at poor Emmie, I remember the problem she had trying to get her "girls" back into the bodice.
Looking forward to the next chapter.
I hear you about the E/C thing.
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Post by jaglady on Apr 8, 2009 17:47:46 GMT -5
HEHEHEHE!! Thanks, Earthylady.
Sorry for the late update. Had a lot going on. Going for my preop appointment tomorrow. BLEEEAH! (Nothing to complain about!)
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Chapter 19—Vulnerable
Mac stiffened up and she darted behind the last stall when the door creaked open slowly. Mildred was safely in the corner, her back leaning against the wall. She still held a trembling hand to her chest, breathing as deeply as she could.
The Marine breathed a sigh of relief. “Harm. Thank God!” she whispered.
“Mac?” he whispered back warily.
“Back here!” she whispered, motioning.
He slipped through the door as quickly as he could, his eyes still darting about. He touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure about Mildred, though.”
The gray-haired Army nurse looked up at him with a tired smile. “Hi there” she said wearily, raising one hand and keeping the other on her chest. “You must be Harm. Mac told me all about you.”
Harm knelt down while still glancing up at Mac. “How are you doing, Ma’am?”
“Mildred” she insisted between breaths. “And my chest is kind of tight.”
Harm pursed his lips in frustration as he held his finger to Mildred’s sweating neck. “Your pulse is a little fast, Mildred.”
“I know. I took a glycerine pill.”
The Commander shook his head in frustration. “The one time I didn’t bring my cell phone. Dammit!”
“Harm, Bud said they let veterans and military go. I’m thinking….”
He looked at her. “That maybe we should just let them know we’re here?” He looked warily at the door. “I don’t know. But it sounds like the only chance she’s got.” He slowly began to open the door, but then closed it again and shrank back when he heard a determined set of footsteps. Perhaps military and veterans were allowed to leave, but he still had a bad feeling.
Mildred Vanderhorn dipped her head wearily as her chest continued to tighten. Seemed like the glycerin pill and water weren’t having the desired effect this time.
Mac knew that look. Mildred was getting worse. Slowly she let herself sink to the floor next to her.
“You gonna be okay?” she nearly whispered, scooping up the lady’s curved, wrinkled, shaky hand.
Mildred now had a sad smile on her face. “You know, it’s funny. I was just thinking about the hospital in Seoul back in Fifty-One. A troop transport had hit a mine. We must’ve been up for a good seventy-two hours straight patching those men together. And on top of that, the North Korean artillery got pretty close to us.” She drew several more deep breaths. “So you two are JAGS, huh? Tell me, Mac. Did you and Harm ever try to argue a case in the middle of a shelling? Did you ever get scared when you were in Iraq?”
Mac now pursed her lips as she held Mildred’s now sweaty hand. “Yes Ma’am. Plenty of times.”
Mildred gripped her hand a little more tightly now. “Feel scared now?”
She wasn’t sure what else to say. “We’re gonna get out of here, Mildred. Don’t worry.”
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Stukes walked dutifully down the creaky old hall toward the grand ballroom. Another red-vested Seal met him.
“What’s going on back there?” he demanded, motioning with his eyes.
Discreetly Stukes clicked off the black device before showing it to his cohort. “Nah, it’s nothing. Thought I picked up some radio waves. Think this thing just died. We better get back there. Art can’t do this by himself.”
The man just stared at him as he made his way back toward the grand ballroom. Something wasn’t quite right. Ignoring his partner’s advice, he now crept down the hallway to the security room where the door was still open.
With his trained senses he surveyed the room. The window was now open slightly. He noticed a heelmark on the varnished wooden floor, and the chair looked like it had been pushed, as though there had been a scuffle of some sort. His steely brown eyes darted around the room as he leaned his back against the wall, surveying, sniffing, listening. He tipped his head up when he thought he heard a voice.
Emmie leaned back against the wall in the darkness, now making some attempt to adjust her bodice. “Dammit, come on. Get in there!” she said aloud to herself.
In a split second the door flew open, nearly blinding her. When she saw the angry, imposing figure, she knew immediately that it wasn’t Stukes. She pressed her back against the wall, now shaking her head in terror.
His fiery eyes met hers for a second. Then the recognition set in. He smiled almost sadistically. “Emmie Stockburne-Qualls” he beamed, setting down his M16 on the table. As she slid backwards, he lunged forward and grabbed her arm and her neck. She shrieked.
“Who’s with you?” he demanded, looking down at Harm’s white Navy jacket.
“Let go of me!” she wailed, trying desperately to wrench out of his grip.
He now turned her against the dark, dusty wall and pinned her with his body. “Whose jacket is that?” he demanded again into her ear.
For a second time, terror blinded her mind. She knew she was helpless against him.
“Fine. You don’t want to talk? I can fix that” he snarled.
Before she could react, Emmie felt the pressure under her jaw. He had his hand on her head and calmly held his thumb to her neck. Just like all the others.
“Look at it this way. You’ll get to be with your husband again” he nearly whispered, sounding like he was getting sadistic pleasure out of what he was doing.
She tried weakly to claw at the plaster walls as her head began to tingle. Pain shot through her head and her left arm. Emmie could only hear his determined breathing. It couldn’t end this way, she thought. As her mind and her body went weak, her ears rang, and she could see stars in the darkness. Her head sagged and her legs began to buckle.
I love you, Ryan. I’m sorry.
She barely heard a hissing sound and felt the man suddenly release his hand from her neck. She had no strength left as her body became deadweight, crumbling to the dark, dusty floor.
Ryan dropped the hot soldering rod that he had just jabbed into the base of the man’s skull and reached forward, stepping over her attacker and carefully picking her up under her arms. She slid across the floor, her dusty skirt rustling, as he backed her out and quietly laid her down. Her head flopped down as he eased her onto her back as quietly as possible.
“Come on, Emmie. Please be alive” he begged softly as he felt her neck. Her pulse began to race back to life as she caught her breath, coughing, convulsing. Still aware of his surroundings, he grabbed her hand and shushed her. She moaned and put her other hand up to her neck. Ryan couldn’t help it. He bowed his head down to her, putting his face to her ear.
“Ryan?” she whispered softly, her eyes still closed in agony. She gripped his hand more tightly now.
“It’s okay, Emmie. I’m right here” he whispered back. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
As her senses returned, Emmie became keenly aware of a burning smell. Instinctively she held his hand more tightly. “What happened? What’s that smell?” She remembered the smell of burning flesh from the deepest darkest corners of her mind as a combat veteran.
“Your soldering rod? Bud showed me how to use it. I stuck it in the bastard’s neck.” Ryan breathed deeply to dispel the adrenaline. Reality now set in that he had had to kill another human being. He then glanced at the legs that stuck out from the compartment doorway. “I just did my job as your escort. That’s all.”
The near-death experience, along with the smell of burnt flesh, were more than Emmie could bear. She started to cry. “Oh, God, Ryan” she sobbed, her eyes closed in pain.
He shushed her again. “I’ll protect you, remember?” He now straightened up and glanced around warily. “See? The guy wasn’t so smart after all. He left his weapon here.”
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“Any sign of them?” Bud wanted to know as he watched the monitor anxiously.
“Nope. Nowhere, Sir” the young SP said matter-of-factly. “They’re probably still hiding.”
Bud Roberts now sat in the dimly-lighted mobile command van, his eyes glued to the monitor. Emmie had successfully reattached the cable to the security network, and the Air Force Security Patrol had now tapped in to the satellite feed. A black-and-white monitor now showed nine different areas of the Homestead Officers’ Club.
The young uniformed SP now leaned forward with a determined look. “Yes Sir. There’s the grand ballroom. There they are.”
Bud immediately poked the screen with his finger. “There’s Logan. What’s he doing?”
“Looks like he’s escorting someone away.”
The Lieutenant breathed deeply. “I hope they know what they’re doing.”
The young man nodded. “I think they do, Sir. Let’s just watch.”
Bud dipped his eyes. He felt incredibly helpless right now. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s just watch.”
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Post by earthylady on Apr 9, 2009 11:26:11 GMT -5
Wonderful chapter,an admission of love for Ryan from Emmie,Ryan saving Emmie's life.Just loved it
Looking forward to the next,I'm sure,exciting chapter.
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Post by jaglady on Apr 9, 2009 12:02:33 GMT -5
Thanks, Earthylady. May have to do a chapter a day from here. Trying to get this finished before my surgery. Don't know what kind of condition I'll be in.  |
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Post by earthylady on Apr 10, 2009 20:49:27 GMT -5
We will be here,so take your time.
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Post by jaglady on Apr 12, 2009 12:33:22 GMT -5
Thanks for your patience. Had to just let off some steam in my own way while reality sets in that I'm about to get knocked out and cut up in 72 hours. It's true that medical people make the worst patients (I was a surgical assistant for a while).
If I'm well enough to cuss and scream, I'm well enough to keep this up. Thanks to everybody for your kind comments and reviews. Almost there.
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Chapter 20—Final Showdown
Arthur Logan now leveled his M16 at the chest of a thin, older man who wore a black tux and glasses.
“Congressman McBride. You’re gonna go with me and make a little phone call” he said dispassionately, almost contemptuously.
“What about my wife?” the man wanted to know, his voice quaking.
“She can come if she wants. You’re gonna walk ahead of me.” He glanced matter-of-factly back at his cohorts. “If anybody moves, shoot them in the head.”
As their red-vested captor marched them down the creaky hallway, the sounds of their footsteps echoed off the walls. The man held his wife’s hand as tightly as he could. His heart pounded, and he kept his head down. His wife wrapped her free hand around her husband’s jacketed elbow as she clung to him. Both of them couldn’t help but feel as though they would not be coming back.
With the barrel of his M16, Arthur Logan shoved him into a foyer, handing him a cell phone. “Call your co-rulers in Washington. I’m sure they’re awake. Tell them to repeal that little Eminent Domain ruling right now. And also let them know they owe us money for my friend’s uncle’s farm. That happened in your district, Congressman. Between property values lost and court costs, twenty million should cover it. I’ll tell you where to transfer the money.”
The man now looked at him with wide eyes and shook his head. “I can’t do that. That was a Supreme Court ruling. The House had nothing to do with that” he insisted. His wife continued to cling to his arm, tears now on her face.
He looked at the Congressman unfazed. It wasn’t necessary to raise his voice. A low, threatening tone got the message across. “I know how you government pukes work. Back-room deals. Scratch each other’s backs. Pork barrel. Who paid who." He motioned with the barrel of his weapon. "No, you get your skinny little carcass on the phone and do it. You and your wife look fat and happy enough. My friend’s uncle lost almost everything when the government pukes snatched his farm out from under him to build a casino. Your district, Congressman. You’re responsible.”
He shook his head, terrified. He knew he was about to seal both their fates. “I can’t do what you’re asking.”
His eyes now blazing, he quickly raised the barrel of his M16 at the man’s head. “Fine! This will save my tax dollars!” Reflexively the terrified man held his wife as she shrieked.
Arthur Logan stiffened up when he heard a click behind him.
“You heard him, Mr. Logan. He can’t do anything” a calm but firm voice said behind him. “Now put the weapon down.”
His weapon still trained on the Congressman, the former Seal backed up just enough to see what was behind him and what was ahead of him. His eyes widened at being challenged.
Horatio had his 9 millimeter trained at red-vested Seal’s head. “Miami-Dade Police. It’s over, Mr. Logan. Put it down” he insisted again, walking slowly toward the steely-eyed man.
Arthur Logan simply locked eyes with the Lieutenant who inched ever closer to him, his black service revolver directly in front of his face. This clearly wasn’t part of the plan.
“Arthur? It’s over. Put down the weapon and get down on the ground now. Do not make me fire.”
The former Seal knew he was no longer in control. “Go ahead and kill me. I knew it might come to this.”
Horatio never took his eyes off Arthur Logan. “Congressman, you and your wife step back.”
Never taking his eyes off his captor, Congressman McBride pulled his terrified, sobbing wife back.
Immediately Arthur Logan whipped the M16 barrel toward the fleeing couple. Horatio quickly fired, striking him in the neck. His head tipped up as he dropped like a limp puppet. His M16 fired straight up into the ceiling as he landed on the floor.
His wife shrieked and hid her face while Horatio kept his weapon trained on the dead man. He had been hit in the jugular vein. Those steely eyes now looked vacantly at the ceiling as a black pool of blood spread under him.
“Sorry, Congressman. Arthur Logan is never gonna hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Instantly the grand ballroom erupted in panic. Another red-vested former Seal darted down the hall to his dead friend’s aid, barrel aimed squarely at Horatio. Another shot rang out, and he fell forward.
With determined eyes, Stukes stood against the wall, his barrel pointed at the back of the new casualty. His eyes darted back and forth between Horatio and the panicked ballroom crowd.
“Captain Stukesbury, U.S. Navy, Lieutenant!” he shouted above the panic.
The Lieutenant subsequently backed against a wall to avoid any gunfire. “Thanks for inviting me, Captain!”
As their numbers quickly dwindled, the red-vested captors obeyed the commands to drop their weapons and put their hands on their heads. Several tuxedoed undercover agents bolted forward from the hovering, terrified crowd, revolvers trained at their heads, and snapped cuffs on them, disarming them as quickly as possible.
Within minutes the grand ballroom had become a mass of overturned tables and chairs, smashed glasses, and scattered linen. Guests now scrambled behind tables or toward the exits. Stukes hurried in, still clinging to the wall. “Get these people out of here!” he shouted among the screaming, shuffling and crashing.
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There were no sounds except the frogs and crickets, and the occasional splash of a fish in the canal. In the humid darkness, the man patiently lay face down in the raft that he had hidden in the tall, soggy sawgrass. He tipped his head up slightly when he felt the black device on his belt vibrate. He looked at the LCD screen in the dim light.
Immediately he pulled out another black device and pushed the button with a resolve. Now he knew he would have mere minutes to be ready to move his cohorts out of there as quickly and quietly as possible. As he began to raise himself up, he heard clicks behind him. Adrenaline shot through him. He knew exactly what they were.
“FBI. Turn around slowly and put your hands behind your head” a low, threatening voice said.
The man put locked his fingers on top of his head and slowly turned around into the spotlights that now nearly blinded him. But he knew he had done his job.
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Stukes held his M16 in front of him as he scanned the creaky hallway, keeping his back against the white wall the whole time, slowly advancing to the doorway of the security room.
Ryan bolted up, ready to unload his new M16 into Stukes, who reflexively stepped back out of the way.
Emmie was sitting tiredly in the office chair, leaning forward on the desk. She put her hand up.
“Wait! It’s okay, Ryan! He’s a friend of mine!” she said urgently. “Stukes, what’s going on out there?”
“Captain Don Stukesbury, Navy Covert Operations” he told Ryan, who immediately pulled back the M16. “Come on. It’s over. I gotta get you out of here” Stukes told him urgently.
Emmie stood up painfully. “Captain Stukesbury?”
He motioned impatiently. “I’ll explain later!”
“Wait a second. Harm and Mac are still in the ladies’ room down the hall, I think.” She stood up and started to step past him.
“Stay against the wall” he cautioned.
Emmie slid past him and slipped open the ladies’ room door. “Harm? Mac? You in here?”
Both Harm and Mac had stayed out of sight along the far wall. Now they closed their eyes in relief. “Emmie? What the hell’s going on out there?” Harm demanded, the fear evident in his voice.
Stukes poked in his head. “Captain Stukesbury, U.S. Navy. Come on, it’s over! Let’s go, and I’ll get you out of here.”
Mac’s eyes motioned toward Mildred, who still sat on the floor gasping, out of view. “Wait. We can’t leave Mildred” she insisted.
The Army nurse now leaned her head back, nearly gasping, looking up at her new acquaintances. “Hi there” she said weakly. “Sounds like you had a busy night.”
Stukes slung the M16 over his shoulder and knelt down to the woman. “Ma’am? You okay?”
“She’s got a bad heart” Mac said softly. “I think she’s getting worse.”
Mildred let her head lean back against the wall. “Is it me or is it hot in here?” she asked more faintly now.
Ryan furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, come to think of it….”
The Captain hadn’t expected any of this. He reached down to pick up Mildred’s arm when he suddenly stopped and sampled the air.
“What’s going on?” Harm wanted to know. He knew that look.
In an instant the relative calm outside the ladies’ room door was shattered by the screaming of smoke alarms. He darted back and peered outside the door. A wave of smoke now found its way into the room. He shut the door as quickly as he could.
“Incindiaries! They’re torching the place!”
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Post by earthylady on Apr 12, 2009 21:08:48 GMT -5
Very exciting chapter.Logan taken out by Horatio,Ryan with a M16, fire.
Eagerly awaiting the next chapter.
JL, wanted to let you know my thoughts will be with you during your surgery.
Denise
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