Alpha dogs, p.22
Alpha Dogs, page 22
part #6 of Witness Protection Series
“On the bright side,” Bill announced and managed a humored smile. “If we survive this, we’ll probably all be famous.”
He received several looks although no one was particularly enthusiastic.
“That’s a mighty big ‘if’,” Kate muttered and sipped her drink.
“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” one of the other men announced. “They gave you a gun.”
Kate removed the gun from the back of her pants and set it on the bar. “Yeah, and I have exactly five shots,” she informed him. “The people hunting us have a helicopter and automatic weapons. Five rounds in a semiautomatic is one step above using harsh language against these guys.”
“Look,” Sid announced while leaning on the bar. “The crazy guy said he sent out a distress message from their disabled helicopter. Worst case scenario; the Coast Guard is an hour away.”
“Think the Coast Guard can handle the organization we’ve seen?” Conner asked while staring at Sid. “They shot a commercial airliner from the sky. Unless the Coast Guard shows up with an entire fleet, they’ll be walking into a massacre.”
“That’s why Jackie and Zack are manning the bridge,” Bill informed them. “I’m sure they have the situation under control.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lindsey muttered and sipped her drink.
“Anything we should know about the men trying to kill us?” Kate asked while glaring at Lindsey.
“I don’t know anything about the men trying to kill us,” Lindsey snapped back and returned the glare. “My husband was the son of a mob boss. Two days ago, he tried to kill me in a fit of rage. Now his father wants me dead. That’s the extent of what I know.”
Bill shook his head with a look of disbelief on his face. “I find it hard to believe these guys are with the mob,” he remarked. “They seem a little too organized.”
“The mafia is organized,” Conner interjected. “That’s why they’re called organized crime.”
“I may be totally off base,” Bill announced while eying the others, “but this reeks of spy stuff.”
“Spy stuff?” Kate practically demanded. “What do you mean by spy stuff?”
“CIA, Mi6, KGB,” Bill proclaimed. “You know; that sort of spy stuff.”
“So the KGB shot a United States commercial airliner from the sky because Lindsey’s abusive husband met his demise?” Sid scoffed then snorted a laugh. “You may be my friend, but you’re off your rocker.”
“Maybe they’re not after Lindsey,” Bill insisted while raising a cocky brow. “Maybe this has nothing to do with her dead mobster husband. What if they’re after Jackie and Zack? What about their friends who parachuted from the plane? Who the hell parachutes from a commercial airliner? We know nothing about these people.”
“I do,” Lindsey announced and received several looks. She shifted uncomfortably on her stool. “My father hired them because they’re former military. They’re part of a team of badasses called Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.”
Kate suddenly straightened in her seat and stared at Lindsey with surprise. “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?” she practically gasped. “Are you sure?”
All eyes were suddenly on Kate.
“Does that mean something?” Bill suddenly asked.
“That depends on who you talk to,” Kate remarked while shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you remember that mob wedding that turned into one major bloodbath? They were there.”
“If the guys chasing us are after them,” Conner announced. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here. We don’t need to put ourselves between them and the guys who want them dead.”
Lindsey suddenly shook her head and eyed Conner. “No,” she announced. “We’re safer here. My father hired them. They’ll protect us.”
“Like they protected those on the plane?” another man remarked.
“That’s not fair,” Lindsey launched back. “They weren’t there when that happened. If they had been, they probably would have been able to stop it. If we stay here, at least we have plenty of places to hide. Despite being outnumbered, I think Jackie and Zack are still our best chance of getting out of this alive.”
“They did give us weapons,” Kate informed the others. “We need to be ready to defend ourselves against the guys hunting us. Stay or go; they’re still going to hunt us. Lindsey’s right. We’re safer here.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Jackie and Zack spent nearly an hour on the bridge keeping watch for a rescue or an attack, but it was looking as if neither would happen. It was nearly eleven A.M. Jackie became bored and started playing with switches that hadn’t worked in years. Zack suddenly became interested in something and slipped from the captain’s chair like a cat stalking its prey. He paused near the control panel and stared outside. Jackie immediately looked up. She just saw the same woods, but something must have caught his attention.
“What is it?” Jackie asked, desperately wanting to see what he saw.
“Something glistened in the tree line,” he announced while maintaining his stare. “Someone’s out there.”
Jackie sprang from her seat before the control panel and snatched her M416 assault rifle. She aimed it at the window and looked through the scope at the tree line. She frowned and lowered the weapon.
“The scope on this piece of shit isn’t worth a damn,” she informed Zack.
“Our luck. We get low-budget assassins. In order to pick them off from here, you’d have to be out on deck,” Zack replied without taking his eyes from the tree line. “By the time you zeroed in on them, they’d already have you in their crosshairs.”
She eyed him. “You can give me the good news any time now.”
“I’m thinking a play date in the cargo hold,” Zack announced then looked at her and grinned.
“You’re such a predator,” Jackie remarked while making a face.
“Are you coming?” he asked while snatching his assault rifle with a little too much enthusiasm.
“No, I’ll keep look out from here until I see the whites of their eyes,” she replied not sharing his enthusiasm. “Then I’ll alert our shipmates.”
A few minutes after Zack left the bridge by the interior stairs, Jackie saw the first intruder appear from the tree line. She wasn’t surprised that Zack hadn’t been wrong about seeing something. He had eyesight like a hawk. The man dressed in gray camouflage must have thought he was invisible with the way he scurried along the sand remaining close to the ground. Three more men dressed in similar outfits followed. Four would be enough to amuse Zack for a good fifteen minutes. When she didn’t see any others, it was time to alert their fellow survivors of potential danger. With her hand radio smashed, she had no way of alerting Zack to the number of invaders approaching, but he could handle four, so she didn’t need to intervene.
§
Despite Darth’s excitability, Gil was able to keep the dog within view as they hurried through the woods. Kirk and Bogart kept watch behind them to ensure they didn’t have any fans following them from the old airfield. Monroe kept an eye and a gun on their new friend, Tucker, who was possibly a prisoner if the circumstances were right. Sal and Mac remained in the middle of the SEAL team conga line with an awkward silence between them. There wasn’t time for small talk and keeping quiet was necessary, but it was obvious the two were tense in the other’s company. As they got closer to the opposite end of the island, Darth became uncontrollably excited and suddenly took off. Gil didn’t dare call after him, and his soft whistle didn’t bring the dog back. They had to pick up the pace to keep the dog in sight. The sound of movement behind them suddenly alerted Kirk.
“We have company,” Kirk announced loud enough for Gil in the lead to hear.
Without even looking back, Gil, Mac, Bogart, and Monroe, along with his prisoner, dove behind the nearest trees. Sal was left standing on the path with a baffled look when he realized everyone had disappeared. Mac reappeared, grabbed his arm, and pulled him behind a tree with her. They aimed their weapons into the woods behind them and waited. Five or six heavily armed men dressed in black combat gear hurried along the path attempting to make as little noise as possible while searching for someone or something. More than likely, they were searching for the passengers of what they considered an enemy plane.
Mac shifted looks at the others securely hidden behind their trees. The men were nearly statuesque and didn’t make a sound while waiting for those following them to get just close enough. Even Bogart seemed to have learned how to blend into any background. Monroe had mastered keeping a lookout and holding his pistol aimed at Tucker’s head just in case he decided to shout out a warning. They still didn’t know if he could be trusted. When the men were close enough, Monroe signaled the team. He had only taken his eye off Tucker a moment, but that was all the time he needed. Tucker caught Monroe’s wrist, thrusting the gun upward to avoid being shot, and punched him in the abdomen with his free fist.
“It’s a trap,” Tucker shouted as he dove out from behind the tree and rolled across the ground to avoid the barrage of bullets that immediately followed as the team fired upon the armed men.
The men pursuing them fired back and attempted to take cover from the gunfire that seemed to come from out of nowhere. The newly escaped prisoner ran for the pursuing men and safety. He suddenly stopped when he got his first glimpse of the men he had just warned. His expression dropped when he realized he didn’t recognize the pursuing men.
“Are you Cicco’s men?” Tucker suddenly gasped.
The men didn’t bother responding with words and fired several rounds into the former prisoner. Tucker took several shots to his body and fell to the ground. Despite the controlled gunfire on both side’s behalf, the exchange sounded like a warzone. Kirk winged one man partially hidden behind a tree. When he fell backward from the shot, Kirk got him with the second round between the eyes. Mac kept low to the ground behind her tree and attempted to follow the gunfire exchange, but she couldn’t even see the men hiding in the woods. Bullets seemed to be flying from all directions and yet coming from nowhere specific. Mac cursed at her inability to fire back. A bullet splintered the tree near her face. She gasped and took cover behind the tree. She eyed Sal alongside her.
Sal shook his head while clinging to his handgun. “I recommend you don’t do that,” he announced.
Mac ignored Sal and again attempted to follow the action hoping to get a round off. She saw one of the men speaking into a shortwave radio. She flattened her back against the tree and looked across the woods to Monroe.
“Hand radio,” she called out to Monroe then nodded to the tree directly across the woods from her.
Monroe looked at the tree she indicated then eyed Gil and gave a nod. Monroe leaped out from behind his tree, rolled across the ground several times, and allowed the enemy to shoot at him. He landed close to the tree Mac had indicated. As the other men attempted to shoot the moving target, Gil stepped out from behind his tree and fired at the men carelessly firing at Monroe. Kirk and Bogart joined in with the barrage of bullets, taking out both men. Monroe landed in a crouched position and fired at the man with the radio. The bullet hit the radio and entered the man’s face through his cheek. The last man fired at them while attempting to flee. Kirk spun around, caught the man in his sights, and fired several rounds, taking him down. When they were certain the threat had been neutralized, they checked on the dead men.
“Who do you suppose he was radioing?” Sal asked with concern. “Another plane?”
“No that was shortwave radio,” Monroe informed him. “He was calling for backup from his buddies on the plane with him. There’ll be more coming this way if he got that call through. We need to move out.”
“Darth went that way,” Gil announced while indicating the woods to the right. “If we’re lucky; he’ll backtrack when he heard the gunfire.”
Gil hurried through the woods. The others ran after him in hopes of finding the dog that would lead them to Jackie and Zack.
Chapter Thirty-five
The first armed intruder wearing gray camouflage entered the hull through the opening. He looked around the moderately dark area but willingly kept his flashlight off until he reached a secured location behind some crates. He had only taken two steps into the hull when his foot hit a carefully hidden tripwire attached to a gun. The gun fired. The man immediately ducked when he heard the firing gun. A bullet buzzed past him but didn’t even graze him. The bullet ricochet across the hull until it finally hit something wooden. The second man entered the hull while keeping low and looked around.
“Tripwire,” the first man announced just loud enough for his partner to hear.
“Poorly executed,” the second man remarked. “If these guys were any good, you wouldn’t be standing.”
“They weren’t trying to kill someone with it,” the first man insisted. “They knew the bullet would ricochet. It was a crude alarm to warn them of anyone entering. Clever but not very efficient.”
The first man followed the thin wire to the gun mounted on a support beam. He detached the wire from the trigger and removed the gun from the wall while grinning at the second man. He noticed too late that there had been a second wire attached to the gun. When he followed the taut wire back to the support beam, an ax left loose from above and struck him in the face. He twitched and fell to the ground. The second man jumped with surprise and immediately ducked just inside the hull opening. He turned on his flashlight and shined it around the ship’s hull. Despite the mess, there were no other trip wires. The two remaining men joined him at the opening with their weapons aimed.
“What happened?”
“Booby traps,” the second man gasped, still shocked at what he’d witnessed.
It was a gruesome way for his teammate to die. He finally straightened and made his way into the ship. The remaining two men followed him and kept their guns aimed as they scanned the area with their flashlights. Tension was now high. The sound of whistling caught their attention. It seemed to echo from every corner of the hull. The men shined their flashlights around the dark areas to the chilling sound of Chopin’s “Funeral March” being whistled. The second man immediately turned off his flashlight and moved closer to the wall. His two teammates shined their lights around then followed suit and turned them off.
“I don’t think I gave this guy enough credit,” the second man whispered to the others. “He’s messing with us like some psycho killer.”
“You’re overreacting,” the third man responded back, feeling less need to keep his voice down. “They’re glorified bodyguards. The only one with any real military training jumped from the plane before it crashed, and he was just their communications expert. We’re hunting some girl whose father was a Navy SEAL. The rest of the passengers all checked out as your average, everyday people. Only one or two even had any military background.”
“You mean the daughter of a Navy SEAL did that to Lou?” the second man remarked while indicating the dead man with the ax still embedded in his face.
“The girl got lucky,” the third man replied.
The third and fourth man headed through the cargo hold while the second man remained crouched against the wall and appeared deep in thought.
“Wait,” the second man announced, although neither man listened to him. “The man who parachuted from the plane was a retired Navy SEAL as well. If the daughter of a Navy SEAL was also the one who landed the plane, she might be Jackie Remus.”
“So?” the third man replied while continuing through the hull. “What difference does that make?”
“Jackie Remus married a fed,” the second man informed the others as he slowly straightened and looked around, again shining his light into dark corners. “Her father’s SEAL team was Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.”
“So?”
“So?” the second man practically gasped. “If we’re hunting Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, you’d better believe we’re not the ones doing the hunting here.”
The third man groaned. “I told you; the only known threat parachuted from the plane before it crashed.”
The second man remained deep in thought then eyed his teammates across the hull. “Was one of the passengers named Zack?”
“I don’t remember,” the third man replied while scanning the area with his flashlight. “What does that matter?”
“It was rumored that Zack Kinsley never actually died,” the second man responded. “I’ve heard talk that he still travels with his former team under different aliases.”
“Zack Kinsley is an urban legend,” the third man remarked without care. “He’s dead and buried. His own government even wanted him dead. Trust me; he’s dead.”
The fourth man now appeared nervous and shined his light around the hull while turning his back to his partners. A pair of legs swung down from above, circled the third man’s head, and easily snapped his neck creating a horrific crunching sound. The fourth man shined his light toward the sound. He saw his teammate standing before him with a strange look on his face as he swayed a moment before falling to the ground. The fourth man suddenly gasped and shined his light in every direction. He looked above him to the support beam. There was nothing there.
“He’s dead,” the fourth man called back to the second man by the hull opening.
When his teammate didn’t respond, he looked back toward the opening. The second man was now sitting against the wall with a knife stuck in his throat and a fixed look of horror on his face. The fourth man shined his light around the area. When he didn’t see anything move, he darted for the opening in the hull and ran back onto the beach. Once outside the ship, he spun around and aimed his weapon at the opening. Apart from the deck over three stories from the ground, there was no other way out of the grounded ship.
Several shots were fired at him from the opening in the hull. He cried out with surprise and leaped backward before exchanging gunfire. He then saw the barrel of the rifle poking through the hull. The fourth intruder aimed and fired, striking the sniper in the shoulder. There was a loud grunt as the man fell backward into the hull. The fourth man immediately hurried for the opening with his weapon aimed and stepped back into the hull. He hovered over the fallen man, prepared to put a second round into him, when he realized it was his own teammate on the floor whom he’d shot in the shoulder. He stared at his dead teammate while attempting to put it together. He realized too late that his already dead teammate had been used as a decoy.
He received several looks although no one was particularly enthusiastic.
“That’s a mighty big ‘if’,” Kate muttered and sipped her drink.
“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” one of the other men announced. “They gave you a gun.”
Kate removed the gun from the back of her pants and set it on the bar. “Yeah, and I have exactly five shots,” she informed him. “The people hunting us have a helicopter and automatic weapons. Five rounds in a semiautomatic is one step above using harsh language against these guys.”
“Look,” Sid announced while leaning on the bar. “The crazy guy said he sent out a distress message from their disabled helicopter. Worst case scenario; the Coast Guard is an hour away.”
“Think the Coast Guard can handle the organization we’ve seen?” Conner asked while staring at Sid. “They shot a commercial airliner from the sky. Unless the Coast Guard shows up with an entire fleet, they’ll be walking into a massacre.”
“That’s why Jackie and Zack are manning the bridge,” Bill informed them. “I’m sure they have the situation under control.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lindsey muttered and sipped her drink.
“Anything we should know about the men trying to kill us?” Kate asked while glaring at Lindsey.
“I don’t know anything about the men trying to kill us,” Lindsey snapped back and returned the glare. “My husband was the son of a mob boss. Two days ago, he tried to kill me in a fit of rage. Now his father wants me dead. That’s the extent of what I know.”
Bill shook his head with a look of disbelief on his face. “I find it hard to believe these guys are with the mob,” he remarked. “They seem a little too organized.”
“The mafia is organized,” Conner interjected. “That’s why they’re called organized crime.”
“I may be totally off base,” Bill announced while eying the others, “but this reeks of spy stuff.”
“Spy stuff?” Kate practically demanded. “What do you mean by spy stuff?”
“CIA, Mi6, KGB,” Bill proclaimed. “You know; that sort of spy stuff.”
“So the KGB shot a United States commercial airliner from the sky because Lindsey’s abusive husband met his demise?” Sid scoffed then snorted a laugh. “You may be my friend, but you’re off your rocker.”
“Maybe they’re not after Lindsey,” Bill insisted while raising a cocky brow. “Maybe this has nothing to do with her dead mobster husband. What if they’re after Jackie and Zack? What about their friends who parachuted from the plane? Who the hell parachutes from a commercial airliner? We know nothing about these people.”
“I do,” Lindsey announced and received several looks. She shifted uncomfortably on her stool. “My father hired them because they’re former military. They’re part of a team of badasses called Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.”
Kate suddenly straightened in her seat and stared at Lindsey with surprise. “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?” she practically gasped. “Are you sure?”
All eyes were suddenly on Kate.
“Does that mean something?” Bill suddenly asked.
“That depends on who you talk to,” Kate remarked while shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you remember that mob wedding that turned into one major bloodbath? They were there.”
“If the guys chasing us are after them,” Conner announced. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here. We don’t need to put ourselves between them and the guys who want them dead.”
Lindsey suddenly shook her head and eyed Conner. “No,” she announced. “We’re safer here. My father hired them. They’ll protect us.”
“Like they protected those on the plane?” another man remarked.
“That’s not fair,” Lindsey launched back. “They weren’t there when that happened. If they had been, they probably would have been able to stop it. If we stay here, at least we have plenty of places to hide. Despite being outnumbered, I think Jackie and Zack are still our best chance of getting out of this alive.”
“They did give us weapons,” Kate informed the others. “We need to be ready to defend ourselves against the guys hunting us. Stay or go; they’re still going to hunt us. Lindsey’s right. We’re safer here.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Jackie and Zack spent nearly an hour on the bridge keeping watch for a rescue or an attack, but it was looking as if neither would happen. It was nearly eleven A.M. Jackie became bored and started playing with switches that hadn’t worked in years. Zack suddenly became interested in something and slipped from the captain’s chair like a cat stalking its prey. He paused near the control panel and stared outside. Jackie immediately looked up. She just saw the same woods, but something must have caught his attention.
“What is it?” Jackie asked, desperately wanting to see what he saw.
“Something glistened in the tree line,” he announced while maintaining his stare. “Someone’s out there.”
Jackie sprang from her seat before the control panel and snatched her M416 assault rifle. She aimed it at the window and looked through the scope at the tree line. She frowned and lowered the weapon.
“The scope on this piece of shit isn’t worth a damn,” she informed Zack.
“Our luck. We get low-budget assassins. In order to pick them off from here, you’d have to be out on deck,” Zack replied without taking his eyes from the tree line. “By the time you zeroed in on them, they’d already have you in their crosshairs.”
She eyed him. “You can give me the good news any time now.”
“I’m thinking a play date in the cargo hold,” Zack announced then looked at her and grinned.
“You’re such a predator,” Jackie remarked while making a face.
“Are you coming?” he asked while snatching his assault rifle with a little too much enthusiasm.
“No, I’ll keep look out from here until I see the whites of their eyes,” she replied not sharing his enthusiasm. “Then I’ll alert our shipmates.”
A few minutes after Zack left the bridge by the interior stairs, Jackie saw the first intruder appear from the tree line. She wasn’t surprised that Zack hadn’t been wrong about seeing something. He had eyesight like a hawk. The man dressed in gray camouflage must have thought he was invisible with the way he scurried along the sand remaining close to the ground. Three more men dressed in similar outfits followed. Four would be enough to amuse Zack for a good fifteen minutes. When she didn’t see any others, it was time to alert their fellow survivors of potential danger. With her hand radio smashed, she had no way of alerting Zack to the number of invaders approaching, but he could handle four, so she didn’t need to intervene.
§
Despite Darth’s excitability, Gil was able to keep the dog within view as they hurried through the woods. Kirk and Bogart kept watch behind them to ensure they didn’t have any fans following them from the old airfield. Monroe kept an eye and a gun on their new friend, Tucker, who was possibly a prisoner if the circumstances were right. Sal and Mac remained in the middle of the SEAL team conga line with an awkward silence between them. There wasn’t time for small talk and keeping quiet was necessary, but it was obvious the two were tense in the other’s company. As they got closer to the opposite end of the island, Darth became uncontrollably excited and suddenly took off. Gil didn’t dare call after him, and his soft whistle didn’t bring the dog back. They had to pick up the pace to keep the dog in sight. The sound of movement behind them suddenly alerted Kirk.
“We have company,” Kirk announced loud enough for Gil in the lead to hear.
Without even looking back, Gil, Mac, Bogart, and Monroe, along with his prisoner, dove behind the nearest trees. Sal was left standing on the path with a baffled look when he realized everyone had disappeared. Mac reappeared, grabbed his arm, and pulled him behind a tree with her. They aimed their weapons into the woods behind them and waited. Five or six heavily armed men dressed in black combat gear hurried along the path attempting to make as little noise as possible while searching for someone or something. More than likely, they were searching for the passengers of what they considered an enemy plane.
Mac shifted looks at the others securely hidden behind their trees. The men were nearly statuesque and didn’t make a sound while waiting for those following them to get just close enough. Even Bogart seemed to have learned how to blend into any background. Monroe had mastered keeping a lookout and holding his pistol aimed at Tucker’s head just in case he decided to shout out a warning. They still didn’t know if he could be trusted. When the men were close enough, Monroe signaled the team. He had only taken his eye off Tucker a moment, but that was all the time he needed. Tucker caught Monroe’s wrist, thrusting the gun upward to avoid being shot, and punched him in the abdomen with his free fist.
“It’s a trap,” Tucker shouted as he dove out from behind the tree and rolled across the ground to avoid the barrage of bullets that immediately followed as the team fired upon the armed men.
The men pursuing them fired back and attempted to take cover from the gunfire that seemed to come from out of nowhere. The newly escaped prisoner ran for the pursuing men and safety. He suddenly stopped when he got his first glimpse of the men he had just warned. His expression dropped when he realized he didn’t recognize the pursuing men.
“Are you Cicco’s men?” Tucker suddenly gasped.
The men didn’t bother responding with words and fired several rounds into the former prisoner. Tucker took several shots to his body and fell to the ground. Despite the controlled gunfire on both side’s behalf, the exchange sounded like a warzone. Kirk winged one man partially hidden behind a tree. When he fell backward from the shot, Kirk got him with the second round between the eyes. Mac kept low to the ground behind her tree and attempted to follow the gunfire exchange, but she couldn’t even see the men hiding in the woods. Bullets seemed to be flying from all directions and yet coming from nowhere specific. Mac cursed at her inability to fire back. A bullet splintered the tree near her face. She gasped and took cover behind the tree. She eyed Sal alongside her.
Sal shook his head while clinging to his handgun. “I recommend you don’t do that,” he announced.
Mac ignored Sal and again attempted to follow the action hoping to get a round off. She saw one of the men speaking into a shortwave radio. She flattened her back against the tree and looked across the woods to Monroe.
“Hand radio,” she called out to Monroe then nodded to the tree directly across the woods from her.
Monroe looked at the tree she indicated then eyed Gil and gave a nod. Monroe leaped out from behind his tree, rolled across the ground several times, and allowed the enemy to shoot at him. He landed close to the tree Mac had indicated. As the other men attempted to shoot the moving target, Gil stepped out from behind his tree and fired at the men carelessly firing at Monroe. Kirk and Bogart joined in with the barrage of bullets, taking out both men. Monroe landed in a crouched position and fired at the man with the radio. The bullet hit the radio and entered the man’s face through his cheek. The last man fired at them while attempting to flee. Kirk spun around, caught the man in his sights, and fired several rounds, taking him down. When they were certain the threat had been neutralized, they checked on the dead men.
“Who do you suppose he was radioing?” Sal asked with concern. “Another plane?”
“No that was shortwave radio,” Monroe informed him. “He was calling for backup from his buddies on the plane with him. There’ll be more coming this way if he got that call through. We need to move out.”
“Darth went that way,” Gil announced while indicating the woods to the right. “If we’re lucky; he’ll backtrack when he heard the gunfire.”
Gil hurried through the woods. The others ran after him in hopes of finding the dog that would lead them to Jackie and Zack.
Chapter Thirty-five
The first armed intruder wearing gray camouflage entered the hull through the opening. He looked around the moderately dark area but willingly kept his flashlight off until he reached a secured location behind some crates. He had only taken two steps into the hull when his foot hit a carefully hidden tripwire attached to a gun. The gun fired. The man immediately ducked when he heard the firing gun. A bullet buzzed past him but didn’t even graze him. The bullet ricochet across the hull until it finally hit something wooden. The second man entered the hull while keeping low and looked around.
“Tripwire,” the first man announced just loud enough for his partner to hear.
“Poorly executed,” the second man remarked. “If these guys were any good, you wouldn’t be standing.”
“They weren’t trying to kill someone with it,” the first man insisted. “They knew the bullet would ricochet. It was a crude alarm to warn them of anyone entering. Clever but not very efficient.”
The first man followed the thin wire to the gun mounted on a support beam. He detached the wire from the trigger and removed the gun from the wall while grinning at the second man. He noticed too late that there had been a second wire attached to the gun. When he followed the taut wire back to the support beam, an ax left loose from above and struck him in the face. He twitched and fell to the ground. The second man jumped with surprise and immediately ducked just inside the hull opening. He turned on his flashlight and shined it around the ship’s hull. Despite the mess, there were no other trip wires. The two remaining men joined him at the opening with their weapons aimed.
“What happened?”
“Booby traps,” the second man gasped, still shocked at what he’d witnessed.
It was a gruesome way for his teammate to die. He finally straightened and made his way into the ship. The remaining two men followed him and kept their guns aimed as they scanned the area with their flashlights. Tension was now high. The sound of whistling caught their attention. It seemed to echo from every corner of the hull. The men shined their flashlights around the dark areas to the chilling sound of Chopin’s “Funeral March” being whistled. The second man immediately turned off his flashlight and moved closer to the wall. His two teammates shined their lights around then followed suit and turned them off.
“I don’t think I gave this guy enough credit,” the second man whispered to the others. “He’s messing with us like some psycho killer.”
“You’re overreacting,” the third man responded back, feeling less need to keep his voice down. “They’re glorified bodyguards. The only one with any real military training jumped from the plane before it crashed, and he was just their communications expert. We’re hunting some girl whose father was a Navy SEAL. The rest of the passengers all checked out as your average, everyday people. Only one or two even had any military background.”
“You mean the daughter of a Navy SEAL did that to Lou?” the second man remarked while indicating the dead man with the ax still embedded in his face.
“The girl got lucky,” the third man replied.
The third and fourth man headed through the cargo hold while the second man remained crouched against the wall and appeared deep in thought.
“Wait,” the second man announced, although neither man listened to him. “The man who parachuted from the plane was a retired Navy SEAL as well. If the daughter of a Navy SEAL was also the one who landed the plane, she might be Jackie Remus.”
“So?” the third man replied while continuing through the hull. “What difference does that make?”
“Jackie Remus married a fed,” the second man informed the others as he slowly straightened and looked around, again shining his light into dark corners. “Her father’s SEAL team was Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.”
“So?”
“So?” the second man practically gasped. “If we’re hunting Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, you’d better believe we’re not the ones doing the hunting here.”
The third man groaned. “I told you; the only known threat parachuted from the plane before it crashed.”
The second man remained deep in thought then eyed his teammates across the hull. “Was one of the passengers named Zack?”
“I don’t remember,” the third man replied while scanning the area with his flashlight. “What does that matter?”
“It was rumored that Zack Kinsley never actually died,” the second man responded. “I’ve heard talk that he still travels with his former team under different aliases.”
“Zack Kinsley is an urban legend,” the third man remarked without care. “He’s dead and buried. His own government even wanted him dead. Trust me; he’s dead.”
The fourth man now appeared nervous and shined his light around the hull while turning his back to his partners. A pair of legs swung down from above, circled the third man’s head, and easily snapped his neck creating a horrific crunching sound. The fourth man shined his light toward the sound. He saw his teammate standing before him with a strange look on his face as he swayed a moment before falling to the ground. The fourth man suddenly gasped and shined his light in every direction. He looked above him to the support beam. There was nothing there.
“He’s dead,” the fourth man called back to the second man by the hull opening.
When his teammate didn’t respond, he looked back toward the opening. The second man was now sitting against the wall with a knife stuck in his throat and a fixed look of horror on his face. The fourth man shined his light around the area. When he didn’t see anything move, he darted for the opening in the hull and ran back onto the beach. Once outside the ship, he spun around and aimed his weapon at the opening. Apart from the deck over three stories from the ground, there was no other way out of the grounded ship.
Several shots were fired at him from the opening in the hull. He cried out with surprise and leaped backward before exchanging gunfire. He then saw the barrel of the rifle poking through the hull. The fourth intruder aimed and fired, striking the sniper in the shoulder. There was a loud grunt as the man fell backward into the hull. The fourth man immediately hurried for the opening with his weapon aimed and stepped back into the hull. He hovered over the fallen man, prepared to put a second round into him, when he realized it was his own teammate on the floor whom he’d shot in the shoulder. He stared at his dead teammate while attempting to put it together. He realized too late that his already dead teammate had been used as a decoy.
