Arctic Fire (42 page)

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Authors: Stephen W. Frey

BOOK: Arctic Fire
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“She killed one of my men. She had it coming.”

“Too bad she didn’t kill you too.”

Maddux moved several steps over so that he was standing in front of Jack. “This won’t go well for you, and you have your brother to thank.”

“Fuck you, Maddux,” Jack said defiantly, making certain the little man understood that he knew his name. “Do you really feel OK about killing that poor woman upstairs?”

“She’s inconsequential to my life or to the well-being of the United States.” He raised both eyebrows and shrugged. “She had to die for the good of the whole. It’s as simple as that.” He shook his head. “She was probably a criminal, anyway. So we’re better off without her.”

“You’re sick. I feel bad for you.”

“Don’t feel too bad, because I’m going to—”

Maddux’s words were drowned out by the blast of a large-caliber bullet. The man clutching the machine gun stumbled back against the wall, spraying the ceiling with bullets as his finger constricted on the trigger.

As the machine-gun fire stopped, an older man stepped through the front door into the living room, aimed a revolver at the masked man, and calmly fired a head shot. Blood exploded from the man’s head, and he keeled over limply as the older man swung his gun smoothly at Maddux.

“You bastard,” the old man whispered. “That woman you killed upstairs was my wife.”

Jack trained the .44-caliber Magnum on Maddux, who was now tied to the same chair Jack had been tied to only minutes before. Troy had lashed Maddux to the chair and then told Jack to watch him carefully before going somewhere with the old man. “Where’s Karen?” he asked.

Maddux laughed loudly. “You’ll never get anything from me I don’t want you to get.”

“Where the hell is she?” Jack demanded again.

“You’re wasting your time,” Maddux retorted arrogantly.

“He’s right,” Troy said as he moved through the front doorway and into the living room. He was followed by the old man, who gazed at Maddux sullenly while he stood over the body of the man he’d shot a few minutes ago. “You’re wasting your time, Jack.”

“So what do we do?”

Troy lifted the crude wooden box he was carrying and gestured at Maddux. “Get him to tell us everything we want to know.”

“You just said it was a waste of time trying to get him to talk.”

“No. I said what
you
were doing was a waste of time. But I know how to get to him.”

“We’re not torturing him,” Jack said firmly, stepping between Troy and Maddux. “We’re not torturing anyone.”

“We’re doing what we need to do, Jack. Get out of my way.”

“No.”

“Are you out of your mind?” the old man asked incredulously. “This guy killed my wife. There really isn’t anything left of her upstairs. I saw a few fingers and a leg, but nothing else I recognized as human. That’s all I have left of her, and you have sympathy for him?”

“I have no sympathy for him at all,” Jack assured the older man compassionately. “But we can’t sink to his level. We have to do the right thing here.”

Troy stepped toward Maddux, but Jack intercepted him. They were standing face-to-face in the middle of the room.

“I’m not letting you do this,” Jack said evenly. “I don’t know what you think you’re gonna do to him, but I can’t let you do it. We have to let the system work, Troy.”

“There is no system for a man like Shane Maddux. Who would we turn him over to? He has immunity from everything, Jack. He really is bulletproof, at least from the United States government. If they prosecute him, every other agent who has his kind of immunity quits because they can’t trust what they’ve been told, and then the country’s fucked. Believe me when I tell you that we’d have chaos on our hands if that happened. There are plenty of very brave men and women out there protecting us who need that immunity. Our enemies would take immediate advantage of it if we took it away from them.” Troy shook his head. “Shane Maddux will never be prosecuted for anything, Jack. He’ll go free a day after we turn him over to the authorities, if not sooner. Then you and I are fucked.” He pointed at Maddux. “Because that man would never stop looking for us until he found us and killed us.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jack,” Maddux called defiantly from the chair. “Let him torture me.” He laughed loudly. “He won’t get anything out of me.”

“You can’t imagine what that guy was going to do to you,” Troy said, nodding over Jack’s shoulder at Maddux. “And he wouldn’t have given a damn about how much pain he was causing you. In fact, he would have enjoyed watching you suffer.”

“I don’t care.” Jack couldn’t give in to this. It went against everything he believed in.

“Just like I don’t care about what’s happening to Karen right now,” Maddux said. He laughed harshly. “They’ve probably got her bent over something and they’re all taking turns on her. I just wish I could too. But I’ll get my chance at some point. Troy’s right. I have immunity from
everything
.”

“Get out of my way,” Troy ordered.

“I bet they’re doing her real good right now!” Maddux shouted at Jack. “And there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s just got to take all of them any way they want to take her and deal with it.”

Jack shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out what Maddux was yelling.

“And then they’ll kill her real slow when they’re done with her,” Maddux continued. “So maybe I won’t get my chance with Karen after all. But that’s OK. I’ll just do it to some other bitch I feel like doing it to. Yeah, I’ll do it to—”

“Shut up, Maddux!” Jack shouted. “
Shut your fucking mouth!

“What’s wrong with you, Jack?” the old man demanded. “How can you protect this prick? Did you hear what he just said?”

“He can handle doing nothing because he’s a goddamned faggot!” Maddux roared. “That’s what’s wrong with Jack Jensen.”

Jack clenched his teeth, calling on all of his self-control. “Let’s just get him out of here and turn him over to someone.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? There’s no one to turn him over to.” Troy shook his head. “Jackson, what’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t let you do it, Troy.”

“But I can,” the old man said firmly, placing the barrel of his pistol against Jack’s head. “Give up your weapon,” he demanded calmly, “or I shoot. I swear to God I shoot. I can’t watch this any longer. Five, four—”

“Give me the gun, Jack!” Troy shouted. “Don’t let him shoot you. He just lost his wife. He’s not thinking straight. He’s gonna kill you, for Christ’s sake.”

“Three, two—”

“Jack!
Drop the fucking gun.

“One—”

Jack’s gun banged loudly on the floor after he dropped it.

“You did the right thing,” Troy muttered breathlessly. “Now get out of my way.”

Jack turned around and watched Troy approach Maddux. He could barely feel the steel barrel of the pistol the old man was still holding to his head. He could barely feel anything at this point. He was completely numb, physically and emotionally.

“What do you think you’re gonna do with that?” Maddux asked smugly, staring at the wooden box in Troy’s hands.

Troy smiled thinly. “I found your diary, and shame on you for keeping one. You always told us Falcons never to write anything down. But you broke your own rule, and now you’re going to pay.” Troy held the box up so Maddux could get an even better look at it. “I just made this thing, and I know it doesn’t look very good. But it’ll work just fine.” He placed the box on the seat of the empty chair beside the one Maddux was lashed to and pulled a dark plastic trash bag from his back pocket. “Now,” Troy said calmly, “tell me what I want to know.”

“Fuck you, asshole. You’ll never get anything out of me and you know it.”

They were defiant words, but Jack had seen a chink in Maddux’s armor. He’d seen that slight wince as Maddux looked at the box sitting on the chair beside his.

“Where’s Karen?” Troy asked as he opened the bag. “Tell me now or I put you in that tiny, tiny space you can’t stand. The same tiny space that priest put you in when you weren’t a good little boy. When you wouldn’t do all those terrible things he wanted you to do in that room beneath the altar.”

Maddux licked his lips over and over and shook his head hard. “No. Fuck you.”

Jack saw how fast Maddux was starting to breathe. Troy was getting to him.

“Where and when is President Dorn going to be shot?” Troy demanded. “Is there another LNG tanker coming at the United States? Where’s Karen? Tell me everything, Shane, or your head goes in the box. That hole in the bottom of it is for your neck. See, I put the bag over your head, then the box over the bag, and suddenly you’re in that closet that priest made you go in.”

“No, no!” Maddux shouted as he began to strain frantically against the ropes holding him to the chair.

“Claustrophobia,” Troy hissed. “That’s what’s waiting for you inside the bag and the box. You can’t take the tiny, dark spaces. I know it because I read it on those pages. You did all those terrible things for the priest because you couldn’t handle the darkness in the closet, and you hated the way you thought the walls were coming in on you. Like he told you they were. You couldn’t handle the thought of him making you go back in there.” Troy moved toward Maddux with the bag wide open. “And you still can’t.” He hesitated a few inches away as Maddux strained desperately against the ropes and moved his head wildly from side to side. “
Now where’s Karen?

“Fuck you! Fuck you!”

Jack grimaced as he watched Troy roughly pull the bag down over Maddux’s head. Then Troy picked up the box off the chair, closed it on Maddux’s head using the hinges, and hooked it shut.

For several seconds Maddux managed to remain calm. Then he began to shout and scream from beneath the bag and the box, and suddenly he and the chair went tumbling over. As he hit the floor, his screams grew louder.

Instinctively, Jack took a step forward to help.

“Don’t move,” the old man ordered, grabbing Jack’s arm and pulling him back. “Stay right where you are, son.”

After listening to thirty seconds of screaming and shouting, Troy removed the wooden box from Maddux’s head and then pulled the bag off. “Now talk,” he ordered firmly. “Tell me everything.”

Maddux couldn’t spill his guts fast enough. In a matter of seconds he’d told them everything.

First, he told them where Karen had been taken. Then he gave them details of President Dorn’s imminent assassination. Then he told them that the
Pegasus
was heading for Virginia Beach, not Savannah, and that the huge ship had almost reached its target.

When Maddux was finished answering Troy’s questions, Jack stepped forward as the old man let the gun barrel drop. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the bastard who was still sprawled on the floor tied to the chair. “I’ve got one more question.”

After Maddux had answered it, Jack glanced at Troy. “What now?”

“We find the
Arctic Fire
. Fast!”

“How?”

“We take that chopper outside.”

“Can you fly it?” Jack asked incredulously.

“I sure can, Jackson.” Troy smiled. “I can fly almost anything.”

The leader of the small band of desperate men sailing the huge ship westward gazed ahead through the darkness. The
Pegasus
was only hours from reaching the Atlantic Coast of the United States of America. They were going to make it after all. He could feel it.

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