Critical Error (6 page)

He looked at the wheezing and gasping group that lay before him. Summer had obviously made them lazy. Before the vacation, they would have bounded up the hill with ease. He had some work to do. He should have taken them another mile or so but the car was playing on his mind. Something was wrong. He thought his past was behind him, why would they come now, he tried to think rationally, it didn’t make sense, after three years there would be no reason to come for him. He considered going on but the car worried him.

“We’ll head back now.”

A small cheer went through the group. They had all expected the worst. Sam was tough. He hadn’t produced two state cross-country champions by being soft.

“It’s only half a mile, so we’ll run back. Now GO!”

Sam took off on the word ‘go’ and left them all in his wake. At 45, he was still as fit as he had ever been. It was just the aches and pains that were more noticeable. He had always been fanatical about fitness and thanks to that, he still passed for a man ten years younger. That was perhaps the only reason the beautiful twenty-eight year-old ninth grade teacher had ever fallen for him and made him the happiest man alive with the birth of his son, Sam Junior, only ten months earlier.

Sam’s breathing began to quicken, his heart rate raced, it wasn’t just himself he had to worry about any more. The game had changed, if he made a mistake in the past he would pay the price but that had changed with the birth of his son. Sam quickened his pace as the vision of the car played in his mind. Something was wrong.

Sam was way ahead of the nearest student and raced past the school. He sprinted down Main Street and stopped in his tracks as he spotted the car parked opposite the town’s main harbor. The Virginia plates brought back memories he had hoped to bury forever. Something was definitely wrong.

“Did you see who was driving this car?” he asked one of the local fishermen who stood nearby, forgetting the normal pleasantries.

“Good Morning, Sam. Can’t say I did but I did notice some fellas hiring one of those fancy speedboats from Jim.”

Without a word, Sam ran to the end of the pier, just in time to see the speedboat disappear into the distance. The blood drained from Sam’s face as the realization of the danger his family faced hit him. A wave of nausea was quelled as his training kicked in, he had to be strong, he had to protect his family. Sam ran back to the small booth covered in posters advertising everything from small sailing dinghies to whale spotting cruises.

“Jim, where are they going?” Sam pointed to where the speedboat had been.

“Morning Sam, sorry no idea. They just wanted to tour the island, I think. Why?”

“How many and what did they look like?” he asked firmly.

“Four big fellas. Come to think of it, they weren’t really dressed for the weather. You know that wind’s a bit nippy this time of year. Is everything OK Sam? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, no, I’m fine. Have you got another speed boat?”

“’Fraid not, that’s the only one. The rest are all up at the yard being serviced, end of season and all.” Seeing the look of desperation on Sam’s face, he added “I’ve got a small launch, only 10hp but it’s faster than rowing.”

“That’ll do!”

Two minutes later, Sam was in the launch and turning the throttle as far as it would go. Three years earlier, Sam had stumbled across a small rundown shack on Goat Island and for the first time in almost 25 years, he had somewhere he could call home. Goat Island lay just a mile off the far end of the island and was one of the reasons Sam had maintained his fitness. Every day, he rowed to the main island and then ran the length of the island to school and back again in the evening which was a ten mile round trip. By boat from the harbor, it was seven miles and, at twelve knots, was going to take him just over half an hour. The speedboat could do twenty-five knots and already had a five minute head start. They were going to arrive at least twenty minutes ahead of him.

The speedboat cut its engines long before it arrived at Goat Island. The four men were taking no chances as they rowed the final half-mile to the small island. They saw the tell-tale smoke sign telling them someone was home. They approached from the rear and already had their guns out and ready as they rowed the final few yards. As two stood guard, the other two pulled the small craft onto the shingle beach. The chimney of the house was just visible above the small hill that lay between the beach and the house.

Before they could secure the boat, a large golden retriever came bounding over the hill, tail wagging as it rushed towards the new visitors. Without hesitation, the first man raised a silenced pistol and as the dog bounded toward him, shot it once in the head. The dog fell silently, a look of shock on its frozen face.

“What the hell did you do that for, Alex?” whispered the second man standing guard.

“If it barked, we’d be dead. You have no fucking idea who we’re dealing with, do you?” replied Alex angrily.

“I know he used to be something.”

Alex just shook his head and ensuring the boat was secure, waved the other men on, fanning out as they neared the brow of the hill. On reaching the top, the view below revealed a small wooden cabin and a shadow passing by the window told them all they needed to know. He was in.

The four men took aim and unleashed a brutal wave of bullets from their assault weapons. Glass and wood splintered and shattered everywhere as the bullets tore through the flimsy wooden structure. As one magazine emptied, another was loaded, until over 400 rounds had been pumped into the small cabin. Even a mouse would have struggled to hide from the onslaught. The noise was deafening. Although, with no landmass within a mile, it was as though nothing had happened.

An eerie silence fell as each of the four guns halted. Shards of glass dropped and shattered every few seconds as the house settled into its new state. Alex was the first to move, tentatively making his way towards the front door which hung awkwardly as one hinge struggled to hold its weight. One kick sent it crashing to the ground. The small lounge was a sea of feathers, floating aimlessly as the air blew through the aerated room. He walked across the lounge and entered the kitchen at the rear of the house and spotted the young and beautiful woman sitting on the floor holding a baby in her arms, her lifeless face looking longingly into the shattered bloodied body of her child.

A scream from outside told him instantly this wasn’t the only mistake they had made.

Sam’s launch rounded the headland of North Haven Island and almost came to stop as he left the relative shelter of the North Haven and Vinalhaven Islands and out into the main bay. The waves battered the small launch and Sam could only pull the throttle harder in a vain attempt to close the mile and a half distance to home. After what seemed like hours, the outline of the speedboat came into view just as the deafening sound of gunfire ripped through the air. Sam twisted the throttle further. The knot in his stomach released. His worst fears had come true. They had found him.

As each shot rang out, adrenalin pumped through his veins and with each bullet, the feeling of impotence flowed through him. His wife and child needed him and he was failing them. As the launch mounted the beach next to the speedboat, the gunfire stopped and silence fell. Sam bounded out of the launch and almost stumbled over his dog, its blank eyes staring up at him. Tears streamed down his face, Sam loved three things more than life itself and Goldie was on that list. Until ten months earlier, she had been top of the list but now she sat firmly at number two.

Sam hardly missed a beat as he stormed to the top of the hill. Three men stood watching the house as another made his way towards the front door. Sam ignored the state of the house as his only focus was overcoming the men and ensuring his family were safe. He ran around the hill and approached from the rear, sprinting down the hill out of the sight of the three guards and grabbed his wood axe as he ran past his firewood stockpile. With three heavily armed men on the other side of the house, he had only one advantage, surprise.

As the front door crashed to the ground, Sam ran round the side of the house and at full sprint, ran at the first guard, the axe swinging in a powerful arc. Sam leapt up and using all of his 6’ 2” frame to maximize the force at which the axe fell, the razor sharp blade sliced through the man’s neck at a forty five degree angle and removed not only his head but right arm in one fluid motion. As the axe cleared the man’s torso, Sam spun round and sent the axe flying end over end into the second guard standing directly in front of the door. A short scream was instantly silenced as the axe embedded itself into the man’s stunned face, killing him instantly. Sam was rolling back towards the head and right arm of the first guard and his XM8 assault rifle even before the axe had landed.

By the time the third guard had managed to react to the deaths of his colleagues, it was too late. Sam already had him in his sights and was squeezing the trigger. A three round burst ended the encounter and dropped the last guard where he stood.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He ran and dived through the front door and into the lounge just as Alex rushed towards him and the butt of his gun. Alex’s face hit the immovable force and stopped dead despite the momentum. His cheek and nose bore the full brunt of the collision while his body continued its forward motion, crumpled to the floor and landed at Sam’s feet.

Sam stamped on Alex’s right hand, crushing the bones, rendering it useless. He kicked the gun from the man’s hand before walking into the kitchen and seeing his worst nightmare. The lifeless bodies of his wife and son sat awkwardly under the window. Sam turned and walked back to the last of the four men. Tears streamed down his face as the memories of his wife and son flashed through his mind.

A kick to the ribs brought the man round.

“Who sent you?”

“You know who sent us!” replied Alex who already knew he was dead.

“Who gave the order?”

“I don’t know.”

Sam stamped on Alex’s hand, grinding it further into the floor.

“Who?”

“I don…”

Sam raised the gun and shot Alex’s kneecap clean off. Alex passed out almost instantly from the intense pain but was kicked back to consciousness.

“Who?”

“I really don’t know,” struggled Alex through gritted teeth, the pain unbearable.

“Well you’re absolutely fuck all use to me!” spat Sam as he shot the other kneecap.

Sam walked outside and taking a shovel, he began to dig, ignoring the screams from Alex. Within twenty minutes, he hit metal. Ten minutes later, he had retrieved a trunk that he had hoped he would never see again. Pulling the trunk from the hole, he loaded three of the bodies into the now empty hole and covered them with earth, carefully replacing the turf on top. Comfortable the hole wouldn’t be found, he walked back to the shingle beach and retrieved Goldie and carried her back to the cabin, placing her carefully at his wife and son’s sides.

Kissing them all goodbye, Sam stood up and walked out of the kitchen. He doused the cabin in petrol and with a heavy heart and vengeance in his mind, he set fire to his family and home. The final screams of Alex reverberated around the small island as the cabin burned to the ground.

Sam Baker was back and all hell was about to break loose.

“Mr Chairman?”

The Senior Senator for Montana and current Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee for Defense turned in the corridor and was met by the sight of an exceedingly attractive young woman dressed from head to toe in Armani. He knew it was Armani because his wife refused to wear anything else. The tall and athletic blonde was drawing more than a few admiring glances from the Senator’s aides.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Special Agent Clark, Amy Clark.”

“How can I help, Agent Clark?”

Special Agent Clark took the Chairman by the elbow and led him conspiratorially away from his three aides. Looking around to check no one was listening, she turned back to the Chairman. As she did so, the Chairman noticed a small coiled cable running to her ear.

“Mr Chairman, we’ve received a direct threat to your life,” she said calmly.

“By
we
, you mean?”

“Sorry, Secret Service.”

The Chairman smiled knowingly. “I’m getting three death threats a week at the moment. What’s so special about this one that it caught the SS’s attention?”

“I’m not aware of the detail, Sir. I’ve just been instructed to place you under Secret Service protection because of a plausible threat to your life.”

“I’ve always been told that the people we should worry about are those who don’t issue threats.”

“Not entirely true, Sir.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Clark, but the last thing I need just now is the Secret Service surrounding me at every turn. Anyway, people will think it’s a gimmick and I’m over inflating my importance before the nominations are concluded. I’m sorry but I’ll have to decline the offer.”