Fallen Masters (52 page)

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around and smile. I’ll take your picture.”

Dawson turned around with a confused look on his face, then when he saw Bobby he smiled and started toward him with his hand extended.

“Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“You’ve got luggage?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Let’s get it. I’ve got a car outside.”

“Let me guess. It’s about a mile away, right?”

Bobby chuckled. “You know the best thing about being an FBI agent? I have a little shield on my car that lets me park any damn place I want. Right now it’s in the taxi queue.”

“Ha! You don’t have to have all those perks if you have a friend who does.”

A few minutes later, as waiting taxi drivers glared at them, Dawson threw his luggage in the trunk of Bobby’s white Ford car rental.

CHAPTER

94

Bobby’s phone was ringing just as he pulled away from the curb in front of baggage claim, and the Bluetooth picked it up.

“Anderson.”

“This is your Mama G,” came the unmistakable lilting voice. “I’m on my way. But that’s not important now. You need to be at 1512 Jesse Street.”

“What?”

“I’ll say it one more time: 1512 Jesse Street. I would bet my life—and yours—that that poor boy is there. Don’t you worry about Mama. I will meet up with you soon. I can’t stay on the line right now because you have to
go
!”

“Hello?” There was no answer. “You still there?” Bobby asked. There was no further response. She had hung up. He was anxious to see her.

“That was strange,” Bobby said as he punched off the call. “It was Mama G. She gave me an address.”

“Do you know that area?” Dawson asked.

“Yeah, it’s all warehouses.”

“Well, if you don’t think it is anything real, I need to get to the hotel and take a shower. I am positively rank.”

Bobby said, “Yeah, you are. But we have to move. Mama G made it sound as if this is as real as it gets, and if she is right, we have a shot at getting the boy.”

“Next time you are cooped up for sixteen hours on an airplane, see how good you smell. What was the address Mama G told you, 1512 Jesse Street?”

“Yes. Put it in the GPS while I’m driving.”

Dawson did, and the GPS displayed the route immediately.

Bobby pointed to the glove compartment. “There’s a rotating red and blue light in there. Get it out, plug it into the cigarette lighter, then set it up on the dash as close to the windshield as you can get it.”

Dawson got the light out, but even before he had it plugged in, Bobby was doing ninety miles per hour on the 105 Freeway.

*   *   *

Mama G held the phone in her hand. She had set one pair of hands to do the Lord’s work but she realized that her job was not yet done. Suddenly a scene popped into her head and she punched up her database and located Rae Loona’s cell phone number.…

*   *   *

Rae and Tyler, having been given their own instructions from Mama G, arrived at a warehouse at 1512 Jesse Street.

“Look there, Mikey,” Rae said, pointing to a group of men who were just on the other side of the barbed wire–enclosed compound. “They’re wearin’ army suits.”

“Uniforms,” Tyler said. “They are called uniforms.”

“Yeah, well, whatever they are, what are they doing there? They are American soldiers, aren’t they?”

“Yes. You think the President’s kid is really there?”

“That’s what Mama G said. And she hasn’t been wrong yet. She also told me…”

“What? What else did she say?”

“That someone will die. She has this idea that there is a whole army behind the abduction and—well, everything else. Anyhow, something is there, that’s for sure. I can’t see any other reason to have a bunch of soldiers walking around carrying machine guns right in the middle of the Los Angeles Warehouse District.”

They sat there for several minutes as one Humvee arrived; a moment later, that same Humvee left. As each vehicle entered or left, the guard pushed a button that rolled the gate open, then shut.

“What is in there?” Tyler asked.

“I think it’s the President’s kid,” Rae said.

“I wonder if there is another way in.”

“We aren’t supposed to do anything yet, remember? We have to wait until all the keys fall into place,” Rae said. “Mama G told me we were to wait until we see a wolf. Then after the wolf, we’ll hear three gunshots.” Rae saw the look on his face. “I know how it sounds to you, but that’s what she told me.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes me think this whole thing is just some crazy idea,” Tyler said. “I mean, how likely are we to see a wolf? We’re in downtown Los Angeles, for crying out loud.”

“Downtown Los Angeles? It sure doesn’t look all that glamorous, does it? All I see is a bunch of warehouses and factories.”

“That’s because we are in the Warehouse District.”

The two sat in the SUV with the windows rolled down for several more minutes. A large eighteen-wheeler rumbled by on Imperial Street, and a train sounded its horn on the nearby railroad tracks.

*   *   *

Inside the warehouse, Marcus lay on his cot with his hands laced behind his head.

First Lieutenant Jeff Kirby came into the cell and looked down at him. “Are you afraid?” Kirby asked.

“No,” Marcus answered.

“How is it that you aren’t afraid? Don’t you know that you may be killed, sacrificed to a greater order?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know this?”

“I know this because my father told me.”

“What do you mean, your father told you?”

“I spoke to him.” Marcus was having difficulty shifting from one reality to another—from being a prisoner to being free. And from being the victim to being the messenger. When he could breathe and think, he could see a bit more clearly.… He had, after all, been to “kidnapping camp” and he had been in touch with POTUS, and there were forces at work that not everyone knew about—yet—who were at war with one another. Even the “bad guys” in this incident thought they were doing good, having been influenced by the negative energy that so effectively corrupted people.

Marcus continued: “From the Other Side. He comes to me. He speaks to me. I am the Key.”

“The key to what?”

“The Key that will unlock the forces of good to overcome the forces of evil.”

“Who are the forces of evil?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been told. But I know that there are Dark Forces on this side and the other side that are evil, energies who want to destroy our world.”

Kirby stroked his chin. “Do you think I’m evil?”

“He is not evil, but he is serving the forces of evil,”
POTUS said.

Marcus repeated his father’s words: “You are not evil, but you are serving the forces of evil.”

“No, I’m not. We have to hold you here to protect you, don’t you see. We aren’t your kidnappers, we are your protectors.”

“Ask him if he really believes that.”

“Do you really believe you are my protector and not my jailer?”

“I—I just looked in to see if I could do anything for you.”

“Yes, you can. You can take me back home.”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

*   *   *

Lieutenant Kirby stepped out of the boy’s cell, locked the door behind him, then walked down to the little room that had been established as the orderly room.

Marcus had called him a jailer. Though he had dismissed the idea in that moment, it now came back to him as he saw what was happening here through new eyes. Marcus had kept his cool—remarkably for such a young person—and acted like he was being “protected” by an unseen hand. Whose hand? A small but powerful voice inside him was speaking more loudly now.
Release the boy. This is
wrong.
It is up to you.

He would have to override all his training and upbringing to do what he knew was right. He would have to make a choice … the most difficult choice of his life.

Colonel Boyle was sitting at a desk, reading a magazine and listening to a CD of Charlene St. John.

“How’s the kid doing?” Colonel Boyle asked.

“Colonel, are we his protectors? Or are we his kidnappers?”

“What difference does it make?” Colonel Boyle asked.

“It makes all the difference in the world. I was told that after the President was killed, there was a plot to kill the child as well.”

“What would be the purpose of killing him? He’s worthless to us dead.”

“Worthless to us? I don’t even know what that means. Worthless to us.”

“Think about it, Lieutenant. You can’t be all that dumb or you never would have gotten your commission. As long as we have the kid, we can exert pressure.”

“Pressure on who, to do what?”

“Pressure on the powers that be to do anything we want.” Colonel Boyle smiled at Lieutenant Kirby, but it was a grim smile, completely without humor or mirth.

“No,” Kirby said, holding out his hand, palm forward. He started backing away from the colonel. “No, I don’t want any part of this!”

“It’s too late, Lieutenant. You are a part of this now. Whatever happens, you own it.”

“No!” Kirby said. “I’m not going to let you get away with this. I’m not going to be involved in the killing of the President’s son.”

“What are you talking about? We’re not going to kill him. I told you, he is much more valuable to us alive than he is dead.”

“I’m not going to let you use him, either. This has to stop here and now. I have reason not to trust our orders, Colonel.” He had removed his service pistol from its holster and held it at his side.

“Son, it doesn’t matter who gives the orders. We’re just here to obey them, soldier!”

“I’m doing what needs to be done.” He did not intend to use the gun—unless he had to—but he would go down fighting if he had to in order to stop this.

“You are insane! Put that gun away! Guard!” Boyle shouted. He held out his left hand in a defensive mode but shifted and used his right hand to pull his own gun up at the same time.

*   *   *

In the SUV parked outside the warehouse, Rae looked through the windshield and saw a gray canine run across Mateo Street, then up Jesse Street. “Mikey, look! That’s a wolf!”

“It’s a coyote, but that’s close enough,” Tyler said. “If we hear three shots, I’m going to…”

Even before Tyler finished his sentence, they heard two shots.

*   *   *

Kirby shot Colonel Boyle in the leg—not to kill—then, when the guard came running in, in response to Boyle’s shout, Kirby shot him as well, also to wound rather than to kill.

*   *   *

“That’s only two shots,” Tyler said.

“Who’s counting, for crying out loud?” Rae said. “We’ve seen a wolf, and we heard two shots.”

*   *   *

Inside the compound, inside the warehouse, Lieutenant Kirby looked at the two men he had just shot and knew that he had reached the point of no return. He put the barrel of the pistol to his temple, held it there for a moment, then moved it down to his chest and pulled the trigger.

*   *   *

“You wanted three shots, you’ve got three shots,” Rae said.

“Damn!” Tyler said.

“That’s it! We’ve got to get in there!” Rae said as she opened the door and jumped out of the SUV.

“Rae, wait!” Tyler called, but she paid no attention to him and moved quickly toward the gate.

“Open that gate and let me in!” she called to the guard.

“No, ma’am! This is a restricted area!” a young man in a private’s uniform replied. “No civilians are allowed inside.”

“Someone was just shot in there,” Rae said. “Didn’t you hear the shooting?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“That don’t matter whether you are a nurse or not. I can’t let you in.”

“Look here, sonny,” Rae said with as much authority as she could master. “Do you see that black Escalade sitting over there? There is a cameraman in there right now, and he is taping this. Now you’ve got two choices: You can either let us in to tend to the wounded, or you can watch this whole episode on the six o’clock local news tonight. Local my foot. I know you’ve got the President’s son in there. This will be on every national and international news service in the world, and your butt will be toast in a couple of hours if you don’t let us in.”

The young guard looked at the angry expression on Rae’s face; then he glanced over at the black Escalade. That was when he made his decision. He pushed a button in the guardhouse, and the gate began to draw open.

Rae ran back to the SUV. “Come on, Mikey! We’ve got to get in there!”

Tyler looked at Rae in astonishment. “Damn, Rae, I’ve seen you do some difficult things before. But this wasn’t difficult, this was impossible. How on earth did you do that? What did you say to the guard?”

“I can’t be giving you all my secrets now, can I, Mikey? I have my ways. Come on, let’s go in before that kid at the gate changes his mind.”

As Tyler got out of the car to join Rae, a white Ford raced through the open door, then skidded to a stop. Bobby and Dawson got out of the car and came under fire as soon as they did so. Bobby returned fire, killed one of the guards, and wounded the other.

“Where’s the kid?” Bobby shouted to the gate guard, who had thrown his weapon down and put his hands up.

“Who are you?” the young gate guard asks.

“FBI.”

“What are you doing here? We’re protecting him.”

Lieutenant Kirby came staggering out of the warehouse then, holding his hand over a bleeding wound in his chest.

“The boy is inside,” Kirby said. “At the back of the building, last door on the left. Here is the key.”

Bobby took the key from him.

“Lieutenant, what’s going on? Why are you giving up the boy?” the guard asked.

“Don’t you know? We weren’t protecting him. We were holding him prisoner.”

Kirby leaned back against the wall, then slid down as blood spilled through his fingers.

Tyler rushed over to him. The first thing he did was make certain the tongue was out of the way so Kirby could still breathe. Then he applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Call 911,” Tyler said.