Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent (13 page)

The second agent had seen enough and moved to intercede. Bishop felt what seemed like two steel bands wrap around his chest. Sensing instantly what was happening, Bishop lifted both feet off the ground, the shift in weight causing his captor to lean forward for balance.

When he felt the agent tip forward, Bishop pushed down hard with both legs as if he was trying to jump while tilting his head backwards. The maneuver worked, the back of Bishop’s head slamming into the agent’s nose and causing him to release the hold.

Powell took advantage of the distraction and was on top of Bishop before the blood had even begun to run out of his partner’s broken snout. Powell and Bishop hit the ground rolling, grunting and cursing. Blows sounded from the fray, the dim illumination of the parking lot lights revealing a swirling ball of limbs, fists, and legs.

A gaggle of MPs rushed to the scene and attempted to pull the two men apart. In a few moments, both combatants were on their feet, a military policeman holding each arm and leg. Bishop immediately relaxed, moving his hands into a “don’t shoot” position. “I’m done . . . I’m done . . . it’s okay guys … really … I’m cool,” he announced, smiling.

The two MPs restraining
Bishop’s arms looked at each other and then loosened their grips, thinking cooler heads were prevailing. Without warning, Bishop’s right fist shot out, striking Powell squarely in the jaw and rocking the agent’s head backwards. “Bitch,” he hissed at Powell as the MPs struggled to control and separate the two surging men.

Westfield stepped between the
m and shouted, “Enough!”

In a calmer voice, the general continued. “I’ve let you two blow off some steam, but this ends right now, or I’ll have both of you in irons and enjoying a night in my brig.”

Powell and Bishop nodded their acceptance of the general’s wishes, and with trepidation, the MPs loosened their holds.

Bishop
noticed Terri standing nearby, her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. Glancing over his shoulder to keep an eye on the untrustworthy Powell, Bishop approached his wife.

Terri shook her head, “Assaulted any federal agents lately, my love?”

“He deserved it,” Bishop replied, wiping the blood from his lip on a shirtsleeve.

“We can talk about
that
later. Right now, let’s get inside so I can look you over.”

“I’m fine,” Bishop claimed, spitting a mouthful of blood into the grass and eyeing Powell again.

“Uh huh. Come on, Bishop. Let’s get in the light.”

Hooking her husband by the arm, Terri pulled Bishop back into room #12.

Thirty minutes later, Westfield, a bandaged Powell, and two burly MPs entered #12. They found Bishop perched on the bed, supervising as Terri repacked his blowout bag. Two butterfly bandages and a greasy antibiotic crème accented Bishop’s scowl as he looked up.

The base commander wasted no time
. “Gentlemen, we need to talk this out. Bishop, you think Powell did something to cause the attempt on your life tonight, but frankly I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

“Seems like one hell of a coincidence, sir. Agent Powell approached me about using Terri as bait just this afternoon, and a few hours later, someone busts into our room and starts shooting. One hell of a parallel
, if you ask me, sir.”

Powell looked at both Bishop and Terri and defended himself. “Yes, I did suggest that in a moment of desperation, but I didn’t act upon it. You were right, Bishop. It was a stupid idea.”

Bishop shook his head in disgust, “I’m not buying it. No way. You can’t really expect me to believe a couple of rogue men loyal to the Independents took it upon themselves to come after us. Why would they do that? The president’s dead.”

Powell spread his hands in exasperation
. “Bishop, there could be a dozen reasons why someone tried to kill you guys. I’m telling you straight up, I didn’t do anything after we talked.”

Terri interrupted, “Why are you guys saying
the Independents tried to kill the president? He told me they had nothing to do with it.”

Every head in the room snapped in Terri’s direction, Powell and Bishop both uttering “What?” at the same time.

“The president told me while we were walking. He told me he knew who tried to kill him, and that it wasn’t the Independents.”

Westfield took a step toward Terri, the woman clearly confused over why everyone was staring at her. “Terri,” the general said, “this is very important. What exactly did
the president say to you?”

The intensity of everyone’s reaction made Terri uncomfortable, and she moved to Bishop’s side, reaching
for his hand. “We were walking . . . the president and I were walking through Alpha right before he was shot. I asked him if there were going to be a civil war, and he said no. He went on to say that he was going to reach out to the Independents like Bishop and the colonel had suggested before things got worse.”

Terri glanced around the room, realizing everyone was hanging on her next statement. “I told
the president that he was a bigger human being than I was. I said if someone tried to kill me, I wouldn’t be so forgiving. He smiled at me and told me the Independents hadn’t tried to kill him, but he knew who was behind the attempt. He said he would bring them to justice in due course. Those were his exact words.”

“Holy shit,” grunted Powell, and turned away.

Terri looked at Bishop with pleading eyes. “I don’t understand. Bishop, did I do something wrong?”

Bishop patted Terri’s hand
. “No, baby. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.”

Westfield’s voice became gentle, “Terri, now this next part is critical. Did
the president say who had tried to kill him?”

Thinking for a moment, Terri responded shyly. “No, no he didn’t. That man popped up right then and began shooting.”

“I wish we had known this before now,” grumbled Powell. “Why didn’t you testify to this in your deposition, Terri?”

Bishop coiled at Powell’s tone, his weight
shifting to the edge of the bed. The two MPs moved half a step forward, ready to intervene. Westfield raised his hands and his voice, “At
EASE
, gentlemen. You two had better execute a major testosterone dump right-fucking-now, or we’ll continue this little powwow down at the brig with both of your combative asses in separate cells.”

Bishop relaxed and returned to his original posture, never taking his eyes off Powell.

Terri broke the uneasy silence, “Agent Powell, no one asked me that question in the deposition. I was exhausted, worried about Bishop, and ravenous. How was I supposed to know about the politics of the times? It isn’t exactly like we get cable news updates out at the ranch. I didn’t think it was important.”

“You didn’t think it was important,” exploded Powell. “
The president of the United States was killed, and you didn’t think it was important?”

Bishop half stood,
clearly his intent to reengage with Powell. Terri hooked his arm and pulled back while Westfield moved between the two men. The general decided to defuse the situation. “Agent Powell, could I have a word with you in the hallway, please?
”

Powell, Westfield and the two MPs left the room, closing the door behind them. “Would you cool your jets, Agent Powell
?” Westfield began. “That’s a pregnant civilian in that room, not a terrorist suspect. I know you need answers and so do I, but we’re not going to get anywhere if you keep up with this attitude.”

Powell sighed, rubbing his red and swollen jaw. “You’re right,
General. I’m just so pissed because I knew there had to be someone who knew something more, and Bishop has been uncooperative. I let my friendship with him get in the way of my investigation and my primary duty to protect the president.”

The base commande
r nodded his understanding and responded, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, young man. Now, let’s go back in there and see if we can calmly get to the bottom of this.”

Westfield nodded to the MP, who then opened the door. Westfield barreled in, only to find the room was empty. Bishop, Terri, and their gear had disappeared. A slight disturbance in the air made the curtains move
. Westfield rushed to the open window.

Quickly joined by Powell, the two men stood looking at the cluster of vehicles in the otherwise empty parking lot. There was no sign of the escapees.

Powell turned to the general saying, “General, I’ll alert my men to help with the search.”

Westfield grunted and looked at Powell, “Do you really think we’re going to find them? Think about that for a moment, Agent Powell.”

Powell started to protest, but the general waved him off. “He’ll be in the desert in 15 minutes. That’s his turf, if you’ll recall. Even if we did find them, what then? Do you really want to risk a firefight with your prime new witness in the middle of the night? Hasn’t the Secret Service already taken one black eye today?”

“We can’t just let them go, sir.”

“Oh yes we can, Agent Powell. We most certainly can. I’ve used enough body bags this week already, and chasing that man through the desert would only produce the need for more. Let things cool off for a bit. We will find them later.”

Terri glanced out the rear glass of the MP pickup truck. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Bishop?”

Keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead, Bishop shifted gears and responded. “Terri, we had to get out of there. This entire situation is a boiling cauldron of bullshit
, and I can’t keep the players straight. Someone wants to kill us, and he’s still on the loose. I want to believe Powell’s innocent in all this, but now I doubt everything and everybody.”

Convinced they weren’t being pursued, Terri turned to face the front. “I gotta hand it to ya,
Bishop; a girl sure doesn’t get bored around you. An attempted homicide, assault of a federal officer, and grand theft auto, all in one night. Do you have any more surprises in store for this old, pregnant lady this evening? I’m about at capacity for one day.”

Bishop
grunted and retorted, “Oh, damn. I forgot our theatre tickets back at the room. My bad, honey.”

Terri giggled and then looked around, “Where might we be going?”

“I’m going to drive to the edge of the base, and then we’ll be in open desert. I’ll leave the truck there.”

“Oh, now wait just a minute . . .
I’m not walking home through the desert, Bishop. I’m four months pregnant, and my ankles swell really, really easy.”

“No worries. I’ve got a plan . . .
I think.”

“You
think
you’ve got a plan? That’s not incredibly reassuring right at this moment.”

“When I came to the base the first time to deliver the
colonel’s message to the president, I left some transportation nearby. I’m hoping it’s still there.”

“And where might you have gotten this
transportation
?”

Bishop glanced over, a sheepish expression on his face. “I borrowed it from a police officer.”

“Borrowed?” Terri shook her head in pretend disgust. “Bishop, I had no idea you were a car thief when we met. What else are you hiding from me?”