Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent (43 page)

Deke couldn’t hold back any longer, the day’s events shortening his temper. “I’m so sick of this shit. Every fucking swinging dick thinks we are some
gawd awful lawless killers or some shit. I’ve gotten used to being called a gun for hire or a mercenary or even a bounty hunter, but a baby killer is just too fucking much. Nobody here shot your kid, dude. We don’t operate that way.”

Nick grunted, “So none of you elite operators were in the Alpha courthouse at about 0500 hours a few days ago? None of you brave fighting men got caught looking through records and charged up the stairs where you shot a 15
-year-old boy?”

Deke looked back at Grim, the two men’s mouths opening in surprise.

It all became clear to Deke. “That was you? That was your son at the top of the stairs?” Deke took a step closer to Nick, the anger in his voice sharp and hostile. “What kind of fucking father are you? Are you dense of something?”

The response initially surprised Nick, but the big man recovered quickly. “Oh nooooo
, you don’t. You ain’t putting it back on me, shitbird . . . send the fucker out that. . . .”

Deke interrupted Nick’s rebuttal, cupping his mouth and yelling, “I’ve got men at the top of the stairs!”

Deke stared at Nick, “Isn’t that what you yelled at us? Isn’t that exactly what you said, right after firing shots in our direction?”

Nick couldn’t respond, his mind spinning.
Yes
, he thought,
that is exactly what I said
.

Deke continued, “So I’ve got some cowboy shooting
up the basement and rather than drop the hammer on your ass, we go charging up the stairs to get out. You yell out that warning right before we hit the bottom step, I look up, and there’s a guy pointing an AR15 at my head. I shot your son, dude. I put the round into his chest, but I swear I didn’t know it was a kid. There was no way to tell in the dark and with the speed of the moment.”

Nick met Deke’s stare and took a step toward the confessor. The last thing any man in West Texas wanted was to go hand-to-hand with Nick. On top of his size, training and experience, he was a parent whose offspring had been harmed by another. It was a combination of skills, capabilities and motivation that would render the ex-Special Forces sergeant practically invincible.

Deke seemed to sense this, but held his ground, readying for the bull’s charge. Deke was building up his own storm of rage, and it wasn’t defensive. Throwing his rifle to the ground and making ready with his fists, he challenged Nick. “Come on in, big man, if that’s what it’s going to take. You clearly suck as a father, and the boy will be better off with his mother after I take care of you. My old man was just as stupid as you are. This is going to feel good.”

Something registered in the man’s words and Nick p
ulled up short. “I did say that . . .you wouldn’t have known. . . . He’s a big kid. . . . It was dark.”

“Look, pal, I don’t know what you guys were doing there. I don’t know why anyone puts a rifle in a 15
- year-old kid’s hands. I’m not walking in your shoes, and I’m not anybody’s judge. The fucking world has gone crazy, and people are doing all kinds of weird shit. But I’m also not a guy who shoots a kid on purpose. I thought your son was a man trying to kill me, and I defended myself. I bet you would have done the same thing in my shoes.”

A change came over Nick. His shoulders slumped and his frame relaxed, a look of understanding crossing his face. Without a word, he walked to Deke’s rifle and picked it up. The action caused several Darkwater weapons to point at Nick, but he ignored them. Brushing off the sand, he handed the weapon to Deke butt first and looked his former adversary in the eye. “I got no quarrel with you. You’re right – I would’ve done the same.”

Everyone relaxed, especially Deke. Nick turned to walk away when one of the Darkwater operators said, “Hey! I know you. Didn’t you serve with the teams down at Bragg?”

Nick stopped and turned around, looking at the speaker. “I spent half my life sweating in those
gawd forsaken Carolina pines. Yeah, I’ve worked at Bragg more than I care to remember.”

“Yo
u were our night ops instructor - Class 309. I hated your sadistic ass.” The guy turned and looked at his co-workers and continued. “This guy was pure fucking evil. I wanted to kill
him
more than any terrorist.”

Nick grinned, “Good. That means I did my job.”

The Darkwater operator stepped forward and offered his hand. “I changed my mind the first time I got separated from my team in the sandbox. I thought Haji was going to skin my sorry ass alive. I made it back thanks to what you taught us.”

Nick shook the man’s hand. He started to turn away again but stopped and pivoted back to face the group. “Where are you guys going?”

Deke responded, “We are going to hang out here until I can get some transport out of this shithole. We’re just waiting on the Army and your guys to clear out.”

Nick looked over his shoulder at Robinson’s garage and then back. “There’s no water around here
, and I’m guessing you don’t have that much food. Besides, you’ve got a wounded man. What are the chances your ride will show up before you start eating cockroaches?”

Deke smiled, “No clue. This whole gig kind of blew up in our face. We had no idea that Wayne dude was a nut case. I’ve got to get in touch with the home office and see.”

Nick thought for a moment and made up his mind. “Why don’t you guys come back to Alpha with us? You can stay in town at one of the hotels. There’s no room service, but we have electricity, running water and food. Stay as long as you need to. Sleep in a bed.”

Moses spoke up over Deke’s shoulder, “A bed? Did he say we could sleep in a bed
and
take a shower?”

Deke wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. A lot of people don’t like our kind around. Word will spread quickly who we are and that generally leads to trouble.”

Nick shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The town’s just getting on its feet, and people have enough to worry about. I know the mayor, and I’ll put in a good word for you.”

The Darkwater team talked it over for a few minutes before Deke looked up and nodded. “If you’re sure it’s okay, a bed and running water does sound nice.”

The mirror reflected the image of a tired man. Dark circles accented the crow’s feet surrounding Moreland’s eyes, his skin pale and expression hollow. He had imagined this moment before, part of numerous fleeting fantasies during his budding political career. This single day had been a focus of the past—the day he would be sworn in as the president of the United States.

Those daydreams of fancy first occurred when he was a younger man, a freshman senator
, full of the future and of himself. Another bout of glory-induced fantasy had been whipped up when the first bill bearing his name had passed into law. The mind-movie had been replayed several times since, prompted by a landslide reelection, a well-received speech at the national convention, and a phone call from a leading contender discussing a vice president position on the ticket.

Moreland sighed, absentmindedly adjusting the knot in his necktie while he inventoried the differences between those fictional portrayals and the hard, cold facts of today’s ceremony. He wasn’t feeling any of the emotions he had once imagined. There was no joy or atmosphere of celebration.
Lacking was the crowd of encouraging supporters spouting slogans of a better future or renewed hope for country.

In fact, the few aid
es present aboard Air Force One were sullen and quiet as they went about their duties. It wasn’t a time of glory, honor, or achievement. Dark clouds loomed on the nation’s horizon, and anyone who knew what was happening at the highest levels of government could see them. Not only was the US in shambles, her political leadership had been decapitated.

Wayne’s actions only added to the self-doubt and insecurity. Never had his trusted aid
e given the slightest indication of his zealous beliefs. There hadn’t been a single hint of treachery or misconduct. Beyond the death of his friend, misgivings filled Moreland’s conscious, negative thoughts centering on trust and motivation.  How many more of Wayne’s ilk stalked in the political bushes surrounding the presidency? Could he ever trust anyone again?

Moreland finished his face-to-face meeting with the mirror and turned to exit the executive suite. Opening the narrow aircraft door, he was greeted by Agent Powell and a few others waiting outside. Moreland nodded silently, his attention finally focusing on the Secret Service man.

“Agent Powell, we have a stop to make before the ceremony. I assume there wasn’t any issue making the necessary arrangements?”

“No, sir, General Westfield, four
senators and I will all be witnesses.”

“Very good. Let’s get this over with.”

Moreland and his security detail proceeded down the steps of Air Force One, immediately entering an armored SUV. Presidential limousines weren’t necessary here; there wasn’t any public to impress with pomp and circumstance.

The passage of the four
-car procession through the streets of Fort Bliss was most likely the least celebrated presidential drive-by in modern history. The occasional soldier who noticed the flags brandishing the seal of the executive branch would stop and salute, but other than a few circumstantial onlookers, no one seemed to notice or care.

The emergency room entrance had been chosen for Moreland’s visit to the base hospital. Powell had wanted the meeting to take place aboard Air Force One, but
the man about to take the oath of office had refused. “We’ve put these people through enough already—we can make the trip,” he had firmly stated.

In a bustle of activity, Moreland’s door was opened
, and then he was escorted through the double wide automatic entrance to the medical facility. Two empty corridors and another set of fire doors later, Moreland saw General Westfield at the head of a group waiting in the hall. The general saluted.

Moreland shook hands as introductions were made. As soon as the preliminaries were completed, Powell looked at the nearby closed door and nodded. “If you’re ready, sir.”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Powell opened the door, the sound of a heart monitor and other medical equipment filling the air. As Moreland entered, the young woman lifted her head and stared at the visitors. The man everyone referred to as Bishop was beside her, unconscious in the bed. A forest of tubes, hoses
, and poles surrounded the couple.

Moreland focused on the young woman. Clearly exhausted and probably worthy of being in
a hospital bed as well, she gazed at him with a blank expression, almost as if he wasn’t there. Her face was bruised and welted, her wrists completely wrapped in bandages.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, young lady. I wish this could be left for another time, but unfortunately
, it cannot.”

Terri shrugged her shoulders, her projection of disdain clear. With a voice scratchy from crying, she
answered, “Whatever. What do you need me to do?”

One of
the senators stepped forward and unfolded a sheet of paper while another produced a video camera. “Ma’am, we only have a few questions, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

Again, Terri shrugged.

After being asked to state her name, Terri took an oath that her statements were truthful. Two of the senators then began quizzing her about the brief time she had spent with the former president. The preliminary questions were soon followed by the heart of the matter.

“Did the former
president make any statements to you regarding his assassins?”

Terri nodded and then
responded, “Yes, he did. He stated that he knew it wasn’t the Independents that had tried to kill him. He stated that the attempt on his life was staged so the Independents would be blamed, but he knew there were ulterior motives.”

The lawyer-turned-
politician continued, “You were recently abducted, held hostage, and interrogated. Could you expand on what your interrogator wanted to know or what you learned during that time?”

Terri stated what she remembered of the ordeal, her voice weak and monotone. After finishing, the men thanked her and left, leaving her alone with Westfield and Moreland in the room.