Point of Crisis (39 page)

“Probably not,” Alex said, holding his hand out.

Campbell took his hand and surprised him with a quick bear hug.

“Good luck out there. Stay safe.”

“I will, and you do the same. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eli turned his full attention to the York County Readiness Brigade. Frankly, I’m amazed he left you out of this morning’s festivities.”

“Funny you mention that. We had a guy go missing last night. He took off around eight to check on his mom and never returned. At first we figured he had second thoughts about the brigade and split, but maybe he ran into Eli’s crew on the road last night.”

“Second thoughts? Was he new?”

“Yeah, he was one of the guys that joined through the recruiting station. He drove up with us to Belgrade. Skinny-looking guy with a buzz cut. Local kid. Rob Duhaime.”

“I remember him. Knew his way around a rifle. He had one of your cars?”

“No. He had his own car. That’s why we brought him along for the trip to Belgrade. Rob’s pickup was the only vehicle with a tow hitch for your trailer. Not all of the brigade was keen on driving your friends up north.”

“I’ll pass a description of his vehicle to the police and our battalion operations staff. They can keep an eye out for his truck. If he ran into Eli’s group somehow, he’s probably dead on the side of the road,” said Alex. “Silver pickup. Do you remember the make and model?”

“Nissan Frontier.”

“If the Nissan returns, make sure Duhaime’s driving. Never know,” said Alex.

“Way ahead of you. We planned on searching it thoroughly, regardless of who’s driving.”

“Take care, Harrison. I hope our paths cross again.”

“Same here, Captain Fletcher.”

Alex walked across the tall grass field connecting with the dirt road leading to the gate. He pressed the remote transmit button on his vest and recalled the Matvee, which raced out of the tree line to meet him on the road. Looking over his shoulder at Campbell’s property, he tried to picture what would have happened if Eli had concentrated his attack on the York County Readiness Brigade headquarters. A hundred men armed with rifles and explosives-laden vehicles could have punched through the defenses fairly easily unless Campbell had a few surprises he hadn’t disclosed.

He wondered if the Marines back in Limerick would notice if the thirty-caliber machine gun disappeared. Maybe another trip to see Campbell was in the very near future, bearing a proper farewell gift. As one thought triggered another, he settled on the silver pickup truck, imagining one of Eli’s unwitting followers driving it toward Campbell’s people in the woods. Something bothered him about the mental image. He kept picturing Duhaime behind the wheel. Duhaime. The twenty-three-year-old kid that knew his way around an AR-15—and happened to own a brand-new pickup truck.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, sprinting behind the Matvee to the passenger side.

He jumped in and slammed the door shut.

“Is this set to Patriot?” he asked, grabbing the VHF handset.

“Yes, sir. Is everything all right?” said Keeler.

“Hold on, Sergeant,” he said, triggering the radio. “Patriot, this is Guardian Actual. Over.”

Static filled the Matvee for several moments.

“Patriot, this is Guardian Actual. Over,” he said, releasing the transmit button. “Where the fuck are they! Allen, get us moving. RTB. Don’t stop for anything.”

The Matvee lurched forward as the radio speaker crackled. “This is Patriot Three,” replied Major Blackmun.

“Ops, have they started identifying the suspects from this morning’s attack?”

“They’ve identified three of the five prisoners. Not sure about the rest. They’re still trying to get the vehicle wreckage off the runway.”

“Copy. Any chance one of those vehicles is a silver Nissan pickup truck?”

“Wait one. I need to call 4
^th
Brigade. They’re collecting all of this information.”

“Standing by,” said Alex.

Sergeant Keeler leaned between the driver and passenger seat. “Anything we need to be worrying about, sir?”

“Get Peterson out of the turret. Make sure everyone is strapped in tight,” said Alex, fumbling with his harness while trying to hold onto the radio handset.

“Gunner stays in the turret, sir,” said Keeler.

“You can’t shoot an IED. Get him down now. I’m not having a repeat of this morning.”

“Roger that, sir,” Keeler said, pulling PFC Peterson down through the hatch.

“This is Patriot Three,” Blackmun’s voice said over the radio. “Good guess on the pickup. We have a silver Nissan Frontier with Maine plates sitting in the grass between the main runway and the outer taxiway.”

“Was the vehicle rigged with explosives like the rest?”

“Affirmative.”

Alex froze for a moment, terrified by the possible implications.

“Did they find all of the occupants? I’m looking for someone specific,” said Alex.

“Three dead inside the vehicle. A fourth cut down about twenty feet away. 4
^th
Brigade sent me a list of names they’ve collected. What’s the name?”

“Rob Duhaime,” Alex said, his heart pounding.

“Bingo—two for two. Robert Duhaime. Source of ID is a Maine driver’s license. Age twenty-three. Springvale address. Right up the road.”

Shit.
Eli knew about the Belgrade house, and Alex had no way to warn Charlie and Ed.

Eli wouldn’t head up to Belgrade alone, not after his spectacular failure at the Limerick compound. He’d head to a predetermined rally point and link up with whatever remained of his militia army. If Alex acted quickly enough, he might be able to nail Eli before they left the rally point. Someone had to know where he was headed. Alex started thinking about possible links to Eli, starting with the most obvious.

“The ranger at Outland One mentioned a guy they captured by the police cruiser. Can you read the names of the prisoners?”

“Pinette, McCulver and Bowen. Two unknowns,” said Blackmun.

“What was the middle name?” said Alex.

“McCulver. Kevin McCulver. There’s a note attached to his name. Rangers picked him up by the police cruiser at the far end of the runway. Says the driver had chased him around the car, trying to kill him with a suppressed pistol.”

They have Eli’s bomb guy.

“Interesting. Which unit is running the detention center?”

“262
^nd
Engineering,” said Blackmun.

“Copy. Striker Two-Two is inbound. ETA five minutes. Out,” said Alex, pulling the vehicle commander’s data tablet out of the docking station attached to the dashboard.

“Sergeant Keeler, can I use this thing offline?”

“Yes, sir. Select ‘local mode’ on the first screen.”

After following the sergeant’s directions, he chose “navigation tools” from a list of offline applications and opened a map of Maine. By the time they reached MOB Sanford, he had a plan. A desperate plan with no guarantees outside of the fact that September 8
^th
, 2019, would most likely be his last day in Maine.

Chapter 42

EVENT +21 Days

Main Operating Base “Sanford”

Regional Recovery Zone 1

Alex grabbed his rifle and turned to Sergeant Keeler in the back seat. “If anybody asks, I’m trying to get a little more information about the two unidentified prisoners. One of them might be this Duhaime guy.”

“
If
anybody asks,” said Keeler.

“
If
being the operative term,” Alex said, closing the door.

He walked through the dusty parking lot, slipping between a pair of Humvees parked in front of a corrugated steel hangar. A handwritten sign was taped to the inside of the glass door leading into the building that read “262
^nd
Engineering.” A gray-haired, slightly overweight soldier typing at a laptop greeted Alex inside, barely looking up from his work.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to see Captain Adler,” said Alex, looking at the empty computer stations spread throughout the sparse office. “Where did everyone go?”

“All hands on deck reinforcing the RRZ compound. Captain Adler’s across the tarmac, trying to unscrew that situation. They want Jersey barriers around the whole thing. Both sides of the fence.”

“Where’s the good captain going to find that much concrete?”

“Where else? The perimeter checkpoints. RRZ’s orders,” said the soldier. “Robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

“Perfect.”

“I’m sure we can expect even brighter decisions in the future. Do you want me to contact the captain, sir?”

“Yes. I need to see one of the prisoners.”

“You can see them right on this monitor, if you’d like,” said the staff sergeant, pointing to the laptop next to him on the desk.

Alex walked behind the desk and examined the green image. Five men sat next to each other along a wall, hands behind their backs.

“Where are they?”

“Locked inside a storage container at the back of the hangar. We had them under guard in the open until Captain Adler mobilized the company.”

“Why do they have engineers watching prisoners?”

“The RRZ didn’t want the rangers watching them, or any of the Marines. My guess is they’ll be transferred over to 4
^th
Brigade. There was some talk of building a fenced-in area past the main runway for detainees. Some kind of tent city setup.”

“Sounds like they’re expecting more guests,” said Alex, turning from the screen to the soldier. “I can’t make an ID with this night-vision image. I need to see them in person.”

“I’ll have to clear that with the captain. The RRZ threw a fit when they found out the ranger guys went to town on the prisoners,” he said, grabbing his ROTAC.

“Sounds like they got solid intel on the group responsible for the raid.”

“Old intel. The place was empty,” he said, raising the handheld radio. “Sir, I have a Marine captain here requesting to see the prisoners. He needs to make an ID, and the night-vision camera view isn’t cutting it.”

The staff sergeant looked up. “He wants to know if it can wait, sir?”

“The prisoner I’m trying to locate may be able to shed some light on Eli Russell’s location,” he said, staring at the screen while the staff sergeant relayed his response.

“He’d like to talk with you, sir,” he said, handing over the ROTAC.

Alex considered his approach and decided to go with direct.

“Rick, it’s Alex Fletcher. I need a favor. One of your prisoners might have information that can lead us to Eli Russell. I need to see them immediately.”

“Alex, I can’t grant you access to the prisoners. The information shaken out of them this morning didn’t pan out. The RRZ wants a proper interrogation team handling this. They’re flying in a team from somewhere. Nobody is allowed to handle the prisoners until they arrive.”

“This is a personal favor, Rick. The asshole responsible for the airport raid is the same psycho responsible for two attacks against my family. He’s disappeared, and I think he might be targeting friends of mine. I don’t have much time here. Eli has a three-hour head start.”

“They’ll throw me into one of those containers next if they find out about this. Something tells me you’re not planning on a quiet sit-down with the prisoner in question.”

Alex walked deeper into the office and whispered his response.

“I don’t think I’ll need to take it that far. Sounds like he had a little falling out with the other guy in the police cruiser. Instinct tells me it was more than an argument about who was driving. Just give me some time with the guy. Ten minutes. If I can’t get the information I need in that time, I’ll approach this from a different angle.”

“I know I’m going to regret this,” said Adler. “Put Staff Sergeant Gates on the line. The clock starts as soon as Gates steps through the door. Ten minutes.”

Alex jogged back and handed the ROTAC over to Gates, who listened to Adler’s instructions.

“I don’t think we should leave the prisoners unattended, sir,” he said, glancing nervously at Alex while Adler responded. “Understood, sir,” he said, setting the ROTAC on the desk.

“Captain Adler needs me to run a new laptop over to him at the RRZ compound. He wants you to watch over the hangar while I’m gone,” said Gates, raising an eyebrow. “The keys to the prisoner container are hanging there. In case something happens that might require you to evacuate them in the next ten minutes.”

“I suppose I could hold down the fort for you,” said Alex, suppressing a grin. “I should probably keep your ROTAC. Do you have a directory for the MOB?”

Staff Sergeant Gates stood up. “Who do you need to call?”

“Combat Controllers. Tech Sergeant Gedmin, if you know his station.”

“Preset nine,” said Gates, running his hand over his balding head. “Ten minutes.”

“Make it thirty. Please.”

“I might make it four hours…go home and have a drink. Something tells me I’m going to need one,” he said, walking toward the door with a black nylon laptop case. “Good luck, Captain. I hope whatever you got planned is worth it.”

“It’s more than worth it,” Alex said, selecting preset nine.

“Tech Sergeant Gedmin,” the phone squawked.

“Tech Sergeant, this is Captain Fletcher.”

“Good to hear your voice, Captain. Word on the street is you had a close call this morning.”

“Too close. I lost a Marine in the attack,” said Alex.

“Sorry to hear that. It wasn’t a good morning, and it just got worse,” said Gedmin. “NOMAD’s raid was a bust.”

“I heard. What if I told you I know how to find Eli?”

“I’d tell you to grab Lieutenant Colonel Grady and head over to the RRZ compound ASAP.”

“That won’t work for a number of reasons. I have something different in mind, but it requires a huge favor. One I can’t pay back.”

“Define huge.”

“The size of a Black Hawk helicopter.”

“That’s one hell of a favor,” said Gedmin.