Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) (48 page)

“If you want something done on time, you have to supervise it yourself,” he said. Nobody was in the office with the executive commander. He felt so vastly superior to others that he sometimes spoke to himself because he believed he was the only one sophisticated enough to speak to.

Muhaimin headed out of the Oval Office and proceeded to the White House Situation Room. There were two guards standing outside the room that bowed their heads when their executive commander approached. He waited for their heads to rise and then they opened the door for him. Muhaimin entered the room and first took notice of all the hologram technology that had been recently added to the room.

Payam Vahidi was the Iranian czar he had appointed over the Advanced Technological Weapons Systems. He was completely loyal to Muhaimin and would sacrifice his own life if asked to do so.

In his native Persian tongue, Muhaimin questioned his czar.

“What is the hold up, Mr. Vahidi?”

“Sir, I do apologize for the delay. The Utah Data Collection Center has informed me that we have successfully installed the software updates. However, the technology we have here in the District is outdated and required a software patch to complete the process.”

“What kind of timetable are we looking at now?”

“Sir, the patch is downloading now and should be complete within an hour.”

“Then we’ll be live?”

“Sir, after the install, the system will have to be rebooted. All existing FLIES drones will need to be grounded before the system is finished rebooting. After that, the feed from the Utah Data Collection Center will be fed live to the District.”

“Excellent work, Mr. Vahidi. The next time you experience a delay, do inform me.”

“Yes, sir!”

Muhaimin walked out of the White House Situation Room and walked down the hall and around the corner. When he was alone, he stood in front of his window and pulled out his cell. After lighting up the screen with just a touch of a button, he hit one more button that called his contact in Beijing.

Outside the home of Councilor Pao, Beijing, China

Just a block south of Councilor Sung Pao’s home was a luxury black 2032 LE BMW with tinted windows. Inside was an Iranian man, dressed in all white linen, watching the councilor’s home. As he sat patiently, his phone vibrated.

Vvvv vvvv.

The man looked at the screen of his phone and then held it up to his ear, but did not say anything. There was a voice on the other end.

“Black Creek is on hold for at least another hour. Stand your post and await further instruction.”

The man pulled the phone away from his ear and turned off his cell phone’s screen.

The District

Muhaimin put his cell phone away and walked over to the nearest window. With both hands clasped behind his back, he peered out the window, the sunlight bathing his face. The executive commander felt confidently in charge.

Just south of West Frankfort, Illinois

Tori was parked on the side of the road, watching another freight train head north. The train was to the east of her with about seven hundred meters between them. She felt safe enough to watch from the distance with her left eye. She still had debris in her right eye from the struggle with the Carbondale bandit. She didn’t have enough water to waste on a good rinse, so she tried her best to suffer through it. She counted about sixty train cars in all.

“I wonder where all these trains are headed?”

She started to move the bike’s mirror so she could see the reflection of her eye. The mirror was stiff and offered a little resistance. As it began to give way, she saw the reflection of the road behind her as the mirror swept past her posterior view.

She saw several men walking up the road behind her. She saw their figures, but the mirror swept their reflection by too fast to get a number. She saw them walking in a strategic two-column formation. One column on either side of the road.

She remained calm and thought about starting the bike back up, but if it took more than one attempt, she risked being killed. She didn’t know what the aggressiveness level of these men would be, so her thoughts of dying included going down shooting.

She hoped they still believed they had the jump on her, so she was careful not to make sudden movements that were out of place. She maintained the same posture and body language while she removed the rifle from the side of her bike and lifted her right leg up and over the seat. This move spun her around with the rifle at the ready and facing in the direction of the strangers.

The men stopped in their tracks.

Tori could see the men with her left eye but was in no condition to be in a gunfight. Even with two eyes.

With her one good eye, she could see twelve men wearing different patterns of camouflaged clothing.

“Easy, lady. We don’t want any trouble.”

The statement calmed her a bit, but she was too untrusting to let her guard down.

One of the men turned around towards the others and motioned with his left hand for them to lower their rifles.

They did.

Tori kept hers trained on the man that was now approaching her. He had both of his arms in the air, but the rifle was still in his right hand. She watched as he slowly bent his knees, not breaking eye contact with her, and lowered himself to the point where he could place his rifle on the ground.

“Look, lady. If we intended you any harm, we would’ve shot you when your back was to us.”

Tori believed the statement. It made perfect sense, but she was still untrusting.

“Take three more steps towards me and keep that rifle on the ground,” she said.

The stranger could see she was struggling with her right eye. She couldn’t keep it open and was turning her head frequently to maintain a wider peripheral with her good eye.

“Look, I can help. There’s water in my butt pack,” he said.

She remembered he was carrying the rifle in his right hand.

“Use your left hand to fetch it out. No sudden moves.”

“Okay.”

The man reached slowly into his butt pack and removed a canteen.

“Who are you?” Tori asked him.

“My name is Mike. I’m from Marion. Me and my guys were sent to track some murderers that headed in this direction.”

“Mike, place the canteen on the ground and kick it towards me.”

Mike did as she asked.

She lowered herself to pick it up and gave it a shake. The canteen was about half full. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to open it without
compromising her hold on the rifle
, but saw it as another test to try the man’s integrity.

Tori gave up her advantage over the man to unscrew the cap on the canteen.

Mike saw an opportunity to lunge at the woman and take her by force, but he was a good man and his intentions to assist were pure.

When Tori saw Mike did not attack her, she walked back to her bike and place the rifle back into the straps that held it in place for travel.

She went to her mirror and canted her head to the side. This put her back to the stranger. She knew it was a risky move, but it would ease her trust level if he didn’t take advantage of the situation.

She poured the water into her eye and flushed it with every drop that would pour out.

Standing back up and gently wiping her eye, she walked up to Mike and handed him the canteen.

“Thank you. My name’s Tori.”

“Mike. Mike Hammond,” he said. “So what are you doing out here alone?”

“I’m tracking people, too.”

“Killers?”

“No, just the opposite. I’m tracking a friend that did everything he could to save people before the Flip. I should’ve listened.”

“Would you like to join us?”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be feasible. You see, I have this bike, and I don’t see myself pushing it from here to your murderers.”

“True, but you have a better survivability rate if you stay in a group.”

“I can’t argue with statistics. Grab your rifle. If you had plans to snuff me, you would have done it already.”

Tori walked back to her bike and tried to pick it up.

“Would you mind helping me one last time?”

Mike walked over to assist her.

“I guess you’re not staying with us?”

I’m sorry. You’ve been hospitable, but I need the company of people I know. Besides, I’m not giving up the Harley. Who knows, maybe I’ll run into your murderers and do you a favor.”

“I don’t think we have the manpower to do it alone. They looked like a group of Marines and ragtag civilians. Our orders are to observe and report back, but we lost them. We don’t want to go back empty handed, the boss has a bad temper.”

It was Mike’s comment
group of Marines
that caught Tori’s attention.

“You know what? I think I’ll try my luck with you guys. Help me hide the bike in those woods and I’ll unpack my stuff and join your foot patrol.”

“Cool.”

Mike was eager to help her. He liked her spirit and there was something about the way his canteen water mixed with the dirt on her face that made her even more attractive.

Together, they pushed the bike into the woods, collected tree limbs and tall dead weeds, and covered the bike.

The first snowflakes of the year were beginning to fall.

The two of them stood in the woods and looked up into the sky. Tori could feel a cold flake as it landed on her cheek.

“I hate snow,” she said.

“I love it. My mom used to collect snow and mix it with milk, sugar, and vanilla extract, and called it snow ice cream.”

Tori, Mike, and eleven other strangers began their trek north, towards West Frankfort. The snow would eventually accumulate and be an alternate water source, but for now, it was just a nuisance to Tori and a pretty sight for Mike.

Hiding behind the trees several hundred yards away, Cade was lying in a prone position, looking through the scope of his rifle. He had his crosshairs on Tori from time to time, not out of ill will or a desire to shoot her, but he was using the magnifying zoom on the scope as he would a pair of binoculars, if he had them. He had heard Tori’s motorcycle earlier and scurried off of the road to hide in the woods. Now that he had caught up to her, he saw that she was with a dozen or so men. He had lain quietly in the forest, watching, to see what he could figure out about the woman and the men. Strangely enough, the woman had lowered her guard to the men and they were now leaving together. He felt unsafe traveling alone and wanted to meet these people. If she could lower her guard for a dozen strange men, surely she would lower her guard to take in a single wounded man.

Cade took notice of where the woman had covered her motorcycle, and he passaged his way through the woods to the point where they had hidden it. By the time he reached the place where she met the strangers, they were still several yards ahead of him. He walked up to the motorcycle and uncovered it. There were saddlebags attached to it, but there was nothing to salvage from them. He covered it back up, not out of a sense of respect, but because he figured he might need to backtrack at some point and commandeer the bike. To do that meant he needed it to run, if and when he was to return to it.

Before Cade stepped out onto the road, he took a moment to develop a strategy.
Should I play the victim, or
should I act normal?
he thought. Cade had a personality disorder that sometimes came between him and wise decision-making processes. He always assumed things would work out in his favor, no matter what that decision might be. In this case, Cade was fueled by revenge and that was coupled with the thought of his now deceased father, which was a move he regretted once he had time to rethink it.

I’m going to act normal,
he thought.
If anybody sees how I’m wounded, they’ll start asking questions.
Cade took the bandage off and ran his hand over the exit wound of the gunshot. The pain was excruciating to the touch. The hole was bigger than he had imagined, and he figured it would be better to keep it bandaged up. He carefully reapplied the gauze but couldn’t get the tape to secure the end, so he tucked the end of the wrap under a previous pass, called it quits, and stepped out onto the road.

“Hello!” he called, but the pressure on his skull caused by the yell was painful and more than he could stomach. He barely got the word out, but they were too far ahead of him to hear his call anyway. To Cade, the mere fact that they couldn’t hear him was as unbearable as the pain drumming through his skull. It wasn’t long until one of the men turned to the rear to check their six.

“Hey, Mike,” one of the men called out.

“Yeah?” Mike jumped out of formation, where he was preoccupied with Tori, and looked to the man in the rear patrol. “What’s up?”

Mike saw him looking backward, to the north of the road they were patrolling, and saw a man waving a hand in the air.

“Check this out,” Mike said, tapping Tori on the shoulder with the back of his hand.

Tori turned and stepped out of the two-column formation as everyone else stopped to check their six.

“Looks like a day for picking up stragglers,” Tori said.

“Binos!” Mike exclaimed.

One of the men closer to him handed him a pair of binoculars. Mike held them up to his face and saw a ragged-looking man with a dirty bandage on his head.

“His lips are moving, but all I can read is
help
.”

“May I?” Tori asked, reaching her hands out to accept the binoculars.

Mike handed her the binoculars and she looked through them. “He’s looking a little rough. I don’t think he’ll survive these temperatures.”

She aimed them a little higher over his head and saw two large birds flying in circles over his head, like vultures would do for carrion.

Cade could see that they had taken notice of him, but his condition had worsened since he had left. He was feeling severely drained and had the shivers. He struggled to maintain consciousness and continued to drag his feet to where the strangers were located. When he saw them moving towards him, he slowed his pace and eventually dropped to his knees.