Collision Course (26 page)

“What
the hell?” Trey said.

“Grenade,”
Casey told hm. “Joe, what the hell kind of shields do you have here? It should
have come right through the window.”

“Trade
secret,” he bit off. “Anyway, they lobbed it so it would only hit the porch.
Remember what I said. Bennett doesn’t want any casualties until he wrings
everything out of you.” He unlocked a door next to the kitchen and slid a panel
open to reveal a wide closet stocked with arms and ammunition. He handed a
Glock to Trey along with extra clips. “I’m hoping you can shoot?”

Trey
nodded grimly. “I have one and I’ve been practicing.”

“Good.
Let’s hope you don’t have to use it but it pays to be prepared.”

When he
handed a rifle to Casey along with a belt of ammunition, Trey watched her load
it and set herself up with the ease of long practice. He was torn between
pride, fear for her and the sick feeling he’d gotten everyone into a dangerous
mess because he’d done something stupid.

Joe took
another rifle for himself then set up on the other side of Trey, smack in front
of the door. “If they manage to smash the glass or take down the door, which
will take more time than they think, we’ll give them a proper welcome.”

Trey
wished he had Joe’s confidence, or Casey’s. She stood like a warrior, rifle at
the ready, face set in concentration, and he knew if anyone came through the
door they’d get a bullet before they could draw a breath.

“Now
what?” Trey asked. He was so in over his head here.

“Now we
wait for their next move. I’m hoping to hell Max gets here before we reach
crisis point.”

“Seems
to me like we’re already there.” Trey snorted.

The
gunmen continued to pepper them, tossing another grenade onto the porch and
taking another chunk out of it.

“Two men
at ten o’clock,” Joe said in a soft voice.

Trey
shifted his gaze to his left, and through the window saw men stealthily moving
to the front of the house. Seconds later an explosion sounded from the area.

“They
tripped the wire at the driveway,” Joe told them. “I don’t think anyone else
will be trying to approach from that direction.”

The room
filled with a tension like a living thing. Trey wiped the sweat from his face
with his forearm and rubbed his damp palm along his thigh to absorb the
moisture. Everyone’s breathing sounded loud to him and he could smell his own
fear. Every few minutes, the gunmen would let loose a round of bullets then
pause to see if they were getting any reaction.

“You
can’t get out of there,” one of them yelled. “If you open the door and hold out
a white flag, no one will get hurt.”

Yeah,
right!

Trey had
stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.

“They
don’t know we can see them,” Joe reminded them. “And they have no idea how well
armed we are. The explosive charges they set off probably made them rethink
their operation, but they won’t make the same mistake again.”

Nothing
happened for the next five minutes, five agonizing minutes during which no one
moved. No one said a word. They hardly dared breathe. Trey watched Bennett move
forward to speak to the closest one of his men then step back again. The men
stood motionless in the field, guns aimed at the house.

Temporary
standoff, but it wouldn’t last much longer. He was wondering how long they
could defend themselves when he heard another sound, faint at first then
louder. The familiar
whop! whop! whop!
of another helicopter coming
closer.

“That’s
gotta be Max,” he hollered. “The cavalry’s here, in the nick of time.”

They
watched through the window as a helo much lighter than the other one and
painted a lethal-looking black came in low. This one also had an open cabin
door exposing armed men, and they were strafing the field where Bennett and his
thugs stood. The bullets struck close enough to each man it made them dance away,
trying to avoid being hit.

“Lay
down your weapons,” the voice bellowed from a loud speaker. “The next bullets
will strike human flesh.”

As if to
emphasize the words, another round of gunfire peppered the ground. The gunmen
laid their weapons down and raised their hands. Trey could see them waiting for
a signal of some sort from Bennett but he simply stood with his hands in his
pockets, frozen to the spot.

In five
minutes, it was over. The shooters were in restraints and under guard, Bennett
also, and Max Rider strode up to the porch and knocked on the door.

“Some
welcoming committee,” he said to Joe as the two men shook hands. Then he stared
at Trey. “Quite a mess you’ve stirred up here.” He grinned. He started to hold
out his hand but in a moment the men were exchanging the masculine version of
hugs.

“Thanks
for saving my bacon,” Trey told him.

“Always
happy to do a favor for a friend,” he grinned. “And who do we have here?”

Trey
drew Casey to him again. “Max Rider, meet Casey McIntyre. A very special woman.
If not for her, I might not even be standing here with you.”

“Then
I’m damn happy to meet you.” They shook hands and he turned to Trey again. “Now
let’s see what kind of muck you’ve stumbled into.”

The
helicopter whined and began lifting off the ground. “Don’t you have to go back
with the chopper?”

Max
shook his head. “I called for another one to pick me up. Bennett and his
playmates are being flown to a maximum security location where they’ll be
questioned and processed. And orders will go out to pick up Serrano and
El-Salaki. If we can find them. The director’s pissed as hell and is handling
the matter himself. There’ll be fallout for a long time. Now then. How about
those files?”

The
first edges of dawn were lighting up the sky by the time Max had gone over
every bit of the material with them. The more he heard, the more he read, the
colder his eyes became.

“The
White House will be in a panic.” He shook his head. “Bennett’s been not just a
visitor but an overnight guest. He’s accompanied the president on a few special
trips overseas. Even sat in on some high level meetings.”

“I guess
the president should have checked under all the money for the person beneath
it,” Casey put in.

Max
studied her. “How’d you get to be so cynical?”

She
shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess. Too many years in government service.”

Max
grimaced. “That can do it, if you’re not careful.” He forced a smile. “Okay,
then. Joe, I need all of the stuff you have on secure disks. I don’t want to be
caught short if Bennett’s playmates get wind of what happened here too soon and
find a way to wipe it before we can retrieve it.”

“Already
done.” Joe handed him the case with the encrypted material. “And I’ve got a
backup on a standalone machine in case.”

“I’d
have expected nothing less.” He turned to Trey. “There won’t be a trial. The
president won’t want the publicity, and Bennett’s cooked anyway. His attorneys
will try to get him a deal if he rolls over on his playmates.”

“But
he’ll still go to prison, right?” Trey asked.

“Oh,
yeah. No doubt of that.” Max sighed. “What a fucking mess it will be trying to
straighten out Bennett Global Enterprises, figure out what money’s clean and
what isn’t and how to keep things operating. There are a lot of businesses
involved.”

“Who’ll
take charge?” Casey wanted to know.

“Someone
with the expertise to keep it all together. Fortunately that’s not my problem.”
He turned to Trey. “You know Bennett’s playmates are still out there. Picking
them up is going to be tricky, because they aren’t U.S. citizens or even
residents.”

“Will
you be able to do it?”

“I’m
pretty sure we can get other countries to cooperate with us and we’ll get
Interpol involved. We know where Serrano holes up and the director is already
on the phone to clear the way for a mission into Mexico. But in the meantime,
we need to figure out what to do with the two of you.”

Trey
frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well,
you won’t be returning to your old job. Uncle Sam won’t let you, even if you
want to. And until we have Bennett’s two playmates in hand, there could be a
bull’s-eye on your head.”

A
sickness bubbled up inside Trey, something close to fear.

“What do
you mean? What can we do?” He tightened his hold on Casey. “I’ve put her in
danger because of what I did. She needs to be protected.”

“You,
too,” Casey insisted.

“I have
some ideas,” Max told them. “I need to run everything by the director first.
Make some arrangements. They won’t be long term, just until it all shakes out
and we’ve got the bad guys put away. Joe, can you put them up for a week or so
until I work out the details?”

“No
problem.”

“We came
here with nothing but the clothes on our backs,” Trey told him. “Can we at
least go to the nearest discount store?”

Max
shook his head. “We’ll get you whatever you need for a week or so. I’ll get
someone in touch with you and you can give them whatever information they’ll
need.” They heard a helicopter landing outside. “Here’s my ride.” He shook
hands all around. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

They all
stood on the porch watching the helo lift off as the sun rose above the
horizon.

“I feel
as if the whole thing has been a dream,” Casey said.

“More
like a nightmare,” Trey corrected. “I may never answer a damn phone again.”

He felt
suddenly weak, as if someone had pulled a plug and drained all the energy from
him. He’d been riding the edge of panic for so long, it would take him a long
time to come down from it. And he hadn’t a clue where his life was going from
here except he wanted Casey in it.

Casey
placed a hand against his cheek. “Maybe I’ll keep you busy enough you won’t
even need a phone.”

Trey
closed his fingers over hers. “Promise?”

She
smiled at him. “I’ll do my best.”

The room
was institutional grey, furnished with a metal table and three uncomfortable
chairs. Charles Bennett sat in one, the rough material of his prison jump suit
an irritant against his skin. From the moment he’d been handcuffed and shoved
without ceremony into a helicopter behind Joe Panko’s house, his life had been
one pile of shit after another.

No, he
corrected himself. It went to shit the moment Trey Haggerty answered the phone
in his office. And it had gotten worse every minute. His empire, which he’d
spent years building, was crumbling right in front of him, and he couldn’t stop
it. Federal accountants had assumed control of Bennett Global Enterprises and
all its subsidiaries, tracing and examining every project listed on the books.
His encrypted files had been cracked and evidence of his illegal activities
exposed and examined.

He spent
the first week after his capture in a small, secure facility near Washington,
D.C. where representatives from nearly every agency in the government had taken
their turn at questioning him. His funds were all frozen but the government had
agreed to secure funds for his legal defense, handling the payments from one
account themselves. But the sad fact was all the high-priced legal talent in
the world wouldn’t be able to get him exonerated.

He’d
lost weight in the past three weeks, as much from the poor quality of the food
he ate as from the sickness of despair that gripped him daily. He vacillated
between cursing his rotten luck and praying somehow the nightmare would turn
out to be a mistake. But there’d been no mistake. And to make matters worse,
he’d been caught red-handed directing an attack against civilians.

The man
who sat across from him today, Max Rider, had been the one to take him into
custody. From the beginning, he’d shown no sympathy for Bennett’s situation.

“We
won’t be meeting like this again,” Rider told him now, opening the folder in
front of him. “You’re being transferred to a more secure facility until your
trial.”

“Where
do you think I could possibly go?” Bennett asked, bitterness in every word. “I
have no sanctuary anymore, and you’ve frozen all my money.”

“What
did you expect? You betrayed your country.” Rider’s face was a hard mask. “And
you caused the death of thousands around the world. We have the proof in black
and white. Your fancy lawyers won’t be able to find any wiggle room for you
here, no matter how clever they are.”

Bennett
sat in silence. What could he say?

“You
have a small option,” Rider continued. “We took down your pal Serrano and broke
the spine of his operation. He’s out of business for good. But we could use
more information on El-Salaki. If you’re willing to answer some questions about
him and point us in the right direction, it might help with your sentencing.
Because, trust me. There isn’t a jury in the country who would find you not
guilty of the list of crimes you’re being tried on.”

Bennett
clenched and unclenched his fists. Roll over on the arms dealer? He might as
well cut his own throat. Instead, he sat in his chair, silent, bitter and
angry.

Rider
waited. When Bennett still said nothing, he closed the folder and stood up.

“Very
well. Later today you’ll be moved to ADMAX to await trial. After sentencing,
you’ll be returned to the same prison.”

“ADMAX?”
Bennett’s voice sounded hoarse even to himself. “What’s wrong with where I am
now?”

At least
here he had time in the exercise yard, an opportunity to mingle with other
prisoners. The administrative maximum security facility at Florence, Colorado
was worth than a death sentence. Single cells without windows except a small
opening in the door. One hour out of the cell each day in a small group, with heavily
armed guards ever watchful. The place where they sent terrorists and mass
murderers. Did they see him as one of those? Funny, all this time he’d thought
of himself as a businessman taking advantage of opportunities, far removed from
the end results of his dealings.