THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (10 page)

“What’s the job?”

“Don’t know. He’ll give me details when I meet with him.”

She tossed the bag on top of the bed, unzipped it, and began to unpack. “Right now, I’ve got to get packed and head out. You can stay here—don’t worry, it’s safe. Or you can come with me. But either way, I need to leave within the hour.”

“Within the hour? We just got here.”

“And he wants to meet tonight.”

Farid didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’ll come with you.”

“Good. We can stop on the way out of town and do some shopping for you. But when we get there, I’ll need to meet with him alone. I can drop you at a café or something for a little while. It should only take a half hour or so. I’ll come pick you up afterward and then I’ll take you around to see the city.”

“Where?”

“Raleigh, North Carolina.”

I
t was dark when Keene woke up. His head was fuzzy and he couldn’t remember why he was lying here. The last thing he remembered was talking with Quinn and having decided that they needed to get out of here. The United States was in trouble again. Next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes here, to find himself alone and still in this dank, crummy hotel room. And Quinn was gone.

Remembering there had been Chinese guards outside the last time he had woken up, he didn’t immediately reach for the light. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to get used to the level of darkness surrounding him. When he was sure he had his wits about him, he quietly got out of the bed and walked slowly over to the window. He pulled back the curtain and looked around outside.

The way the room was situated, within the block of rooms, gave him a good view of the street in front of him and the main road that ran in front of the hotel. The occasional car passed by, and down the street, he could see some people milling around what looked to be an old convenience store. But for the most part, the place seemed quiet and left alone.

Satisfied it was all clear, he turned on the small light on the side table. A handwritten note lay beside the lamp.

“Seriously!”

Keene crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room.

“Seriously!” he said again. “God, are You kidding me? I’m barely a believer myself. I royally screwed up the last time You tried to warn us. And You want
me
to try and stop something else now? Seriously? This is ridiculous, You know that?” He looked up at the sky and wagged his finger. “See, Boz told me about this…how You tell one of us to do something, and then expect us to just blindly trust that it’ll all work out. I mean, really. How am I supposed to stop something, when I have no idea what I’m trying to stop! Please, God, please—just tell me. Just tell me who it is, where they are, and I’ll go, right now. I mean, You talk to Quinn. Why can’t You talk to me? If I’m the one You’re sending out to stop this junk…”

He sat down on the bed and strained to hear something. Anything. But the only sound that came was from the buzzing of the light from the little side table.

“You’re not going to say anything to me, are You?” He looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” He lay back on the bed and rubbed his forehead.

He had been lying there for a few minutes when he heard it. Someone was outside. Quickly, he sat up in the bed and killed the light. He moved swiftly across the room and loosed his belt from his trousers. He wrapped one end around his left hand and held the other end with his right like a garrote. He stepped quietly across the room, so that he would be behind the door when it opened. He steadied his breathing and waited.

The dead bolt began to turn slowly. Someone was picking the lock. Another ten seconds and the knob on the door slowly began to turn. Keene hoped it was Boz, but he wasn’t about to just holler through the door. If it was the Chinese, he wanted to be able to surprise them. Probably the same reason Boz—if it was him—wasn’t announcing himself on the other side of the door.

The door slowly swung open. Keene saw the reflection of light from the streetlight outside as it shimmered off the barrel of the Kimber 1911 .45 semiautomatic pistol that appeared in the crack as the door began to open. Keene recognized the pistol and thought about having some fun. But he didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention, either.

He readied himself—just in case he was mistaken—and whispered, “Boz, it’s me.”

The barrel of the gun lowered and the door pushed the rest of the way open. Boz stepped inside and swept the room with the Kimber. “You alone? Everything okay?”

Keene stepped forward and closed the door. “I’m good.” He crossed the room to his friend and embraced him in a huge bear hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Boz was squeezing him back. “You, too, Jon. You, too.”

After a few seconds, the two stepped back from each other. Keene quickly grabbed the backpack he had started packing earlier. “This is all I have. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Boz said.

Keene eyed the blued barrel of the Kimber Boz held. “You got one of those for me?”

“Sorry, bud.” Boz held the .45 up and waggled it. “This guy’s mine. But I brought you his little brother.” He reached inside his waistband and produced an M&P subcompact 9mm. He tossed it to Keene.

Keene ejected the magazine to see if it was full. He pulled back the slide and noted that the chamber was loaded. He replaced the magazine, stuck the pistol into his own waistband. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Boz put his hand on Keene’s chest to stop him from walking out the door. “You follow me. I’ve already sussed this place out. There’s a little Quick Mart about two hundred yards down the road. Couple Chinese guards hanging out there. But they shouldn’t be any problem. Long as we stay clear of them.”

“What’s our transport back?”

“There’s a main road about a mile up called Briley Parkway. I got a car stashed up there. But we need to be careful. Chinese got checkpoints and roadblocks set up about every twenty miles out. We’ll try to stick close to the interstate, but we may have to bail onto secondary roads.”

Keene let out a long breath and nodded. “Man, I don’t care if we have to see every square inch of this state, if it means getting back across that mountain range into US territory.”

“Roger that,” Boz said. “We might just have to.” He checked his own weapon again. “Let’s roll.”

While both men had been trained how to exit a hostile environment quietly and undetected, they agreed the best course of action, in this case, would be to act casually. Like they were supposed to be there. They would deal with the what-if when and if it became necessary. There was a lot of open space that needed to be covered before getting back to the car. Dodging in and out of bushes or behind parked cars might draw even more attention.

The two set out on foot, Boz in front, Keene following a couple of paces behind, as the shoulder of the road was narrow. Even though the time of night was late, there were others milling about. This portion of Murfreesboro Road was home to all kinds of transients, junkies, prostitutes, and the like. A couple of guys walking down the side of the road was nothing out of the ordinary.

Less than a half a mile ahead, a small two-lane offshoot led away from the main road, looping up and over the main road, forming a sort of overpass. Boz stuck his arm behind his back and thumbed to Keene that they were headed that way. They had no sooner changed directions and started up the ramp when headlights from a large truck appeared from behind the cluster of trees that waited at the other end of the overpass. Boz tilted his head slightly and called over his shoulder in a hushed whisper.

“Chinese patrol. Just keep your head down and keep moving.”

“Roger that.”

The truck came around the bend and started down the incline of the ramp where Boz and Keene now were. The truck slowed down momentarily as it approached the two but then passed without stopping. Keene felt a small relief as he heard the driver let off the brake and the truck continued to roll down the small hill. His relief was short lived, though.

Everything in him wanted to look back over his shoulder as he heard the air brake on the military truck engage, but he knew that if he looked back over his shoulder, no matter what the reason for the truck stopping, it would take notice and become suspicious. For all he knew, the truck was stopping because the driver dropped something, or whatever other stupid reason a truck would stop in the middle of the road.

He noticed that Boz, too, had realized the truck was coming to a stop behind them. Boz had increased his pace significantly and was now almost at a slow jog. The unspoken act was communicated to Keene loud and clear. Time to move. Keene picked up his pace as the two of them rounded the top of the ramp of the offshoot road.

The sound of the gearshift being ground into R
EVERSE
echoed up the ramp to Keene’s ears. He and Boz were about fifty yards ahead of the truck, but the overpass was a good hundred and fifty yards long. The only escape was over the edge to a fifty-foot drop back onto Murfreesboro Road. Not an option. The tree line at the other end of the overpass led into a residential area. If they could make it there before the truck reached them, they could disappear into the neighborhoods around. The third option was to let the truck reach them and see what they wanted. There was chance, albeit a small one, that the Chinese soldier who was driving was just lost and needed to ask for directions. Or perhaps he was looking to score some dope and thought Keene and Boz looked like the kind of guys who could help him out.

The whining of the transmission of the truck was now screeching up the ramp. The truck was going to be on them in less than fifteen seconds. Keene caught up to Boz and was walking side by side now.

“We can’t make it to the tree line before he gets up here,” Keene said.

“Nope.” Boz continued his pace.

“And if we run, that dude’s going to get on the radio and call it in.”

“Yep.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“Just keep walking and let’s see what happens. And keep your head down. They know what you look like. But not me. Just stay behind.”

“Roger that.” Keene stepped back in behind his friend and kept pace.

He had just fallen back in line when he felt the big truck rolling up behind them. The rear of the truck came into view and continued backing up until it was in front of him and Boz. The driver turned the wheel and the truck moved sideways so that it was sitting in both lanes and blocking their path. Both he and Boz stopped, standing in the wash of the headlights.

The driver’s-side door opened up, and the shadow of a figure leaned out.

“Who are you two? And what are you doing out here at this time of night? It’s after curfew.”

“Who, us?” Boz looked around, as if the guard had been talking to someone else.

“Yes, you,” the guard snapped.

Boz chuckled and waved him off. “Man, look around. There’s a ton of people out after curfew. We’re just a couple of Joes trying to get somewhere warm, man. It’s cold out here.”

Keene noted that the driver now had leveled his arm across the open door. Though it was dark, he could make out the shape of the barrel of the pistol that was now pointed at them.

“Whoa, dude!” Boz said in his best stoner voice. “What’s with all the aggression, man? We ain’t done nothing wrong. Just trying to get somewhere warm, man. I got a girl lives up the road here. That’s where we’re headed.”

“Show me your papers.” The guard waved them over with the barrel of his gun.

Boz turned to move in front of Keene. As he did, he mouthed,
Quietly
.

Keene nodded and understood. Boz would take the lead by moving around the front of the truck and toward the guard. Keene would follow behind. As they got closer, Boz would pick up his pace, so as to somewhat startle the guard. When that happened Keene would make his move.

Boz did just as Keene knew he would. As he rounded the hood of the truck, he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. He started talking to the guard as if nothing was wrong, waving the wallet and mocking a protest over being stopped. As he did, Keene came in behind him and moved out and around his friend. By the time Boz had reached the door of the truck, Keene had overtaken him and had slipped off to the side unnoticed by the guard, who was focused on the commotion Boz was making. Keene rounded the door of the truck and in a split second was on top of the guard. He reached up and cupped his hand over the guard’s mouth while placing his knee in the middle of the guard’s back. With one quick snap, he pulled the guard’s neck back and thrust his knee into the man’s back. The guard immediately went limp and fell out of the truck into Keene’s arms.

It all seemed so easy and perfect. Until he looked up to see Boz crashing forward into the door. A second later, he saw the butt end of the SKS-56 the second guard was holding, which had just knocked Boz over the back of the head. The second guard must have come around from the back of the truck. All of his instincts began to kick in and he was about to lunge for the guard when he heard the clank of the metal from the slide of a third guard’s SKS-56 behind him.