THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (16 page)

Boz nodded to Keene, who had climbed up one of the bigger trees and was perched atop a long, thick overhanging branch. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

Boz cupped his hands and pointed his head toward the four guards. “Hey!”

Immediately, the four guards snapped to. One started barking orders to the other three, who immediately pulled their weapons up into firing position and started toward the tree line. The fourth guard, however, stayed put. And then he reached for his radio.

“Someone didn’t tell that guy the plan,” Keene said nervously.

Boz, who had taken up a position behind an adjacent tree, whispered back, “Remind me to dock his pay.”

The three CG entered the tree line, sweeping their weapons back and forth, moving slowly. Keene had a good vantage from up in the tree, but Boz was completely blind. The good news was they were about to pass right under Keene. Keene had to time this perfectly, or else Boz would be left exposed.

As the three guards short-stepped their way under the tree, Keene let out a low whistle. At the same time, he dropped from his perch. As he fell, he came down between two of the guards and scissor-kicked them. The blow knocked the guards in either direction; both lost their weapons.

As Keene jumped from the branch, Boz darted out from behind the tree. The third guard was completely caught by the surprise of Keene falling from the sky. He had turned to look, just as his two comrades got knocked aside. That gave Boz the second he needed. He quickly moved behind the third guard, grabbed him under the chin from behind, placed his knee in the middle of the guard’s back, and snapped. From there, he moved to the second guard and took him out, as Keene lunged for the first guard and finished him off. All three guards lay motionless in the fallen leaves.

“They dead?” Keene said, looking at the two guards Boz had dispatched.

“Nope.” Boz pointed at them one at a time. “Sprained back, and choke hold. Yours?”

“No. But he’s going to need a lot of physical therapy. When he wakes up. For the next twenty years.”

“What now?”

Suddenly sirens began ringing up and down the barricade.

“Well, I’d say the plan just went out the window.”

“I knew I should have let you take all three of these guys and go after that fourth guy.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered,” Keene said. “Soon as you gave the call, he was on the radio.” He looked around at the guards. “Quick. Grab their weapons.”

The two of them quickly took the guards’ NP-42 pistols and their SKS-56 rifles, along with the ammo they were carrying. They needed to move. In moments the entire area would be swarming with guards.

“Follow me.”

Keene took off running to the fence, where the three guards had come from. The fourth guard was fumbling to get his pistol out of his holster as soon as he saw Keene. Keene raised the NP-42 he’d taken from one of the guards and fired two short bursts, catching the guard right in the leg. The guard dropped instantly, screaming in pain. As Keene caught up to him, he swung a hard left hook at the guard’s head, knocking him out.

A large military truck was stationed only yards away from the guards’ post. He hoped—no, prayed—the keys were in it.

“This is crazy,” Boz called from behind.

“Got a better idea?”

“Nope. Just saying.”

They reached the truck. Keene jumped into the passenger side. “You drive. I’m a better shot.”

Boz didn’t argue.

The keys were in the truck. Boz fired it up, pushed the clutch, and slammed the truck in gear. “There’s two ways to get on the other side of that barricade. Stop, shoot all the guards, and walk through; or drive right at it, shoot all the guards, and ram through with the truck.”

Keene looked ahead at the scene unfolding before them. The sun had finally begun to crest over the mountain. “Well, seeing as how they’re all running this way, I’d say let’s stay in the truck and ram it.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” Keene looked up to the sky. “Please, God, help us get through this.”

Boz pushed the clutch and shifted gears. “Amen!”

The twenty or so guards who had been racing toward them all stopped and took a knee. At once they leveled their SKSs and opened fire. Bullets pelted the front of the truck as Boz barreled on toward the gate. Keene checked the magazine from the SKS he’d taken from the guard, slammed it home, and leaned out the window. He sprayed a wide arc of gunfire across the field in front of him. Most of the guards who had been shooting dove for cover. Others continued to fire.

This time, Keene took aim through the red-dot sight and began to pick off the guards. And now that Boz had gotten the truck up to speed, and didn’t have to shift, he had his Kimber out the driver’s-side door, firing as well.

They were coming up on the main gate, but the problem was they were coming at it from the side. No chance to ram it from this angle. Boz jerked the wheel and almost threw Keene out of the truck. Keene caught his balance and continued firing. “A little heads-up next time, huh?”

“Sorry.”

The truck was moving away from the barricade now, heading west, on the main road. Keene climbed back inside the truck. Behind them, guards were piling into the other four trucks. Within seconds, the guards were following behind.

Keene moved the canvas separating the cab and the back of the truck and began to climb in the back. He wanted to start shooting from the rear. “Lord, could use some help here.” He’d no sooner moved the canvas when he realized his prayers had been answered. Lying in the back of the truck was a .50 caliber BMG, complete with nine-inch tripod.

“Hey, Boz…”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to buy us thirty seconds. And then turn this junk heap around and head straight for that gate.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Keene jumped in the back and grabbed the machine gun. He grabbed the chain of ammo and fed it into the gun. Next—in between trying to catch his balance from the truck rocking back and forth as Boz weaved to try to evade the guards’ bullets flying at them—he turned around, grabbed his knife from its sheath, and began to cut the canvas top covering the bed of the truck. Once that was done, he reached back, grabbed the .50 cal., and heaved it on top of the cab of the truck. “Okay, turn it around.”

“Hold on to what you got.” Boz slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel. The truck skidded as the rear end swung around. They were facing the guards head-on.

Keene didn’t wait. He opened fire on the guards coming right at them. The machine gun ripped through the oncoming trucks. One by one, they lost control and either ran off the road or flipped over as their drivers had pulled too hard on the wheels trying to evade the deadly machine-gun rounds. Finally, all four guards’ trucks were out of commission. The only thing in their way now was the main gate, which still had a good number of guards.

Boz was headed straight for the gate. Unlike the fence that ran from either side of it, it was made of eighteen-foot-tall chain-link fence with metal straps crisscrossing the chain-link for extra reinforcement. On either side of the gate itself stood two round, makeshift concrete towers—probably fifteen feet in diameter—that rose another ten feet above the gate and fence. Keene took aim right at the base of the left tower.

Shards of concrete began to fly in all directions as Keene blasted the tower’s foundation. Every guard who had been kneeling or standing in front of the tower was getting peppered by the debris. They all began to scatter and take cover.

The better news for Keene and Boz was the fact that the tower wasn’t that stable to begin with. So as Keene continued firing, the tower began to crumble and slide down off its foundation. In a matter of seconds, the whole thing was going to come crashing down. The bad news was it was going to do so right in front of the gate.

Keene pounded on the cab of the truck. “You better punch it, Boz.”

“Roger that!”

Keene held on as Boz shifted the truck again. The truck lurched forward even faster. Keene changed his aim and began laying down a wide arc of gunfire again, on both sides of the gate. They were almost there.

The tower continued to slide. The truck was less than twenty feet from the gate. If they didn’t reach it in the next couple of seconds, the tower would come crashing down right on top of them.

Boz swerved to the right and missed a huge chunk of concrete as it fell. The nose of the truck slammed into the gate and sent it flying. But just as they hit the gate, the rest of the tower gave way and fell, slamming into the rear of the truck. The truck bounced hard, once, then shot to the right. The rear end of the truck pounded into the tower on the right, which sent the truck shooting back to the left.

Keene tried to hold on, but the impact was too much for him. His left side crashed into the steel sides of the bed. As the truck bucked from the collision, he was thrown from the back. He flew a good twenty feet before landing on the hard pavement of the road on the other side of the gate.

He knew immediately that he had at least two broken ribs. His arms looked like they’d just gone through a cheese grater, and he could feel his left ankle already beginning to swell inside his boot. As he looked back, he saw the truck crushed under the rest of the fallen tower.

Boz was still inside.

M
egan woke up as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds. She and Eli had returned to the hotel after their failed trip to Hayes’s house. She was still mad over the fact that neither she nor Eli had done a better job watching for Hayes. She’d spent the better part of the evening fuming over how they’d been caught off guard by a defense attorney.

Eli’s room was next to hers, connected by an in-room connecting door. She got out of bed and pounded on it three times.

“Hey! You up? Hey! Eli? You awa—”

The divider door swung open. Eli was there, wrapped in his blanket. He looked like he was still sleeping. “Well, aren’t you just a bright ray of sunshine.”

“Actually, I hate mornings. Always have. But if I’ve got to be up this early, then I’m not going to sit around hungry. Let’s go. Get dressed.”

“Just go back to sleep,” Eli said from under the covers. He had already fallen back on the bed.

“Let’s go, Eli. You’ve got twenty minutes. Then I’m leaving you.”

Eli poked his head out from under the blanket. “Like you can get ready in twenty minutes.”

Megan smiled. “Yeah? Ask your uncle Boz about that.” She closed the divider door and headed to the bathroom on her own side.

Twenty minutes later, she knocked on the divider door again. Eli opened the door, fully dressed and ready to go. He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”

“Let’s go.”

They left the hotel and drove down the street where they had seen another diner the night before. The front desk clerk told them it would be a good place for breakfast, and he was right. The service was fast, the eggs were soft, the bacon crisp, and the pancakes golden brown.

The waitress came by and asked if they would like another round of coffee as they finished. They said yes and asked for their check. She cleared their plates and left again. They were discussing what their next move was when Megan felt the vibration of the sat-phone in her pocket. She told Eli to grab the check and stepped outside the restaurant so as not to draw attention. With cell signal still nonoperable, someone using a sat-phone would draw unnecessary attention.

“This is Taylor.”

“It’s Jennings.”

“Is everything all right?” Jennings’s tone sounded nervous.

There was a pause on the other end.

“Sir?”

Megan felt her chest tighten. Boz and Jon should’ve returned this morning. She’d been waiting to hear that they’d made it back safely. Now, she had a sudden sickening feeling.

“Sir, is it Jon and Boz? What’s happened? Are they okay?”

“What? Ah…no. I mean, no. It’s not Jon and Boz. I haven’t heard anything from them yet.”

A wave of relief swept over her. “What is it, then?”

“I need you and Eli to check something out for me.”

“Sure, anything.”

“I got a call this morning from someone I know. An informant of sorts. Said there’s something I needed to look into.”

“Does it have anything to do with Pemberton or Hayes?”

“Don’t know. He just said that there’s someone there I would be interested in. He’s at the Super 8 Motel on Capital. Room 119.”

“Okay. We’re going to go follow Hayes today. We can swing over there in a little bit.”

“No, go now. We can’t take the chance of whoever it is leaving.”

“Okay. We’re on our way.”

“Call me when you get there. Let me know what’s going on.”

“Will do.”

Megan closed the phone.

“Who was that?” Eli had come up behind her.

“Jennings. Let’s go. We need to go check something out.”

“Something to do with Pemberton?”

“Probably. But I don’t know.”

“Any word from Uncle Boz?”

“Not yet.”

They jumped in the car, Megan driving. “Look at that map and find Capital Road, or Boulevard, or whatever.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Super 8. Room 119.”

Capital
Boulevard
, as Eli informed her, was only a short drive from where they were. Megan turned the car and headed that direction. Once on Capital, they stopped to ask which direction the Super 8 was. Ten minutes later, they pulled in the parking lot.

Megan checked her weapon and got out of the car. Eli did the same and followed. They approached the room slowly and quietly, looking around for anything suspicious. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And at this hour of the morning, not even the housekeeping service was working.

As they got near, Megan motioned for Eli to take the other side of the door. With her back against the wall next to the door, she reached her arm out and knocked on the door.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

Still nothing.

Eli pulled out his lock-picking kit and showed it to her.