Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Revenge

Having a security system was one thing, but a roving camera was excessive even for a federal building. Something deep down inside made her step away from the woods.

“Luke,” Steele called out in a low voice. The deputy was nowhere to be seen.

“Luke,” she said, a little louder now.

Nothing.

The house appeared deserted. What was a peaceful cabin now seemed creepy.

“Damn you, Luke,” she muttered under her breathe. “Stay in my line of sight.”

She found herself tracing the exterior of the car with her hand, while staring at the home searching for clues. She was deciding what to do next when she heard a noise. A man-made noise. She was ducking behind the car when the first shot was fired. It whizzed past her ear and startled her to the ground.

“Shit,” Steele cried. Frantically, she pulled her gun out and poked her head up to see through the windows. A barrage of gunshots rang out pelting the side of the car and shattering the windows. She crouched below the window line and grabbed her phone to hit the send button. A moment later she heard Matt’s voice. With gunshots ringing out into the wilderness, all she could think to say was, “You busy?”

Matt was finishing up a strategy session with Nick and Walt when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He looked to see it was Jennifer.

“What’s up?” he said, but immediately heard the familiar sound of gunfire and shouted, “Jennifer?”

“You busy?” she asked, panic in her voice.

“Where are you?” Matt said. Nick and Walt stopped their conversations and surrounded Matt. Nick put his ear close to Matt’s receiver.

“385 Willow,” she yelled. “They’ve got Luke.”

“Are you near the car? Can you get out?” Matt said.

“Yes.”

“Get the fuck out of there Jennifer,” Matt shouted.

“But, Luke-”

“Luke is dead,” Matt said, breaking into a trot out through the door. “Get out, now,” Matt yelled again to Steele.

Barzani watched the deputy get taped to a chair in the kitchen while his security team pelted the female FBI agent with round after round of rifle and pistol shots from the upstairs windows. It was getting dark outside, but he could still see the agent crouched behind the car. Barzani knew they had to kill her quickly before backup came.

Mano Surtek was playing with a plastic remote while watching the activity outside.

One of Barzani’s personal security guards tugged on his arm. “We need to get you out of here, Sarock,” the man said.

Barzani shook off the guard. He was too captivated to leave. The woman FBI agent was cornered and he was willing to wait a few moments to enjoy the kill.

“Tell them to hold their fire,” Barzani said.

The security guard ran around out of the kitchen and up the stairs. A few moments later the shots ceased.

As expected, the female FBI agent took the opportunity to open the driver’s side door and sneak into the car. The woman was good, he could barely see her head sticking up as she stepped on the gas and spun dirt with her tires.

Barzani placed a hand on Mani’s shoulder while staring intently on the road in front of the car.

“Ready?’ Barzani asked.

“Yes, Sarock,” Mano said, hovering his thumb over a button on the remote control detonator. As the sheriff’s car fishtailed down the unpaved street, Mano timed the vehicle’s forward motion perfectly.

He pushed the button.

The car jumped up in a ball of flame as the explosion catapulted the vehicle five feet in the air. It tilted the car sideways and the charred shell skidded to a stop just before hitting a large pine. The blast echoed throughout the woods and Barzani couldn’t keep the smile from his face as debris from the car littered down over a stand of trees.

“Now,” Barzani said, nodding with satisfaction. “Now we can go.”

Matt raced down the gravel road and drove furiously until he saw the devastating sight. Jennifer’s car sat on its side, smoke drifting from its carcass.

Nick, Matt and Walt jumped out of the car and ran to the disfigured vehicle. Heat still steamed off the metal in shimmery waves.

Matt ran up to look inside the shell and saw nothing. He turned around in a circle searching for clues, then looked at the cabin and saw the upstairs windows open. He pulled out his Glock and said, “The house.”

Nick and Walt took attack positions around the perimeter of the cabin. Matt tried to catch his breath. Nick was already at the front door and gestured for him to take the back.

Matt’s heart pounded in desperation as he crept along the back wall of the house. He peeked up into a window and saw nothing unusual, but nightfall was making it difficult. His mind wandered dangerously to the fate of the only one he’d ever loved. Jennifer needed to be safe. Breathe, he thought. As he approached the back door, his hand trembled while reaching for the knob.

“Are you looking for me?” a female voice said behind him.

He whirled around to see Jennifer Steele smiling with leaves clinging to her jacket and dirt covering her face.

Matt grabbed her and squeezed her until she squealed, “I’m okay.”

Relief flooded his system. His vision blurred and he wiped his eyes to clear it.

“Hey,” Steele said, “you’re not getting moist on me are you?”

“What the … why didn’t you call me?”

“Sorry, I dropped my phone in the car as I rolled out.”

“Rolled out?”

“Well,” she said, “you always taught me to watch for booby traps with these guys. I saw a bump in the road which looked like an IED, so I jammed a rock on the accelerator and rolled out and down that incline.”

“Are they gone?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t raise my head to see what they were driving, Matt. Sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms again. “It’s okay.”

The back door opened and Walt said, “You better get in here.”

Before they even reached the kitchen Matt could smell death in the air. Luke sat in a chair, his arms hanging limp, his head slumped down. When Matt circled around the deputy, he could see the long slice mark across his neck. The blood had drained out and left nothing to hope for.

Nick leaned over and kissed Luke on the forehead, then turned and put his hand over his mouth as he paced a small oval.

On Luke’s chest was a piece of paper jammed into his torso with a boning knife. The note read, “You’re next.”

“Shit,” Matt said.

Nick’s pace quickened as he simply shook his head and murmured obscenities.

Walt looked at Steele. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“You see them leave?”

“No,” she said, with a tinge of shame on her face. “I had to take cover.”

They seemed to stay quiet while Nick worked things out in his head. Finally, he turned to Steele and pointed. “Call the State Police and get roadblocks up on 60 and 260. Maybe fifty miles out. Did you get the color of the vehicle?

“It was a white SUV. Maybe a Suburban?”

“Give them what you know. Tell them it’s a long shot, but prepare them.”

Steele fished her hand into Matt’s pocket and pulled out his phone, then went outside for the call.

Nick pointed to Walt. “You need to get to L.A.”

Walt cocked his head in apparent confusion.

“Because,” Nick said, “if I’m wrong about LAX, they’ll crucify you. And right now I can’t afford to have anyone else I care about get hurt.”

Walt didn’t argue. He had a family to feed as well.

“Besides,” Nick added, “you go over there and cause a big ruckus, it might give Barzani a false sense of security. Like we’ve lost their scent.”

Sirens blared nearby.

Nick adjusted his arm sling. He looked down at Luke with a tight chin. “Walt,” he said, “before you go, get Stevie Gilpin on the red eye. Have him bring his bag of toys with him.”