Mark Young - Off the grid

“Like I said, I’ve never met the guy.”

“Kind of a strange bird. Can’t really find much about him. Even through my connections through SOCOM. This guy’s a ghost.”

“He sent you here?”

“Your uncle, through Beck, sent me here. Small world, huh?” Jack stretched out, flexing his back. “So, give me the lowdown on your operation. How can I help?”

Gerrit laid out what they’d found to date about Millennium Technology and the security layout at the plant.

Jack saw Gerrit smiling. “What’s so funny?”

“Come down to my room, sir. I wanna introduce you to the rest of the team.”

“I hope you’re not hooked up with a bunch of hippies and fruitcakes. I’ve heard stories.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find them very interesting. Not your run-of-the-mill Marines. But I think they’ll do just fine against Charlie.”

Jack eyed him suspiciously. “Whatcha got me into, son?”

Gerrit just shook his head. “Come and see, sir. I guarantee this group won’t bore you.”

Gerrit watched Jack Thompson and the others eye each other like boxers entering a ring before the first round. Maybe he was wrong. Jack and Redneck seemed to get along like oil and water. The colonel and the giant looked like they wanted to exchange blows. Gerrit had to find a way to pull everyone together.

“Look,” Gerrit said, “I know Colonel Thompson from my days with Special Ops. He’s a good man, and I’d follow him into combat anywhere. And make no mistake about it, that is exactly what we face here at Millennium Technologies. It was pure luck I spotted Kane’s gal Collette. She’s a stone killer in my book, and she has all the resources of Kane’s people behind her. So whatever help the colonel can bring to the table, I gladly accept. Everyone on board with this?”

Alena and Willy nodded their consent, but Redneck didn’t budge. Gerrit saw a gleam in the big guy’s eye that meant trouble. “Spit it out, R. D. What’s eating you?”

The giant pulled his attention away from Jack and focused on Gerrit. “It’s one thing for you to be calling the shots, jarhead. It’s quite another for Mr. Stars amp; Stripes here to join our party. I don’t know him from Adam. For all I know, he’s been riding a desk his whole career.”

Jack bristled. “Look here, you dimwitted monkey. I won’t take any lip from some overweight bar brawler. I only work with someone who’ll follow orders, not whine when things get tough.”

Redneck’s fists closed like two sledgehammers.

“Hey, you guys. We’re supposed to be on the same side.” Gerrit turned to the big man. “Look, Joe trusts this man. I trust him, and I’ve been through more than one operation to know this guy is tough. He can help us pull this off with minimum casualties.”

He turned to Jack. “Sir, Beck Malloy and Joe have depended on this group to carry off some very tough assignments-including saving my life up in Seattle. I trust them…and I’m asking you to do the same.”

The fight seemed to slip from both men’s eyes. Redneck’s hands relaxed, the man looking at the others. “If you guys wanna work with this guy, then I guess I can, too.”

Jack’s muscles eased. “Okay, Gerrit, tell me how you want to tackle this op. Let’s figure how to get you in and out in one piece.”

Gerrit motioned for everyone to gather around a table in the motel room. He laid out his plan, eliciting support information Jack might be able to supply.

Gerrit looked at each member of the team. “I’ve got to be honest. Based on these plans and the tools Jack brings to the table, we have a 50 percent chance of success. Timing and surprise must be on our side. We’ll have a small window of opportunity to make this work. Otherwise, our chances of success drop to 10 percent.”

Alena looked at him. “Fifty percent is not good odds. Ten percent…” She just shook her head.

“That’s why it is so important that we work together on this,” Gerrit said. “Understood?”

Everyone nodded. His estimates made everyone seem to finally draw together. Even Jack and Redneck seemed to be getting along by the end of Gerrit’s presentation.

At least for the moment.

Darkness had fallen, and the others had returned to their rooms to get some rest. Jack lay sprawled on Gerrit’s bed, snoring, after their strategy session, staying close in case they needed to move fast. Gerrit paced his room, trying to make sure he’d thought of all the contingencies they might face.

He heard the tires of a vehicle rolling across the parking lot. He opened the curtain and peered down from the second floor. A marked police vehicle pulled next to their van, and an officer had quietly opened his door and drawn his weapon.

Gerrit pulled back into the darkness of the room. “Jack, wake up,” he hissed, never taking his eyes off of the officer below. The cop approached the vehicle, flashing a light inside the van before reaching for his shoulder mike.

He’s calling it in. Did Geronimo sell us out?

Jack stood next to him. Gerrit had never heard the man get up and cross the room. “What do you have, Lieutenant.”

Gerrit motioned toward the scene below. “We need to get out of here. I think we’ve been made.”

Jack nodded and snatched up his bag. “Get the others. Meet me in the back lot behind the motel. I’ll be standing by my ride. A tan unmarked.”

Gerrit nodded, opened the front door, and edged along the outside wall, keeping out of sight from the cop below. Several minutes later, he alerted the others and they quickly snatched up their belongings. He led them down the hall, turning right into an intersecting hallway that spilled into a rear parking lot.

He started down the stairs when a second patrol unit pulled into the back lot. It slowly rolled through the lot, flashing its spotlight on each car. The light illuminated Jack, sitting in a desert-colored Buick sedan. The officer must have spotted the colonel because brakes screeched as the squad car came to a stop. Jack emerged from the vehicle.

Gerrit crouched-motioning for the others to pull back into the shelter of the hallway-as he peered around the coroner. As Jack stepped around his car, the officer sprang from the patrol car, hand resting on the butt of his gun.

“Good evening, Officer. Can I help you?” Jack’s voice boomed out across the parking lot.

“We got a call about a possible stolen vehicle, a van, parked on the other side of this building. Did you see anyone drive up in a white van? It has Phil’s Plumbing on the side.”

“No kidding? Stolen, you say?” Jack scratched his jaw. “Can’t say I’ve seen anything. I just came out here to get away from the grandkids. Taking them all the way to Disneyland-a trip of pure torture, if you know what I mean. I’ve just been sitting out here a few minutes, trying to get a bit of peace and quiet. Haven’t seen a soul.”

The officer studied him for a moment, then walked back to his car. A vehicle pulled in behind the police car. A police unmarked? Gerrit tried to peer past the cop’s headlights and focus on the car. He heard a car door open and a man step out. Another car across the lot started up and headlights flicked on. The headlights caught the surprise in the man’s face.

Geronimo Sanchez.

Geronimo walked up to the police car and spoke quietly to the cop. The cop nodded. Both men returned to their vehicles and slowly pulled around to the other side of the building.

Jack climbed back into his car. At least the Albuquerque cop never knew Jack was a part of the team. That would buy them a little time.

Gerrit motioned to the others. They hurried down the stairs and jogged to Jack’s car and climbed in just as another patrol vehicle came into the lot.