Mark Young - Off the grid

As he drew closer to the landing pad, Gerrit suddenly heard raised voices on the radio.

“Abandoned cruiser just beached about a click away.” A caller’s transmissions ended with coordinates that only made sense to Kane’s security team.

They found our boat. Search teams would start looking along the shoreline while security tightens. Time was running out.

Gerrit continued to snake his way forward while mentally trying to put himself in Kane’s shoes. What would I do if I suspected an assault? Keep security close to the base of operations and make sure the landing site was covered. So far, nothing like that had been set up. It could only mean one thing.

The heliport was a trap.

He drew near the landing pad and inched forward, feeling just above the ground. There. His hand brushed a taut wire stretched parallel to the ground.

Trip wire.

Carefully, he felt along the wire until he reached what he feared. A trigger for a claymore mine. He felt with his fingertips until he located the safety. He flicked it off to prevent an electrical charge from reaching the blasting cap. He crept along the trip wire until he reached the claymore mine, gingerly removing the blasting cap and primer from the detonation well.

Salty beads of sweat stung his eyes as he finished disarming it. First claymore defused. One down. How many more to go?

There must be others.

He studied the position of the claymore and its potential killing radius across the helipad. Picturing where he would place other claymores, he worked along the edge of the asphalt until he came to another wire. Carefully, he disarmed this mine before searching for the next.

Almost an hour later, he defused four claymores set in a crisscross pattern. Whoever laid these mines also expanded the kill zone to include the cleared brush to the left and right where a chopper might set down. They had planned to kill anyone emerging from the craft, including the flight crew still inside. Once the claymores crippled the chopper, they probably planned to use a tractor to yank the disabled craft from the site to make way for their own inbound helicopters.

He activated his mike. “Alena. Use that phone number I gave you and tell our people to start coming. Make sure you use my name. They have two birds. One will soften the perimeter up while the second will come in behind to drop reinforcements. Make sure they have the latest coordinates of each patrol team out there. They must either wipe them out or force them to seek cover until our guys are on the ground.”

“Understood.”

“And Alena…”

Another transmission click let him know she heard him.

“Relay that four claymores have been deactivated. Make sure they know we’re going to hit the main building the second they reach our location. They have to keep the others off our backs as soon as they touch ground. Got it?”

Two clicks gave him the answer.

“Good. When you get that message off, both of you move up to my position. And stay low.”

He covered the face of his watch and turned on the light: 10 p.m. Five minutes later, he saw Alena and Willy moving toward him. He waited until they drew near. “Okay, let’s start toward the building. I want to be able to move the moment our backup gets here.”

He started out and the others followed in single file.

They crawled about ten feet when floodlights came on. The harsh light bathed the open field like a football stadium on game night. They lay there naked to the world.

Someone must have spotted them.

He sprang from the ground. “Alena. Willy. Run for it. Now!”

The elevator door opened and Richard Kane strode toward the security console. “Give me an update.”

The Hulk glanced up, blinking twice. “Someone just triggered the laser beams to the landing site.”

“I gave strict orders for our people to stay away from there. We have it set up for any incoming visitors.”

Nodding, the Hulk seemed to shrink in his chair. “I know, sir. I believe we’ve got combatants inside our security compound. Look!” He pointed to the color monitor directly overhead.

Richard glanced up and saw three figures darting across the open field. “Zoom in. I want to see their faces.”

Feverishly, the Hulk pounded on the keys until the camera swooped in. For just a second, Richard saw the side view of Gerrit as he flashed by. Then the images disappeared.

Richard whirled around. “They got to the building. Lock us down. Now!”

An alarm sounded, harsh beeps pulsating through the building. Richard scurried toward the elevator. “I will be down on the lower level. Keep me posted.”

Gerrit pressed his back against the side of the building. Alena and Willy crouched next to him. They tried to catch their breath, listening for any sounds coming their way.

Nothing.

“Cover me.” Gerrit pushed off the wall. He peeled away and zigzagged a path to the front steps. Large flagstone steps led to the front door. Seeing a camera above the door, he used the butt of his rifle to smash the lens, although they must have already spotted him.

He lowered his backpack and pulled out a det cord and packed it around the door, letting out the line to the detonator. Gerrit grabbed his pack and retraced his steps down the stone entryway until he stood next to Alena and Willy, dragging the line with him. They stood, shielded from the recessed door.

“Cover your ears,” he hissed, a moment before setting off the blast. As smoke settled, Gerrit leaned out to see the damage. The blast punched a hole in the entryway, the door flung inward to allow easy access, one hinge still stubbornly holding it up.

“Willy, let Alena and me do a quick sweep, then you follow.”

“Copy, Mr. G. The cavalry’s ten minutes away.”

“Tell them we need them now! We just hit the building and Kane’s security must be moving our way.”

Ten minutes seemed ten hours right now. Patrol units would be converging here within minutes. They did not have that long to survive.

30,000 Feet above Boise, Idaho

Beck looked up just as Jack came into the cabin area. “Bad news?”

Thompson’s normally unreadable face wrinkled with concern. The colonel flung himself into the seat across from Beck. “Just got a message from our guys. Choppers took off about five minutes ago and the unit commander just got another message from Willy.”

Beck said nothing, waiting for Thompson to continue.

“They’ve been spotted. Gerrit cleared the landing site of claymores, but they set off an alarm system as they were moving toward the lab. Says they need help now. Not sure they can hold out.”

“Anyway backup can get there quicker?”

Thompson shook his head. “They’re already slamming pedal to the metal. They can’t go any faster.”

Beck leaned on the arm of his chair, chin resting on a tightly clenched fist. “They can’t hold Kane off for that long.”

Thompson nodded. “Willy hasn’t been able to break into Kane’s system yet.”

“Can Willy tell what might be happening once he breaks in?”

“The only good news so far. He reports that he should be able to verify that what we started in Albuquerque is piggybacking on Kane’s transmissions. The Trojan horse we sent in should be going to work on Project Megiddo right now.”

“So what Gerrit and Alena are doing at the moment may be all for nothing.”

Glumly, Thompson leaned back in his chair. “Everything they do now may be just a big smoke screen, one last attempt to save Joe. We still don’t know where Kane’s main servers are stored. My people-once they get there-have orders to blow the place.”

“No updates on Joe?”

“Nothing. Don’t even know if he’s there, let alone whether he’s alive.”