Apocalypse Crucible (31 page)

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Authors: Mel Odom

Tags: #Fiction, #Religious, #Futuristic, #Christian

BOOK: Apocalypse Crucible
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The effort drew a chorus of laughter from the other boys. Joey knew none of them were sober. Only Zero appeared unmoved by the joke. He kept his dead black eyes centered directly on Joey.

Of course there were no parents present, Joey realized. The house wouldn’t have been a mess and the guys wouldn’t have been smoking and drinking if there were parents around.

“Whose house are we in?” Joey asked. Last night’s intoxication had left him blank about that.

“Dude,” RayRay said, “ain’t every house we come to we gotta have an invitation to. We ain’t vampires.” RayRay was athletically trim with a ghost of a mustache that barely stood out against the yellow coloration of his skin. His dark bronze Afro stood up four inches.

“Invitation,” Joey repeated. Only then, like the final number of a school combination lock dropping into place, did he realize what RayRay was talking about.
They broke into this house.
We
broke into this house. We’re trespassing in someone’s home.
Panic fired up inside him. His immediate reaction was to leave—right now, before the police showed up. But with Zero’s blank eyes on him, somehow Joey couldn’t do it. Slowly, very slowly, he forced his tense muscles to relax.

14

United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 0546 Hours

Cal Remington turned at the sound of his name.

CIA Section Chief Alexander Cody made all due haste in his approach. He held a bulky satphone in his right hand.

“I want this room secure,” Remington said to the two privates manning the doors.

“Yes, sir.” Both men snapped into position with their M-4A1s across their chests.

Cody read the movement at once and pulled up little more than arm’s reach from the Rangers. He spread his hands in obvious disbelief. “Captain, is this really necessary?”

“Not as long as you respect the security I’ve placed on this room,” Remington stated evenly.

The three men behind Cody spread out. All of them wore stone faces and kept their arms folded across their chests. Under their jackets, the weapons in their shoulder holsters were only a few inches away.

Remington shifted, turning so he was in profile. His right hand rested easily on his hip above his holstered sidearm. He kept his eyes on Cody, but his peripheral vision would alert him the instant any of the three men made a move.

“You’re holding one of my agents,” Cody protested.

“I was told you didn’t convince my first sergeant of that,” Remington said.

“My verbal ID isn’t enough?”

“Not for me.”

Cody cursed with enough effort that he turned red in the face. “I helped you, Captain. When no one else would lift a finger to aid you or your men along the border during the attack, I put you in contact with a man who could and did help you.”

“You did.” Remington nodded briefly. “However, that man isn’t a United States citizen.”

“So
now
you’re suspicious of him?” Cody looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I was suspicious then. At that point, the satellite systems worked to my advantage. Now, when I need them just as badly, I find that I don’t have access to them.”

“He explained the reasons for that. Surely you can understand the position he’s in.”

Remington noted that they carefully skirted around Nicolae Carpathia’s name. “I understand the position he’s placing himself in. I don’t see that he has to be there at all.” The United Nations appearance Carpathia planned didn’t make sense to the Ranger captain.

Cody’s eyes glittered. “There’s an opportunity there. He’s seizing it.”

“Why?”

Cody pursed his lips, then let out a long breath. “I can’t talk about that.”

“But you know.”

“I know some things, Captain.”

“And the U.S. president supports this?”

“He does,” Cody said. “Haven’t you been watching the news?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“So have I.” Cody leveled a finger at the man sitting in the chair inside the security room. “So have my men.”

Remington waited.

“Captain,” Cody said in a softer voice, “I’m as shorthanded as you are. But taking one of my men is like you losing a company.”

“I’m at less than half my strength after the disappearances and casualties,” Remington said. “I’m stuck here, defending a city that is going to fall no matter what I do, with orders to make that loss last as long as possible.” The captain put steel in his voice. “Don’t you dare compare your situation with mine.”

Cody held up his hands in supplication. “Captain, I don’t mean to insult in any way.”

Remington stepped forward between the two privates, emerging from the defense they offered. He stopped when he was almost nose to nose with the CIA section chief. “What is your mission here?”

“You know my mission here. I’m trying to recover a rogue agent.”

“A rogue agent,” Remington growled, “that you had me risk the lives of my Rangers for. You led me to believe we were rescuing someone.” “You were. Your men did. Those terrorists would have killed him. I’m sure of it.”

“Your guy ran. The first chance he got, he ran.”

Cody took a breath.

“The next day in Sanliurfa,” Remington ground on like an M-3 Bradley armored personnel carrier, “two Americans were killed. Your rogue agent was seen entering the building where their bodies were found.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lie to me,” Remington threatened with slow deliberation, “and things just get harder.” He held up his left hand, his forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “I’m this far—
this far
—from having you and your junior G-men slapped into custody until I finish my mission here.”

“That would be a mistake.” Cody’s eyes turned icy with menace.

“Mister,” Remington declared forcefully, “just about everything involved with this situation is a mistake. Not one of those mistakes has been mine. And I won’t make one now.”

“My mission here is very important, Captain.”

“Prove that to me.”

Cody blew his breath out. “I can’t.”

“Then you step back out of my face, Section Chief Cody.”

Cody didn’t move. “Captain, we’re working on the same side.”

“I don’t know that.”

“I assure you.”

“Tell me what you’re doing here.”

Cody shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Then we don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Captain, you can’t do this.”

Remington raised his voice. “Corporal Hardin.”

“Yes, sir.” At the other end of the hallway, Corporal Dean Hardin stepped around the corner. Four men flanked him. They all held assault rifles at the ready, butts pulled back into their shoulders.

“Show Section Chief Cody and his men to the front door,” Remington said. “I don’t want to see them in this building again.”

“No, sir, Captain,” Hardin said, moving forward slowly with his weapon leveled on the CIA agents. “You won’t, sir. I’ll make certain of it myself, sir.”

Hardin was lean and wolfish. The Kevlar helmet he wore further shadowed his dark features. Bruises from the violent encounter he’d had with Goose still showed on his face.

Goose had caught Hardin robbing American military corpses after the disappearances caused the air support from USS
Wasp
to crash into the hills near the Turkish-Syrian border. Remington knew all about Hardin’s self-serving ways. They weren’t noble, and many of them weren’t legal, but they were all useful. As long as Remington maintained control over them.

“Captain,” Cody implored.

Hardin reached the rearmost CIA agent, who wasn’t moving. Quickly and mercilessly, Hardin swung his weapon around and buttstroked the agent in the face.

Blood erupted from the agent’s face, and he dropped to his hands and knees. A silencer-equipped pistol tumbled from inside his jacket.

Hardin shot a foot forward and captured the pistol under his boot. He reversed his assault rifle and brought it to bear. “The next one of you doesn’t listen when Cap’n Remington tells you to hit the road, I’m going to open up and let a little daylight through.
Capisce?
” He glanced at Cody over his gun sights. “That goes for you too, Chief.”

The agent on the ground groaned in pain. Blood dripped to the floor.

“While we’re at it,” Hardin said, grinning, “why don’t you all just clap your hands to your heads. You know the drill.”

Reluctantly, the CIA agents put their hands on top of their heads.

“Billy,” Hardin said, “help that boy to his feet. But stay out of my field of fire.”

One of the privates came forward and helped the dazed CIA agent to his feet.

“Chief,” Hardin said in an easy conversational tone, “you might want to get your boy to the infirmary. The Sanliurfa citizens are still keeping theirs open. Maybe you can get some joy there. Looks to me like he’s definitely going to need some stitches. And his jaw might be busted.”

Remington noted the gleam in Hardin’s eyes. The corporal liked the violence. During his years as a Ranger, Hardin had made it as far as corporal five times. He’d been busted down in rank each time. After getting caught robbing the dead as he had, he deserved to be broken in rank again. If it had happened during peacetime, Remington probably would have done exactly that. But here and now, with circumstances the way they were in Sanliurfa, Remington wanted Hardin in place.

“Now,” Hardin said, “y’all get moving before I have to turn plumb nasty.”

Grumbling and cursing beneath their breath, the CIA agents started moving.

“A moment, Corporal,” Remington said. He stepped in front of Cody. “Your people have been running rampant through this city. That stops. Today.
Now.
You keep them out of harm’s way.”

“Captain.”

Remington put his finger to his lips like he was shushing a child.

“Don’t talk. You’ll just offend Corporal Hardin and he’ll feel compelled to make you respect his commanding officer.”

Hardin grinned broadly.

“When you decide you can tell me exactly what’s going on here,” Remington said, “you come see me. Then we’ll negotiate what rights and privileges you have open to you while we’re here.”

Cody swallowed hard. His eyes flickered. He clearly didn’t like being dictated to.

“I want you to stop hunting for Icarus,” Remington commanded. “We’ll find him.”

Cody opened his mouth and started to speak.

“Bad idea,” Hardin said softly. “Bad, bad idea.”

Cody’s lips flattened and became a hard, thin line.

“Do you read me, Cody?” Remington asked.

“Yes,” Cody replied, “but—”

Hardin stepped forward and rammed his rifle butt into Cody’s midsection. The CIA man doubled over and retched. Before he could fall, Hardin caught him by the jacket collar and held him up.

“The answer’s ‘Yes, sir,’ ” Hardin said. “Or ‘Yes, Captain.’ You got that?”

Cody nodded and whispered hoarsely, “Yeah, yeah, I got that.”

“Let’s hear it,” Hardin suggested.

“Yes, sir,” Cody said.

Hardin straightened Cody up. “Good. Can you stand on your own?”

Cody nodded.

“Outstanding,” Hardin said. He released Cody and stepped back. “Sir, are we done here?”

“We’re done,” Remington said. “See to it these men are taken out; then rejoin me in this room.”

“Yes, sir.” Hardin put a hand in the middle of Cody’s back and shoved him forward.

Cody glanced back over his shoulder as he stumbled down the hallway. Hardin said something to the man and he turned his eyes forward.

Watching the agent, Remington knew he’d probably made an enemy for life. But that was fine. During his climb to his captaincy, he’d made more than a few enemies. One more wasn’t going to matter.

Turning back toward the security office, Remington caught sight of Goose standing at the other end of the hallway. Silently, the captain cursed himself. Goose had seen everything, and he could tell from the set of Goose’s body and his small frown that the first sergeant didn’t approve. Over the years, they’d butted heads several times while serving together.

You’re not looking for approval from him,
Remington reminded himself when he felt a twinge of guilt over the free hand he’d given Hardin to act.
When you first put on lieutenant’s bars, you stepped up past First Sergeant Goose Gander. You don’t answer to him. You never have.

“I thought I gave you an assignment, First Sergeant,” Remington said in a loud voice.

“You did, sir,” Goose responded. “On my way now. I just thought there might be a problem, sir.”

“There’s not a problem here that I can’t handle.”

“No, sir,” Goose said. “I guess there’s not. Sir.” He turned and walked away.

But you,
Remington thought at Goose’s back,
you’re going to turn out to be a problem, aren’t you, Goose?
The captain took in a deep breath and released it.

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