Battle Road (14 page)

TWENTY SIX

At 10:35pm, the female police officer approached the abandoned vehicle partially hidden in the bushes of the empty lot. An elderly neighbor had called the police as soon as he saw the lights in the field earlier that evening. Teenagers were always partying there, breaking beer bottles, and making too much noise. The neighbor wasn't putting up with their crap any longer.

The officer pushed a branch off the rear of the car and shined her flashlight on the license plate. They were Massachusetts plates. At first she thought this was just another routine call. Probably delinquent punks dumping another stolen automobile. She moved another branch away from the side of the car, instantly recognizing the outline of the classic Jaguar.

In the command center at Homeland Security an agent monitoring the police communication channels stood up from his console and rushed over to the front of Senior Agent Goodman's desk. “Sir, we've found the car. It's been abandoned in a residential neighborhood in Arlington.” Goodman stopped what he was doing on his computer and slapped the top of his desk with an open palm, “Yes! This is our start. I want DHS Agents to the get to the scene as soon as possible. I want tire impressions taken of any nearby tracks. Are their any nearby surveillance cameras?”

Goodman got up from his seat and walked over to the group of agents responsible for communicating to the various local law enforcement organizations. “Find out if the Arlington police have any reported cars stolen from the area. I want an answer in under five minutes. Also, get me the Arlington Police Chief on the line.”

The five minutes Goodman set as an arbitrary deadline came and passed. “Have we got a response? And where's that God damned police chief?” Goodman asked. He continuously checked his digital wristwatch. An agent called out, “We're being told to wait. Arlington police  have a call coming in now that may be of interest.”

At the eight minute mark, Arlington Police Chief James Fitzgerald called the Homeland Security command center and was routed over to Goodman. Fitzgerald spoke first, “We just got a report a few minutes ago regarding a stolen automobile on Claremont Ave. That's about a half a mile away from the location of the Jaguar we discovered. My officers are transferring the details to your agents now. The stolen vehicle was an older model Ford Vista 2024. Body color, maroon. The owner believes the theft occurred between eight thirty and ten o'clock tonight.”

“Great, send the information out Chief.” Agent Goodman said. “One more question. If you had stolen that car, then dumped the Jaguar in that field, what direction would you head in?” The video display on the Goodman's monitor showed Chief Fitzgerald looking off in the distance, motioning with his finger to someone he'd be right with them. The Chief looked into the camera, responding, “Traveling in the direction from where the theft occurred to where the Jaguar was recovered, ah, that takes you out to Mass Ave. If it were me trying to get away, I'd stay on Mass Ave and drive east into Cambridge. It's easier to hide in the city.” “Good to know. Thanks Chief.” Confirming exactly what Agent Goodman thought.

Agent Carmen, a senior level officer, working the late shift reported to the command center as ordered. She walked up to Goodman. “What can I do, Sir?” Goodman tapped his pen on the top of the desk absentmindedly while issuing his orders. “You'll be taking over at midnight. See Agent Smith to get caught up with the details of the case. Then report back to me.” As soon as he was finished with Agent Carmen, Goodman got up from his chair and began issuing orders to the various agents, “I want all the digital recordings from every fixed surveillance camera in Harvard Square, Porter Square, and Davis Square analyzed. And I want the all data analyzed from every hover drone on patrol in Cambridge.”

Agent Goodman knew he had to think like his prey. They would ditch the stolen vehicle in Cambridge and either walk or take public transportation. No, he thought, they wouldn't try to cross military checkpoints or risk being caught out in the open by surveillance drones. The fugitives, he reasoned, would escape via public transportation. “I want all the video from the Cambridge mass transit stations. Get those face recognition computers running overtime. And I want every available agent here reviewing the video. It's going to be a late night,” Goodman ordered.  He knew it was already too late to shut down the transit system. Tracking them was his only option.

By midnight, Goodman was exhausted. He'd been up for nearly twenty hours. He handed the command over to Agent Carmen. “If anything of importance comes up, I want to be notified immediately,” Goodman ordered before heading off to one of the residences in Building 2. The computer analysis of all the surveillance recordings would take hours, if not the rest of the night.

TWENTY SEVEN

Tien and Dylan took the elevator up to the forth floor of the mid rise condominium. They leaned against the wall of the elevator and against one another. It was a little past twelve in the morning. The adrenaline that kept them moving all day and night had been exhausted. “I could sleep for a week,” Dylan said. Tien looked up at him. Her eyes were as red as his. “It's to be expected. Our bodies have been under heavy stress for over sixteen hours.”

Getting off the elevator, they searched for unit 414. The condominium number that Tien was given. The condo was at the end of the hallway. “Here goes nothing,” she said, punching in the code for the keypad on the door. The locking mechanism beeped twice, a green LED flashed, and the door opened with a clicking sound. “Lights on,” Tien said, entering the apartment first.

The condominium was cold and had an odd smell, a brand new smell, as if no one had ever lived in the place. Dylan and Tien walked around, inspecting the place the way  people often do when they enter a hotel room for the first time. “Set temp to seventy degree's,” Tien said. The synthesized male voice of the home computer responded, “Setting heating system to seventy degrees Fahrenheit.”

The condominium was clean, a spotless clean. It was a one bedroom, sparsely furnished, and plainly decorated. It didn't have a lot of space, but it was more than they needed.

Dylan checked the kitchen. There were lots of cans and boxes of food in the pantry. There wasn't much in the refrigerator, mostly food in sealed jars, a twelve pack of soda, and unopened condiments. Items that would last a long time. The freezer, however, was packed with frozen dinners. He took a couple of the frozen meals out and tossed them into an empty self of the refrigerator. With a yawn, he grabbed a can of soda. Though before opening it, he took a second look at the soda, realizing it had caffeine, and put it back.

Walking into the living room with a glass of water, Dylan was surprised to see Tien holding a handgun. She was standing in front of what looked to be a hidden panel containing a small armory of weapons. She didn't pay attention to Dylan entering the room while she inspected a 9mm automatic. Pulling the ammunition clip out, she checked that it was full. Then made sure the firing mechanism was well oiled and functioning. She slid the clip back in and placed the gun down on an end table next to the hidden panel. “Do you know to how to handle a firearm?” Tien asked. Without waiting for his answer, she reached for one of the machine pistols hung on the rack inside the panel and pulled it down. She inspected the gun, pulling out the ammo clip as she had done for the handgun.

Dylan didn't respond at first. Not until she put the machine pistol back in it's spot on the rack and turned to face him did he answer. “No, not really. I was going to say how I use to shoot 22 rifles in camp when I was like twelve years old. But somehow I didn't think you'd appreciate that story.” He smiled and took sip of water.

Tien closed the door to the panel. “Well, you're gonna have a crash course starting in the morning.” She picked up the handgun on the table and verified the safety was on. “But right now, it's time for bed,” she said, carrying the gun with her into the bedroom. “I'll second that,” he said, putting the glass of water down on the coffee table and following her.

The DHS command center grew quiet after midnight. Every available agent in the room studied video surveillance on their computer screens. Facial recognition computers were running full throttle. However, human observation and intuition were still the most important aspect in these kinds of manhunts.

At five minutes past two in the morning, Agent McGowan, sitting in the fifth row of the command center stood up and walked over to Agent Carmen. “We've found something, Ma'am. A maroon 2024 Ford Vista was discovered near Davis Square by one of our patrol cars. We ran the plates. The registration doesn't match the vehicles' make and model. This is probably the car. We're checking the vehicle identification number now. We should have those results in a couple of minutes. I'll route that data to your computer.”

A smile crossed Agent Carmen's face. “Good work. Yes, we'll assume this is our car until we know otherwise. Have that car gone over with a fine tooth comb. They may have left clues. Everyone, let's focus our video surveillance on Davis Square.” She walked over to the far end of the room. “Agent Epstein, pull up the data for all of the drones patrolling in Davis Square. Focus on the time period of eight thirty to eleven.” She picked up her v-phone to make a call to Goodman.

TWENTY EIGHT

Dylan awoke at nine thirty the next day. He stretched and rolled over to his side to see that Tien was no longer in bed. He rolled again onto his back.  Noticing the smell coffee brewing in the kitchen, his senses started to return.

He waddled into the kitchen still half asleep. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled. He found Tien sitting on the stool at the kitchen island made of white engineered stone, intently reading the news on an older model tablet computer. A mug of coffee by her side. “Good morning. Coffee is right over there. I took out a mug for you too. It's right there.” She made a pointing gesture towards the coffee machine while keeping her eyes fixed on the computer screen. She was engrossed in the news reports she was reading. “Good morning,” he said while pouring himself a cup of brew and rubbing his eyes.

Once Dylan took his first sip of coffee, Tien put the tablet down to speak with him. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby. I would have slept all day if I didn't force myself out of bed. You look up and at 'em. How did you sleep?” He took another sip of the coffee.

“
Fine. I would have slept all day myself if I could have. I got up at seven. How are you feeling?”

Dylan shrugged his shoulders, “OK.”

“Good, because I have a lot to talk to you about. I wanted to give you the chance to wake up first. I got online this morning with my commanding officer. Unfortunately, I have some bad news. Homeland Security arrested Brooksie late last night.”

Dylan woke right up. He put his coffee cup down, then slammed the palm of his hand against a kitchen cabinet, “Fuck. What are we going to do?”

Tien shook her head, “Dylan, I'm sorry but there's nothing we can do.”

Dylan was pissed.
“What will they do to him?” She took a sip of her coffee before responding. “He'll tell them everything he knows. Then they'll torture him some more. But I don't think it will be too bad for him. I'm certain Joanne will collaborate the fact that he doesn't know anything.”
Dylan calmed down, accepting the situation. He slowly realized Brooksie's fate was sealed the minute he helped them escape.
I shouldn't have involved him
, he thought.

“
We've been ordered to stay low. Make like Anne Frank and stay here in this place for the next week. We'll have some fresh food delivered tomorrow,” Tien said.

“
Just sit here and do nothing!”

“
We're the top news story this morning. Apparently we've committed a series of grisly murders across the State. We've even killed a couple of children. Our faces are pictured everywhere, on every media device there is.”

Dylan sat down on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. He starred off with a blank expression.

Tien became worried about him, but thought it best to just let everything sink in. She continued, “It was clever of Homeland Security to add the part about the children. I'll give them that much. Everyone hates child murderers. People are going to remember our pictures. And of  course Homeland will blast the story on all of their media outlets until we're caught.”

“
That's just fucking great,” he said, shaking his head.

“
You need to say calm. Keep your head together. We'll be alright as long as we stay focused. Speaking of, after we work on your firearms training this morning, we'll prepare our makeup and disguises.”

“
Sorry, you're right.”

Tien reached over and put her hand over his. “We're going to make it. Also, just to let you know. I was assigned a new mission once things have cooled off. I have to track down a high level Freedom Party official and terminate her. It's a top priority. My guess is they assigned it to me to keep me busy. Keep me occupied while we're hiding out.”

Dylan listened, taking it all in, yet his gears were grinding in another direction. “I got it. I know how we can help Brooksie. We take out Agent Goodman. We kill him.”

Tien let out a quick gasp. “And I thought you where going to tell me you had your own ideas how you'd keep me occupied while we were hiding out. With long days together, trying to kill all that time.” She smiled playfully at him. “I'm sorry,” he said, “But I'm thinking, it's personal for Goodman. Right now he's after us because I screwed him over. Betrayed his trust. He's not going to stop, ever, until we're killed or captured. That's why he has Brooksie. If we assassinate Goodman, there won't be anyone in Homeland Security command that has a score to settle. They just might let him go. He's not a part of this. He doesn't know anything.”

Tien thought he made sense. “I'll bring it up with command.” She knew full well she would never be given permission from command to work with someone who had zero tactical experience. “What do you think? Are we a team?” Dylan asked. Tien didn't want him to loose hope for his friend. “I'll think it over. But keep in mind, my command has to approve any missions we undertake. It's unusual for field operatives to make such requests. But not altogether unheard of. Depends on the situation. However, if we get a no-go from command there is no mission. Do you understand. Nor is there any further requests. Their orders are final,” Tien said, with a somber expression. “OK, OK,”  he acknowledged.

Tien picked up her tablet computer again. “There's frozen waffles in the freezer. I already ate,” she said. After Dylan threw some waffles in the toaster, Tien responded to the question he had asked earlier. “Thinking it over, yes we are a team. But only on one condition. I'm in command. You follow orders from me. And I follow orders from my commanding officers.” “Alright, yeah. I'm good with that,” Dylan agreed, without thinking twice about it. “After breakfast, we'll start in with your weapons training. If we want to survive, we have to be prepared for anything. And be prepared as soon as possible,” she said.

While finishing up his breakfast, Dylan heard Tien gently knocking on the hallway wall between the kitchen and living room. Still chewing his last bite of food, he got up to observe her listening to what part of the wall sounded hollow. “First things first,” she said. She opened a hidden door, showing Dylan the makeshift escape tunnel. “Every safe house has an emergency escape route. This one is a vertical shaft between the walls. It goes down five stories; four floors and into the basement. In the basement there's a hidden door leading to the sewer system.” She showed him how to use the ropes and harnesses for the pulley system. “It can't be an electric elevator. If we were surrounded and had the power cut off it'd be useless. So, we use this for high rise buildings.” She hit a light switch on the side of the tunnel wall and peered down the shaft to verify the battery powered lights were functioning. Dylan gave the ropes a good look over, before peering down the shaft. “Let's just hope we don't need to use it,” he said.

Tien wasn't going to waste any time. She shut the lights off to the tunnel and closed the hidden door before leading Dylan into the living room. She walked over and opened the panel to the weapons cache. An array of weapons hung on a rack before them. “OK, let's get started, we have one modified M4 assault rifle with missile launch tube, one combat Gatling machine gun, two machine pistols, four 9 millimeter automatic handguns.....” “Uhmm, I only see three 9 millimeter's,” Dylan cut her off. “You saw me take the fourth last night.” She took one of the  handguns down off the rack, checked the safety was on, and handed it to him. “Hold on to this. Keep it pointed down for now. From this moment on, always keep it on you or nearby. We'll start your training with it.” Dylan looked the gun over, from side to side, then pointed it down.

Tien leaned over and pulled open one of the drawers beneath the rack of guns. “An we have an assortment of ammunition, magazine clips, grenades, missiles for the M4, about two pound of C4 explosives with detonators, a few thousand US dollars, and this.....” She pulled out from one of the larger side drawers a shiny metallic suite case, about eighteen inches square and ten inches deep. She carried it over and put it on the coffee table.

“
Sit down next to me,” Tien requested. They sat down on the couch together while Tien opened the case carefully. Dylan recognized what it was immediately. “Nice! A German made digital transmission jamming set for airborne drones. Actually any kind of battlefield drone; land, sea, or air. These are issued to soldiers in the field. It'll detect the presence of weaponized drones like our Reapers.”

“
Yeah it detects Reapers,” Tien added, “Though, more importantly, it'll jam the targeting of anti-personnel or Hellfire missiles. It's not 100% effective. But it gives us a good chance of surviving a Reaper attack.” She checked it's battery charge level before continuing, “This may be our most important weapon.”

Dylan looked over the device, thinking to himself for a moment. “This is why the rebellion wanted me, wasn't it. You can interfere with the trajectory of Hellfire missiles. But you can't take active control of the communications to the Reapers, or reconnaissance drones for that matter.” Tien didn't mince her words, “Yes. That's exactly why we wanted you. Imagine if we were able to use those Reapers against Homeland Security itself. Or at the very least, block the communications. Those drones would fall out of the sky. They still want you to help us in this area. I didn't tell you this earlier, but, my orders are to see that you are safely brought into command headquarters after we've laid low for a while.”

Throughout the remainder of the morning and into the early afternoon, Tien showed Dylan how to operate each weapon. Explaining how to fire, how to load, where the safety latches were. “The M4 also fires these,” Tien held up a five and a half inch long explosive missile. “These are the cheaper versions of the laser targeted smart missiles. These you just point and shoot.” She proceeded to show him how to load the missiles into the M4.

Tien held up one of the machine pistols. “If we're outside in a public place you always point these automatic weapons downward. If you accidentally pull the trigger in a crowd of people, with full auto on, you could kill I don't know how many people with a single burst. This is a serious weapon. And memorize the location of the safety switch for every weapon. Feel for it with your eyes closed. You'll always keep the safety on until you need to fire it.” Dylan took the machine pistol out of Tien's hand and studied it thoroughly. Tien added, “I can't say it enough, memorize the location of the safety.”

Dylan practiced loading the magazine clip into the machine pistol. Then flipping the safety switch back and forth. He raised a valid point, “Why don't we just keep the safety off at all times. Then we don't have to worry about it.” Tien shook her head side to side, then labored to answer him. “OK, that's a fair question. There are several reasons we keep the safety's on and I should have told you. I'm rushing.” She took the weapon back from Dylan and held it up for him to see and make her point. “These automatic weapons have hair triggers. They're designed to fire with minimal pressure on the trigger. Because of that they can fire accidentally. If we don't have the safety's on we could kill ourselves or each other. We could kill civilians. Or we could give our positions away at the wrong time. Got it?” “OK, got it,” Dylan replied. She removed the ammo clip and handed the gun back to him.

“
Alright, now I'll go over how to fire the weapon,” she said, “Keep your feet apart, like this.” Tien planted her feet in a firm stance.

Dylan mimicked the stance. “OK.”

“Now hold the weapon out with both hands. You left hand holding the barrel. Your finger on the trigger.”

Once the preliminary training was over, Tien turned to face Dylan. “As I mentioned in the kitchen earlier, I'm in charge. You do what I say, when I say. You don't hesitate. You don't question me. Do you understand?”

“
Yes, completely,” Dylan answered. He wanted to say something funny but thought he better not.

“
Good, because our lives depend upon it. I'm going to bring you in to headquarters when we're given the go ahead and provided the plan on how to accomplish that. But if something goes wrong we may have to fight. Hopefully not. But you have to be prepared.”

Tien paused and looked at Dylan with a serious expression. “There's something else I have to mention. This is the most important thing. More important than anything else you do. Listen carefully. I can't be taken alive. If we're surrounded, about to be taken captive, I have this pill to swallow.” She held up a small white pill for him to see. “I'll need to keep this on me at all times from now on. It's painless, kills in under thirty seconds.”

“No, you can't do.......” Dylan was stopped from protesting. “Listen. We're not playing games here. This is for real. These guns are real. When we go out there, we're not fucking around. This is life or death. So listen. It's not always possible to take the pill out and swallow it. I could be injured or knocked unconscious. You have a direct order from me, a standing order. If we're about to be captured and I can't swallow this pill. You have to shoot me. One shot into my head. Understand. Not in my chest. One shot to my head.”

“
I can't do that. No way.” Dylan cupped his hands behind his head.

“
You're orders are to keep your sidearm with you at all time. And to save the last bullet in your gun for me. A head shot.”

“
I can't.”

“
Dylan, I know the location of headquarters now. Hundreds of people could die if I'm captured. Not to mention setting our cause back. This is not a request. I am ordering you. You agreed to fall under my command. That's why I just confirmed your agreement a minute ago. So, this is how it goes. Otherwise, we split up right now and you're on you own. We never see each other again. It's your choice, what's it gonna be?”