They'll Call It Treason (16 page)

Behind them a door creaked open and Gray came stumbling out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I heard you all out here talking. What’s—” Gray began, then saw the stunned look on their faces and finished flatly, “up?”

Ethan summed up the revelations. “Agent Abrams is playing both sides, as we already know. But it seems he has been doing it a while. He was in the crime-scene video feed of the representative that was murdered a year ago down in Raleigh.”

Gray faintly remembered the case. He knew it was one that Ethan and Jason had been working on with little success, but otherwise he was not entirely familiar with the details.

“And the suspect in North Carolina,” Ethan paused. “He’s the same man that killed the Congressman in Georgia yesterday. At least I’m nearly positive.”

“A team?” Gray asked, his brow wrinkling.

“It looks that way,” Ethan replied, “but not for the Bureau.”

Dante lowered his head in amazement. “This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

Ethan shook his head in reply and then turned his attention to Austin, who was sitting next to him wide-eyed. “Is there any way you can find out some information for me on Abrams?”

“Uh… Possibly. What do you need?” Austin stammered, still trying to take it in.

“I need to know why Abrams was in Raleigh last year when the North Carolina rep was murdered. I need to know any orders he had from the Bureau in the weeks before and after—where he went, who he talked to. Anything you can find.” Ethan paused a moment, thinking.

He had to pull the pieces together, just as he would in any other investigation—with one critical difference: this time, it was his own life and those of his friends that were at stake.  Their time was running out.

“If you can get that for me, and the same information for this past week, I think that may help.”

“I’ll try,” Austin said. His hesitant tone conveyed little confidence. Ethan vacated the chair and Austin sat down and did his work regardless.

With eyes downcast, Ethan walked back into the living room. His mind was working at hyper speed, but his thoughts were disjointed.
Could this be the break we needed?
He wondered how many of his cases the two had been involved in.
If only I had gotten this far in solving the case before Jason was killed, and Kate—

Suddenly his attention was diverted by an unusual cracking noise.

“You okay, Ethan?” Dante asked as Ethan stared at the front door. There was a brief silence.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing.” Ethan shook his head and rubbed his eyes, dismissing the noise. Processing the new information had ramped him up, made him jumpy.

“We need to start talking plans, guys,” Gray started. “We’ve got a lot to figure—”

Ethan raised his hand, signaling Gray to hush. He tilted his head, listening. Confused, Gray raised his hands and silently mouthed a question, “What is it?”

Crack.

Gray heard the cracking of wood coming from outside just as Ethan pointed toward the front door. Ethan met Gray’s gaze and nodded. Somehow they understood each other.

“Austin, pack your gear,” Gray whispered, nodding to the laptop on the table. “We need to get out of here, fast.”

All four of them scurried as quietly as possible around the cabin to gather their supplies. They each returned to the small living room with packs strapped to their backs and a pistol in hand, except Dante, who had a pistol at his waist and a 12 gauge tactical shotgun held high and tight to his shoulder.

Ethan stepped up to the window next to the front door, leaning flat against the wall. Slowly he slipped a finger between the window and blinds and peeked out. There were two men in black suits on the porch standing to either side of the door, posturing to enter with guns drawn.

“The tunnel,” Ethan mouthed silently to the others, while pointing with two fingers toward the kitchen. They had to get out, or fight.

Creak.

Ethan’s attention shot to the door. The knob was turning.

January 30 at 7:50
a.m.
EST

Blowing Rock, NC

Bang!

The door ruptured inward, a burst of wood splinters showered the floor.

“Freeze, FB..” an agent yelled into the room Ethan’s twisted and rammed his elbow in to the man's nose. The agent jerked back. His tall figure slammed to the ground and his gun collapsed onto the wood planks of the porch.

The second agent, eyes covered by a pair of dark glasses matching his complexion, raised his service weapon and took aim at Ethan. As he pulled the trigger Gray shoved his entire weight into the agent, knocking him back out onto the porch.

A loud
bang
echoed by Ethan’s head as wood splintered past his neck. His ear burnt with a high pitch ringing, but he ignored it, shaking off the shock.

Getting to his knees, Gray swung out at the man, snapping his head to the side, knocking him out. Gray took a quick glance up. To his left, the first agent was getting his composure back, his nose bloodied. Out past the porch railing Gray counted three more men in black suites before jumping to his feet and connecting his foot with the side of the agents jaw. The man reeled back, body slack against the porch, unconscious.

“We’ve got to go
now
!” Grey urged. Holding himself back, he aimed at the ground around the group’s feet.
They're just doing their job.

“I’ll keep them back,” Gray said. He took a breath before leaning partially around the doorframe.

“Let’s go,” Ethan said to Dante. Without a second thought Ethan and Dante sprinted to the kitchen. Gray laid down a few warning shots at the incoming team, sending them ducking and rolling out of the way.

“Alright Gray, come on!” Ethan yelled from the kitchen.

Taking one last shot just below the center agent, his slide locked back. “I’m out,” he shouted as he twisted around and joined the others.

“Here!” Dante bellowed back, tossing an extra magazine a few feet in the air to Gray.

Gray caught the loaded magazine, released his spent magazine and sent the new one home before releasing the slide in one fluid motion. He kept his back to Ethan with his pistol aimed toward the entrance, ready.

“We need to get moving, I don’t think I bought us much time,” Gray explained.

With a
crack
the exterior door into the kitchen swung open and crashed against the cabinets, barely missing Dante. Everyone turned. An agent burst through, gun drawn, yet not ready for his target to be so close. Dante reached out and grabbed the agent’s wrist. He twisted, sending the pistol to the ground, and jerked the man closer to bury a knee into his chest. The agent fell to the ground, bent over in pain.

A second agent spun around the doorframe and took a shot at Dante. The bullet zinged by his neck and crashed into the cabinet behind him. Before Dante could take aim a shot rang out from behind him. The agent’s knee exploded into a red mist. He fell limp to the ground. Without taking a look back, Dante kicked the man’s pistol from his hand and shoved him out the door. Both men tumbled backward out onto the snow laced ground.

“Get out of my house!” Dante yelled, then turned around to find Austin with his pistol drawn, the barrel smoking. “Thanks man.”

Austin nodded before returning his attention to Ethan. Dante scooped the two pistols strewn across the kitchen floor, stowing one away behind his back and handing the second off to Gray. Ethan waved a hand for them to follow him as he opened the pantry door and rushed in. Gray followed Dante and Austin inside.

Beyond Ethan stood a second door, faintly hidden behind racks of canned goods. Ethan turned the knob and shoved the door open, exposing a small set of stairs down into the pitch black. According to the real estate agent, the tunnel was built by the former owner who used it to access the barn during storms. Ethan assumed this qualified as a storm as he rushed in.

Last in, Gray shut the door behind them, wishing there was a way to hide their escape. Unfortunately the tunnel had not been intended as an escape route. Ahead a light appeared. Gray squinted. It was Ethan standing in front with a flash light.

“Here,” Ethan said, throwing a flashlight back to Gray. “Let's go.”

January 30 at 8:00
a.m.
EST

Washington, D.C – FBI Headquarters

“We’re taking fire.” The voice was muffled as it projected from the overhead speaker, a two-way radio link between the team of agents and the command room.

Richard stood near the back of the faintly lit room. He was listening intently to the audio feed. As the situation changed Richard barked out orders. It was eight o’clock in the morning and Richard had been at headquarters for the past two hours, along with a skeleton crew of analysts and Agent Day.

Overnight drone monitoring in the North Carolina mountains had turned up a small cabin with three vehicles parked out front.  Two of them matched those driven by their suspects: the Nissan sedan Ethan Shaw had stolen the day before and a late model Camaro registered to Dante Mercer.

Richard had blanched when he was debriefed on the deed to the cabin. It was in the name of a Matthew Killian—an old alias of Ethan Shaw. He was infuriated that they had not already dug up the alias. He made a note to have a stern conversation with Agent Day after this all winded down.  His team could have met the suspects at the cabin doors had it not been overlooked.

He would have to dedicate more time to the investigation and not assume his right-hand man covered all the bases.

At a quarter past seven a group of eight agents had arrived on site. Silently they had infiltrated the property among the trees unseen. Exactly eighteen minutes later an agent had confirmed visual of the primary suspect, Ethan Shaw, as he was reentering the cabin.

Richard was baffled. One agent had taken a bullet to the knee and was out of commission. Two were unconscious. He lowered his head, closed his eyes and let out a deep, frustrated breath.

He raised his black coffee mug and took a sip of hot double espresso. It was a rocky start for such an early morning.

“They’re not here,” an agent relayed over the audio feed. “It’s like they disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Richard asked into a nearby microphone connecting him to the team in Blowing Rock. “They were just there dammit. We had visual.”

“Yes, sir, we did. But they’re not here now.” the agent explained, the feed crackled. “We’ll keep looking, they couldn’t have gone far.”

Irritated, Richard raised his voice, “Tear that place apart if you have to. They can’t have just disappeared!”

“Yes, sir,”

Richard scanned the live satellite feed on the large main screen. He swept his eyes across the grounds, from the tree-lined driveway up to the cabin. Faintly, Richard made out several tiny specks around the cabin where his agents stood watch.

He scanned west of the cabin. More open land and a natural border of thick trees. Then south. Roughly fifty yards away from the cabin sat another building, much smaller—a tool shed or detached garage, perhaps.

“Have they checked that second building yet?” Richard demanded, pointing at the image on the screen.

“Visual inspection showed it to be empty before the mission commenced, sir.” It was a young analyst to Richard’s right. Richard looked to see who had spoken. He was a young man, dark brown skin and honey eyes.

Richard pursed his lips. Leaning back into the microphone, Richard barked a command, “Check the shed again, pronto.”

“Yes, sir. Moving out now.”

On the main screen Richard watched as a figure strafed out of the cabin and cautiously hustled over to the second building.

“Sir,” a voice came over the radio, more urgent than before. “We’ve found a door inside the kitchen pantry; it was concealed by some shelving.”

Intrigued, Richard leaned forward.

“It leads to a tunnel. Heading seems to be west-southwest as long as it stays straight,” The agent explained.

Richard smirked.
Of course they hadn’t just disappeared.
He looked back up at the map. His eyes shot to the second building, drawing an imaginary line between it and the cabin. West-southwest. They
had
escaped to the other building.

“Get everyone to that building, now!” Richard barked, pointing to the structure on the map. “That’s where they are.”

January 30 at 8:05
a.m.
EST

Blowing Rock, NC

“It’s just ahead,” Ethan called back as they dashed through the flashlight-illuminated tunnel. His chest pounded. The lights jumped erratically from floor to ceiling with each step, revealing damp dirt walls and half-rotted wooden beams that barely kept the earthen ceiling from caving in on them.

So far they had not been followed. Ethan knew that would change soon. It would not take much to realize where they were headed. Gray was fearful that the agents may already be there waiting for them.

Ethan suddenly stopped. The others jerked to a halt just in time to avoid running into a wall of dirt, the end of the tunnel. There was a ladder leading up to a hatch about eight feet above them. Ethan raised his pistol toward the hatch. He was not taking chances.

Ethan deftly climbed the ladder to the top. At the top, he cracked the door open a few inches and peeked into the shed. Nothing— no movement, no noises.  He heaved the door open. Taking cover behind the trapdoor, he fanned his pistol from side-to-side. It looked clear. Ethan climbed the remaining rungs and lifted himself onto the shed floor, beckoning the others to come up.

As his friends climbed the ladder, Ethan double checked the immediate area. Everything was as he had left it. The upper loft was crammed with old furniture and random goods left behind by the previous owner— everything from an old broken record player to an ancient wood stove. Rusty farm equipment lined the back wall. Ethan was clueless about their operation. He had never taken the time to learn more about them or auction them off.

“Is the Jeep still here?” Gray asked before he crawled onto the dirt floor and got to his feet. Immediately he had his answer. An old nineties model Jeep Cherokee sat directly ahead, its crimson body draped in shadows. “Oh, I guess so.”

It had been Ethan’s jewel as an early twenty-something military man. It was crimson red with hulking off-road tires, complete with a black grill guard, a six inch lift and a few modifications under the hood.

“There she is,” Dante admired fleetingly as he got to his feet, giving a quick helping hand to Austin.

Ethan swiped the keys off a hook by the adjacent tool bench and jumped in the Jeep.

“You sure this thing still runs?” Gray asked.

In answer Ethan turned the key. The engine turned with a slight hesitation and then revved to the life. Gray raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Get in guys, I’ll check to see if we have a clear path,” Dante barked. Without objection Gray pulled himself up into the front passenger seat just before Austin opened the back door, taking a seat behind him.

Dante jogged over to the barn’s lone window next to the tool bench and peered out toward the cabin.

“Ah, dammit!” Dante exclaimed.

Ethan whipped around. “What’s wrong?”

Dante curled his lips and pointed out the window, “My baby. I just had new exhaust put on her last week.”

Ethan shook his head slightly, dismissing the remark, they had more pressing concerns than Dante’s Carmaro.

“I think we can make it out,” Dante said, focusing on the task at hand. There were three agents standing guard out in front of the cabin. With three outside Dante assumed there were at least three to four more inside the cabin. He hoped he was right.

Suddenly an agent bolted out of the cabin and down the stairs before turning toward the shed. For his short stature and thick frame the agent was making good time. Immediately the agents which had been standing guard outside followed suite.

“Okay, looks like it’s time to move,” Dante urged. “I’ll get the door.”

Dante rushed over to the large doors and thrust with all the strength in his arms. They slung outward, opening up to the growing snow fall and the group of agents intent of stopping them.

“Come out with your hands up,” the lead agent yelled, his voice deep and commanding.

Well, at least they don’t give up easily
, Dante thought.

“Go, go, go, go!” Dante called as he sprinted toward the Jeep and jumped into the back seat.

Ethan slammed the throttle, and the Jeep lurched forward. Austin was thrown back against the barely padded seat as he struggled to put his seat belt on. Gray already had his window down with his pistol ready.

“Dante, you still want your Camaro?” Ethan asked, realizing the advantage of two vehicles— two separate targets.

“Hell yeah!” Dante bellowed.

Ethan jerked the wheel to the right. The back tires spun, sending dirt high into the air as the back-end slid, and headed straight for the Camaro and the agents. A bullet glanced off the passenger door with a spark. A second shot shattered the front windshield. The bitter cold wind rushed in. Ethan threw his hand up to shield his face from the shard of glass falling in around him.

Taking aim through the glassless opening, Gray let off two shots. The lead agent veered to the right and dropped to his knees to take aim before returning fire. They all ducked as another round entered the Jeep and shattered through the back side window.

“Get ready Dante, we’re only going to get one chance at this,” Ethan commanded.

Gray let a few more rounds off, barely missing the closest agent, scaring him enough to send him jumping out of the way. Only ten more yards.

“We’ll drop you off, and then cover you, Dante,” Gray assured him, “but we can’t just stop, so get ready to jump.”

Dante cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, the thrill of getting to keep his baby diminished by the thought of jumping from a moving vehicle. He was a daredevil, but he was not stupid. He held his pistol tight to his side and gripped the door latch, ready for action.

“Ready,” Dante affirmed, a hitch in his voice betraying his doubt.

As soon as they passed the agents, Ethan slowed the Jeep, hoping to ease Dante’s impact.

“Alright, here we go, Dante,” Gray prepared him. “Three…” They were closing in. “Two…” A scattering of gun shots rained around them; one skimmed the back of the Jeep with a loud ping. Gray returned fire.  The Camaro was mere feet away now.

“Be careful Dante,” Austin said, as Dante clenched the door handle.

“One... Go!”

Dante yanked the door latch and jumped. He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him.

They had timed it just right. Dante jumped to his feet and limped the remaining yards to the car as Gray and Austin laid down cover fire.

"He's in, we're good to go," Gray confirmed with a smile as the Camaro tore into the gravel. Rocks spewed high and a thick cloud of dirt formed behind the muscle car.

Ethan veered toward the tree-lined driveway and stomped on the gas pedal, bullets still flying by. At the end of the path Ethan noted two black SUVs sitting at the end of the driveway.

We should have paid more attention. I should have known we didn’t have long at the cabin.

Ethan tore out of the private drive and on to the main road, greeted by the blaring horn of a large king-cab Ford truck. He swerved to avoid a collision and shoved the pedal to the floor again.

“Whoa!” Austin exclaimed.

“I got it, I got it,” Ethan assured them. Taking a look in his rear-view mirror, he eyed the white and black Camaro tight on his tail.

"Well guys, it looks like they found us," said a tinny voice over the ear piece Austin had given them all the night before. It was Dante.

Gray looked at Ethan and smirked, “Never would have guessed, Dante.”

“Just doing my part,” Dante responded with a laugh and a groan. “Oh, that hurt.”

“You okay Dante?” Ethan asked.

“I’m good. Jumping out of a moving car though? Not a good idea, for future reference.”

“You’ll be alright,” Ethan assured him over the radio. “Let’s not get too comfortable now. This isn't over yet. They'll be on us in no time."

“Speak of the devil. Look who just showed up,” Austin piped in, breaking his silence.

Ethan checked his side mirror.  Sure enough, the two black SUVs were gaining on them. A figure emerged from the passenger side window of the closest SUV nearly sitting on the car’s window frame, gun drawn.

"I'm about to take fire," Dante yelled over the earpiece. Bang, Bang. A barrage of shots flew around the Camaro. Most ricocheted off the pavement, but a few burrowed into the Camaro's back end, sparks flying on contact.

"Whoa!" Dante bellowed, ducking instinctively, his voice full of indignation. "It's
on,
now!"

Dante slammed his foot into the brake pedal. The car bucked and skidded, rubber screeching against pavement. Caught by surprise, the SUV banged into the Camaro with a jolt.

Ethan watched as the agent lost his grip on his pistol, dropping it to the pavement. 
Not bad, Dante.

“Can you give him some cover?” Ethan asked Gray.

“Most definitely,” Gray nodded grimly, turning around in his seat and leaning out the window. A few seconds later, Ethan heard shots whiz by and watched as the SUV veered from side to side before the agent reappeared with another weapon.

Gray slid back into his seat and dropped his empty pistol to the floor to retrieve the pistol Dante had commandeered from the agent back at the cabin. He turned back in his seat and careful placed his shots, attempting to throw their pursuers off course.

Leaning forward, crouched low, Austin yelled over the roaring wind, “We can’t just keep running like this, guys. Ethan, we’ve got to lose them.”

“I know,” Ethan shouted back.

But how?

Ethan ran scenario after scenario through his head. Reluctantly, he came to a conclusion, wishing he could think of anything better.

We have to split up.

"Dante," Ethan started, his mind racing, heart pounding.

“Yeah, boss.”

“We’ve got to split up.” Ethan paused, waiting for a reaction, for an alternative solution from someone. A moment of radio silence passed.  There was no sound but that of the road roaring by underneath and bursts of gunfire.

Only the day before, Ethan had fretted about whether he could reunite with his friends. Now the only option he could come up with was to send Dante off on his own.

“Okay,” Dante finally replied. Ethan could not tell if he was worried or still computing the idea.

Ethan hated the plan, yet he continued, "The next chance you get I want you to split off, and if one of them follows you, lose them. Hopefully the other will follow us and then we can deal with them."

“Sounds like a plan,” Dante replied, his voice solid again. "”Do you happen to have a rendezvous point in mind?”

With everything moving so fast, Ethan had not thought that far ahead. He looked to Austin for some hint or assurance. Austin’s expression was uncertain.

“Do we have a map or GPS?” Austin asked, not sure what Ethan expected of him.

Sparks flew off the Jeep as a lucky bullet ricocheted off the side, then another buried deep into the taillight. Austin ducked instinctively.

“Ah! Yes. In the glove compartment, there is a tour map of the mountains.”

“Tour map?” Austin repeated, confused. Ethan only nodded back. Austin gave up with the ghost of a smile while Gray still hung out the window firing back at their pursuers.

“Give us just a second Dante, we’ll find a location,” Ethan assured him as he watched the SUV ram Dante from behind.

We’ve got to hurry!

Ethan stretched to reach the glove compartment. The Jeep swerved and Ethan jumped back in place.

“Alright, try not to kill me out here!” Gray yelled into the window while he continued to pepper the SUVs with bullets, unaware of what was happening the Jeep.

“How about I get that,” Austin recommend. He leaned over the center console from the back seat and yanked open the compartment and grabbed the map. Immediately he went to work pinpointing their location as best he could, wishing he had time to reassemble his cell phone and use its GPS instead. They were on the Parkway, but Austin was not exactly familiar with the area. The whistling of bullets and cold rushing air in the cabin did not help. He traced a finger up the Parkway.

“Uh, I think this will do,” Austin said, his finger coming to a rest on the map. “Dante, meet us at the intersection of four twenty-one and Brown’s Chapel Road.”

“Got it,” Dante confirmed.

Ahead, Ethan spotted an intersection. “Dante, here’s your chance. Get ready!”

They closed in on the intersection. Gray twisted around in his seat, leaning his head out the window, and let off three consecutive rounds, barely missing the SUV’s windshield. As he retracted himself back into the vehicle, Gray watched the Camaro fish-tail, tires screeching on the pavement, and jerk forward down the intersection.

The first SUV was caught off guard and kept on course behind the Jeep. The second tore off after Dante as Ethan had hoped.

Ethan glanced in the rear-view mirror where the Camaro had been just moments before. He sent up a silent prayer.