Pat Ruger Box Set 2, page 15
part #4 of Pat Ruger Series
“What is it that we’re supposed to do?”
“Soon. First, I want you to tell me something. You aren’t on the force any more. Why are you still involved in this case? Why didn’t you go back to your office and get back to minding your business?”
“It’s a curse, I can tell you that. After all those years on the beat and then as a detective, I got used to helping people. I can’t help it. Then losing my wife, and my fiance, and my best friend … I just don’t see a reason to let it all go. My life isn’t worth it anymore.”
“Just my luck.”
“Let me ask you something.” She nodded. “Why? Why are you trying to kill all those people?”
“Ever hear of the movement to eradicate humans from earth?”
“The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement? I saw that on the news recently.”
“Well, maybe an offshoot from that. Voluntary extinction will take too long. Mankind has made a mess of things on earth and we have to stop it soon. Otherwise, humans’ bad habits are going to permanently harm the earth’s ecology and eradicate millions of plant and animal species. The Voluntary Movement has good intentions, but there are many of us who think that even 10 years might be too late.”
“So, your plan is to wipe out the human population within 10 years?”
“If only we could. But, I’m definitely going to do my part.”
“That’s why you didn’t mind killing all of your followers. They’re only humans that need to be eradicated.”
“Well … as callous as that sounds … yes.”
“You’re insane. Nothing you could do would wipe out the entire human race. Not even nuclear war.”
“That might be so, but if we slow down the industrial complex … well, we can leave it to others to finish our goal.” She stood up and flicked the gun barrel to indicate I should also stand. “It’s time to go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Never mind. Just stay a few feet ahead of me and don’t try anything. My gun has a hair trigger.”
“Got it.” Again she motioned for me to move and I headed for the door. I thought about making a move but with a hair trigger involved, I thought better of it. This woman was crazy enough to shoot me without thinking about it.
She followed me out and said, “We’ll take your car. It looks like it could outrun a cop or two.”
I walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door. Susan opened the passenger door and pointed her gun at me underneath the roof as I climbed in. I strapped my seatbelt on extra-tight, just in case something presented itself. We both closed our doors and I started up my Camaro.
“Which way?”
She pointed up the street to the west. “That direction. When you get to the main road, turn right. It’ll be about four miles before we turn off.”
In a few minutes, we were on County Road 56 heading west. Susan instructed me to slow down, then turn at a gravel road without any sign or marker. I drove up the road a couple of miles toward a hillside. It dead-ended at a turn-around and she had me stop half-way around.
“What now?” I asked.
“Get out.”
Like we got in, she kept her gun aimed at me the entire way out of my car.
“Over there,” she said as she pointed at a path to the left along the shallow limestone cliff. “In about 50 yards, there’s an opening. Don’t try anything.”
I didn’t answer but began walking down the path. Sure enough, there was a dilapidated wooden door with an old iron padlock hanging from a slider above the doorknob.
She threw me a key, which I caught with both hands at my belt. I opened the lock, then the door, and looked at her to see what she wanted me to do.
“Inside … slowly.”
I proceeded into the dark room and she flipped on a light when she followed me in. It was the inside of a mine or cave, with rock and dirt walls, about 20 yards across and a narrow corridor heading who-knew-where in the back of the space. Against one wall on the right was an ancient but sturdy-looking workbench, complete with various brown paint stains and black, charred burn marks. On the bench was a cylindrical metal canister and a small, blue, hard-sided suitcase.
I tried to lighten my mood by saying, “If you want to get rid of the human race, any reason why you wouldn’t start with yourself?”
“Funny.”
“Well, it only makes sense. Who else is going to do it?”
“Open the suitcase.”
I complied. There was a device inside that looked suspiciously like a bomb, including wires, a wrapped brick of what I assumed was plastic explosive, a cell phone and a square clear plastic cube were duct-taped to the top of everything. It wasn’t pretty but bombs wouldn’t often pass a safety inspection.
“Open the plastic box.”
I did so.
“See that metal container? Open it and pour the contents into the plastic box.”
Now I was worried. I looked at Susan and the gun was still pointing right at my chest. I contemplated rushing her.
“Don’t try it,” she replied to my thoughts. “I can do this without you, if I have to, but I’d rather not.”
I inhaled and exhaled deeply and turned back to the table. I opened the metal cylinder and screwed open the top. There was dark brown dust inside, which I poured into the plastic container in the suitcase. I closed both containers and turned back to Susan.
“Close it … the suitcase … and bring it to the car.”
She held the gun at me and stayed just far enough away from me to prevent me from making a move at her. I turned back and carefully closed and latched the suitcase cover. After another deep breath I grabbed the handle and slowly pulled it off the bench, swinging it gently and not letting it touch my body or the wall.
“You’re doing good. Take it to the car.”
She followed me out and even opened the back seat for me. I wondered what would happen if I dropped this case. Would it go off? I placed the suitcase on the backseat and leaned it over gently to one side.
I closed the car door and asked, “What are we going to do with a bomb?”
“You’ll see. Get in.”
We both stepped into the front seats and closed our doors. Again I tightened my belt. I looked back and noticed she hadn’t closed the wooden door on the mine. I figured she wasn’t worried any longer about who found it.
I started the car and finished the rest of the turn-around, heading out the gravel road the way we came.
“Right at the highway,” Susan instructed.
“Are we heading to the city?”
“Of course.”
About 10 miles north, I looked down and saw that the dosimeter badges had turned nearly all black. I realized then what had been in the metal canister. We were delivering a dirty bomb to Denver. I slowly reached for my pills.
“What are you doing?”
“Allergy pills,” I replied. “If I don’t take them soon, I won’t be able to stop sneezing. You want to drive?”
“No, take them. But don’t do anything stupid.”
“I don’t plan to.” I brought them out of my pocket and showed them to her, then took them dry. They were a little larger than I would have liked, but managed to get them down.
After another five miles I noticed a car that had been following us was still about a half-mile back. It was a white sedan of some kind, rather indistinctive from this far away. I sped up and it stayed the same distance from us, slowed down and that car slowed. We had a tail. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. If it was a fed, they might force me to do something I didn’t want to do. But, if I needed help, there they were.
“What about John?”
“What?” she replied.
“What about your husband? What does he have to do with all of this?”
“Not a thing, I assure you. He was the perfect choice to bring to the mountains and hide behind. His badge … and his salary … were absolutely fundamental in getting everything ramped up.”
“He had to have known.”
“No, I know he didn’t. If he did, would he have called you, to get you to meet me?”
“Well, he could have, I guess.”
“Well, he didn’t. I really do love him, you know, and he’ll be able to take care of the kids. But he was necessary to get my group started. The group, Wesley, Bartholomew, the money, the drugs, everything depended on John and his unwitting protection here in the middle of nowhere.”
I didn’t answer and let it sink in. We approached a highway marker, State Route 72, and Susan instructed me to take it west. We entered a curvy stretch of mountain road and soon hit the downhill stretch toward the metro area. Around this corner and that you could see the city stretching out into the distant plains. I thought for a few minutes that we had lost the tail and I realized I had been counting on the help. I knew I was going to have to do something before we reached any real population. We hit a straightaway and I was relieved to see the white car in my rear view mirror.
The city grew closer and closer and I was getting desperate. In the distance I saw a reservoir off the left of the highway and had an idea. “We have a tail,” I announced. “I’m going to lose them.”
“That white car that’s been behind us for a while? I noticed them before we hit the mountains ... ”
I stepped on the gas and we lurched. I must have startled Susan because she didn’t make a sound for a moment. My Camaro would put you back in the seat when I punched it. My speed increased and I watched my speedometer hit 110.
“Slow down,” Susan was finally able to say. “I’m going to shoot you right now if you don’t slow down.”
“I told you I’m going to lose whoever that is.”
My speedometer was still climbing when we quickly came upon the reservoir, which was just a grassy patch away from the road. Perfect, I thought.
I swerved to the left, bounced a couple times on the grassy berm and violently jumped the low cement barrier next to the dam, slamming into the water. We hit hard and I was knocked out for a moment. When I could think I unbuckled and tried to lower my window, but the electric switch failed. We were still floating but the car was beginning to list in the front. I felt a twinge of panic and pounded on the window. A sharp pain in my left arm made me yelp and I figured it was broken.
Susan wasn’t moving. I remembered the glass breaking tool I was given as a gift and threw in the door pocket. I reached for it and pressed the point on the glass. It immediately shattered. I managed to crawl out as the Camaro sank below the surface.
My arm was in terrible pain and I had a difficult time swimming toward shore. I struggled to get a breath before dropping below the lake’s surface. Just when I thought I was going down, someone lifted me back up and I took some gulps of air, sputtering and coughing.
“You okay?” It was the sheriff of Gilpin County with a big smile on his face. “Nice dive!” McCoy said. “I’d give it an 8-point-7.”
“Everyone thinks they’re a comedian.” I said, and I decided I had misjudged the man.
He pulled me to the dirt bank about 30 yards to the right of where we entered the water. When it got shallow enough to walk, I tried to stand up but still struggled. McCoy helped me the rest of the way.
“Susan Fielding … ” I tried to say as I fell on the grassy beach, but finished by pointing toward the car.
“Susan’s with you?”
I nodded, and the soaking wet sheriff stood back up and started back to the lake. A very large explosion blew him back and I knew that Susan was gone. She had detonated the bomb.
The sharp pain in my arm returned with a vengeance and I passed out thinking about my beloved Camaro.
Chapter 24
My left arm was throbbing when I woke up in the hospital bed. I looked at it and saw that it was wrapped in a large white bandage.
“You’re awake,” said a female voice and I saw that the whole P-A-L staff was in the room. “The doctor said it wouldn’t be long.”
“What happened?” I groggily asked. “I remember the explosion.”
“Do you remember Sheriff McCoy getting you out of the water?” It was Jimmy. “He may have saved your life.”
“Vaguely. I think my car’s gone ... my Camaro … ”
“Sorry, Patty,” Lola said and she came over to hug me.
“Careful,” I warned as I pulled away a bit. She was careful but gave me a big hug. She didn’t seem to want to let go.
“You dodged a bullet, Pat.” Jimmy continued. “Those pills … good thinking taking those when you did. The doctor found the ingredients in your system and said it saved you from radiation sickness, at least so far.”
“How long have I been out?”
“A few hours. They said your vitals showed you would probably recover fast and wake up.”
That’s when I noticed a mess of wiring, straps and tape on several parts of my body and the bed. As if she were reading my mind, a nurse came in and cheerfully removed most of the hookups and paraphernalia. When she left I sized up the team.
“Jimmy, Lola, Anna, Jake, Tory … and, who’s this?” A tall Hispanic boy of about 15 was standing somewhat behind Lola.
“Pat, this is my cousin, Paulo.”
“Paul,” the kid corrected.
“Paul. He’s in high school, ang gonna to do some interning with us. He’d like to get his P.I. license.”
“Oh, man, are you sure?” I laughed and winced in pain. “You could end up like this.”
Everyone laughed and I was grateful to have friends like these, not just partners and co-workers, and I said so.
“That’s the meds talking, Patty-boy.” Jimmy gave out a belly laugh and the others followed.
“No,” I said to try to explain myself. The laughter died down. “No, I mean it. You guys are the reason I’m still alive. Without friends like you guys to care about, I would have bought the farm back in the Fielding house. No way I would have driven her anywhere.”
“Well,” Lola said with her eyes tearing up. “We’re glad you made it. We want you back in the office.”
Anna perked up and said, “It’s not the same without you.”
“Besides,” added Tory. “I don’t like being in your house alone. It creeps me out.”
“It’s your house, too, y’know.”
“I know, but … well … you know. I really like arguing with you at night.” He smiled broadly.
“Okay, everyone,” the nurse said as she re-entered the room. “Time to let Mr. Ruger rest.”
“Okay, Mr. Ruger,” Jimmy mocked. “You rest up and we’ll see you later.”
“Everyone’s a comedian,” I said and it sounded really familiar.
They left one at a time, the girls kissing me on the cheek, and each promising to call the next day. The last one to leave was Jimmy.
“Erin is really upset with you. I don’t know how to calm her down.”
“Your wife … let her know I’ll be okay and it will never happen again.”
“I’ll do that, but expect a stern lecture from her tomorrow.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Really, dude, glad you’re okay.”
I nodded and, thankfully, he left without a hug. I was very tired and fell back to sleep almost immediately. Each hour through the night a nurse woke me to check my vitals and every third time got urine samples.
In the morning I was in fairly good spirits, considering. A very young, pretty nurse came in to announce a visitor. She was blond, shapely and stunning. I almost missed what she was saying, but she left and returned in a moment with Thompkins.
“Hey, there. Pat. How’re you feeling?” The prosecutor was wearing another expensive three-piece suit, this time in flat charcoal.
“As well as can be expected. What’s going on?”
“Well, Homeland’s buzzing about what you did. They’ve begun cleaning up the reservoir you drove into and the bomb was substantial. Getting it into the water kept it contained — that was brilliant. They found some radioactivity readings in the water. It appears it was a dirty bomb.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so. I didn’t want it to get to the city, so I ditched the car.”
“Sheriff McCoy said he followed you from the Fielding house and that Mrs. Fielding was in the car with you when you drove into the reservoir. Can you tell me why she was with you?”
“She was the mastermind behind the Children. I’m assuming she went up with the bomb.”
“Looks like it. There are bits of skin and flesh on some of the car pieces they recovered and they sent the samples to the lab. Even though they were soaked in the lake, we think they can get the ID.” He paused to take it in. “Mrs. Fielding was behind it all? Did she say why?”
“Just that she was part of a radical movement to wipe out mankind for the Earth’s sake. We are ruining the planet and she thought something had to be done. She talked about the, what was it? The ‘voluntary extinction’ movement, I think. It’s the clan who wants everyone to stop having kids so that humans can become naturally extinct. Problem was, she didn’t want to wait 100 or 200 years for it to happen.”
“And what about John Fielding? He had to know what was going on in his own house.”
“No, I really don’t think so. He was clearly in the dark when I was with him, even in the mine, pardon the pun.”
I winced and Thompkins said as soon as I was ready he’d pick me up and I would be debriefed. He left and I went about trying to recover.
Because of the concussion I evidently suffered, the hospital kept me for three more days before clearing me to be discharged. I called Jimmy on the room’s phone to pick me up at noon. It had been a quiet and restful few days without a phone and without a parade of well-wishers. In order to facilitate my recuperation, I had asked everyone to give me some time and had promised to let them visit me once I got home.
A few minutes before 12, I got dressed in clothes that Tory had dropped off — a pair of black jeans, a gray Broncos T-shirt, black crew socks, my old, comfy tennis shoes and even a change of underwear. I called out for the pretty nurse, Taylor, to roll me out and she stopped in with a wheel chair.
