One Rule - No Surrender, page 19
part #2 of One Rule Series
"Damn," said Maggie. "What's that ape doing here?"
On the laptop screen, the big dude burst into the house without knocking. He grabbed Dr. MacDougal and swung him against a wall as the Gordon couple cowered in one corner of the kitchen.
"What's going on?" Sam Gordon cried.
"Just checking the doctor's credentials."
The man ran his hands over MacDougal's jacket, tearing out first a mini-camera and then a tiny, button-shaped recorder/transmitter.
"Oh, crap," Maggie muttered.
"I'll be back." Thalma was popping open her door and restraining Maggie with one hand as she started out of her seat. "Wait for me here."
"What are you – "
But Thalma was already out the door and jogging toward the Gordons' driveway. Maggie fought down her impulse to leap out of the car after her and focused on the laptop screen instead. Fortunately, Dr. MacDougal turned to the front door as Thalma burst through, and his second camera caught her as she blasted past him. He turned with her, allowing Maggie to glimpse the big guy's disbelieving smirk removed with a straight jab to his chin that snapped back his head as if she'd teed off on it with a sledgehammer. The image jittered as MacDougal stumbled back. The walls spun in a blur and the front door was rushing toward the camera.
Maggie glanced up in time to see the doctor stumble out the door with Thalma grasping his collar. She steered him over to their car and shoved him into the backseat.
"Our little operation just imploded," Thalma rasped, dropping into the driver's seat.
"So I noticed," said Maggie.
Thalma started the car and drove at a brisk speed out of the neighborhood.
"What about my rental?" the doctor cried.
"The least of your concerns," Thalma snapped.
"We have the recordings of the first two meetings," said Maggie. "Plus the doctor's testimony. I think that's enough to call it a success."
"I'm not testifying to anything." Dr. MacDougal sat in the back seat hugging himself, his frown wavering between fierce determination and being scared shitless. "You promised to protect me. I need to go into witness protection or the equivalent."
"Do you have a family?" Maggie asked.
"Two daughters. But we're not on speaking terms."
"What a surprise," Thalma murmured.
"I did everything for them," MacDougal growled. "Paid for college, helped buy their first homes, but they sided with their mom during the divorce, so good riddance."
Maggie rolled her eyes at Thalma.
"So you are going to protect me, right?
"We'll talk to the boss-man about that," said Maggie. "But I think you'll be okay. He was just saying the other day that they had a room opening up in public housing downtown L.A. with a paying gig as a dishwasher at a local Denny's. Sounds pretty sweet."
"That's not funny. If you want my cooperation, you'll need to match my current level of employment and income."
"Shouldn't you be thanking Thalma for saving your ass back there? You do realize that big dude would be dragging you to the nearest WSGI safe house right now, where you'd be tortured until you told them everything before they dropped your mutilated body somewhere to serve as a warning when it was discovered weeks or months later?"
The doctor opened his mouth to speak but only a choking sound emerged.
"We could always bring you back right now," said Maggie.
"I take your meaning," MacDougal croaked. "And I assure you, I am duly grateful."
Maggie snorted. "Try to contain yourself, Doctor."
Back in Thalma's hotel room, Maggie made the call to Murphy. Murphy told them to "keep him on ice" for twenty-four hours or so until they had made the identity-altering arrangements. The doctor would also need to make a complete statement about the false flag operation and his own involvement. Murphy suggested checking out of the hotel and lying low in a nearby safe house where that could be accomplished.
A soft knock sounded moments after the conversation with Murphy ended. Thalma moved to the door's peep hole.
"Oh, no," she whispered.
Behind her, Maggie drew her waist handgun, but Thalma made a sharp motion downward and opened the door to her newly discovered sister.
"Hi?"
Thalma glanced both directions down the hall and pulled her in – a bit rougher than she'd intended. Laura stopped just inside the room, rubbing her arm and staring at Maggie and Dr. MacDougal.
"Is this, um, a bad time?"
"You could say that." Thalma took a moment to calm down and consider the possibilities. She hated to make her new sister feel unwanted – she knew that feeling all too well – but they had to move now to stay ahead of World Security Group International.
"I'll go on ahead with Dr. Feelgood now," said Maggie. "No need for both of us to drive him. Take your time with your sister, and catch up when you can."
Thalma didn't like the feel of that, but she knew that was probably because of her prejudicial belief that she was the only one competent to do even the simplest things under combat conditions. Maggie's suggestion seemed the best of the immediate options.
"Okay," she said. "I won't be long."
"No problem." Maggie stuck out a hand to the girl. "Hi. I'm Maggie, an associate of your sister's."
"Nice to meet you." Laura glanced at the glowering Dr. MacDougal as they shook.
"A friend," said Maggie. She winked at Thalma. "We were just leaving."
She swept Dr. MacDougal past them through the door. Thalma and Laura stood facing each other – Laura with averted eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Here we hardly met and I'm already playing the pesky younger sister."
Thalma let out a short laugh. "I think I can handle that. But I am kind of in the middle of something right now. How did you find me?"
"You said you were staying on the wharf. This was the third hotel I tried. I just went up to the front desk and got all teary about looking for my 'mommy' and describing you. Who wants to listen to a twelve year old girl get all weepy?"
"Good point." Thalma smiled. "You took a bus here?"
"Yup."
"Are you okay getting home that way?" The girl frowned and Thalma shook her head. "Never mind. I can drive you home."
"If you're sure it wouldn't be too much trouble that would be great. The buses are kind of a pain."
Thalma felt a strange combination of happiness and dread at having the girl sitting next to her as she drove them back to Issaquah. Less dread about being near her during an active mission than the abrupt realization that it was Saturday and her mother would likely be home.
"Does your mom know where you are?" she asked.
"I just told her I was going to see some friends," Laura answered with a shrug. "You don't have to see her or anything. Just drop me off outside."
Thalma scowled at herself for the relief those words brought. What a coward. Not that she didn't have a good excuse now for not talking to her. Once this operation was over, she'd have to work a bit harder on excuses.
They were about halfway home, cruising on Highway 90, when Thalma spotted a grey Suburban gaining on them at a highway patrol "coming to ticket you" speed. But Washington Highway Patrol used a Chevy Tahoe, and the color and markings weren't right. Thalma kicked up the speed. At one hundred and thirty the SUV stopped gaining on them.
"What's happening?" asked Laura in a small voice. "Why are we going so fast?"
"I think we're being followed."
Thalma's flat voice revealed none of the distress that was burbling up in her. This was the worst-case scenario that she'd downplayed when she'd first decided to drive Laura home – that the WSGI would somehow learn her location before she dropped her sister off. She wasn't going to devote any time to figuring out how they'd managed that – and it was possible she was mistaken – but she would assume the worst as she always did.
"Do you know who it is?"
Thalma heard her straining to sound brave through her tremulous voice. "I think it's someone we've been working against. Are there any nearby logging roads? Roads that would take us off the main drag into a forested area?"
"I don't know about logging roads, but we're coming up on the turn-off for Cougar Mountain Park. There're lots of trails and woods..."
Thalma spotted the exit a half-mile ahead and moved into the right lane.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to drop you off at the first safe place. You will stay there, keeping out of sight, until I come back for you."
"When will that be?" Her tremulous voice had risen to a near-squeak.
"When I've eliminated the threat." Thalma glanced at her. The girl was curling into a protective ball on the seat. "Remember what I said about the risks of being around me? This is what I was talking about."
The girl's terrified expression raised an unwelcome rush of empathy.
"Look, it's going to be okay, Laura. Just do what I say, and it will be over soon."
"You'll eliminate the threat."
"Absolutely. They won't know I've dropped you off."
She whipped the Mustang onto the off-ramp. The Suburban was maybe thirty seconds back. She could almost certainly outrun it, but that wasn't her goal. She needed answers. And if she kept running – the longer the chase went on - they'd probably call in additional forces. The best option was to lure them into a kill zone and finish them.
A quarter of a mile from the freeway Thalma screeched to a halt off the side of the road near a thick stand of trees.
"Go!" She quickly memorized a few key landmarks. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay hidden and don't move."
Laura climbed out, much slower than Thalma would've liked, and struggled getting over a fence. Thalma eyed the rearview mirror, waiting for the Suburban to come roaring into view. But then Laura fell over the fence with a soft cry and scrambled out of view.
Thalma punched the gas, suppressing her discomfort over the girl's treatment. She could wallow in regret later.
On cue, the Suburban appeared a quarter-mile behind her. Good. She just had to stay a few seconds ahead to get clear of her car when she reached the right place.
She popped out her cell phone and tapped Maggie's number.
"About to call you." Maggie's voice was breathless. "We're being followed."
"Me, too."
"I think they tagged us through the rental car tracking GPS. Not sure how they identified our cars."
"Someone must've spotted us and took down our plates," said Thalma. "Maybe Albright. Guessing he's the one who called in the troops."
"Good of a guess as any. They're closing, Thalma. Gotta go. Good luck!"
"You, too."
But Thalma was speaking into dead air. Another spasm of dread joined the one spawned by her sister. In her fear she glimpsed how much she'd come to like Maggie and her irrepressible...well, almost everything about her. Damn it. This was what came of getting involved with people. If she got through this, she might just run away and live a solitary life again – leave Louis and even Socrates and her new Ovcharka, Plato, behind. She could have goldfish for pets. Make that plastic goldfish.
Thalma hung a left on Cougar Mountain Way and then a sharp right on Cougar Mountain Drive. The wooded, rural environment looked good for her plans. She wanted to get clear of the houses, and the narrowing road suggested that could happen. A sign appeared ahead: Anti-Aircraft Peak Trailhead.
She skidded to a stop in the parking lot and sprang out of the Mustang, not even bothering to turn off the engine. A few other cars announced the presence of people, but she sprinted away from the trail straight up into the dense woods. It was slow-going, but it wouldn't be any faster for her pursuers.
Thalma paused at the top of a small hill. Four men wearing backpacks eased through the brush below, eyes raking the forest. They stooped and broke open their packs, removing folding stock A-15s, which they locked and loaded. She had a shot from where she crouched, but a firefight in the woods this close to unknown numbers of weekend hikers was not in her plans. Nor did she want anyone calling the police.
She sprinted away, making enough noise to alert her pursuers. Their footfalls echoed in the forest behind her. She accelerated, creating some distance. Deeper and deeper into the woods and further from people. About a half-mile in, she sprinted back in a wide circle, coming in behind them. They'd spread out several yards, focusing on the sides and front, probably not believing she could slip past them or move fast enough to encircle them. She slipped the Glock 23 out from her waist holster.
Moving to their right flank, Thalma fired four quick shots – two connecting with the leg of one man, two with the side of another man's head – and was off and running before they got their rifles up and fired back. They formed up within a dense thicket, one man checking the leg wounds of his fallen partner while the other unwounded man scanned the forest. Thalma placed a round near the base of his throat, just above the body armor he was likely wearing. The remaining unwounded man dived behind a tree while the man with the leg wounds scrambled for cover and popped off a few shots in her direction.
Thalma circled them for another shot. She didn't intend to kill them all – didn't want to kill any of them – but this wasn't a time for humanitarian impulses. The key in these kinds of engagements was keeping your enemy in sight while they couldn't see you. Her speed gave her a big advantage, because people almost always underestimated how fast she could move from point A to point B.
Rather than clinging to cover, the two remaining men's training kicked in and they scrambled in different directions – the leg-wounded crawling on his belly – attempting to make harder targets and take the fight to her. They fired a few rounds as they heard her movement, but the bullets always struck where she had just been. Eventually, she reached a place where she had a shot – this time to the head of the last unwounded man as he peeked out from behind a tree. He keeled over.
Thalma eased in toward the last survivor.
"Look – you made your point!" the last man called out. "Let's talk. Maybe we can work something out."
"Toss your AR into the woods as far as you can," Thalma called back. "And your handgun."
"And then you put a bullet between my eyes?"
"If you tell me what I need to know, you can walk away. Or hobble away."
"Alright."
He tossed his AR. A large pistol flew after it. Thalma closed in cautiously. In her experience, the WSGI tactical division people thought they were all Rambos. They weren't the type to surrender lightly.
"Show me your hands," she said.
He held them up. "You fucked up my knee."
"It could've been your brains."
He was a thickly built redhead. Not as large as Plato's former owner. More like a fireplug – big shoulders, tree-trunk legs – a very large man compressed into a five-ten frame.
"How did you locate me – us?" Thalma asked.
"One of the scientists MacDougal visited got suspicious and called in your plates. The main office took it from there, contacting the car rental company and getting your coordinates."
"That's what I thought. What was your mission today?" Thalma took a step closer and dropped to one knee, drilling him with her gaze as he avoided her eyes. "I'd recommend the complete and unadulterated truth. I know when people are lying to me, and right now that would really piss me off."
The big redhead sucked on that notion for a moment before giving her a grudging nod.
"We were told to pick you up and question you and Dr. MacDougal. When we were satisfied – if we were satisfied – then, well, we were supposed to dispose of you."
Thalma held her breath for a moment before asking the next question.
"Did you capture my partner and Dr. MacDougal?"
"I don't know. Haven't heard."
A buzzing sound emanated from the side of the man's backpack.
"Your cell?"
"Yeah."
Thalma forced her thoughts into high gear. "Answer it and tell your superior or whoever's calling that you killed me and lost three men in the process. Find out if they captured my team. Remember" – Thalma tapped the top of her Glock with her forefinger – "you're of value to me only if you cooperate."
"Right." He scowled and retrieved his phone from his backpack. "Rogers here." He listened as a man on the other end spoke. "Yeah, it's over. The driver's dead. We lost three men. What happened on your end?" He paused. "Okay. I'll bring the bodies. See you soon."
Thalma motioned for the phone. He tossed it to her.
"What happened with my partner and MacDougal?"
"We got 'em." His smile suggested some satisfaction. "Clean grab. No one got hurt."
"Good." Thalma drew in a relieved breath. "So your men have a chance to come out of this alive."
Rogers shook his head and sneered. "So you got lucky and ambushed some of us. That doesn't make you Rambette."
"No. It just makes me the one with a gun and you the one lying there with two .40 slugs in your leg."
"Actually, one of them went clean through." He grinned. "But point taken."
"Can you walk?"
"I can do the one-legged shuffle."
Thalma had to give him some credit for his cheerful stoicism. Some soldiers were like that. Others anguished every setback as a sign that God didn't like them.
She pulled a pair of steel handcuffs from a dead man's backpack and tossed them to him.
"Behind your back," she said.
"Yes, ma'am."
He rolled onto his stomach and maneuvered the handcuffs into position. He snapped one cuff on his left wrists, and he twisted a bit to attach the remaining manacle. Thalma moved in to adjust them. She was starting to plant a foot on his back and bend down when he twisted out from under her foot and surged to one knee, a knife flashing up in his right hand.
The movement was so fast and explosive that the Gerber's seven-inch blade penetrated her blouse and nicked her stomach before she blocked it with two hands. His savage grin imploded as she trapped his wrist and yanked him violently off his knees. Maintaining her grip, she forced his wrist down on her right knee. Bone and cartilage gave and Rogers released the knife with a hoarse cry.
