Deadly Shore, page 16
He got back into his car, closing the door quietly. He turned his lights out and crept down the road past the occupied house, only turning them on when he felt he was a safe distance away. When he reached Rt. 6, he sped back as quickly as he could on the near empty road.
Flint would be happy.
*****
Flint was ecstatic.
"You're sure about the car?"
"Checked the plate and everything. It's his car. I'm guessing he either ran out of gas or had an engine problem by the way it was pushed off to the side. He was trying to hide it as best he could, but it wasn't good enough."
"And the house?"
"Gotta be in there with the old lady I saw in the window, unless he broke into the wrecked one up the road. At any rate, they are only a few hundred yards apart, so if he's not in the occupied house, we can just move on to the other one."
"Any chance you're wrong?"
"Hell, no …" He stopped. Flint was giving him a look.
"I mean, no sir. It's the boonies out there. He'd have to walk miles to get to any civilization. He's there. I'm convinced of it."
"Okay, then you guys head out tomorrow around noon."
"Uh, boss? That's when the hurricane is supposed to hit."
"Exactly. You get my money and the other item, you kill him, then you torch the place. Everyone will think Chad caused it."
"But it means we have to drive through it."
"What are you, a fucking wuss? We've been given the perfect time to kill him. You're going to complain about some rain and wind?"
I notice you're not going with us, thought two or three of the men simultaneously.
"By this time tomorrow," said Flint. "Joe Doyle will be dead."
Chapter 36
By the time they had finished interrogating Seth the day before, it was too late to try to find Mason. In order to keep an eye on Seth, Marcus had once again slept on the air mattress in the living room, much to his chagrin as well as Sara's. They were up early the next day, discussing their plans at breakfast.
"Can we find him in a day?" asked Sara.
"That depends on how helpful Seth is," answered Marcus, giving Seth a hard look. "Do you have anything you can give us that would be useful?"
Seth thought for a minute, was about to say something, stopped himself, thought for a moment more, and finally said, "I know where two of them were living."
"You what?" asked Marcus, incredulously.
"Are you kidding me?" said Sara. "You just happened to think of it now? We could have done something about it last night."
Seth was silent.
"He didn't just think of it," said Marcus. He turned to Seth. "Did you?"
"Not exactly."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"I don't want to have anything more to do with them."
"Even though it might help us find them and stop this, you still didn't want to tell us? The fact that it might save your life didn't factor into your decision? You were willing to waste even more hours of valuable time?"
Seth didn't say anything.
"Whose address?"
"Two of the guys. It's just a cottage. One of those summer rentals."
"Let me guess," said Sara, "in Falmouth."
He nodded.
"How do you know?" asked Marcus.
"I was there."
"Explain."
"I told you before that there was someone who got me involved in this—someone I knew. In the beginning he was my contact person until Tanner took over. One day, I was supposed to bring a load of supplies down to the Cape—stuff they didn't want to be seen buying. I got lost, so I called my friend Harry to let him know I couldn't find the meeting place. He tried to describe it, then said, 'Ah, hell, just bring it to my place.' I got the feeling that he wasn't supposed to do that, but I think he was just being lazy. I think he forgot I was coming, because he hadn't even left for the meeting spot yet. Anyway, he directed me to this house in Falmouth. I delivered the stuff, we had a few beers, and then I left. He had a roommate, and the guy seemed nervous that I was there. That's why I think my seeing it was against the rules."
"When was that?"
"I don't know. Maybe three weeks ago. Maybe a month. I don't even know if they are still there."
"Do you at least have an address?" asked Sara.
"No."
"Of course you don't. Would you know how to find it?"
"If I got close enough, I could probably recognize some landmarks. It was near the water. I've gotta go pee."
"I've got the bathroom window alarmed," said Sara. "Don't think about crawling out."
He hesitated, then walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
"I think that's just what he was planning," said Sara.
"I think I'm just going to kill him now," said Marcus.
"You can't. There's a law against killing stupid people."
"They should repeal it."
"I agree."
His escape plan botched, they heard Seth flush, then come back into the room.
"I'll help you try to find the apartment," he said, "but that's where my involvement in all this ends."
"Ends?" said Marcus. "You are one of the reasons we are all in this situation. You are one of the reasons so many people are dead. Do you really think you can bow out of this now?"
Seth was silent.
"I'll tell you what we will do, though. If you can lead us to the correct location, you can stay in the car while we check it out."
"Okay," he mumbled.
"It's almost ten o'clock," said Marcus, looking at his watch. "I say we go find this place and sit on it for a bit to see what kind of activity there is." He looked at Sara. "Do you still have any handcuffs?"
"I do, but you don't strike me as a handcuffs kind of guy," she said. "I imagine you getting things done in a different sort of way."
Marcus smiled. "These are for Seth, to keep him in the car."
"I wouldn't go anywhere," said Seth belligerently.
"Of course you wouldn't," said Marcus. "I say we should get on the road. How far to Falmouth?"
"With no traffic we could do it in a little more than a half hour from here. I don't anticipate many cars on the road, but who knows what's out there."
Sara went back into her bedroom and came out carrying her gun and holster, in addition to her handcuffs. "Feels good to carry it again," she remarked. "Wish I was legal."
"As your cop friend said, I don't think it matters anymore."
They left the condo to the sound of hammering. The noise seemed to be coming from all around them, and mixed with the rain seemed almost muted.
"Hurricane preparations," said Sara. "I'm sure people don't know which disaster to pay the most attention to: Being stuck on the Cape; not knowing what the terrorists have in mind; or Hurricane Chad. Chad is the one thing they have even the slightest control over at this point. Putting the plywood up over the windows at least gives them something to do."
The wind had picked up from the day before, but they knew that this was only a hint of what they were in for. They opened the doors to Marcus's Pathfinder and Marcus ushered Seth into the back seat. He held his hand out for the cuffs. Sara opened them and gave them to him. He secured Seth to a metal bracket that ran down the back of the seat for anchoring infant car seats. All the while Seth wore a scowl.
"Do you mind driving again?" Marcus asked Sara. He had grabbed his case of equipment as they went out the door and now put it in the back of the SUV. He opened it and took out his silencer, closed the back, and climbed into the passenger seat.
Sara gave him a look.
"This might come in handy."
She nodded and put the car in gear.
They drove through Hyannis, almost a ghost town at this point. Word of the anthrax threat hadn't yet hit the airwaves, so things were still calm. All the way down Route 28 to Falmouth they passed houses and businesses in various stages of hurricane preparation. For the most part the roads were empty of vehicles. Occasionally, though, they came upon a crash site a couple of days old. The manpower didn't exist during the height of the panic to clean up after the accidents.
"Seems kind of eerie," said Marcus. "Different from a usual summer day, from what I've seen."
"This isn't even a usual winter day," replied Sara. "These days, traffic here on the Upper Cape even in the winter can be pretty heavy at times. This is just plain spooky."
They reached East Falmouth and Sara turned to Seth and said, "Okay, start talking."
"This doesn't look familiar. Definitely not here."
"Okay, we keep going."
As they approached downtown Falmouth, there was more activity, mostly with shop owners preparing what was left of their businesses for Chad.
"Ever been in a hurricane?" asked Marcus.
"Hurricane Bob," Sara answered. "I was still in high school and was on the Cape for the summer. It was right toward the end of the summer and I was getting close to going home. I was staying here in Falmouth and Bob hit us head-on. It wasn't big as hurricanes go. I think it was a Category 2, but those numbers don't mean anything to me. It was strong. It blew down massive oaks and blew boats right onto land. We lost power for a week. Funny, you know what I remember the most? The bees. With all the trees coming down, I think massive numbers of bees lost their homes. People were getting stung all over the place. I was stung four times over that week. Bees and the sound of chainsaws, those are the things I remember the most." She paused. "That hurricane was scary and it was a relatively small one. If Chad does hit as a Category 4, I can't imagine what this place will look like."
Seth broke into her reverie.
"Here. This road. I definitely came down this road."
They were in the center of downtown Falmouth.
"Shore Street," said Sara. "It leads to the water."
They drove down the road in silence. When they reached the water, the road bore right, running parallel to the beach.
"Still look familiar?" asked Sara.
"Yeah, this is definitely it. There is a side road somewhere up here."
"Pick the right one. There are a few side roads."
"I will. This all looks familiar. Here. This one. Turn right."
"Well I'm certainly not going to turn left, or we'll be driving across the water to the Vineyard."
Sara turned the car slowly onto the side road. On either side were summer cottages, including a whole strip of connected units that looked almost like a motel.
"Slow down," said Seth. "There it is. On the right, about three houses up."
Sara stopped the car.
"The gray one with the old lobster traps out front."
"They're all gray and they all have lobster traps," said Sara.
"Okay, the one that doesn't have an upside down broken boat in the yard."
Marcus and Sara spotted it. All the shades in the house were drawn.
"What now?" asked Seth.
"We sit for a bit and see if there is any movement," said Marcus. "Then we go introduce ourselves. All of these cottages look empty."
"They've all gone to shelters," said Sara. "Anyone with any sense knows that by tomorrow night, these houses will most likely be gone. It's why they didn't bother bringing in the lobster trap decorations or the skiffs. It doesn't matter."
"It'll make it easier for us to do our job," said Marcus. He opened his door. "Forget waiting. I've spent too many hours over the last week sitting and waiting. It's time to make something happen. You with me?"
"Gladly."
Marcus turned to Seth. "Now you sit quietly and behave yourself and maybe you'll make it out of this alive. Take a nap."
He closed his door before he had to listen to Seth's response.
"Front or back?" asked Marcus.
"I'll take the front and distract them," she replied. "You can take them from the rear. Boy, do I miss this."
They separated, with Marcus going down the side of the house next door, then coming around the back to the house Seth had pointed out. Sara, meanwhile, waited a minute to give Marcus time to get into position, then strode up to the door and knocked with the butt of her gun.
"Falmouth police. You need to evacuate. A major hurricane is headed this way."
No answer from inside, so she pounded on the door again.
"We know you haven't evacuated yet. It's too dangerous to be here. This house will get destroyed tomorrow. If you stay, you will die."
Those were the words that finally did it. The door opened a crack and a skinny man in his twenties peered out at her. He looked scared.
"Is it really going to hit?"
"A head-on collision without air bags. All of these cottages will be swept away. If you're still here you will not survive it."
The minute he heard them talking, Marcus picked the lock on the back door and let himself in. The cottage was small, and he saw two men standing near the door. One was talking to Sara, using the door to hide the gun in his hand, and a second man was hiding behind the door with his gun drawn. At that moment he saw Marcus and raised his gun. Marcus shot him in the leg, the loud pop of the suppressed gun echoing in the house. The gun dropped and the man screamed.
The other man looked back in fear, and as he did, Sara kicked open the door, slamming the man in the head. He was momentarily dazed, and Marcus took two long strides and brought his gun down hard on the man's arm. He cried out in pain and dropped his gun. Sara picked up both guns and set them down on a table.
The man with the leg wound was groaning in pain.
"Stop being a baby," said Marcus. "I didn't shoot you any place that will kill you. It'll hurt and you'll lose some blood, but you'll be fine."
"I'll sue you and the police department. I've seen how it's done," he said, slumped on the floor.
"And you call yourself terrorists?" asked Sara. "You're going to sue us?"
The one with the bad leg suddenly jumped up on his good leg, whipped out a hunting knife, and threw himself at Sara. Marcus put two bullets into the man's skull and he dropped to the floor dead.
That scared the other man, and he threw his hands in the air. He kept looking down at his dead friend on the floor.
"Don't shoot me!"
"We won't need to if you answer our questions. We want to know where Mason is.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
Marcus rapped him on the side of the head with his gun and the man hit the floor dazed.
"Something you need to know," said Marcus. "We're not cops. We don't have to follow any rules. Are you Harry or is the dead guy Harry?"
He was silent, so Marcus raised his gun hand, as if to hit him again. The man tried to cover his head and said, "I'm Harry."
"Well Harry," said Marcus. "You want to know how we found you? Your friend Seth. Unfortunately, Seth didn't like our interrogation techniques and he is not doing so well. He's in a lot of pain and one arm will never be right again. He could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he'd just told us what we wanted to know. Now, there's only one way you will live and that's if you tell us what we need to know. Where's Mason?"
"I can show you where he lives, but I don't know if he's there."
"Close enough."
"Did you kill Tanner?" asked Harry, his voice cracking.
Marcus looked at Sara, then said, "Tall skinny guy with a big Adam's apple?"
Harry nodded.
"Fraid so. Your friends don't live too long. You'd better hope you're not from the same gene pool."
Harry looked even more scared than before.
"Before we go for Mason, how about you tell us how many are involved," said Sara.
"What do you think we are involved in?"
"We have zero patience," said Marcus. "Zero."
"Eight," said Harry. "Six now, since you killed Tanner and Carson. Mason is the boss. Tanner was too, but I think Mason had all the ideas. The explosives guys are Danielson and Packer, and then there's Holt and Jones. Like us, they are the eyes. They go all over the Cape and report. You were lucky to find us here. The cell phones going down kind of screwed up our ability to report, so we came back. We were going to go report to Mason in person in a while."
"You still can. You'll just have company."
They escorted Harry out of the house to the waiting car and threw him in the back seat, causing him to land on top of Seth. He moved to the empty seat, all the while staring at Seth.
"What the fuck?" said Harry. "They said you were beat up. Hell, you gave me up willingly, you asshole." He lashed out with his fist and smashed Seth's nose. Blood spurted all over the back seat.
"Hey," yelled Marcus. "Not on the leather."
Sara found some tissues in the glove compartment and passed them back.
"You keep your hands to yourself," said Sara, "or your nose will look like Seth's."
Harry dropped his head.
"So where are we going?" asked Sara.
"Turn right here. It'll lead up to Main Street, then hang a left."
The rain was fairly steady, with the wind keeping pace. Unlike earlier, however, people were out, and they seemed frantic about something. Marcus and Sara glanced at each other and Sara turned on the radio to a local station.
Repeating the breaking news, it has been reported that the terrorists holding the Cape hostage are in possession of a powerful strain of anthrax and threaten to disperse it if their demands are not met. It is unknown to the media at this time what those demands are, or the authorities' reaction to the demands.
Marcus turned off the radio and looked back at Harry.
"Seth told us the demands. Did you really think the government was going to give in to them?"
"Personally, I don't care about the land. I just want the money."
"And you think they'll do that?" asked Marcus. "You know the old 'we don't negotiate with terrorists' saying? I can tell you right now that there is no way you'll ever get what you want."
"Mason says we will."
"Mason's an idiot."
"No, he's smart."
