“Thanks. Yeah, we ran into trouble just up the road a bit.” Lilburn decided to explain what had happened. The news someone was murdered just up the road would travel around the local community like wildfire. “Me and another agent were taking this lady to JFK where she has a plane to catch back to London.”
“You English, right? I figured you weren’t from around here. I wuz right, wasn’t I, Chugga?”
“You a real bright spark, Fuz, now shuddup and let the man talk. Sorry ’bout my brother. Aw heck, where’s our manners? Ma’am, you sit yourself down over here in this chair.” Chugga brushed off the seat of a wooden chair and placed it next to Evangeline, who accepted the offer graciously. “Trouble, you say, mister? Shootin’ kind of trouble?”
Lilburn moved to the doorway and leaned against the frame looking out towards the main road partially visible in the distance. He nodded. “Two cars turned up as we were sorting out some vehicle trouble. They opened fire and killed our driver.” Lilburn drained the last of the water from the glass and moved towards the sink. “So we escaped and made our way here.”
“Hell, ya hear that, Chugga — a man wuz killed just over yonder! An official agent! Oh, there’ll be some trouble coz of that!”
“I hear ya, Fuz. Ain’t no one been killed in here in a while.”
“Least ways no bodies been dumped here lately. Not like in Daddy’s day — I cain’t wait till the old man hears about this!”
The brothers were totally enthralled by the notion, but also disturbingly unfazed, and Lilburn realized they were crushing rocks for a very good reason. It was about all they could do. Eventually one of the huge men suggested they better get back to feeding the crusher, and Lilburn asked if he and Evangeline could rest in the shack until help arrived. The brothers were only too happy to accommodate their visitors and left to return to work. Lilburn watched as the men headed off, still chattering excitedly about the killing and speculating on whether anyone had found the body yet.
Evangeline hadn’t moved from the chair. “I can’t believe Suzanna would do this to us. I can’t even comprehend any grounds for the Takfir to kill us now — it’s more like an act of revenge, while their deploying the virus into America was an act of war. We’re way too trivial to be of any significance.”
“I agree. Did you see the gunmen? They weren’t typical Takfir operatives. The two I saw were both Caucasian, more like paid thugs.” He moved across the room and sat in the chair by the upturned wooden box with the deck of cards on top. Picking up the cards he turned the deck over. On the back of each card was a photo of scantily clad woman — twenty years ago the pictures would have been considered erotic — now they just looked well fed and enthusiastic. “Somehow I doubt you’ll be making JFK today.” He knew Evangeline was right — there was no logical reason for Mac’s death. It irked him. He let the cards fall to the box and looked at his watch. Just after midday. He would wait another twenty minutes.
The fax machine spat out a single page to the floor.
Attention: Matt Lilburn
Matt, I have tried to inform Director Hall of your predicament but he left his office early this morning. Your people will make contact with him and advise situation. In meantime, helicopter and support expected to be dispatched to you ASAP. If I can be of assistance please inform.
Lance Gibbons.
“We should be getting picked up soon.”
Evangeline nodded, looking exhausted. The front-end loader started up outside. Lilburn watched through a window as the large machine drove towards the crusher plant. One of the brothers was driving; the other cadged a lift in the bucket. “They’re a couple of characters — quite sweet really.” Evangeline rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you think someone would have seen poor Mac by now?” She hung onto his arm, gripping him as she would a security blanket.
“My guess is those bastards would have cleaned the area and driven the car over the bank. I think Mac… Well, let’s just wait and see.”
“Is that what you would have done?”
“It’s a crappy game we’re in; Allan Hall pointed that out. To fight the enemy, sometimes you’ve got to think like them.”
Eventually the cramped hut began to feel oppressive, and they moved outside. Lilburn looked out towards the main road about a half mile away — every so often a vehicle could be seen passing before disappearing behind the trees.
When the crusher started up, it sounded like a tank driving over loose gravel, a mixture of clunking, belts squeaking and rocks pulverizing. The cabless front-end loader with its large rubber wheels and a full bucket of rocks pushed up a ramp made of gravel, black smoke billowing from its exhaust in belching puffs with each depression of the accelerator. At the top of the ramp it raised and tilted the bucket filling the crusher with raw material. Rocks tumbled down, hitting the metal sides of the hopper before being crushed and sorted. Two large conveyor belts spat the gravel out into two separate piles. Very big piles.
“I think those two have been doing this work for some time now,” Lilburn observed.
Evangeline nudged him. “Matt, over there.”
Lilburn looked down and followed her gaze. Two dark cars slowly edged forward on the entrance track to the quarry from a road somewhere out of sight behind the building. The cars stopped one behind the other, a stone’s throw away. Lilburn could see the front passenger windows were lowered. He didn’t recognize the passenger in the front vehicle but he recognized the driver of the one behind. The man wore a blue and white baseball cap, back to front.
“Don’t move a muscle.” Lilburn’s mind worked like a chessmaster — fast and calculating. Retreat into the shack was out of the question, they would be boxed in. The tree line was too far to reach over open ground. A tall gravel pile was thirty feet away, achievable but only by passing close to the assailants. That left only one option.
The passenger in the front car was the first to spot them. He swiftly shoved a handgun out his window and pulled the trigger. At the first sign of movement Lilburn spun Evangeline around, grabbed her hand and ran. The bullet raised dust as it furrowed a path in the hard gravel pad. A few paces more and Lilburn hauled Evangeline out of view beside the shack.
Scurrying from immediate view was just the first stage. Lilburn could hear the cars spinning their wheels on gravel; they would be gunning it to the shack. A graveyard with an old rusting bulldozer and the skeleton of a flat-bed truck along with years of metal waste lay twenty yards away, potential cover. “This way.” The pair dashed for the scrap metal, barely making safety as bullets pinged into steel. This time Evangeline didn’t need to be pushed to the ground. Behind the hulk of the dozer, Lilburn sat with his back to the heavy push-frame attached to an immense blade. The Sig 9 mm rested comfortably in the palm of his hand.
The cars had come to a skidding halt outside the shack and three men leapt out. One rushed inside, his handgun covering out. The other two stood their ground by the side of the shack, legs bent and braced sending off a crescendo of automatic fire into their hiding place.
Lilburn flattened himself on his stomach behind the iron barrier and squirmed to find somewhere to return fire. The advantage was with the gunmen and he was acutely aware that one or more of them could outflank his position and cut them down. Where one of the tracks met the ground, a narrow line of sight presented itself. The Sig let loose two rounds in quick succession, which caused the gunmen to think twice and seek cover.
Lilburn looked to his rear for a possible escape route. The tree line was at least fifty yards away; even if he could provide covering fire for Evangeline, he doubted their chances. A lull in the incoming fire presented another opportunity. He rose up to a kneeling position. One man was running off to the right in the outflanking maneuver. The Sig followed his path, then pushed ahead of the man. Lilburn let the hammer fall. The man took the bullet in his chest, falling face first into the hard gravel.