There came a sharp knock on the door as Angel said, “Hello, Mr. Struffeneger…is everything okay? I heard shouting.”
Farley froze in his tracks at the sound of an unexpected voice. A Southern- sounding female was calling through the door, demanding his attention. The knocking persisted. He had no way to measure the seriousness of this threat. He’d been assured that no one was left on the premises, and his own cursory inspection showed no evidence of anyone. How could a woman have heard the scream?
“Help,” Jer moaned as loud as he could manage, still reeling from the searing pain left by the terrible brand. The burn was so intense that he should have passed out, but he continued yelling to draw attention from whoever was outside the house.
“Shut up. You hear me?” Farley fumed. “Or I’ll shoot you where you sit.”
He moved cautiously toward the front door, wondering what to expect. There was no way he missed anyone outside. With no other living quarters or hired hands on site, Farley quickly determined that someone must surely have followed the Marshalls. He swung around, drew his Glock, and began firing into the door. Whoever was standing behind it was dead.
This was all the opening needed by Morris. Farley had stepped beyond the hostages and given him a clear shot without background interference. He hoped to heaven Angelina had stayed clear of the door or she was now a casualty. He trained the crosshairs of the Nighthawk scope on the back of Farley’s head and squeezed the trigger.
All hell broke loose. The bullet slammed into the plate glass slider, which exploded with a roar into a thousand shards of glass. The path of the bullet slightly deflected as it penetrated the glass, but hit the gunman along the side of his neck, spinning him around. Morris rapidly ejected the spent cartridge and jacked another in the chamber. He steadied the sights on the biggest part of the man’s torso and sent a second round into the house.
Farley, meanwhile, was firing wildly through the wide opening, hoping to hit the shooter. As he did so, the second bullet found its mark, hitting him center mass in the middle of the sternum, cutting his heart in half. He dropped his hands, staggering forward, but momentarily remaining upright.
Morris repeated his action and pumped a third shot from the Winchester. 30–06 into the man’s forehead. The bullet tore through his skull, blowing his brains and the back of his head all over the room.
Stuart Farley was dead. Ryan heard him crash to the floor and could see by the absence of his shadow that he was no longer moving. The propane flame still cast an eerie blue light throughout the room, but the only sound now was the subdued hiss of the torch. Somehow the rescue he prayed for had miraculously come to pass. Ryan was overwhelmed with a tremendous sense of relief.
Within seconds of Farley hitting the floor, Angelina rushed into the room off the back porch and through the broken glass. She groped for a switch and turned on the lights. The light exposed a grizzly scene that momentarily gave her pause. She steadied herself, looking past the carnage of the nearly headless man and moved quickly to Sela’s aid. She began by carefully pulling the tape off Sela’s mouth.
“Oh, my God, Sela. I’m so sorry…are you okay?” she asked, fumbling with the rope, not knowing how to get her untied.
Sela was awestruck, too stunned to comprehend everything that had taken place in the past few minutes. She was trembling with nervous energy and her voice quavered. “I…I’m…o…okay now,” she said. “I ca…can’t believe it…you found me. You really did it, Angel. You…saved us. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life.”
“It wasn’t just me…I had help. There’s a policeman out there that’s been tracking you for a long time. He’ll be here any minute. Here, let me help you,” Angel said, moving to Sarah, pulling her shirt up to cover her exposed breasts. She carefully removed the tape from Sarah’s mouth and then moved to Jer.
“Oh, my poor baby, look what he’s done to you…how dreadful. It’ll be okay, sweetheart; we’ll get you help real soon.”
As Angelina was tending to Jer, Morris came rushing into the room. He was carrying his rifle, still wearing the night-vision goggles that were perched precariously on the crown of his head.
“Folks, I’m Lieutenant David Morris from Palo Alto Police,” he started, laying the gun carefully against the hearth. “Let me see if I can get you out of these ropes.” He drew a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and skillfully cut through the rope, using great care as he worked. With the rope severed, he unwound the full length, freeing the hostages.
“Which of you is Mrs. Marshall?” he asked, looking to Sarah and Sela.
“I am,” Sarah replied shakily.
“We’ve been trading phone messages for a few days now, ma’am. I’m honored to meet you, but regret I couldn’t prevent your son’s injury…we’ll get the medics here right away. Angel, please call 911. Ask for paramedics and police at Wildcat Farm,” Morris ordered.
“I’m on it, Dave. Get the young man over to the couch. This burn looks ghastly,” she said, grimacing, caressing Jer’s face before she moved toward the kitchen in search of a phone.
“Mr. Marshall…I’m pleased to meet you too, sir,” Morris said, jerking the tape quickly off Ryan’s mouth. “You’re one pain-in-my-ass slippery hombre. I don’t know how you two made it this far…but my hat’s off to both of you. Your parents are one-of-a-kind, kid,” he said, looking over to Jer. “I’ve never seen two more determined people in my life. They obviously love you very much.”
“Don’t be concerned with me…get my wife and Sela untied,” Ryan urged. He was stunned by Morris’s arrival, but incredibly grateful he somehow figured out where they were being held.
“How…how did you find us?” Sarah asked hesitantly, her voice shallow, unable to shake the trauma of hearing Jer’s hideous ordeal.
“Ma’am, you’ve only to thank the young lady over there on the phone,” he said, nodding his head toward Angelina. “Angel pieced it all together; she’s the one who unlocked the riddle. Had it not been for her, we wouldn’t have arrived in time. She’s deserves all the credit for your rescue.”
“It’s not over, Lieutenant,” Ryan said urgently. He and Morris lifted Jer and were walking him awkwardly toward the sofa. “We’ve got to go after these guys… now. They’ve got Jarrod. They’ll kill him once he activates the gravity machine.”
“Relax…it’s okay now,” Morris replied. “There are two special agents tailing him to Fort Knox as we speak. They won’t get away with anything…trust me.”
“No, you don’t understand…listen to me,” Ryan demanded, carefully laying Jer down. “Jarrod’s gonna pull something; I guarantee it. He’ll stop at nothing to bring these guys down, even if it costs his life. You don’t know his resolve. This has sparked his revenge like you can’t believe.”
“ Ryan, listen to the officer,” Sela forcefully interrupted, grabbing his arm. “You’ve done enough. Let the authorities take it from here. These men are breaking into Fort Knox for-cryin’-out-loud. They won’t get away with this. Now, please…your only priority is Jer.”
Jer lifted his head from the pillow, attempting to sit up. “Go get him, Pop,” he said weakly. “Uncle Jarrod needs you. He sacrificed himself to save the rest of us. We can’t leave him out there alone.”
“I can’t allow that, sir,” Morris ordered, taking charge of the matter. “Listen to reason…you and Mrs. Marshall have been a tremendous asset, but your lawlessness has run its course. You’ll go to the hospital with your son, or I’ll have no problem placing you under arrest.”
Ryan walked over and calmly picked up the Glock still lying beside Farley. He made an obvious show of sticking the gun in his belt, and then let his hands drop to his side. “Do what you gotta do, Lieutenant. I’ve come too far to give up now. If you knew the history behind this mess, you’d understand why I have to go after Jarrod. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to explain. I’d like your help but I’ll continue alone if we can’t agree.”