“Prisoners?” Mackinnon hissed.
“Yeah. Couple of prisoners, I-”
“You assholes let me bring these arms into an insecure area?”
“It’s not insecure, it’s-”
“ZOG would put me away for life if they caught me with this shipment! Are these guys cops? FBI? Secret Service? Customs?”
Jesus, the guy is flipping out, Cal thought. He said, “I don’t know who they are. We haven’t really started questioning them yet.”
“Well, we’re goddamn well going to start now!”
Cal saw Bob Hansen walking over with that sour look he got on his face when he didn’t think things were going the way he wanted.
“What’s happening here? What’s the yelling about?”
“Where’s Carter?” Mackinnon yelled.
Cal almost smiled, because he’d never heard anyone yell at Hansen before.
“He’s back at my house, having a rest,” Hansen answered.
“His ass is in the sack and he’s got mine in a sling?”
Cal had to put his hand to his mouth and fake a cough.
“What’s the trouble?” Hansen asked. Cal could tell the boss was starting to get pissed off.
“The trouble is,” Mackinnon said with exaggerated patience, like he was talking to the slowest kid in the fifth grade, “that you guys have let me drive a truckload full of illegal arms into a place the law seems to have targeted. That’s what the trouble is.”
“We’re taking care of the-” Hansen started to say.
“You’re not taking care of shit!” Mackinnon yelled.
Cal saw Bob Hansen go positively pale.
“Where are they?” Mackinnon asked. He looked away, put his hands on his waist, and shook his head.
“They’re locked up,” Cal said. He pointed at the small bunker. “Right over there.”
Mackinnon said to Cal, “Let’s go.”
Hansen butted in. “Now wait just a minute. This is none of your concern. Reverend Carter-”
“You did search them for transmitters, didn’t you?” Mackinnon asked.
“We were about to do that when you came in,” Cal lied. He was some kind of embarrassed, especially because about half of the boys were standing a few feet away watching the whole scene.
He was grateful when Mackinnon turned his rage toward Hansen. “I want my money right now. Then I’m out of here.”
Hansen’s face looked like stone. “Come to the house with me. You’ll get every damn penny.”
“You’re damn right I’ll get every damn penny. But bring it here, to the truck. I’m not walking into any house with you. Half the National Guard might be hiding in there,” Mackinnon answered. He turned back to Cal. “You’re about the only half-competent guy around this place. Will you go with him to get my money?”
Cal looked to Hansen and the boss nodded curtly.
“I want to see these prisoners of yours,” Mackinnon said. “I’ve been dodging these ass wipes my whole life. I can probably look at them and tell you what agency, which office, and how they like their coffee.”
Cal yelled to the gaggle of men who were standing around pretending not to listen. “Jory! Dave! Take him to see the prisoners! Keep your eyes open!”
“I don’t believe this,” Mackinnon muttered as they walked over to the bunker. He reached under his coat, pulled his pistol, and laid it down in front of the bunker.
Dave and Jory stared at him.
“You don’t go into a cell with your weapon,” Mackinnon explained. “What if they grab you and take it from you?”
“They’re chained to the wall,” Dave said. “And Randy’s in there.”
“Then what do you need a gun for?” Mackinnon answered.
They laid their guns down and went inside. Randy closed the door behind them. He turned the light on and Mackinnon looked down at the one man shivering on the floor and the other one a bleeding lump stretched out over two sawhorses.
Then he lost his temper.
Ed’s spinning back kick slammed into Dave’s solar plexus and knocked all the air and most of the will to live right out of him. Dave crumpled to the floor gasping for air, his legs kicking spasmodically like a cockroach set on its back.
Randy pulled a combat knife from his belt and stabbed down at Ed’s neck. Ed shifted to the left, brought both arms up, and crossed them to form an X. He blocked the knife, held Randy’s wrist, turned around and under Randy’s trapped armed, then slammed Randy’s wrist down on his own collarbone. The knife dropped from Carlisle’s hand as his elbow snapped with a dry crack. Carlisle screamed as Ed spun the broken arm around behind his back, held his neck down, and pulled the shoulder out of its socket. Ed kicked Randy in the face, breaking his nose and one cheekbone, and then let him fall to the floor.
All of this took maybe five seconds, and Jory stood watching in shock before he organized his legs to head for the door. Ed lunged and grabbed him by the back of the belt, heaved backward, and threw him over the top of his shoulder. The boy landed hard on the floor, his head snapping back and smacking on the concrete. He was out.
Ed quickly untied Graham and cradled him in his arms.
“You’ve been working out,” Graham murmured to Ed.
Ed gently set Graham down. Then he took off his big coat and laid it out on the floor. A Velcro strap under the left arm held a large automatic pistol. Another strap fastened what looked like a small, flat black box. Ed set these things down, then wrapped Graham up in the coat. He looked at Graham’s swollen eyes, which were now more like slits. “Who did this to you?”
Graham pointed his chin at Randy. “He’s one of them, but I think you already broke every bone in his arm.”
Ed nodded, saw that Dave was struggling to make it to his hands and knees, pivoted on his right foot, and drove a side kick into the man’s jaw. Dave’s head banged into the wall and he slumped to the floor again.
“Neither of you smoke, huh?” Ed asked. “I need a cig.”
He bent over Dave’s unconscious body and found a pack of Marlboros and some matches in his top shirt pocket. He took a cigarette and lit it, then took a drag and exhaled with a contented sigh. “It’s been a long day,” he said.
“Uh, Ed?” Neal asked. “Maybe you could let me loose?”
“Sorry, I got carried away.”
He took the key ring off Randy, found the right keys, and unlocked the handcuffs.
Neal rubbed his wrists to work the circulation back into them. “It’s nice to see you, Ed,” he said.
“It’s nice to be seen,” Ed answered. His back to Graham, he mouthed the words can he walk?
Neal shook his head.
“You asshole,” Graham muttered. “Why didn’t you tell us what you were planning?”
Ed handcuffed Dave to the wall as he said, “What if you got captured, which you did… and tortured, which you did… and you broke? Which you didn’t, but it’s early. This way you had nothing to tell them.”
“Thanks a lot. So, you have an army out there?” Graham asked.
“I came alone,” Ed answered. He pointed at the bodies slumped on the floor. “I am an army.”
Which is a pisser, Ed thought. He had a hit squad standing by in Reno. This was supposed to have been a recon trip. Find out what the hell was going on with Carey and Graham and also set SOS up on a federal arms charge as well as the robbery rap. Not to mention get the Bank’s money back. He hadn’t planned to find Neal and Joe chained in a bunker. And when he’d seen Graham trussed up, bleeding and in pain, he knew there wasn’t going to be time to get to Reno and back. Not unless he just wanted to recover their bodies.
Jory was crawling over to the wall.
Ed gestured with the handcuffs, “Come here, kid.”
Jory stuck his hand out and Ed chained him to the wall.
“So do you also have a secret plan to get us out of here?” Graham asked.
Well, I did, Ed thought. “That depends on how many of us there are,” Ed answered. “Cody?”
“He’s dead,” Graham answered.
Neal started to say, “He isn’t-”
“Neal doesn’t think so,” Graham said.
Neal kicked Randy in the stomach. “What happened to the boy?” he asked.