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.You in love with the president’s wife or something?”Mikey flashed a weak grin.“Naw.Just wanted to see if you were turning into a liberal Nancy.”His friend laughed and turned back to the stage.Mikey grimaced and and fell forward.+++10:12amBurly security guards hopped over the short barricade and moved to the man lying on the ground.“Are you okay, sir?” one of the guards yelled over the music.Mikey was writhing on the ground, his friend kneeling down to see what he could do.“Go get my medicine,” Mikey said so only his companion could hear.“Right now? Where is it?”“Back in our room,” he motioned for his buddy to come closer.“Stay there until after.” Mikey’s eyes burned with intensity.His friend nodded and backed away, turning to the guards, who were having a hard time holding the curious crowd back.“I, uh, have to run and get his medicine.”The head guard reached down to start moving the sick man.“We’ll take him to the first aid station.You can pick him up there.”Mikey’s friend moved off to find the nearest exit.His friend looked bad.He hoped the medicine would help.+++10:15amCal had watched the scene from afar.It looked like someone had had too much to drink.The troop of security guards had finally loaded the prostrate man onto a yellow stretcher and were easing their way through the crowd.He’d seen the friend leave moments earlier and had ordered a reluctant Daniel to follow him.Now alone, Cal watched as the guards moved, keeping his eyes glued to the passage.+++10:16am“Shit.” The man observing the medical extraction from half a mile away put down his telescopic lens and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.The redneck had passed out early.A number flashed onto the screen.He pressed DIAL.Three seconds later, a BOOM sounded from the arena.The man calmly palmed the phone, threw it into the waterway below, made his way to the ground floor of the rented home and slid into the waiting car.Chapter 13Orange Beach, Alabama10:18am, December 18thThe semi-retiree looked up from his newspaper.The man with a neatly trimmed grey hair and goatee sat nursing a coffee and mild hangover looking forward to a day of cruising the deserted coast on his black 2002 Fatboy Harley Davidson.He’d polished his baby up the night before.The explosion was close.He knew the area well.He’d lived in Orange Beach for years and had either ridden or stumbled through most of its roadways and byways.The amphitheater was ten blocks from his one bedroom condo.He’d heard about the first lady’s visit, as had anyone who read or watched the news in the off-season beach town.Not that he cared other than to grumble about the increased traffic on the normally barren streets.A familiar prickle flitted up his neck.It had never failed to warn him of danger.More curious than concerned, Maynor slipped on his black leather riding vest with Leathernecks U.S.M.C and an eagle, globe and anchor emblazened in Marine Corps red and yellow on the back, pocketed his Colt 1911 and slipped the sheathed Kabar into the back of his waistband.A minute later, his motorcycle rumbled to life, and Maynor headed toward the mayhem.+++Cal was lucky to have been on the opposite side of the stage.Still, he was thrown back by the force of the explosion.Ears ringing, heart pounding, the Marine moved toward the chaos.Blood and body parts littered the stage.He’d seen it before, but the absolute devastation of human life sickened him.However, unlike most people, it angered him to action.He pushed past three of the four Hollywood heavyweights who stood with gore-splattered faces, staring down at their companion, the soul singer, whose head sat split in half by a piece of debris.Cal jumped off the stage nearly slipping on what looked like a woman’s bloody stump of a hand.The epicenter of the blast was clear.Screaming and moaning concert-goers crawled in no general direction.Cal was joined by two Secret Service agents, who were similarly deafened by the blast.“Is the first lady safe?” Cal bellowed.Both of the agents nodded like robots, their normally stoic faces wide-eyed.It had happened on their watch, again.Cal could read the implications in their look.“Where is she?” Cal asked.One of the suited agents pointed over his shoulder.“They took her away in the helo.”Good, thought Cal.One less thing to worry about.“Hey!” Cal had to yell again to get their attention.Their heads snapped around.“Start triaging the wounded, I’ll…” Just then he felt a buzzing in his pocket.He pulled out his cell phone.It was Daniel.“Yeah?” he answered.He couldn’t hear a damn thing, so instead he said, “Text it to me, Briggs.My ears are shit right now.”Turning back to the agents, Cal moved to help a woman who’d lost both arms and was silently screaming in pain.“Dammit,” mumbled Cal.+++Daniel couldn’t text.He was on the heels of the guy he’d followed from the arena, and who had jammed into a sprint after the explosion.At least Cal was safe.He trusted his boss and instead focused on running faster.The guy had a good lead.Daniel, as was his fashion, said a silent prayer that his abilities not fail.Suddenly, out of the corner of his peripheral vision, Daniel’s prayer was answered.A motorcycle roared around the corner and a smile spread across Daniel’s face at the sight of the Marine emblem on the rider’s jacket.“Marine!” he yelled at the rider, who quickly caught up to Daniel.“Need a ride?” said the rider, as he pulled up alongside the sprinting sniper.Daniel nodded and jumped onto the back of the Harley, shaking his head.Send in the Marines, he thought, saying thanks to the Almighty once again.+++Steve Stricklin saw Cal’s friend sneak out of the concert.On a hunch, he followed at a safe distance.Minutes later, the explosion had rocked the surrounding area.Stricklin looked back, contemplating going to help, but thought better of it.He didn’t want anything to do with another attack.Too much mess.Too much paperwork.Stricklin didn’t have the strongest stomach.He’d once wretched at the sight of two decapitated Iraqi soldiers after a particularly brutal battle.No.Maybe Cal’s buddy knew something.Maybe he, Special Agent Steve Stricklin, could intercept the culprit.Visions of glory followed him as he commandeered a vehicle to shadow the two men on the motorcycle.+++Daniel and the motorcycle driver caught up to the running man quickly.As if it was something he’d practiced before, the biker extracted his pistol, revved up next to the runner, and delivered a vicious blow to the man’s neck.The momentum of the swing and the motorcycle sent the man sprawling.Daniel hopped off and drew his own weapon, taking a bead on the man struggling to rise.“Stay down!” ordered Daniel.“You need help, kid?” asked the Harley rider, who was even now stepping up next to Daniel, his weapon also aimed at the struggling suspect.“Yeah.Thanks for the help.Marine?”“Former Lance Corporal Don Maynor at your service.”Daniel didn’t have time to respond because another voice sounded from behind them.“Drop your weapons and get on the ground!”+++Stricklin couldn’t believe his luck.Not only had he caught up to the Cal’s pal, he’d also caught the man and his new companion unaware.“I said, drop your weapons and get on the ground!” he yelled, a bit louder.“I can’t do that, sir,” said Daniel.“This man is a suspect in the attack.”Stricklin inched closer, wary of the two men with pistols extended.He noticed the Marine logo on the motorcycle rider’s back and scowled.It looked to him like a bit of a redneck gathering [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]