Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to explain. I’d like your help but I’ll continue alone if we can’t agree.”
“I’d do what he asks, Lieutenant,” Sarah chimed in. “I’ve seen him like this before and there’s no changing his mind. We owe Jarrod everything. With Angel’s help, Sela and I can take care of Jer. Now, both of you get going… please,” she insisted.
“Judas priest,” Morris said, throwing his hands in the air, totally exasperated.
From the clenched jaw and steely look, Morris could tell Ryan Marshall’s unwavering tenacity was far beyond anything he could reason with. The man wouldn’t be merely cajoled into giving up this foolish quest. In all his years of law enforcement he’d never encountered a more stubborn family. He couldn’t believe he was actually giving in to their demands. But everything he’d gone through in the past few days with these folks told him there was no use arguing. The only way to even marginally control Marshall’s actions was to accompany him. God Almighty…I’m going to have some explaining to do.
Morris inhaled slowly and then sighed. “All right…you win, Marshall. But we’ll do it my way. Understand? Jesus…I can’t believe I’m giving in to this.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant. You won’t regret this.”
“I already do,” he said, dismayed.
“Sarah, Sela, take care of Jer,” Ryan said, turning his attention to his family. “Son, I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life. You have the courage of a lion…it’s beyond anything I could ever imagine. I’ll see you soon, okay? And, Angel, your name perfectly suits you. You’ve been my family’s salvation.”
“You’re much too kind, Mr. Marshall, but dare I say…times a-wastin’,” Angel replied. Her hands were on her hips and she spoke with authority. “Well, don’t just stand there yammering…go find our guys. Emerson and Jason need your help. You boys be careful now,” she said earnestly.
Ryan hugged Sela and moved to Sarah. They embraced tightly and Sarah whispered, “Don’t you leave me now, mister. I’m counting on you to see the rest of this through without me.”
“Just take care of our son, sweetheart. I’ll be back with Jarrod by sunrise. I love you, Sarah,” he said, and lightly kissed her lips, stroking her back lightly.
“I love you too, Ryan.”
“Let’s get going. They’ve got about a thirty-minute head start,” Morris stated, and the two men disappeared into the night to rescue Jarrod Conrad.
AUGUST EIGHTH
SIXTY-FIVE
Fort Knox
Midnight
Colt Hamil’s drive from Wildcat Farm to the Brandenburg Gate at Fort Knox proved to be uneventful, as he had anticipated. Struffeneger and Starkovich had followed Colt from a safe distance, stopping several miles out to await deployment of the gravity machine before entering the premises. The op so far was according to plan.
It was just past midnight when Colt eased the Peterbilt up to the main gate, an imposing cantilever steel structure controlled by two military policemen within a sturdy guardhouse adjacent to the gate. The compact hut contained a glut of video surveillance directly linked to the base command center. No one could pass on to the base without proper identification; only then would the electronic lock keeping the gate in place be deactivated. As Colt came to a stop, a lanky MP carrying a clipboard emerged from the guardhouse to assess the situation.
“Good morning, sir,” the MP said, recognizing Colt’s master sergeant rank. “Can I see your manifest, sir? It’s an odd time for a delivery, isn’t it?” he questioned, glancing at the fully covered transport.
Rafie took charge, using his rank to limit the MP’s questioning. “Corporal, we’ve got a classified transport here. We’ve traveled nonstop since leaving San Francisco yesterday. Our orders are to deliver this shipment post- haste without interruption or delay. The time of our arrival is irrelevant.”
The MP shined his light through the cab of the Peterbilt and saw he was being addressed by an officer. Holy shit, a major’s in the truck? What the hell! “ My apology, sir,” he said, snapping his arm to a crisp salute while coming to attention.
Perfectly played, Rafie thought. The MP is off-balance. “At ease, Corporal. As I’m sure you’ll discover from the manifest, General Hershey is expecting this delivery. We’re hauling top-secret equipment; certainly you understand the importance of getting us through without further delay.”
“Yes, sir, just let me check the manifest against the log and…”
Rafie cut him off again. “Maybe you didn’t hear me clearly, Corporal. The manifest is self-evident. There will be nothing on the log about this delivery. Again, this is classified…not something that will make the log. Now if we’re delayed further, I’ll be forced to wake General Hershey. Do you really want that?” he asked, pausing to let the question sink in. “Think it through, Corporal.”
The other MP was growing curious and had come out of the guard shack when he recognized his partner was addressing an officer. He began slowly walking to the rear of the semi. Colt wasn’t expecting to leave the truck, but if they didn’t get through the gate soon, more invasive action would be necessary.
“It’s okay, Charlie,” the first MP yelled to his partner. “Open the gate. This load’s cleared…issue a pass.”
“Good decision, Corporal,” Rafie said. “When I report to General Hershey, I’ll mention that your performance was textbook. I also appreciate your thoroughness.”
“Can you tell us what you’re hauling, sir?” the MP asked inquisitively.
“You know better than that, Corporal…even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. As I said, it’s classified-most likely something to further safeguard the depository. But for your sake, I advise you not to mention it.”
The MP handed the manifest back to Colt and the Brandenburg Gate slowly opened. He steered the truck carefully through and steadily accelerated. Their next and final stop was the Fort Knox depository.
Kilmer and his men had remained deathly still throughout the delay at the gate. Everyone’s apprehension was peaking, but no one made a sound, including Jarrod. Kilmer pressed his gun to Conrad’s temple and was pleased the normally contrary professor kept still throughout the gate inspection. When the truck started moving again, everyone breathed a little easier.
As Colt drove, he could see the unmistakable sign of the depository ahead in the distance. There was nothing obstructing the massive ivory-colored granite edifice, which was fully illuminated to enhance surveillance. Decades ago the thick stand of maple trees surrounding the edifice had been removed in favor of an unobstructed view surrounding the compound. At night the two-story perfectly square building stood out against the night sky like a giant Akoya pearl on black velvet. As he drew nearer the depository, he could see the four corner-post guard towers that marked the outer perimeter of the compound. In the seventy-five years since the depository had been constructed, there had never been an attempt to steal its treasures. That unbroken record would change in the next thirty minutes-the mundane guardianship of $100 billion worth of gold bullion would never again be the same.
Colt pulled the Peterbilt next to an electrical pole about 300 yards from the depository. This distance was predicted to be the minimum necessary to safely avoid detection from the security cameras. He locked the air brakes and shut down the diesel engine, which signaled the men in back to activate.
Wasting no time waiting for Colt and Rafie to release them, Ventura used his Ghost Ryder Buck knife to cut through the tarp. He was already wearing pole-climbing spurs and hurried to the electrical pole to begin connecting the power. As he did so, Kilmer finished cutting the opening and everyone scrambled out. Sully was first to hit the ground and worked in earnest with Colt to pull the heavy plastic tarp off the load. In only minutes, the antigravity machine was completely uncovered and Sully was hauling the electrical cable from the device to Ventura. Every move was precise as clockwork.
Rafie assisted Jarrod Conrad, whose hands were still bound, off the trailer. “Good oh, Professor…make tracks,” Kilmer said, shoving Jarrod roughly toward the fold-out ladder on the back of the trailer. “It’s on yer head if ya see yer rellies again. No bullshit…use yer loaf and ya just might save yer bum.”
Turning, he called, “Mills! Blimey, what’s the holdup? Git yer arse in gear.” Mills was carrying Conrad’s all-
