shifted their attention to the other side. Alena would remain on the ground. Once Gerrit attacked the targets on the roof, she’d hurl a flash bang through the windows. They planned a simultaneous attack on the two remaining guards below-he from the top and she through the first-floor windows.
So far, so good. They hadn’t yet encountered any hostile fire.
Stafford continued his mock gunfight, remotely firing several weapons, making it appear as if more than one shooter was firing from his position. He tossed in a few hand grenades for good measure.
Gerrit heard weapons firing from the roof. They must be trying to locate and eliminate Stafford’s weapons.
As Gerrit neared the roof’s edge, suddenly Stafford’s cover fire ceased. Something was wrong. The bad guys on the roof fired several sporadic volleys, but even they ceased firing. As he neared the roofline, he heard footsteps coming in his direction. A small ledge, about the size to allow a foothold, ran parallel to the roofline and just a few feet below.
Gerrit caught the toe of his boot on the ledge and pulled himself closer to the cold stone facade. The footsteps came closer, a couple yards to his left. With one hand clinging to the rope and standing by one toehold, he grabbed his holstered semi-automatic pistol with his right hand and pointed it toward the roofline.
He miscalculated. If the suspect peered over the edge, Gerrit couldn’t get a clean shot. The roofline extended out for several feet from the wall, leaving him under the overhang and at a disadvantage. The gunman could lean over, see Alena below and fire as Gerrit watched helplessly. If the gunman saw the rope, he could lean over and fire blindly-with a great chance of hitting him-or just cut the rope and let Gerrit fall. Either way, Gerrit would not be able to return effective fire.
He froze as the footsteps drew near.
Holding his breath, he strained to listen as the man stopped at the ledge. In the dark, the man might not be able to the see the grappling hook, but if he got any closer, he might stumble over it.
Gripping the weapon, he felt himself slipping on the rope. The exertion of the climb and the gunman only a few feet away made him sweat like a basketball player after a full-court press under a hot sun. Cold night air on his face did little to cool him down. Perspiration on his rope hand caused him to lose more of his grip. He clamped his hand on the rope tighter, trying to stave off a fall.
The gunman’s head leaned over the side. The man’s broad face, with close-cropped dark hair, seemed close enough for Gerrit to reach. He raised the pistol and pointed it at the man.
Suddenly, gunfire erupted on the far side of the building. Stafford. The gunman above him disappeared. Gerrit assumed he was moving back into position to cover his partner. Gerrit reholstered and swung out from the wall, quickly climbing up to the ledge and pulling himself up to peer above the flat roofline.
Both gunmen were on the far side of the roof, firing wildly in Stafford’s direction.
Gerrit swung up his right leg and caught it on the edge, pulling himself up and over. He quickly unslung his rifle and brought it up to the ready. He walked toward them keeping the targets in his line of fire.
One of the men glanced back and Gerrit hit him with a short burst. The second gunman heard Gerrit’s gunfire and swung his rifle around.
“Freeze,” Gerrit said. “Freeze or you’re dead.”
The gunman let his weapon fall and slowly raised his hands in the air.
Gerrit keyed his mike. “One down and one in custody.”
Alena’s whisper came over the radio. “Let me know when you want me to make entry.”
“Give me a second-” He saw the gunman suddenly make a move. Weapons. Gerrit’s trigger finger reacted immediately. The gunman’s body fell backward and then over the side of the building.
“Gerrit, what’s happening up there?” Alena whispered into the radio.
He started to respond. “I shot-”
Gunfire erupted below. Coming from inside the building. They were shooting at Alena. He swore to himself, lunging for the stairway that led downstairs. He flung the door open and darted inside, rifle at the ready. He needed to get downstairs and neutralize the threat against Alena. He didn’t hear her firing back.
“Gerrit, I’m moving in for support.” Stafford’s transmission broke Gerrit’s concentration for a moment. He dared not respond from his position for fear of giving his location away. He keyed the mike twice and continued down the steps.
Nothing from Alena. No transmission. No returning fire. As he edged downward, panic began to set in. In all the combat he’d been through, never had he felt this before. It almost made him freeze up.
A noise below him forced him to snap back and start moving. One of the gunmen must be moving just below him.
Still no sound from Alena, he moved forward, fearing the worst.
Chapter 55
Seattle, Washington
A brisk ocean breeze made Richard pull his coat tighter as he stood on the deck of the cabin cruiser. The boat churned through the water toward the peninsula west of Port Angeles. The vessel rose and fell beneath him, his feet balanced as the deck pitched with each wave. The last vestiges of the Seattle shoreline disappeared a while back as they plowed ahead for the Strait of Juan De Fuca.
He moved back inside the cabin, feeling warm air circulating. Rubbing his hands together, Richard peered into the sun, almost hidden by the Olympic Mountains beyond. There were quicker routes to the lab atop Angeles Point, but he wanted to protect their destination at any cost.
Gerrit and his people somehow stumbled on the Albuquerque site. This time, Richard intended to keep this lab here in Washington a secret-at least until they launched Project Megiddo. After that, it would no longer matter.
He eyed his cell phone, waiting for confirmation from his people in Harrogate. Grimacing, he hoped the contingent of security he left behind would be enough to wipe out Gerrit and the others.
As soon as Collette finished in England, she had orders to hightail it to the lab here. He wanted all hands on deck in case something went awry and they needed to protect this lab. If all went as planned in England, Gerrit and his crew would not be in any shape to cause him any more problems. It was Collette’s final chance to prove herself after the debacle in New Mexico.
That left only Joe O’Rourke. Once confirmation came in that the others were dead, Richard intended to give the order to kill that obstinate scientist after dragging out every last ounce of intelligence the man held inside. It infuriated him to no end that he had failed to make O’Rourke cave in. They threw everything they had at the man and came up empty. Here, they would take their time. Joe would not be able to resist forever.
He must ferret out Joe’s federal contacts. They must be hunted down and terminated.
Richard stared across the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Just a short hop across the strait, and he could be on foreign soil if unwanted visitors showed up here. British Columbia would be a good jumping-off place to return to some of his European haunts; countries where his large cache of money greased the palms of those who could offer protection from meddling law enforcement.
Money makes the world go around. And once this project was underway, money would give him and Stuart’s people all the juice they needed to reach their goals.
For a moment, he closed his eyes and thought about the exhilarating use of power that would finally be in his grasp. Power to force armies to stand down, dictators to bend a knee to Richard’s will. No more political bickering between countries. A one-world government with enough power to bring peace to every square inch of this planet. No more wars, unless they decided to start one. No more poverty. No more wealthy class taking their undue share-except for those like himself wielding absolute power.
No more pettiness. Richard’s people would be able to fairly distribute the earth’s resources to benefit all of mankind, not just a few wealthy countries like the United States. It would be a bitter pill for those so-called patriots to swallow, but they would be offered a choice-just like everyone else-either accept this new world order or face extinction.
Disease. Hunger. War. Crime. All the plagues of mankind finally conquered by a unified and centralized power
