An ear-piercing scream was heard to their left and Ali snatched the radio from his belt. “What is happening?”
A nervous voice came back over the radio. “There are traps. Everywhere, traps!”
Ali growled, his grip on the radio tightening. “Be aware!” He cursed as he handed the radio to his other man and stepped up his pace.
“Ali, should we perhaps go slower?” his compatriot asked.
Ali bin-Hamza turned and glared at him. “We no longer have the element of surprise. If he is here, he surely knows that we are coming.” He glanced off toward the sound of the screams. “As inept as we are, we are coming.”
He rounded the bend in the drive and saw the mound of dirt that covered Bridger’s home. He slowed and motioned to the remaining soldier with him. “The rear. Look for the others.”
He slowly approached the front of the steel quonset hut and aimed his weapon at the glass surrounding either side of the door. He hugged the edge of the fascia and glanced through the dust covered glass.
Staggering footsteps stole his attention and he turned to see two of his men approaching from the brush. One was limping badly, blood pouring from a wound above his ankle.
“There was a steel trap. It nearly severed his foot.”
Ali ground his teeth and felt his blood pressure rise. “Take him to the truck.”
He spun and kicked at the solid oak door. Dirt fell from the top of the door jamb, but the door remained firm. He backed up and kicked again, aiming his foot as near the knob as he could.
The door refused to budge.
The babyfaced man stepped closer. “Shall I try—”
“Stay back!” Ali fired at the doorknob twice then kicked again.
The babyfaced man reached out and took the remains of the knob in his hand and twisted it. The door pushed open and he stepped back to allow Ali entrance.
Ali bin-Hamza glared at him as he kicked the door the rest of the way open. He stood in the entrance, his weapon pointed into the interior of Bridger’s home. He stepped inside as another of his foot soldiers appeared. “We lost a man. An improvised explosive…”
Ali groaned and waved the man through. Together they went room to room, checking for any signs of life.
The babyfaced man stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He quickly turned away and shook his head. “He has not been here in some time.”
“How can you know?” Ali barked, frustration shaking him to the core.
“There is dust everywhere.” When Ali glared at him again he pointed to the refrigerator. “And everything inside there is spoiled.”
Ali jerked the door open then quickly shut it. “We go! He’s not here.”
The babyfaced man fell into step behind him. “Where shall we try next?”
“His friends are not far from here. We shall visit this Baba Yaga. We will find Muhammed al-Abadi.”
30
Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX
BRIDGER LET OUT a low whistle as they stopped at the entrance of Deric’s getaway camp. “I think I’m moving in.”
“I’ll charge you rent,” Deric laughed as he hopped from the other side of the Hummer. “Pull them around the back and lock them up. We don’t want to make it any more obvious than we have to that we’re here.”
Jim pulled the Hummer to the rear of the military style bunker and Deric waved Bridger forward. “Come on. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“How the hell did you afford to build all of this?”
Gregg fell into step behind the pair, his computer boxes bouncing off his thigh as he followed them. “Being a merc has its perks.” His eyes widened. “I’m a poet and didn’t know it!”
Deric groaned as he pulled the heavy steel door open. “He’s right. Being a contractor pays well.”
Bobby took in every aspect of the place as they went through the first bunker. “Solar powered?”
Deric nodded. “With wind generator back up.” He waved him to the rear of the bunker. “We even have underground tunnels that connect the three bunkers.”
Bobby grinned as he pulled the door open and stared at the concrete steps leading below grade. “What about drainage?”
“Drain tiles surround the entire structure and we sprayed asphaltic rubber and expanding foam over the concrete before back filling.”
Bridger frowned and nodded approvingly then stepped back. “Dude, I’m in love.”
“Brother, I almost went off the deep end a few years back.” Deric leaned against the counter separating the kitchen from the work space. “I was certain that we were headed for Armageddon.”
Bridger nodded. “I’m with ya.” He turned a slow circle and stared in wonder at the upgraded military style bunker. “Show me the rest.”
Deric led him through the short tunnel to the next bunker. “This one is really just storage. It was supposed to be a bunk room but everybody kept passing out in the main room of the first bunker so I never completed it.” He pointed to the door on the opposite side. “That one leads to the garage and workshop.”
Bridger shook his head. “I want to live here.”
Deric grunted. “God knows there are enough MREs and freeze dried food stuffed in the attic spaces to feed you for the next few decades.”
Bridger’s smile widened. “I can live with that.”
“Well water with a hand pump backup in case of EMP.” He shrugged. “It’s a prepper’s wet dream.”
“I’ll say.” Bridger spun a slow circle, his eyes taking it all in. “What about defenses?”
Deric smiled and waved him on. “In the workshop.” He led the way through the final tunnel and Bridger stepped out into a fully equipped machine shop. “This is where we convert semi-autos to full auto. Over there is where we reload shells. Everything from nine millimeter to howitzer rounds.”
“You have a howitzer?”
Deric shook his head. “Not anymore.” He glanced back toward the tunnel. “Somebody left it in Nicaragua.”
“I heard that,” Jay
