Ian rose to his hands and knees, choked violently, and coughed up a large glob of blood.
“Jesus!” the second guard exclaimed. “What should we do?”
“Get him some medical help, dumbass,” Greg said.
McKay dramatically collapsed back to the floor; his chest wasn’t moving. The two guards stared for a few seconds, then one of them leaned down to get a closer look.
“Shit, man, I think he’s dead,” he said to his partner. “Let’s get him outta here.”
As they lifted the limp and unresponsive McKay, they struggled to stand. Just as they got him to a standing position, he slipped awkwardly. The two guards struggled to keep their balance, and that’s when McKay struck. In less than five seconds, both guards were immobilized.
“Jesus!” Greg exclaimed. “How did you do that?”
“It’s actually quite simple,” McKay responded. “I’ll teach you someday. But we need to get out of here. They’ll only be like that for a couple of minutes.”
Ian quickly searched the guards’ pockets, looking for anything useful. When he pulled out a set of car keys for a Chevy Suburban, he turned to Greg and said, “These should come in handy.”
The two men walked down the long basement hall, searching for the stairs that would lead them to the garage. As they approached the stairs, they heard two men enter the house, deep in conversation. Ian and Greg froze, and the voices began to fade as the unseen men went toward the kitchen of the Hawkins mansion.
Greg and Ian quietly ascended to the large mudroom just inside the garage. They listened to make sure no one was on the other side of the door. When they were sure it was clear, they quietly slipped into the spacious four-car garage. Only two vehicles were inside. Ian studied the keys and quickly determined which “Texas Cadillac” belonged to them. He tossed the keys to Greg and gestured with his head toward the one on the left as he opened the driver’s door of the other vehicle and popped the hood. Ian reached in toward the engine, grabbed a handful of wires, and ripped them from the vehicle. He quickly jumped in on the passenger side of the black Suburban, looked at Greg, and reached for the garage door remote.
As the garage door opened slowly, a startled Hawkins bodyguard inside the house ran to see what was going on. When he opened the door to the garage, he saw Ian and Greg sitting in the Suburban with the engine running. He quickly reached for the garage door button on the wall and reversed the progress of the door. Greg realized what was happening, slammed the truck into reverse, and crashed through the descending panel door.
Greg and Ian were out and racing down the small, winding Vail Village road. They were almost to the first intersection when a man and woman darted out from behind a cluster of pine trees and waved wildly for the vehicle to stop. Greg’s inclination was to continue driving until he realized that the man flailing his arms by the side of the road was someone he’d come to recognize in the newspaper headlines.
Greg slammed on the brakes, and Jack McCarthy and Kate Anson jumped into the vehicle. Greg wasn’t sure what made him decide to blindly pick up these fugitives, but it had been a very strange forty-eight hours. Once the vehicle was rolling again, the four hurriedly compared notes. They quickly realized that their best chance for survival was to reach the relative anonymity of Denver.
The race was on.
T
he stolen Suburban was barely on I-70 heading east to Denver when Greg Larson exclaimed, “Run that by me again? You went to the president of the United States to warn him of Hawkins’s psychotic plan, only to find out his daddy owns the presidency as well? This cannot be fucking happening!”
“It is,” Jack said. “And we’re the only ones who can stop that arrogant prick from waltzing straight into the White House.”
“Agree,” Ian said, “but let’s make sure we know exactly what we’re doing when we get to Denver. Any mistake could be our last.”
They began discussing their options for contacting authorities, while at all times protecting the evidence: themselves.
“Oh, shit,” Greg said, his eyes flickering from the road ahead to the rearview mirror. “There’s a car in the left lane, closing fast.”
As the speeding SUV began to pass the stolen Suburban, the four gave a collective sigh of relief. But just then, the Ford Expedition swerved to the right and clipped the left front fender of the Suburban, forcing it to lurch to the right, off the steep embankment of Vail Pass. Greg was able to keep the large truck from rolling, but in order to do that, he had the vehicle hurtling down the steep incline, nose first. All four
occupants were screaming, not even knowing they were doing it. Much to their surprise, the truck neither rolled nor slammed into the rapidly approaching trees but instead rolled to a graceful stop in the drainage swale at the edge of the large forest.
The moment the vehicle came to rest, Ian McKay screamed, “Everyone out! We’ve got to get to the forest before those guys get down the embankment!”
All four fugitives jumped from the SUV. Kate screamed, “Shit! Something cut my leg.”
Ian leaned down to get a closer look and saw a lot of blood. Worse yet, some sort of metal object was stuck in Kate’s leg. While Ian was inspecting more closely, a strange pop could be heard from up the hill, and within a second, the night sky was illuminated by a phosphorescent flare. The group was completely exposed on the valley floor, and shots rang out almost immediately.
They all scrambled behind the black Suburban and waited. When the flare faded, Ian again took charge and ordered the group to sprint toward the refuge of the large forest. As they sprinted the twenty-some-odd yards toward safety, another flare lit up the sky. As the group watched their pursuers scanning the valley floor from above, they realized they had not seen them make it into the forest.
As Ian tended to Kate’s wound, Jack asked, “What now?”
“Ms. Anson will not be able to make it far. Her wound is very serious, and she’s lost a good amount of blood. You two should leave now. I’ll wait with her and take care of our friends when they come down for a closer look.”
“I’m not leaving!” Jack said. “Kate and I have been through too much to not finish this thing together.”
“Jack, don’t be an ass,” Kate said sternly. “This is no time to be gallant. We have to nail these bastards, and if splitting up increases our odds, then let’s get on with it.”
Jack stared at her a moment, then nodded without saying another word and pushed deeper into the forest with Greg Larson right behind him.
The two men who had run the Suburban off I-70 were cautiously making their way down the steep embankment. Each man was angling away from the other in an effort to cover more ground. As they continued their descent, Ian watched closely from the edge of the woods, obscured by some thick brush. Not only was he intently making sure he didn’t lose sight of either man, but he was also scanning his immediate surroundings, trying to formulate a plan.
Ian had hidden Kate nearby in a small creek bed, covering her with small tree limbs and brush. The two pursuers were nearly at the bottom of the hill when Ian made his decision. As the pursuers continued to put distance between themselves, Ian would move to his left and patiently wait behind a small rock outcropping. When the first pursuer got close enough, he would immobilize him and take his automatic weapon. What was paramount in this process was to ensure the entire search took long enough for Jack and Greg to get a major head start, in case he was unsuccessful in his attempt to eliminate the guards. At the same time, Ian also felt compelled to stay close to Kate in case she was discovered.
After moments of quiet tension, the man who had circled to Ian’s left was getting increasingly close to the rock sanctuary. Ian slowly reached for a stone. When the stalker was less than twenty feet away, Ian threw the golf-ball-sized rock over his left shoulder. The man stopped, assessed where he thought the noise had come from, and picked up the pace toward his prey.
As the man passed the outcropping of rocks, Ian thought to himself that it almost seemed too easy. He quickly stuck his left foot out just as the man was passing. In one swift move, he grabbed the barrel of the gun with his left hand while wrapping his right arm around the neck of his pursuer. As the man fell toward the ground, his own inertia, coupled with precision positioning of Ian’s right arm, broke his neck instantly. Ian caught the dead man and lowered him to the ground silently. But when the full weight of the dead man came to rest, a small rock pushed into the communication device that was placed on his belt, sending a loud series of beeps off into the quiet of the forest.
The second man stopped in his tracks and called out for his partner. Nothing but silence answered. The suspicion accompanying the silence caused the man to back off slightly and stare directly toward Ian’s safe haven.
Ian was stuck. Any movement could cause the second pursuer to fire in his direction, knowing that he hadn’t heard from his partner. Then, as luck would have it, a small animal moved off to the second man’s left, diverting his attention for a few seconds. The diversion allowed Ian to quickly distance himself from the corpse.
It was again time to wait. Ian was well positioned behind a huge lodgepole pine, waiting for President Hughes’s henchman to come his way. After what seemed like an eternity, the man was nearly there. Once he passed, Ian lunged toward him and delivered a heavy blow to the side of his neck. The man staggered as if he were going to fall but then turned, smiling, his weapon aimed directly at Ian’s midsection.
Ian was stunned. The man said, “Not turning out the way you planned? Now I need you to lead me …” But before he could finish, he dropped to his knees and collapsed, blood running down below his ear. Much to Ian’s surprise, directly in front of him was Kate, holding a large rock and weakly smiling. Then she, too, fell to the ground in a bundle.
J
ack and Greg had been hiking for hours. While the pitch had never been too steep, it had been a consistent uphill climb, and both men were exhausted. The faint light in the sky told them that dawn was approaching, and though the fall night air was quiet and cool, the strenuous climb had both men perspiring. “Thank God we found that logging road,” Jack panted. “We would have been hopelessly lost if we’d had to hike through the forest the entire way.”
Both men were breathing hard when Greg stopped in his tracks to listen. A faint sound was whispering through the predawn air. As the noise grew louder, both men looked at each other, realizing there was some sort of vehicle approaching. It didn’t sound like a car, but it was clearly mechanical. As the sound grew louder, the two men scurried off the logging road, not sure what they would encounter. Then over the rise came a man riding a large all-terrain vehicle. He was clearly alone. Both men rose to their feet and walked to the center of the road to flag down the rider.
Surprised by the presence of two men clearly not prepared to spend the night out in the Colorado mountains, the rider came to an abrupt halt. As he removed his helmet, he asked, “What the hell are you guys doing out here?”
Jack and Greg exchanged glances and realized they hadn’t actually thought about what their answer to a question like that might be.
“Well,” Jack stammered, “our car was run off the road last night, and rather than climb back up the steep pitch to the highway, we thought we could find an easier way back to the road. Then we found this logging road and … well, we’re fucking hopelessly lost. What are you doing out here?”
The man smiled and answered, “I work for a snowmobile touring operation, and I’m headed up to our base camp to begin preparing it for winter.” The men stood there not knowing what to say next when the rider said, “You guys could probably use something to eat and drink.”
Jack and Greg immediately perked up, not realizing just how depleted they were. The rider took out two bottles of water and a couple of energy bars, and the two men quickly downed the food and water without saying another word. When they were finished, the rider told the two men to get in the small bed of the Ranger ATV so he could take them to the top of Vail Pass where they could call the authorities.
At the mention of calling the police, Jack and Greg exchanged glances. As the rider turned the vehicle around, the two men’s minds raced. Over the next ten minutes, as the ATV bumped along the rutted, washed-out dirt road, each man contemplated individually how to ditch this good Samaritan gracefully and continue their trek to Denver.
The Rocky Mountain sky was lightening by the minute as the bumpy ride back to civilization continued. Then without any warning to Greg, Jack tapped the rider on the shoulder and yelled, “Do you mind if we stop for a second so I can take a leak?” The rider obliged without thinking twice. When Jack was done, he returned to the vehicle and stated, “I know this is going to seem odd, but we are not in a position to contact the authorities at this time, and we’re going to need to borrow your vehicle for a while.”
“The fuck you are,” the rider responded and quickly reached for the ignition.
Jack grabbed the man’s arm. “Look, this is not what it seems, and we have no desire to hurt you, but we’re desperate men. We have to get to Denver immediately, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at
the wrong time. Now, please get off the vehicle, and we’ll make this as painless as possible.”
The rider did as he was told, but once off the vehicle he lunged for Jack, hoping to catch him by surprise. The response was quick and effective.
Greg looked stunned.
“I told you I was a black belt, didn’t I?” Jack said with a smile. “He’ll be fine, other than a pretty wicked headache when he wakes up.”
Then Jack reached down, found the keys to a Ford F-150 in the man’s front pocket, and said, “Let’s get him in the back of the ATV and find that truck so we can get to Denver.”
A few minutes later, the men were pulling into the rest stop at the top of Vail Pass with the orange dawn sky greeting them. There were only two vehicles in the parking lot: a Ford F-150 and another pickup truck with a camper shell on the back. Jack pulled the four-wheeler right up to the back of the camper and jumped out. He knocked quietly on the rear door and waited. When no one responded, Jack looked all over the parking lot to ensure that no one was watching. Then, more easily than Greg thought possible, he broke the small window above the doorknob, reached in, and unlocked the door. The two men quickly loaded the unconscious rider in the back of the camper, ditched the ATV in a nearby ravine, and hopped into the Ford pickup.