Evil Deeds (Bob Danforth 1) (51 page)

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Authors: Joseph Badal

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Spy Stories & Tales of Intrigue, #Espionage

BOOK: Evil Deeds (Bob Danforth 1)
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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Captain Sokic and his men buried all their nonessential gear in a shallow hole and covered it with leaves and dead tree branches. Instead of the array of luggage his men had carried earlier, they now hefted only backpacks containing weapons, ammunition, water, and emergency supplies.

Sokic roused Stefan with a sharp kick in the thigh.

“Wha . . . what was that?” Stefan cried. Groaning, he sat upright. He rubbed his thigh. Then he dropped his head into his hands and shook it, as though trying to figure out where he was.

“Get up, old man. We have some distance to cover before it gets light.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re going to take us to your friend Danforth.

“Are you going to kill him?”

Sokic frowned and raised his hands, palms out. “I’m insulted. Do we look like murderers to you?”

The six men set off from the campsite at a brisk walk. When Stefan couldn’t keep up, he was carried piggyback-style by one of the soldiers.

Hungover and exhausted, Stefan fell into a half-sleep, despite the jarring ride. Suddenly, however, he was shocked awake by being dropped like a sack of grain. The lights of the refugee camp were just ahead.

“Where’s the 82nd Airborne’s encampment?” Sokic demanded.

Stefan pointed to the left of the refugee camp. “You see the lights shining there? The two camps adjoin one another. But there is no way you’ll get past the guards and into the Army camp.”

“Radko, we have no intention of entering the Americans’ camp. You’re going to bring Danforth to us.”

“How?”

“Easy,” Sokic said, faking a tolerant smile. “You’ll give the sentries a message for Danforth. That you want to see him. That it’s an emergency.”

“And why do you believe he’ll come out to see me?” Stefan asked.

Sokic snorted. “Remember,” he said, “he wants to impress his girlfriend’s father. I think he’ll come running.”

Stefan nodded. “Then what?”

Sokic patted Stefan on the shoulder. “You need not worry about a thing, my friend. We’ll take care of the rest.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Halt!” a voice shouted.

“Don’t shoot,” Radko called out.

“Hands above your head!”

Radko complied while he walked forward. He stopped again within a few feet of the gate. The American soldier at the gate held a rifle leveled at Radko’s chest. Another soldier frisked him.

“He’s clean; no weapons,” the soldier said after patting him down. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to talk with one of your officers,” Radko said, lowering his arms.

“What’s so important at this hour?” the soldier demanded.

“It is an emergency,” Stefan said. “I must talk to Captain Danforth.”

“That’s the ‘Charlie’ Company Commander,” the soldier who had frisked Stefan said to the other one, who lowered the barrel of his rifle.

The second guard said, “No way I’m bothering an officer at this time of night because some bullshit old fart claims he’s got an emergency.”

Radko shrugged. “I’ve got information about Serb guerrillas in the area. I’m sure Captain Danforth will be pleased to hear that you did not think my information was important.”

The two guys eyed one another and then one said, “Send someone over to Captain Danforth’s tent.” Then he took Radko’s arm and led him to a bench under a wooden canopy, just outside the gate. “Wait here,” he told him.

Michael jerked awake as he snatched his .45 from under his pillow. The soldier who had shaken him by the shoulder jumped back three feet and hit his head on a dangling lantern.

“Jesus,” the young man gasped, “don’t shoot, sir. I called from outside your tent, but you didn’t respond.”

“Step outside,” Michael said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Jack, still asleep on the other cot.

“Ruiz, sir, Delta Company, 2nd Battalion,” the soldier said once they were outside, never taking his eyes off Michael’s pistol. “I’m on guard duty. Got a message for you. Some old guy just came to the front gate and said he had to talk to you. Said it was an emergency. Something about Serb guerrillas.”

Michael lowered the gun. “Don’t worry, Ruiz. I’m not going to shoot you. But next time you might want to yell a little louder.”

“Yes, sir! You scared the beejesus out of me, sir.”

“What’s this old man’s name?” Michael asked.

“Radko. Said his name was Stefan Radko.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s still at the guard shack, waiting for you to come out,” Ruiz said.

“You get back up there and make sure he doesn’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

Michael quickly dressed in his fatigues and boots, strapped on his pistol belt, and slammed his .45 into the holster.

Jack stirred when Michael moved to the tent entrance. “Something up?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s nothing,” Michael said, as he closed the flap behind him. “Everything’s okay. Mr. Radko’s out by the gate. I’m going out to meet him.”

Jack leaped from the cot and shouted, “Michael, wait!” The roar of a Jeep engine drowned his words.

“Damn!” Jack exclaimed. “Damn!” he said aloud again. He dressed quickly and began to run the two hundred yards to the front gate. But before he could get halfway there he saw, in the glare of the guardhouse security lights, an elderly man getting into Michael’s Jeep. He yelled, but Michael was revving the noisy Jeep, and now moving away.

“Mr. Radko, where have you been?” Michael was unable to disguise his irritation. “We searched all over for you.”

Stefan hung his head. “I found a dice game and wound up drinking too much. I passed out. Made it back to your gate. Could not walk another step. Guess I am getting too old to be out so late.”

“What’ about the Serb guerrillas you mentioned to the guard?” Michael asked.

“I need you to–”

“Hold it! What’s that?” Michael said. Pointing ahead. Something lay in the road ahead – half on, half off the road surface. A body! He hit the brakes, stopped a few feet short of the body, and jumped out of the Jeep. He reached inside his field jacket for his pistol, ready to pull it if necessary. He bent over to see if the person was alive.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Get the duty officer up here,” Jack snapped at the gate sentries. “I got a feeling Captain Danforth’s in trouble.”

“Sir,” one of them said, “I can’t bother the duty officer just because you got a
feeling
.” Not friendly at all.

Jack clenched his fists There was no time to waste.

His shoulders slumped in apparent defeat, Jack took several steps away from the gate. When he walked behind one of the sentries, he wrapped his arm around the man’s neck and pulled his own pistol from inside his jacket. “Drop your rifles now, or I’ll blow your pal’s head off,” he told the others.

They stared at him – wide-eyed, open-mouthed. “Boys, you got three seconds before I make mush out of this man’s brains. DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Two of the soldiers looked at the third soldier – the one with the Sergeant’s insignia. Jack noticed the steel-hard look on the Sergeant’s face and knew this one could be trouble.

He cocked the hammer on his pistol and pressed it against the temple of the soldier he held. The man grunted from the pain. “Don’t fuck around!” Jack shouted. “I’ll shoot this man and then take out the three of you before you can react.”

The guards looked at one another, looking embarrassed and uncertain about what to do. Finally, one of them lowered his weapon to the guard. The others followed suit. They all placed their hands on their helmets.

“Good boys,” Jack said. “Who’s got the keys to the HUMVEE?”

“They’re in the ignition,” one of them said. He sounded as though he couldn’t wait for this crazy man to take the vehicle and leave.

“Okay, lie down on the ground,” Jack ordered. This time they obeyed without hesitation. “You, too,” he told the man he held. “When I’m gone, call the duty officer and tell him a nice man stole your wheels and went off after Captain Michael Danforth.”

Before leaving, he tossed their weapons into the brush behind the guard shack.

 

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