The White Fox Chronicles (7 page)

Cody took the paper, looked at the numbers, then folded it and put it in his pocket. “Thank you …” He was gone and halfway to the perimeter of the compound, so he did not hear Toni say softly:

“No—I should be thanking you.”

T
he fire was hardly large enough to serve any real purpose. It had been such a long time since he’d made one that tonight he had decided to take the chance. But he was careful to stay back, well away from its light.

Cody Pierce was camped on the outskirts of the bombed-out city of Phoenix, looking for information or anything that might help him get the rest of the kids out of the prison.

It was past midnight. Cody scooped dirt onto the fire and was about to settle down to
sleep when he heard a noise. Lying as still as possible, he strained to listen. Slow, heavy footsteps on gravel were coming up behind him.

Cody had chosen this place carefully. He silently crawled down into the rain-washed gully in front of him.

A flashlight scanned the area. “Harry, you idiot. He’s gone.”

Cody’s ears perked up. These were fellow Americans. Maybe they could help him. He was about to call out to them when the second man spoke.

“It’s not my fault. He must have heard us coming and run off.”

“You better hope we find him, or at least another corpse to take this one’s place. The CCR doesn’t pay unless we deliver the bodies.”

Cody swallowed. These men were mercenaries working for the enemy. Wasting no time, he inched down the narrow ditch and climbed out the other side. There was no cover here except the darkness. If he was
lucky, he could slip away into the night unnoticed.

“That’s far enough.”

Cody froze. There was something familiar about that voice. A bright floodlight snapped on and shone in his eyes, making it impossible to see. He put his hands up.

“Well, what do you know? It’s just a kid, boss. What should we do with him?”

The familiar voice spoke softly. “Put him in the truck. I’ve got special plans for this one.”

T
he door slammed on the panel truck and it started to move. Cody groped around on the floor. He soon found he wasn’t alone. His fingers touched an arm. Hesitantly he reached for the face. It was cold and no breath came from the body’s nostrils. When he pulled his hand back it was wet and sticky with blood.

Cody wiped his palms on his pants and slid back to his side of the truck. What kind of people were these, who killed their own countrymen for profit? He felt his way to the back
door to see what sort of lock held him prisoner. There wasn’t one. There was no handle on the inside at all.

He sat on his heels, thinking. If only he had a weapon … Crawling back to the dead man, he searched the body. An empty holster was fastened to his belt. Next to the holster was a small knife scabbard. Cody unsnapped it and drew out a single-bladed hunting knife.

Quickly he removed the scabbard, resheathed the knife and slid it into the top of his right boot. He continued searching the man and came up with a wallet. It was too dark to read any of the contents but he could feel some currency in the back of the billfold. Knowing his captors would be suspicious if the wallet was missing, he took the money out, stuffed it in his other boot and put the wallet back in the man’s pocket.

The truck turned onto a paved road and began speeding in the direction of the bombed-out city. Cody crouched near the back, hoping to take them by surprise when they opened the door.

When the truck finally stopped, no one
opened the door. He could hear someone shouting and the squeaking of a gate being opened. Then they moved forward again but only for a short distance.

He heard what sounded like a dozen or more people running toward the back of the truck. There were too many to fight. Quickly he hid his knife again and was sitting complacently when the door was yanked open.

Rough hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him out of the truck. Cody tried to get a look at his surroundings. They were in some sort of compound surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. The men shoved him toward a large building that could once have been a warehouse.

He was taken through a side door and down a long hall. At the end of the hall they stopped. One of the men unlocked a brown metal door and held it open. The others shoved him in.

They pushed him so hard he fell to his knees, and by the time he was up and turned around, the door had been slammed shut and locked.

He took a deep breath and glanced around his cell. Only a little light filtered through the iron bars at the top of the cell door but it was enough for him to see that the room was empty except for a narrow cot at one end and a waste bucket near a drain in the middle of the room.

Taking the bucket, he flipped it upside down and stood on it so that he could see out of the small opening at the top of the door. They hadn’t posted a guard and there was no one in the hall.

Cody felt in his shirt pocket for the short piece of wire he always carried. He inserted it in the keyhole and wiggled it slightly until he heard a barely audible click.

The door was heavy but opened easily. Cody pushed it slowly, trying not to make any noise. When he was out he closed it and started down the hall.

There were regular doors on both sides of the long hall and a set of double doors near the end. The outside door he had first come through had a glass pane in it. Cody inched up to it and looked out. Even at this early-morning
hour there were men walking around out in the compound. It was obvious he couldn’t go out the way he’d come in.

He sighed, frustrated. There had to be a way out. He’d just have to try all the doors until he found one that would work for him.

The set of double doors he’d seen earlier was the most intriguing. It had three different types of locks. He knew he shouldn’t waste time but the door fascinated him. What was in there that was so important?

The padlock was easy for him and so was the key lock. The combination took a little more time. Cody turned the dial to the right and listened with his eyes closed. The first tumbler released. The second was just as simple. He took a deep breath and turned the knob back to the right, feeling for the last tumbler.

It fell.

Cody opened his eyes and gently pulled on the door. As he stepped inside, a voice spoke to him from the shadows.

“What took you so long, kid?”

Cody jumped sideways into a crouching
position, reached for his knife and waited for the man behind the voice to come out into the light. A figure stepped forward and Cody squinted up in shock at the familiar face. “I … I don’t believe it. Franklin? Is that you?”

The tall dark man put his hand on Cody’s shoulder. “In the flesh.” Franklin’s brown eyes twinkled as he looked back at the door. “I see you haven’t lost your touch. Musta had one fine teacher.”

“I
thought the CCR shot you. I mean, I know they did. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“They shot me, all right.” Franklin rubbed his side. “But no one cared enough to check and see if they’d done the job right. It took a while but I finally recovered and here I am.”

The smile faded from Cody’s face. He looked around the warehouse. It was a small weapons arsenal. Every kind of rifle, machine gun, bomb, grenade and missile launcher imaginable was stored there.

“What exactly are you doing, Franklin?” Cody asked suspiciously. “What are you doing working with these guys? They’re killers, hired mercenaries …”

Franklin’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Cody. Sometimes things aren’t exactly what they seem.”

A dog barked and a muscular young man fumbled with the already open locks before bursting in the door.

“Boss, the kid is gone just like you said he would be. I don’t know how, but—” The dog, a stocky red and gray Australian heeler, snarled, and the young man noticed Cody standing slightly behind the door still holding the knife. He immediately aimed his submachine gun at the boy’s head. “You want me to take him out?”

Franklin folded his arms. “Cody Pierce, meet Rico Hernandez.”

Rico ran his left hand through his thick black hair, confused but still pointing the gun.

“Rico, Cody will be staying with us awhile. I want you to show him around the place. When you’re done, bring him to my office. Cody and
I are old friends and we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, sir. Uh, sir?” Rico scratched his dimpled chin. “You want me to show him everything?”

Franklin nodded and walked toward the doors. “Cody is to be treated like one of us. I’d trust him with my life.”

“H
eel, Mike.” The dog fell in behind the young soldier. “So you know the boss, huh?” Rico slung the gun over his shoulder. It rested there naturally as if it were part of him.

Cody nodded. “I used to. It’s been a while, though.”

“He’s the best. He organized us. Probably saved most of us from being shot. Everybody here is about as loyal to him as you can get.”

Cody followed Rico and the heeler through the warehouse. None of this made any sense.
He glanced at Rico’s back. The man was young, probably not over twenty, easygoing and friendly. How could he and Franklin be involved in something like this?

Rico told the dog to sit and proudly pointed out some of the more specialized weapons. “We took these babies off a transport a couple of days ago.” He threw back a tarp and pulled what looked like a rifle out of a crate. The barrel was huge and the sights weren’t like any Cody had ever seen.

Rico tossed it to him. “Grenade launcher. Feel how light it is? Only weighs five pounds and has a range of over four hundred yards.”

Cody’s thoughts immediately went to the kids back at the prison camp. He chewed his lip and looked sideways at Rico. “Could you show me how to use this thing?”

“Sure. If the boss okays it.” Rico smiled at him. “You got some private score to settle?”

Cody handed the gun back to him. “You could say that.”

The rest of the tour included what was stored in the warehouse and the compound. The men who were awake in the barracks
looked at him curiously but didn’t ask any questions.

Outside, Cody glanced at the tall chain-link fence surrounding them. He noted the trucks and sand buggies parked near the gate. If he could get to one maybe he could hotwire it and … no, he needed some of those weapons stored in the warehouse, and more than that, he needed someone to teach him how to use them. He’d just have to stay here awhile and bide his time.

“There’s one other thing I still need to show you.” Rico’s voice broke into Cody’s thoughts. “It’s over here.”

Rico led him to a small blockhouse with no windows or doors. “Stay, Mike.” The dog stopped and sat. Rico unlocked the door and a blast of cold air hit them.

Cody walked inside. It was a freezer. Only instead of meat hanging from the ceiling, there were two bodies dressed in American military uniforms dangling from large metal hooks. A wave of nausea swept over Cody and he quickly stepped outside.

Rico followed. “You okay, kid?”

Cody whirled and glared at him. “How can you live with yourself? What kind of animals are you?”

The dog instantly jumped up, growling at Cody. Rico put his hand out. “It’s okay, Mike. Chill out.” He looked back at Cody. “The CCR pays good money for this scum. You wouldn’t want us to go hungry, now, would you? Of course, I can’t take any credit for it. It was all the boss’s idea. Pretty clever, if you ask me.”

Cody’s eyes narrowed into tight slits. “I’d starve before I’d turn on one of our guys.”

“Our guys?” Rico laughed. “Is that what you think? They weren’t ours, they were CCR.”

Cody looked confused. “I don’t understand. They’re wearing—”

“Of course they are, stupid. That’s the beauty of it. We shoot one of theirs, dress him up, change his papers and collect the bounty. Not only does it pay well, it keeps the boss on their good side. As long as they think we’re useful, they leave us alone.”

“And all the weapons?” Cody raised an eyebrow.

“That’s what we’re really all about. We sort of … borrow them from the CCR and then redistribute them to the right parties.”

“H
ere he is, boss. I gave him the grand tour just like you told me.” Rico showed Cody into an office that doubled as Franklin Stubbs’ sleeping quarters.

Franklin was sitting at his desk, working on some papers. He put down his pencil and folded his arms. “Thanks, Rico. You can go get some rest now.” When the door was closed, the dark-skinned man appraised the boy. “Well, what do you think of our little operation?”

Cody slid into one of the hard-backed chairs near the window. “I guess I understand things a little better now. Sorry about jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

“No problem. It seems you and I have quite a few new and interesting things to discuss.” Franklin pulled a poster out from under the paperwork on his desk. “Recognize this?”