Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Durango

Once the scheduled hour came and went with no notice from Harding to move forward, we knew what the guard said was true. And we'd need to wait here a little longer. The curtains were so dusty we finally had to step out from behind them. Now, we are both staring at the phones Harding gave us, waiting for the command to go.

"It's time," Moose says as Harding's message comes through.

We walk to the other end of the building, where there is a door. It opens to a covered walkway that leads us to the next building. Before entering, we wait at the door. Moose is holding his phone, and my hand is on the doorknob.

Harding sends a text that's our cue to count to five and then open the door.

"One, two, three, four, five," Moose says quietly.

On five, I open the door, gun ready, as we are greeted by a wall. This building is not like the last one. Instead of being open, we are forced to go right or left upon entry. I motion for Moose to go to the right; I take the left.

At the corner, I carefully peer around. It's another long corridor. Not well lit. As I make my way down, I hear steps of another person coming my way. I still. Harding's jacket comes into view. She spots me and points to a door. It opens to the middle of the building.

Harding holds up three fingers and slowly lowers each one. As soon as she does, we both rush into the room, guns aimed. Seconds later, Moose and Davis do the same to another door on the opposite side of the room.

The room is one large, well-lit space. On one end of the room, there are three chairs, and in the middle chair is a man tied up. He has duct tape over his mouth. Harding goes to him.

"Damien?" she asks.

He nods.

"We are here to get you out. I'm going to take the tape off. Don't scream."

She rips the tape off, and the man makes a low guttural sound. He has a beard, and I imagine the tape must have taken some of it with it.

Davis unties Damien's legs while Harding works to get his arms free. Moose and I are listening for anyone else who might be coming.

"Thank you," Damien says. "They said they would kill my wife tonight if I didn't give them the information they wanted. We must save her."

"I have someone on that as we speak," Harding says. "Now, we need to get out of here as quietly as possible. Can you walk?"

Damien nods.

"Good, let's go," Harding says, leading the way.

She goes out the door we came in and retraces her steps. Damien struggles to walk. Moose puts an arm around his waist to help him. Davis and I follow at the rear.

We go through the other building, and I note it's the same as the one Moose and I were in. It's an open space with nothing in it.

Once out the final door, we are in the back courtyard. We run for the fence. Moose ends up carrying Damien so we don't lose time. Harding runs at the fence and jumps up, grabbing the top. Harding hoists herself on the ledge, then reaches down as Davis jumps up and grabs her hand. Davis goes over the ledge and secures herself in the tree abutting the fence.

"Hand him up," Harding says to Moose.

I help Moose lift Damien until Harding can reach him. With Davis's help, they get him to the other side. Moose motions for me to go next, so I run at the fence and jump up as Harding did. Harding doesn't hesitate and pulls me over. Moose follows.

Damien is sitting on the ground next to the tree, and Davis is no longer here. "Where's Davis?"

Harding glances around. "She likely went up the path, making sure it's clear." She nods toward the dirt path we came in on.

Damien stands. "I can walk."

"Sorry, but right now, we need to run," Moose says as he bends down and tosses Damien over his shoulder.

Harding leads the way, and we all follow as we run uphill to the overlook. Davis is there staring down at the compound.

"They just figured out he's gone. Run," Davis says quietly but forcefully.

I stare down at the compound. The guards glance in our direction and must catch sight of us. They break out in a sprint toward us.

We race to the car and all pile in. Harding tears out of the parking spot and speeds down the road.

"My wife! We must go back for her," Damien yells.

"She's with my contact. We're going to pick them up next."

I glance at Moose. Damien is squished between us in the back seat. I don't see how we are getting anyone else in this car. "Any chance you have a bigger car waiting for us?" I ask Harding.

She laughs. "What's wrong, Durango? You don't want to ride in the trunk?"

"Not really, no."

"Don't worry. Damien and his wife will be in the trunk. We can't risk them being seen," Davis says.

Damien's eyes widen. "She's kidding, right?"

"Sorry, but I don't think she is," I say.

The car bumps around as we move off the highway and onto a dirt road. About a quarter mile up, Rover stands there with a woman. She's wearing a black dress with a dark-green scarf.

Harding stops the car and pops the trunk. Davis gets out and opens my back door.

"Let's go," she says to Damien.

I get out, and Damien slides out behind me.

"You both are going in the trunk," Davis tells the woman with Rover.

"The trunk? I don't think so," she says.

"Sylvia, we don't have time to argue. We can't let them see us. Get in!" Damien orders.

Sylvia huffs before climbing into the trunk.

Damien's gaze meets mine. "Keep us safe, please."

I nod, and he gets in.

Davis closes the trunk. "Let's go," she says.

We get back into the car, and now I'm in the middle of the backseat between Moose and Rover. Hopefully, this will be a short ride.

Harding turns around and returns to the highway. She's driving us to the extraction point, wherever that is.

Davis makes a call. I can't hear the other side of her conversation, but I get the feeling things are not going right.

She ends the call. "Shit!"

"What?" Harding asks.

"The pilot can't get here tonight. We have to wait until tomorrow," Davis says.

"Why? I thought you were very clear with him we needed a pickup, too."

"I was, but we're running an hour later, remember? Instead of waiting, he left."

Harding pounds her hands on the steering wheel. "He left? Did you not explain the severity of the situation?"

"Trust me. I did," Davis says.

After we've driven a few miles, Harding makes a call.

She speaks fast, and I'm struggling to catch every word, but I'm pretty sure she's trying to find a place for us to go.

Once she's done, she tosses her phone at Davis. "We are sleeping in the woods tonight," she says. "Fortunately, it's summer, so it won't be too bad. We'll take turns keeping watch."

We drive past the field where the plane landed and into another wooded area. Finally, Harding turns off the highway onto a dirt road. It's dark, and there are trees on both sides. Once we are out of sight of the highway, she turns the car around, facing us toward the way we came.

"This is it," she announces as she gets out of the car.

The rest of us get out and stretch as Harding is at the back, helping Damien and Sylvia out of the trunk.

"Durango, you get first shift with Damien. Rover, you are watching his wife," Harding says.

"My name is Sylvia," the woman says with a thick British accent.

Harding nods. "All right. Rover, you are watching Sylvia. Moose, you watch the road. Davis and I will take the first shift of sleep. In four hours, Davis will relieve Moose, and I will relieve you two."

No one argues.

"See you in four," Harding says. She steps farther into the trees, and Davis follows her.

I help Damien sit on the ground.

"Thanks," he says. "The more I move around, the better I feel. I think I was just sitting in one position too long."

"Your English is good." From what I'd read about Damien, I didn't expect him to speak English at all.

He shrugs. "It's gotten better since we've been together." He nods to his wife. "She doesn't understand Russian."

Then, in Russian, he says, "Woman wants my money but can't be bothered to learn my language."

I chuckle, catching myself too late.

His eyes widen. "You understood?"

Well, so much for catching Damien saying something he didn't intend us to hear. But who is he going to speak to in Russian now? I can use this to my advantage.

"Yes," I say.

Damien smiles. He glances toward his wife and then back to me. "It's a good thing my wife doesn't understand Russian. I don't want to get her involved any more than she has to. The less she knows, the better."

After his last comment, I thought perhaps he didn't care for her, but I may have been wrong.

"Do you know why those men were threatening me?" he continues in Russian.

I notice Moose staring straight ahead but listening to us. At least I can compare notes with him later about whatever Damien tells me.

"No, I do not," I say.

"I have information that they want."

"What kind of information?"

Damien takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Have you heard about the US convoy that went missing near Slobozia?"

"No."

"It was attacked one week ago while transporting weapons to its base in Romania."

"I didn't hear anything about that." Not that I'm paying a lot of attention to the news, but if something like that made the news, Reed or one of the guys would have mentioned it.

"It was kept out of the press because of what was stolen."

He glances at Moose and his wife. His wife is sleeping. Moose appears to be daydreaming, but I'm certain he's listening to us.

"Nuclear missiles," Damien says. "And I know where they are."

All right, that just upped the stakes. "Why do you know where they are?"

"Because I was there. After we acquired the missiles, we transported them to a secret location. Only four of us knew the location. The other three men have been killed. Then I was captured."

"You're saying you are the last person to know the location of the missiles?"

He nods. "And I want to give them to you."

"Why?" He went to all this trouble to get missiles, likely killing Americans if he overtook a convoy, and now he wants to just give it up?

"Because I'm afraid it's going to fall into the wrong hands. Those men who captured me won't stop until they have them. I'll give you the coordinates. Can you memorize them?"

I grab my phone out of my pocket. "No, but I can record them here." I pull up a note-taking app. "Ready."

"47°21'48.9"N, 27°28'57.2"E""

After I input the location, I turn to him. "They're still in Romania?"

"Yes. It will appear to be a farm field, but across a road, you will find a small house. In the basement, there is a door that leads to a path. It will take you under the field, and that is where you will find the missiles."

"Those are very specific instructions."

He nods. "Yes. You need to find them before anyone else does. Tell your associates. If word gets out that I'm not the only person who knows, hopefully, my life will be spared."

And the true reason for sharing this information comes out. He's trying to save himself.

"We might have better luck keeping you safe if we know who you are working for." He glances over at his wife and then back at me. "Stanvich," he says quietly.

I don't recognize the name, but hopefully Harding will.

"Our plan now is to keep you in custody until we can get you somewhere safe.

Damien laughs. "Trust me, there is no place you all can take me that is safe. I won't be safe until the US retrieves those weapons and makes some public announcement. Then my wife and I can go back home safely."

I don't feel like arguing with him. He just admitted to being part of an attack on military members of the United States. And while I don't have the details, it's likely some or all of them died. This man isn't going free anytime soon. But I don't want him trying to escape from us, either.

"I'll see what I can do," I lie.

"You hear him over there?" Sylvia says to Moose. "He speaks in Russian when he doesn't want me to know what's going on. Considering the situation he's gotten me into, he should fill me in on the mess he's gotten us into."

"The less you know, the better, my dear," Damien says.

"Bullshit," Sylvia says. She turns away from us to sleep.

"Don't get married," Damien says. "It's highly overrated."

I hadn't really thought about getting married, but now that he has brought it up, my mind goes to Willow. Could I see myself married to her someday? A vision of us hosting a barbecue for our friends is vivid in my mind. We both have gray hair.

Startled, I shake the thought away. I've never imagined growing old with someone before. And as much as I'd like to dig deeper into that thought, I need to stay focused. We could be found at any time.