14
Jennifer maneuvered carefully through the trees avoiding twigs that might snap and other noisy blunders. When she stepped between two small trees and pushed aside some branches the road lay at her feet.
The road would lead her down the mountain for help, but her heart pulled her in the opposite direction, back to help Lee. But going back might endanger him so she would keep her promise.
“Please, God, protect him,” she whispered as she stepped onto the old logging road.
This is becoming a habit.
Was her new habit born of desperation or a growing faith? Unsure of the answer she deferred the question until later.
Jennifer started jogging slowly, letting her leg muscles warm up. Soon she had stretched out the kinks from the hours spent hiding in the cave. Her muscles warmed and relaxed. But not her mind. It couldn’t stop worrying about Lee.
I know he’s intelligent and he knows these mountains, but please keep him safe.
Another prayer. Desperation or faith? The question remained. So would her spontaneous prayers…at least for now.
After Jennifer passed the saddle between two peaks she reached the switchback where the road turned to the right and then plunged downward in a steep descent to the valley floor. Gravity wanted to take over now, and she gave in to its force, for speed and to conserve energy. As she accelerated Jennifer used her leg strength to hold back so she wouldn’t lose control of her body.
The road steepened and she felt like she was flying down the mountain. The feeling was so exhilarating she couldn’t resist letting gravity have its way. She had never gotten into running. But if it could give her this sensation she vowed to begin running every day.
She flew down the mountain for another two-hundred yards. Over the treetops a whole residential development appeared. Those houses were a considerable distance from the mountain.
Another hundred yards down the road, she passed the upper end of a mountainside meadow. The new spring grass was a brilliant green and the early wildflowers sprinkled it with yellow and lavender. At the base of the meadow lay house number one.
The long wait to call for help—the wait filled with one frustration after another—was nearly over.
Jennifer felt an urge to run straight to the door of the house. As her gaze swept the property it settled on the driveway. A large iron gate blocked access to the house. She looked on both sides of the gate. The owner had fenced the entire property.
A survivalist?
She’d heard of those who so distrusted the government and nearly everyone else that they fortified themselves in their houses. She saw some of their websites filled with conspiracy theories. Theories such as 9-11 being an “inside job.” Her time with NSA provided access to facts proving the foolishness of such thought.
She had analyzed some of the 9-11 terrorists’ communications, gleaning intelligence NSA could not obtain until after the attack. What she learned about the evil behind the attacks motivated her to undertake her current work developing tools to thwart terrorist plots.
Another two hundred yards would take her to house number two, which sat close beside houses number three and four. Beyond those houses there were many more. These were the homes of people who did not shrink from community. She made her choice—house number two as Lee recommended.
Thoughts of myriad different possibilities ran through her mind as she ran to the front door. But Lee said he “prayed hard” and she saw enough in the last twenty-four hours to believe God answered. The God she doubted for the past two years—the years since her father died.
She pushed the doorbell button.
Please, let the right person answer.
A peace swept over her. She was meant to be standing in front of this house at this very time. Somehow, she was certain.
The door opened a crack at first, then all the way. A graying, middle-aged lady cocked her head and frowned. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Ma’am, my name is Jennifer Akihara and my friend is in trouble on the mountain.” Jennifer gestured towards the peak she hoped Lee would run down in a few minutes.
The woman cocked her head to the other side. She studied Jennifer for a couple of seconds. “I know you. You’re the young lady who is missing—I guess I should say was missing. Come in. Come in. My name is Marie Benson and you probably want to use the phone.”
Puzzled by being recognized so quickly, Jennifer hesitated before entering. After the car bombing, the shooting, and two people missing, her picture and Lee’s were probably in the Saturday paper and shown on TV. Good. That meant the police and the FBI were searching for them.
“Miss, are you coming in?”
I’ve got to get focused.
“Yes, ma’am. I need to talk to the police. My friend could be killed and we might possibly be in danger here.”
“My goodness, here’s the phone. Call. Oh yes, you’ll need to tell them our address. It’s 4504 West Marie Street.”
Jennifer stepped to the phone and dialed. The 911 operator came on the line and immediately recognized her name.
After the operator obtained the preliminary information things began to move quickly. “The Kerbyville police are on the way. They should be at the Benson’s house in three or four minutes.”
She sighed. “Good. Please tell them the people who chased us have automatic weapons—more than one—maybe two or three. Also tell them Lee Brandt is still on the mountain trying to elude the gunmen and then join me down here.”
“Thank you. I’ll pass your information to Officer Robbins.” After a short pause, the operator was back. “Is there anything else the police should know?”
“Yes. As far as I know, the gunmen are still on the mountain. They may be held up there for a while if Lee’s plan is successful. But my car, a white, older sedan, is about a mile or two up Holten Creek Road below the limestone spire. The gunmen’s car is a black SUV. It will be parked nearby if they’re still on the mountain.”
“Thanks again. I will pass the information to them in just a moment. You should be hearing sirens, now.”
“Yes, I hear them.”
“Good. Now I want to alert you to what will likely happen next—it could get a little crazy where you are. First, the local police will arrive. But we think the media might arrive about the same time. Your story is a hot news item. If a media circus starts, avoid them and talk only to the police. And I’ve been told that soon some folks other than the police will be there to talk with you. I thought you should know.”
Jennifer could guess who “some people” would be, some members of the JTTF and, not long after, an NSA agent.
“Officer Robbins is out front, now. Good luck. We’re glad you’re safe and thanks for the information you provided.”
Jennifer hung up and hurried to the door with Mrs. Benson trailing behind her. She pulled the door open and looked up into the kindly face of the biggest policeman she’d ever seen.
“Ms. Akihara, I’m Officer Robbins. Let’s sit down and you can give me the information you have and I’ll call it in. Then I’ll tell you what I know and we can proceed from there.”
Maybe this was the end of this dreadful drama. Perhaps it was the beginning of a much better one, provided Lee made it safely down the mountain.
Please, God, help him.