Chapter 26: Caged Rat

Down by the lakeshore, hidden among the trees, Hardy decided to wait another twenty minutes after Tucker had closed the sliding glass door. He had been at the cabin for some time and had walked around the entire property. Tucker had two guards posted in front of the cabin and two more in the back. He had not seen anyone else moving around inside, except for Tucker and a woman.

When the sun went down, all available light went with it. A half-moon overhead allowed Hardy to see a few feet ahead of him. He turned on his PVS7 Night Vision Goggles, made by ATN Corporation, and the area in front of him was cast in a green hue. He crept up the path, until he got to the edge of the tree line. He was able to see the entire back yard. He squatted and waited for the guard to his right to start his return trip to the side of the cabin. When he did so, Hardy moved along the tree line and took a position near where the guard would stop when he came back. A few minutes later, the guard came toward Hardy, unaware of Hardy’s presence. The guard did a final sweep of the area and turned to walk away. Hardy sneaked forward a few steps and struck the base of the guard’s skull with the butt of his MP5 rifle. The guard’s body went limp. Hardy caught him and guided his fall to the ground before dragging him into the woods. He secured the man’s hands and feet and stuffed a piece of cloth into his mouth before covering him with tree branches.

Coming back to the edge of the yard, Hardy waited and watched. The guard on the opposite side of the cabin came around the corner. After a few seconds, he turned around and disappeared from sight. Hardy ran in a low squat across the deck attached to the main level of the cabin, stopping at the far corner. Facing the cabin, he cocked his head to see around the corner of the cabin. The guard was making his way back. Hardy wrapped an arm around the man’s neck and choked him, until he went limp in Hardy’s arms. Dragging the unconscious guard out of sight, he laid him near the cabin. He bound the man’s hands and feet with zip ties and stuffed his mouth full of Hardy’s Washington Redskins t-shirt, which he had shredded. Now that the guards were not a factor, he could move to the upper level.

At the top of the stairs, Hardy watched the sliding glass door through which Tucker had disappeared. The way seemed clear. Hardy ascended the last few steps, pressed his body against the building and sidestepped to the edge of the sliding glass door. The room was casting a soft glow from a low wattage light bulb. He removed his NVG’s and stowed them. He did not want to risk a look inside. There was enough moonlight that if anyone was looking in his direction, he would have been spotted. He waited a few moments more. Hearing two somewhat muffled moans coming from the room, he saw his chance to gain access to the room, while the occupants were otherwise engaged.

Hardy pushed the handle on the door and it moved. Tucker had not locked it. Why would he? He thinks he’s alone on the mountain. Hardy readied his MP5 and slipped into the room.

The woman in the bed with Tucker let out a low squeal and pulled the covers around her naked body. Tucker sat against the headboard, taken by surprise.

“What the hell is this? Who are you?” Not getting a reply, Tucker threw back the covers to get out of the bed.

Hardy leapt forward and leveled the rifle at Tucker. “Stay where you are.”

Tucker froze in place, one leg in the bed and the other hanging over the edge.

Hardy’s eyes dropped and he saw more than he wanted to see. He motioned toward the man. “Please feel free to use the blanket.” He picked up the woman’s lacy negligee with the sound suppressor attached to his MP5 and tossed it toward her. The twenty-year-old, if that, scrambled for the robe.

“Your secretary said you were away with family for the weekend.” Hardy looked at the woman, donning the negligee. “Something tells me this isn’t your wife. And, I certainly hope she isn’t your daughter.” He looked at the woman. “You should leave now, miss.”

The woman turned toward Tucker with a look of disgust on her face. “You’re married and you have a kid?” She got to her knees, wound up her right hand and delivered a slap to Tucker’s face that even Hardy felt. “You’re a sick bastard.” She slinked out of the bed and left the room. Tucker was rubbing his cheek, looking at the door the woman had exited, when Hardy pressed the trigger of his rifle and sent a couple rounds into the headboard near Tucker’s right ear. The man flinched and covered his head.

“Do I have your attention now, Mr. Tucker?”

Tucker asked a question of his own. “What’s this all about?”

Hardy shook his head. “That’s not how this is going to work. I will ask the questions and you will give me the answers. Is that clear?”

Tucker’s eyes shifted to the open door leading to the deck.

“Your men have been neutralized. It’s just you and me.”

Tucker was a caged rat. A man of his power was not accustomed to being in such a compromising position. Hardy could see Tucker’s mind working overtime, trying to come up with a way out of this situation. “Did you bomb that tavern last night and kill my men?”

Now, the wheels in Tucker’s mind were really spinning. His eyes got wide and his mouth opened. “Hardy,” he said. “Sergeant Aaron Hardy. So, that’s what this is all about? Why would I do that? You work for me. Why would I want to kill you or my men?”

“Your men? We work for the United States Marine Corps, not The Tucker Group. Why would you say that we work for you?”

Tucker did not respond. His mind had begun to spin a lie. Hardy was under the impression he was serving his country. Tucker stammered, as he chose his words. “Well…I know your commanding officer…Colonel Ludlum. It was only a figure of speech, I guess. I meant nothing by it.”

“Ludlum is dead.”

Tucker was silent.

“He shot himself…after he told me about your operation. It’s over, Tucker.”

Tucker glared at the man dressed in black.

Hardy fired two more rounds. The bullets penetrated the headboard next to Tucker’s left ear.

He nearly bounded out of the bed before cursing at Hardy. “Ludlum always was a weak link. I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. But you, Hardy, you’re the real deal. No one else could have figured out what was going on.” Tucker stroked his chin. “I have a job for you. I want you take over for Ludlum. I’ll find you more men. What do you say? I’ll double what I was paying Ludlum.”

Hardy wanted to empty his MP5 into the man’s chest, reload and repeat. He relaxed his trigger finger. “Why? Why did you have all those good men killed?”

“What about my offer?”

Hardy shook his head. “Forget it, Tucker. The FBI is involved. It’s only a matter of time before you fry for what you’ve done.” There was more cursing from Tucker. “Why did you kill my men?”

Tucker shrugged. “Loose ends, I guess. They were loose ends. Those men, and you, were just pawns on a chess board, puppets whose strings were being pulled by—”

Hardy shot back, “Those were American soldiers, serving their country.”

“Don’t give me that. You jarheads are all the same. You’ll murder anyone who stands in opposition to you and then wrap yourself up in the American flag. Besides, I didn’t give the order to have them killed. If it were up to me, they’d still be alive and working for me.” He held up his hand and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “You boys made me a…lot…of…money.”

“Who was it, then? Who ordered them to be killed? Was it Hastings?”

Tucker nodded. “He got soft. He was afraid everything we had done would be exposed and he’d go down in flames.”

“You make me sick.” Hardy raised his rifle and centered Tucker’s chest in the weapon’s rear peep sight. The time had come. His right forefinger applied steady pressure to the trigger before stopping in mid stroke. Hardy wanted justice for his men. They deserved it. But, was this the way to administer that justice? Was this the way to honor his men? Hardy questioned his motives. Am I thinking of them or me? Was he trying to alleviate his guilt for the things he had done the past three years? He thought about what Special Agent Cruz had said to him. If he shot Tucker, Hardy would forever be a wanted man. Interrupting his thoughts, Tucker shouted at him.

“Well, get it over with you rotten son of a—”