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Beep, beep beep, beep.
Tim had been dreaming, but his watch alarm interrupted it. He opened his eyes and immediately had a feeling of dread, the type of feeling that someone gets when anticipating a very unpleasant or scary experience.
Tim recalled during some training class how one should not confuse the feelings of dread with the feeling of excitement. Dread and excitement were very closely related, and Tim understood that certain individuals actually became addicted to these kinds of feelings if they found a reward for them at some point later on. Perhaps this was what gambling addiction was about. Tim was not sure. All he knew was that he hated the feeling.
Tim turned off his watch alarm and nudged Pam, who was still resting against his shoulder. After their lovemaking, both had taken cover under a blanket. “Wake up. It’s game time,” he said, not really understanding why he’d used a sports metaphor.
Tim looked up at the smoke detector and how it appeared to be wired into the house’s circuits. Tim hoped that when Sebastian was disabling the communications in the safe room, he hadn’t also disabled the fire alarm—but what did they have to lose?
“I would kill for a cup of coffee,” Pam grunted as she woke up.
Even if making coffee were possible, it would not be a good idea, since it might alert others to what Pam and Tim were doing. “I saw some cans of Diet Coke in the mini,” Tim offered. “One of those should give you a caffeine fix.”
Pam walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a can. “Mm, nice and cold,” she remarked, offering some to Tim.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Tim replied. It had been a long time since he’d had a Coke. He had given them up because he believed that they were making him fat. “My god, vanity is a real luxury,” he mumbled.
“I guess, Tim,” Pam replied, not knowing what her husband was talking about.
“So, are you ready to do this?” Tim asked.
“Yes, I’m ready,” Pam replied.
“And we know what we’re doing?”
“Well, I don’t know if we know what we’re doing—but I know what we need to do,” Pam answered with a smile.
Pam had left a couple of lighters on the desk along with some paper. Both Pam and Tim realized the value of having a cigarette lighter around, since you never knew when you might need some fire and absolutely no one carried matches any more. Now, Pam walked to the door of the safe room and placed her hands on it. Meanwhile, Tim lit the piece of paper and waved it under the smoke detector.
It did not take long for the alarm to respond. A high-pitched squeal sounded that almost made Tim nauseous. He jumped off the top bunk and toward the door.
There was a clunking sound, and Tim and Pam pushed the door open to find Toby sitting across the room. He had apparently been asleep but was quickly waking up. A body that appeared to be Mary Ann was lying at Toby’s feet, her hands and feet bound with duct tape.
Tim jumped over Mary Ann and rammed into Toby, who was rising from his chair. This resulted in Toby, Tim, and the chair toppling over. Tim was now on top of Toby, and he threw a punch that landed on the side of Toby’s skull.
Tim’s punch did little to subdue the man, who grabbed Tim on both sides of his chest and threw him to one side. Tim landed on his left shoulder and looked back to Pam, who was now at the gun safe. Toby had lost the M16 that had been resting on his lap. As he bent down to get it, Tim jumped on Toby’s back and wrapped his forearm around Toby’s neck, trying to choke him—but the big man just wouldn’t go down.
Toby was actually able to flip Tim off his back and onto the granite table. He looked to be deciding what to do next with Tim when the basement door opened, and Darrel appeared on the stairs.
Darrel looked truly confused as he saw Tim flat on his back, Mary Ann tied up on the floor, Pam in the corner holding a shotgun, and Toby holding an M16. Darrel was turning to Pam as to ask what to do when Toby shot him in his abdomen. Darrel dropped his weapon, grabbed his stomach, and fell down the stairs. Meanwhile, Tim rolled off the worktable and onto the floor. Tim looked at Pam, who had leveled the shotgun at Toby but had not yet fired. Tim turned to see Toby using the unconscious Mary Ann as a shield. He slowly walked up the stairs with Mary Ann in one hand while still holding the M16 in the other. The rifle was pointed at Pam, and Tim was convinced that Toby planned on shooting her very soon.
Darrel had dropped his Glock as he fell down the stairs, and the pistol had bounced about one foot away from Tim. Tim grabbed the pistol and yelled, “Hey numb nuts!” at Toby.
He fired.
The bullet hit the side of one of the steps and splintered the wood, which seemed to fly everywhere. Toby turned and fired a burst at Tim. The bullets bounced off of the granite tabletop, falling harmlessly around the room.
When Tim looked up once again, Toby was gone.
Tim looked at Pam as he walked over to check on Darrel. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
“Yeah, fine. How is Darrel?”
“Not good. It appears he’s going into shock.”
“Wait and watch that door,” Pam ordered as she went back into the safe room and returned with a blanket and a first aid kit. “Do you remember if it’s okay to administer morphine for stomach wounds, Tim?”
“Yeah, I think that’s okay,” Tim said as he watched Pam give Darrel an injection.
Meanwhile, they heard movement on the first floor and what sounded like the front door opening. “Sounds like people are leaving,” Tim observed.
Pam took a marker and drew a large M on Darrel’s forehead, signifying that he had been given morphine.
“I don’t know if the kids know what the big M means, Pam, but they should get the idea if you leave the first aid kit out here.”
“Yeah, I hope so. Do you still have Darrel’s gun?”
Tim held up Darrel’s Glock to show Pam.
“Okay, Tim. Here, you take the shotgun. I have what I need. We’ve got to go and try and catch up with Sebastian and Toby. We have to finish this.”
Pam had treated Darrel for shock as best as she knew how, so now she stood up to leave. “Darrel, I’m sorry. I should have told you what was going on. I hope you can forgive me,” she murmured. Pam then pushed open the basement door with the barrel of her Glock 19 9mm and motioned for Tim to follow her up the stairs to the first floor.
The house appeared to be empty, but the fire alarm was still sounding. “Tim? Do you have any idea how long we’ve been out of the safe room?”
Tim looked at his watch. “Over ten minutes, but less than fifteen.”
“Okay,” Pam said.
She stepped out into the hallway and yelled, “United States Marshal Service. You are on United States Government property! Make yourself known.”
If there was anyone left in the house, they did not make themselves known.
“Why do all of that, Pam?” Tim wanted to know.
“It’s possible that there are some contractors still here, and god knows what Sebastian told them. God only knows what Sebastian told Darrel. Anyhow, let’s go—we might still be able to catch up to them.”
Tim and Pam started toward the kitchen, where Pam opened a drawer and produced a set of keys while Tim looked out at the driveway. The plumbing van was still there, but not Sebastian’s SUV.
“We need to check out the van, Tim. Can you do that while I start the Land Rover?”
Pam and Tim left the safe house by way of the kitchen door. The March air was colder than they had expected, but after a night in the safe room, it felt refreshing. Pam walked over to the Land Rover while Tim tried the doors to the plumbing van. All of the doors were locked, but Tim felt that the inside of the van needed to be checked in case Toby had dumped Mary Ann in it. He began to beat the passenger side window with the butt of the shotgun, but it didn’t break. Tim next placed the barrel of the shotgun directly on the window and fired. The window shattered, setting off an alarm.
“Wonderful,” Tim said out loud as he opened the door. Nothing; they must have taken Mary Ann with them.
At that point, Pam pulled up in the Land Rover, but stopped at the house’s front door. She got out and stuck a post-it note on the door, then turned to Tim. “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Tim replied.
“Then let’s go!”
As Tim climbed into the passenger side of the Land Rover, he could hear sirens from somewhere down the road. That must be the Loudoun County Fire Department getting close. Pam reentered the driver’s side, threw the Land Rover into gear, and headed down the driveway.
“Put your seat belt on,” Pam told Tim as they bounced up and down. The suspension on the Land Rover was much tighter than Pam’s Mercedes.
“What did that note say, Pam? The one that you stuck to the door?” Tim wanted to know.
“It just said ‘victim in basement with gunshot wound to abdomen.’ I just wanted to try and give Darrel a fighting chance.”
Pam did seem truly upset that Darrel had caught a bullet in his gut. The paramedics might be able to save him if they got to him in time. Tim wondered why Darrel was not wearing a vest as usual and thought that perhaps he’d walked into the fight when he was just coming on duty.
Pam had now reached the end of the driveway and Lovettsville Road, where she turned right and headed to US Route 15. As she drove closer, they saw a line of cars at the stop sign. Beyond that was a line of cars backed up at the bridge that headed north across the Potomac River and into the state of Maryland. Sebastian’s Mercedes SUV was the second vehicle at the stop sign attempting to turn left.
To confuse matters even more, a fire engine responding to the Safe House alarm was coming down Route 15 heading north but driving in the southbound lane in order to get around traffic. The siren and air horn from the fire engine were both blaring. It was able to make the left turn from US 15 to Lovettsville Road, a medic unit ambulance and some type of supervisor driving a Chevy Suburban soon following. After them came two marked Loudoun County Sheriff units and one Virginia State Police unit.
“Well, the gang’ all here,” Pam said. “And there will be more, especially when they find a victim.”
One of the cars at the stop sign was able to make the left turn onto US Route 15, and now Sebastian’s SUV was first in line. Then Sebastian’s turn signal went from blinking left to blinking right as Sebastian turned and headed south to Leesburg.
“Okay, here we go,” Pam declared as she turned into the other lane of the narrow Lovettsville Road in order to go around the four cars in front of her. Pam leaned on her car horn and flashed her lights on and off as she was doing this. Meanwhile, yet another Loudoun County marked Sheriff’s unit was about to make a left hand turn off of US Route 15 but stopped in the middle of the intersection and let Pam pass. Pam waved at the officer as she passed him, and Tim was convinced that the cop would follow the Land Rover because of Pam’s blatant traffic violation.
Instead, the unit continued onto Lovettsville Road. Pam just laughed. “The call to my safe house is a lot more exciting than some traffic infraction,” she said as the Land Rover picked up speed.
Sebastian was now in front of Pam and Tim, and he was apparently unaware that they were following. The SUV turned off of US Route 15 and into a gas station on the right-hand side.
“Got you bastards now,” Pam said under her breath as she rammed the Mercedes SUV from behind.
The SUV moved up about five feet. The driver’s side window came down, and Sebastian stuck his head out.
“He doesn’t know it was us who hit him,” Tim said as he started to get out.
“Hold on, Tim. He does now.” They could both see that Sebastian had produced a gun.
Sebastian took off again and drove back out on US 15, this time turning left and heading north to Maryland. Pam was right on his tail. Sebastian’s SUV picked up speed as he approached the Point of Rocks Bridge.
Traffic was still backed up beginning in the middle of the bridge, and Sebastian had no choice but to stop. Pam was now directly behind the Mercedes SUV, and she rammed it once again, this time pushing Sebastian’s SUV into the vehicle directly in front of it.
“I’ll take care of Sebastian. Tim, you take care of Toby,” Pam ordered as she got out of the Land Rover, gun in hand.
The driver in the vehicle in front of Sebastian was apparently getting out of his vehicle to inspect the damage. Tim heard Pam yell, “Sir, please remain in your vehicle! United States Marshals!”
The guy probably saw Pam walking down the middle of the road with the Glock in her hands and decided not to argue. Meanwhile, Tim got out of the Land Rover and racked the shotgun just as Toby emerged from the SUV with the M16 on full automatic. Toby fired a burst of bullets as Tim dove back into the Land Rover. Tim could hear the bullets hit the various parts of the Land Rover and was surprised that none managed to hit him.
Tim knew that he had maybe one chance to stand and fire the shotgun at Toby, but Tim could hear Toby walking toward him, calling his name. “Come out, Tim!” he heard Toby say in a singsong voice, which was very creepy.
Tim then heard a voice that sounded like Mary Ann’s, except he had never heard her sound this way. “Toby, you son of a bitch!” Mary Ann screamed, and Tim stuck his head up to see Mary Ann attack Toby with a tire iron.
Tim watched as Toby tried to hold off Mary Ann with one hand while still gripping his M16 with the other. When he was finally able to wrestle the tire iron away from Mary Ann, he threw it to the side. Toby then grabbed Mary Ann by the hair and banged her head into the side of the SUV. Mary Ann fell to the ground like a rag doll.
Toby looked up and froze. While Toby had been fighting off Mary Ann, Tim had moved closer and had leveled the shotgun directly at Toby’s head. The two men stared at each other for a second—and then Tim pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. The gun must have jammed when Tim was using the butt of the weapon to break into the plumbing van. Tim tried in vain to eject the shotgun shell, but he heard Toby laugh and looked up to see the M16 pointed directly at him.
“It’s just not your day, dude,” Toby said.
But then his head seemed to explode right before Tim’s eyes. Brains and blood came flying out, and Toby’s limp body fell to the ground.
Tim took a step back and looked to his left to see Pam holding her Glock 19 9mm. Pam had simply walked over, pointed at Toby’s head, and fired. He never saw it coming.
Tim was about to say something to Pam when he noticed that she now had her Glock pointed directly at him. “I’ve been thinking, Tim, that your presence here at the safe house is going to be difficult for us to explain,” Pam said.
“Us?” Tim asked.
“Sebastian and me. You see, when we write this up as an internal security incident, too many people are going to want to know what you were doing here in the first place. After all, you are supposed to be retired and living in Baltimore. You’re just going to be hard to explain. Please understand, it’s nothing personal.”
“Pam, come now. It’s time for us to go.”
It was Sebastian. He had walked up to Pam, and they were now both standing on the yellow double line of the road.
Pam had turned to say something to Sebastian when Tim saw what looked like all of the blood drain out of her face. Pam must have seen the pickup truck coming straight for them. Sebastian never did.
The truck must have been traveling at 50 miles per hour when it struck Sebastian and then Pam. Sebastian ended up crushed under the truck’s wheels, while Pam was found about twenty feet down the road. She had broken her neck, and Tim saw that her eyes were open, staring up to the sky. Tim thought that he saw tears in them. Later on, Tim was told that the driver never saw them because Sebastian’s dark overcoat had made them look like part of the black SUV.
Tim looked back to see that there were now several people gathered around Mary Ann, and they appeared to be caring for her. Tim began to hear more sirens, this time coming from both the Maryland and Virginia sides of the bridge. Traffic was jammed in every direction.
Tim turned and walked back to the Virginia side and saw a Loudoun County Sheriff’s Deputy standing next to his cruiser. The accident on the bridge would be under the jurisdiction of the State of Maryland, so the Loudoun County officer was just watching. Tim opened his wallet and found the piece of paper that Pam had given him with the name and phone number of the County Liaison Officer. Tim approached the young deputy and handed him the paper.
“Officer, my name is Tim Hall, and I am with the Central Intelligent Agency. I have pertinent information concerning this event on the bridge, and I need to speak with this officer and this officer only.”
The young deputy looked at Tim, looked at the piece of paper, and then looked at Tim once again.
“So, you’re telling me that you can only speak with Captain Henderson? I’m not sure if Captain Henderson is on duty right now,” the deputy said.
“Not a problem, officer. Just call dispatch or your supervisor and tell them that you have a CIA Case Officer who needs to confer with Captain Henderson. They will know what to do.” Tim was trying his best to be as nice as possible to the young deputy.
“Okay, sir. You better sit in the car while I make the phone call.” The deputy opened the back door to his police cruiser, and Tim got in.
“I guess we will have to see what happens next,” Tim said, but he was now alone with no one to hear him.