REPORT NUMBER: 25

REPORT TITLE: We Take On the Bad Guys and Make Them Angry

SUBMITTED BY: Agent-in-Training Spencer Garmond

LOCATION: Mission League training compound, Bear Paw Lake Lodge, Alaska, USA

DATE AND TIME: Sunday, August 5, early afternoon

 

 

We rehearsed what to say on our way up the hill, but by the time we were creeping up to the entrance of the lodge, my mind went into auto-pilot.

Nick entered first. Drew and I paused in the foyer, out of sight, waiting for our cue.

“Nice gun, Muren.” Tebow’s voice. “You know how to use that?”

“I’ve got Garmond,” Nick said. “He’s outside and he wants to talk.”

“What talk? We aren’t here to talk.”

“Stay out of here, Spencer!” Mr. S yelled. “It’s not safe to—”

A smack. A grunt.

“Shut it, baldy.” Tebow again.

I clenched my jaw. He better not mess with Mr. S.

“You want to talk to him or not?” Nick asked.

“No, we flew all the way to Alaska to get bit by a million mosquitoes,” Tebow said.

“Spencer!” Nick called, his voice tight. “Come on in.”

I met Drew’s gaze and nodded.

We entered the lodge, guns drawn. I angled mine toward the floor. A quick glance around the room confirmed Gabe’s initial assessment. Tebow and Blondie had positioned themselves at the end of the dining tables, by the kitchen doors. Blondie had his laptop set up at the end of the table. They’d put their captives in the corner on the floor behind them. Despite the sound I’d heard, Mr. S looked unharmed. A quick headcount showed six hostages—Mr. S, Kimbal, Kerri, Chiklak, Dusty, and Bill. No wolves. And no sign of Alcan. Where was that old coot?

Blondie closed his laptop. “This was not what we discussed, Mr. Muren.”

Tebow barked a laugh. “You boys gonna shoot us?”

“Maybe,” Nick said.

“We’re hoping it won’t come to that,” I said.

“Thing is, you’re not the ones calling the shots here,” Tebow said. “This is our show, and you’re going to do what we say.”

I ignored his attempt at intimidation. “Nick tells me you kidnapped his sister.”

A gasp from Kerri. “Sweet little Faith?”

“What’s going on here, Muren?” Tebow asked. “You switching teams?”

“I was never on your team,” Nick said. “You wanted Spencer. Here he is. Now let my sister go.”

“Once we’re in the air with Mr. Garmond, we’ll make the call,” Blondie said.

“No good,” I said. “Call your boss now. Pastor Muren calls me back on your phone, tells me all is well, then I’ll go with you.”

“Don’t do this, Spencer,” Mr. S said. “You can’t negotiate with people like this. If you leave with them, we might never get you back.”

Tebow whirled around and bashed the butt of his Glock against Mr. S’s head. “I told you to shut it!”

Mr. S collapsed. Kerri cried out and crouched over her husband. Her hands were tied behind her back, so she could only talk to him.

I yanked my rifle to my shoulder and aimed the sights on Tebow. “Any more of that and you’ll regret it,” I said.

That got his attention. “You going to shoot me, boy? Do it. Otherwise, hand over the gun and the three of us will be on our way and leave all these nice, innocent people in peace.” He started toward us.

Drew lifted his gun and—blam!—shot a hole in the floor halfway between Tebow and me.

A beautiful shot.

And the sound… my ears might ring forever.

Tebow’s gaze fixed on the hole six feet in front of his sneakers.

While he was still reeling, I yelled, “Here’s what I want. You use your satphone to call the people holding Faith. You tell them to take her home immediately. They will leave your satphone number with Faith, and only when Pastor Muren calls that phone”—I pointed— “and only when he talks to Nick on that phone, and only when Nick tells me everything is good—will I leave with you.”

“That’s not all,” Nick said. “I want Kimatra and her kid too. Confirmation of all three of them delivered to my house before you get Spencer.”

I met Nick’s gaze and nodded. I’d forgotten about Kimatra’s kid.

“They’re not going to give back anyone alive,” Kimbal said. “Not if they can ID their captors.”

Tebow whipped his Glock toward the hostages. “I will shoot the next person who opens their yap!”

I nodded to Nick, who slipped outside to signal Lukas. “They don’t have a choice, Kimbal,” I said, “because we have the key to their plane.”

That pulled Tebow’s attention off Kimbal and back to me.

Any second now, Lukas.

“Newsflash, boy,” Tebow said. “I don’t need the key to start my plane.”

Beautifully, at that moment, the flying boat’s motor revved to life.

I grinned. “A key sure helps us.”

Tebow swore and ran across the dining hall toward the door.

The three of us kept our guns raised as we backed out of his way. Floor it, Lukas!

Tebow ran out onto the deck. I wished I could see the lake from here, but I could tell from his shrieking curses that Lukas had done good. Real good.

Tebow stalked back inside, face close to purple.

“They flew it?” Blondie asked.

“No.” He plodded across the room, back toward his partner. “But they drove it into the middle of the lake.”

That was my cue. “You have one hour to get Faith home to her parents,” I said. “Once I hear she’s safe—Kimatra and her kid, too—I’ll bring back your plane and leave with you.”

“Let’s just take the bush plane,” Blondie said.

“They moved both planes,” Tebow said.

“Then we take him in a boat.”

“And go where?” Tebow yelled. “They call for help and a chopper would pick us up before we reached the Big Su.”

“So, we have a deal?” I asked.

Blondie withdrew a phone from his pocket. “Let me make a call.”

 

 

****

 

 

I stayed put so I could hear every word Blondie said. I didn’t trust these guys, and I didn’t want any more surprises.

After he hung up, there was nothing to do but wait. And pray.

I prayed that Faith was okay and that she was getting delivered to her house right now. I prayed for Kimatra and her kid. I prayed that Special Forces would get here, but that they wouldn’t show up until Faith and Kimatra and her kid were safe. I prayed for perfect timing.

It didn’t take an hour. At my best guess, no more than twenty minutes had passed before the satphone rang.

Blondie answered. “Yes?” He set the phone on the dining table and slid it down the length. It stopped about two feet from our end.

“It’s for you,” I said to Nick.

He walked over to the table, lowering his gun. Drew and I shifted our positions to cover him.

Nick picked up the phone and held it to his ear. “This is Nick Muren.”

I watched for a change in his “I hate the world” expression. For a moment I thought maybe he only had that one look, but then he closed his eyes and choked in a strangled breath. “Okay, Dad … Thanks … Yeah, I’m okay … No, I can’t talk right now … I’ll be fine … Yeah, I … love you, too.” He set the phone on the table, then slid it back to Blondie. “She’s home. Kimatra brought her. She’s there with Rudy.”

Good. Real good.

“Our men are waiting outside your house to hear from me,” Blondie said. “Don’t give me a reason to send them back in.”

The reality of what I was about to do filled me with panic. What if they somehow managed to get away before help came? So many things could go wrong.

“Kid? What’s it going to be?” Tebow asked.

Mr. S, Kimbal, Kerri, Bill, Dusty, Chiklak, Nick, Drew . . . Everyone was watching me, waiting.

I hoped we could stall long enough for Mr. S and Kimball to get free and help us. If not… well, maybe it would be good, you know? To finally get this over with. Let Anya ask her questions. I didn’t have any answers, so I wouldn’t be very useful, no matter how many knives she waved in my face.

“Go signal Lukas to bring the plane back,” I told Nick. I handed my gun to Drew, who checked the safety and threaded the strap over his head and one shoulder so the rifle lay against his back. He did all this while keeping the handgun trained on the baddies.

“I’m going to walk out onto the deck,” I said. “You guys follow me out. Everyone else stays here. Drew, keep an eye on things.”

“I got this,” Drew said.

“No deal.” Tebow shook his head. “Muren and gun boy come out where I can see them. I’m not going to let them free everyone so they can come running to help. The hostages stay in here. Gun boy and Muren walk down to the dock with us.”

Well, he called that one. But they didn’t know the girls were waiting outside.

I tried to look ticked off, like they’d foiled our big plan, then I reluctantly nodded to Drew and Nick, and walked out, ignoring the protests from Mr. S and Kerri. I stopped on the deck, where Tebow quickly appeared beside me and lifted his gun against my chest while Blondie tied my hands behind my back. I flexed my wrists as much as I dared, hoping it might give me some wiggle room.

“Walk down to the dock,” Tebow said, prodding me in the arm with his Glock.

I took the stairs one at a time. I imagined that the girls were freeing the hostages this very minute and that Special Forces was almost here. Out on the lake, Lukas had somehow attached the rowboat to the Tebow’s plane and was towing it back to shore the hard way. I didn’t see where Gabe had hidden himself.

I reached the ground and took my time on the path, then walked slowly down the dock. I reached the end before Lukas did. Tebow stepped back, gun still trained on me. “I need to search him. Take the gun.”

Figs. Blondie set his computer on the dock, then took the gun from Tebow, who patted me down. He felt the matches in my sleeve, but couldn’t get to them with my hands tied. So he cut my wrists free and ordered me to start shedding layers. I went one layer at a time, as slowly as I could move, hoping my rescuers would show. My heart sank as I stripped off the matches and the ivory pocket knife. When I made it down to my compression shirt he let me stop, then tied my hands again. I shivered and twitched as mosquitoes buzzed around me, eager for a feast.

Tebow picked up the ivory knife that was still stuck to my T-shirt. “I’ll take that back,” he said as he pocketed the knife.

“Would have been disappointed if they hadn’t tried something,” Blondie said.

Tebow continued his search from my waist down. He tossed out my collection of socks, found Grace’s knife hooked to my shin and set about ripping off duct tape. I caught movement up by the lodge. Kimbal and Mr. S at the top of the stairs.

“Kick off those shoes.”

“Huh?”

“Take them off,” Tebow said. “Hurry up.”

I made a very pathetic attempt to comply. “It’s hard with my hands tied.”

“Just do it.”

Where was Special Forces? We were running out of time here.

I had just removed my second shoe when Blondie fired the gun in the air. Nick and Drew both dropped into a squat, but Blondie wasn’t looking at them. The girls and the grown-ups had been spotted. The girls and Kerri stood in a huddle on the deck just outside the entrance to the lodge, praying by the look of them. Dusty and Bill were halfway down the stairs. Mr. S and Kimbal had made it to the start of the dock. Both had their hands raised, palms forward. Neither were armed.

When the recoil faded, Blondie yelled. “Stay right there. You too, Liam!”

Who was Liam?

Tebow tucked Grace’s knife into his back pocket and narrowed his eyes at me. In a sudden movement that made me flinch, he reached for me and ripped off my cross necklace.

A few gasps from the group up at the lodge. I drifted out of my head a little, knowing I was in trouble but not wanting to panic.

Lukas took that moment to arrive, and as usual, the guy was two steps ahead.

Tebow abandoned me and climbed into the flying boat. He futzed around in the cockpit, cursed a blue streak, then almost broke the door climbing back out. Three fierce steps and he’d ripped the Glock away from Blondie and pointed it in Lukas’s face.

“What did you do to my plane?” he screamed, his face and neck flushed red.

The confused expression on Lukas’s face could have won him an Oscar. He pointed to the middle of the lake and spoke with a thick Spanish accent. “I just row it out there and back, señor. Is that bad for planes?”

“The instrument panel is all—I don’t have time for this!” Tebow slammed his gun against Lukas’s head, knocking him off the dock and into the water.

People went crazy. The girls screamed. Kimbal yelled. Mr. S ran down the dock. And Gabe dove in the water after Lukas.

Tebow trained his gun on Mr. S. “Stay right there.” When Mr. S kept coming, he shot. His bullet took a wedge of wood out of the deck.

Mr. S stopped.

Movement in the water behind me drew my attention. El McWilly bobbed up from under the dock, reached up to my foot, lifted my pantleg, and tucked a thin, black rock into my sock. Before I could do or say anything, he sank beneath the water again. Gone.

What the…?

I looked around. Tebow still had his gun trained on Mr. S. Gabe had Lukas’s head above water. He was awake, and a trail of watery blood ran down his cheek like he’d just picked off a leech. Nick and Drew were on their feet again.

No one had noticed El McWilly. And, while I could be mistaken, I was 99.999 percent certain that the kid had given me a flintknapped rock.

I wanted to kiss the little flintknapper.

The satphone rang then. I held my breath, hoping nothing had happened to Faith.

Blondie answered, “Yes?” He turned on the dock, peering past me and squinting. Then he grinned a grin of victory and my heart sank. “We’ll be waiting.” He ended the call. “Canton has an alternative ride for us.”

Something electrical started to hum. I looked around, trying to spot it. The screeching whir of an airplane starting up made it easier to zero in. It was coming from the airplane hangar where they kept the Twin Otter.

Mother pus bucket. We forgot about the Otter!

It rolled down the ramps and sloshed into the water. I could see Alcan’s bearded face in the cockpit. He steered the plane toward us.

“Don’t do this!” Kimbal yelled. “I will see you live to regret it.”

“Your threats mean nothing to me, Liam. It’s clear to everyone that you don’t know what loyalty is.”

I did not miss Blondie calling my uncle, Liam, as if they were old pals.

Who the figs was Liam? Some undercover code name?

The seaplane coasted up to the west end of the T. Blondie picked up his laptop, then ran down and grabbed the line to secure the plane. “Come on!” he yelled.

Tebow prodded me down to the end of the dock. The back passenger door opened. Alcan, the traitor, poked his head out and grinned, then went back to the cockpit. Through the open door I could see a couple of the wolf dogs walking around in the cabin. I ran through some last-minute worst-case-scenario escape plans. I could jump into the water, but with my hands tied, I might drown. Once I was inside the plane, I could open the roll door and jump out that way. Again, though, I’d be over water, and I’d have no time to use El McWilly’s rock on my bindings while I was floundering in the lake.

Tebow stopped me where Blondie stood before the plane, but instead of telling me to get in, Blondie said, “Knock him out.”

“I’m out of darts.”

“Use your fist,” Blondie said. “I don’t want any trouble on the flight.”

Whoa. I inched back a step, and the heel of my right sock snagged on the wooden dock. I didn’t want anyone punching me, not that I believed he could actually knock me out. “It’s not that easy to knock someone out,” I said.

“Don’t they teach you anything useful in your spy club?” Tebow asked. “When you hit someone so hard their brain bounces off the skull, it triggers a blackout. Like this.” He drew back, snapped his fist into my temple, and that’s all I remember.