Stratagems Page 4

  The garage reverberated with a high-pitched whine as sparks sprayed from the far corner. He turned and bolted for the kitchen, his leg catching the front bumper of Beth’s car, sending pain through his body. He stumbled along until he reached the door, setting Johnny down in the kitchen and looking back into the garage. Sparks were streaming from one side of the garage door. A small power saw was cutting into the metal.

  It was them, the ones who had been following him. There was no question.

  “Charlie, what the hell is going on?” Beth screamed, frightened.

  Charlie closed the door, securing the double-dead bolt. It would not buy much time, but maybe enough.

  He turned to Beth. “You must listen carefully to everything I say, okay?”

  “Charlie, please tell me what’s going on.”

  “Someone’s breaking in, as we speak, and they don’t care that we know about it.”

  “What are we going to do?” Beth’s voice became more panicked as the noise continued to echo from the garage.

  Charlie took Beth by the hand. “This way.”

  He led them all to the sliding glass door, grabbed the key again and quickly opened it. They walked out onto the porch, down the steps and to the back wall. Charlie looked left first, then right, suspecting that if they, whoever they were, were going to get into his house, they would likely come around the sides. His luck was holding. The yard was clear.

  Being the first full week of December, the grass had long since lost its brilliant green, slowly turning a light brown. The wind picked up and a chill ran through Charlie. He knew he had to get his family out. He could still hear the sound of the saw working its way into his garage. He knew they couldn't go out the side gate. It was wrought iron, stood eight feet high and the only key was hidden away in their bedroom, much like the gun had been.

  He looked over at Beth and the kids. They still had their coats on, but stood huddled together near the back wall looking at Charlie. Suzie was beginning to cry, sensing something was very wrong. Johnny stood by his mom with his arms wrapped around her right leg. Charlie took a deep breath, glancing around. They would have very little time, whatever it was he was going to do.

  He dashed over to the kid’s swing set, grabbed the ladder attached to the slide with both hands, and shook it furiously. It rattled easily on its frame. Maybe it would do. He started pulling on it, twisting it left, then right, repeating the rhythm several times. The fragile metal gave way, becoming more pliable as he worked it, finally surrendering to Charlie’s will as it separated from the swing.

  “Daddy,” Suzie yelled. “You broke my slide!”

  Beth leaned down. “Shush, honey. Daddy will fix it later, okay?”

  Suzie didn’t say a word, a sour expression on her face.

  Charlie took the ladder to the back wall and leaned it against the block. The wall itself was no more than five feet high, and on the other side was Mr. Penderton’s yard. Old man Penderton kept it immaculate, choosing to spend his retirement years doing nothing more than turning his small patch of earth into a piece of heaven.

  Charlie turned to Beth. “You go first, then I’ll send the kids over.”

  Beth nodded, taking the first step on the ladder. It sunk into the ground, just shy of an inch, and wobbled under her weight. Charlie reached up and steadied her as she stepped on top of the wall and hopped down the other side. Charlie lifted Johnny and handed him to Beth, then helped Suzie balance herself on the ladder until she was safely over, still holding tightly to her blanket.

  Charlie looked at Beth. “Go inside and call the police. I’ll be right back.”

  “Charlie, no. Get over here.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t, not now. I’ll come back out in just a minute. I’ll be alright.”

  “Charlie?”

  “Hurry, Beth, we’re running out of time.”

  Beth stood for a moment, staring at Charlie, holding the kid’s hands tight. “I love you, Charlie.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Daddy?” Johnny choked helplessly.

  “I’ll be right back,” Charlie said, and disappeared into the house.

  As he stepped inside, the whining of the saw stopped. He only had a few minutes. He rushed upstairs, not setting the alarm because he knew he would need the time to complete the mail upload. He retrieved the gun from his pants and placed it on top of the computer housed under the desk, out of the line of sight from the door. He looked at the screen to make sure he was still connected.

  Charlie heard a crash from downstairs. They had kicked in the kitchen door. He quickly moved the mouse over to the send button and clicked it. A dialog box opened on the screen, ‘negotiating with mail host.’ He waited and listened. There were footsteps down below. They were combing the downstairs first. It would buy a little time.

  He got up from his chair as he noted the message on the screen, ‘sending outgoing mail.’ A wave of relief swept over him as he tiptoed over to the far window that looked out onto the street below. He craned his neck as much as he could, straining toward the front of his garage. A white van had backed all the way against the house; he knew what they must have done. Backed in flush with the garage, they had either opened or removed the van’s back doors, assuming it had any, and started cutting. No one from the street would see and the clamor of power tools coming from a garage was the norm, so no one would suspect anything nefarious. Charlie wondered who they were. He had a suspicion, but no proof.

  He quietly made his way back to his seat, glancing at the status bar on the computer’s monitor. Eighty-percent complete.

  There were footsteps on the stairs below.

  They were coming.

  He turned his monitor away from the door, then swiveled his chair around to face the stairs. He reached for the gun, clutching it in his right hand, his index finger on the trigger, then hid both the gun and his hand behind his back.

  Ninety-percent done.

  His heart started beating hard in his chest as he spotted a shadow rising from the top landing. He sat still, looking. The shadow was slowly growing and soon someone’s head would appear. He thought, if he had the nerve, he could simply lift the Smith & Wesson and rid the guy of everything above his neck. He would be in the right, too, simply shooting an intruder. But if there were more than one, he would be dead and his children orphaned all in one instant.

  Soon he caught a pair of eyes gazing upon him. A tall man with auburn hair, looking directly at Charlie.

  “Come on up,” Charlie said, his hand still hidden from view.

  The man looked back, whistled, then ascended up the remaining steps. He stood at least six-foot-six, dressed completely in black. Black slacks, black shoes with thick rubber soles, a black long-sleeved shirt. His eyes were dark brown and he stared down at Charlie, seemingly confused, but still held a gun aimed directly at Charlie’s chest.

  His voice was deep and business-like. “We need you to come with us, Charles.”

  Charlie smiled. Not a smile of humor, but more of defeat, exhaustion, and perhaps a little vindication. He had been right after all. Someone had been tailing him.

  “You even know my name,” he said.

  Another man appeared. He was shorter, blond hair, sporting the same black ensemble. “We know more than your name. But there are a few things we don’t know.”

  Charlie glanced at the monitor. A small dialog box appeared in the center of the screen, a single display which seemed to make everything a little better – ‘one message(s) successfully sent.’ Even though they had a gun trained on him and two other men had since appeared in his doorway, he started to breathe easier. Regardless of what they did, or planned to do, someone else would know. Kyle would know.

  Charlie looked up at the four men. “Is it standard procedure to break into someone’s house for questioning?”

  The short one produced a little smile while the others remained emotionless, as if they had been trained to do so. “No,” he said. “But the
se are trying times, aren’t they? We can make it really easy. We take you, your computer and all your disks on a little trip to our office. We’ll have a chat, look over a few things, and then you’re free to go. Who knows, we might even pay for the damage.”

  Charlie smiled. “Who knows anything, ‘eh?”

  There was a strained pause before Charlie swung his right hand around, revealing the Smith & Wesson, quickly taking aim toward the blond leader. Their eyes widened in unison. The guy holding the gun on Charlie froze, the muscles in his arms tightening like cables, but he didn’t fire. The other two men drew their pistols as well, all pointed at Charlie.

  “Don’t fire!” the blond yelled, his eyes glaring into Charlie’s. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  Charlie continued to grin. “Oh, you bet.”

  He wheeled around, taking aim at his computer and fired a single shot. It rang out louder than he believed it would, the bullet entering through the plastic front cover, sending shards flying to the floor. The monitor flashed a couple of times and then displayed only a bright, white streak running across its center. He squeezed off a couple more shots into the computer, sending sparks and debris in all directions. When he fired the fourth shot, he felt a burning pain hit his chest as a bullet from one of the other guns penetrated his body. He wasn’t sure but thought he heard the blond order a cease-fire. Charlie had three bullets remaining.

  He lifted his arm again, pointing in the general direction of the computer, and squeezed off the final rounds. The hum of the hard drive died as the smell of burning electrical components and gun powder filled the room. Smoke wafted upward from the shredded remains of his system.

  Charlie let the gun fall to the carpet as he lay back in the chair, looking up to where the men were still standing, their guns drawn and pointed at him. His breathing became strenuous, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. He had never been shot before, and never imagined how intense the pain would feel. His body started to shiver and he coughed a couple of times, gasping for breath. The men slowly walked toward him, lowering the guns to their sides.

  Charlie looked to the leader who was directly over him, choking out one final word. “Surprise.”

  The man shook his head, looking down. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

  Charlie’s eyes fluttered a bit, the image of the men slowly fading into a blurred silhouette. He required all his strength to fill his lungs. He couldn’t help but think of Beth and the kids, standing on the neighbor’s lawn and hearing the gunshots. He hoped they were inside Penderton’s home, that they didn’t hear anything, that Beth had called the police.

  He allowed his eyes to close, remembering he hadn’t looked at his daughter’s scraped knee and wished he had. He wished he had kissed and hugged each of them one last time.

  At least they were safe.

  At least they would go on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Beth observed Charlie run into the house as the shrill whine coming from their garage abruptly stopped. She realized, as she gathered Johnny in her arms, that the intruders either made their way inside the house or had simply run off, maybe scared away by on-lookers or, if luck was on their side, the police. She could not be sure.

  She grabbed Suzie by the hand, hurrying up the walk that cut through Mr. Penderton’s manicured lawn. It was probably the only lawn in the neighborhood that still looked like a real, live lawn, as much as it did in July. She stopped at the door to the sunroom, peering in through the window. All seemed quiet. She tried the knob but it was locked tight. Johnny started crying and squirming in her arms, and Suzie let out a shriek, shook loose from Beth and ran back toward the wall.

  Beth screamed after her. “Suzie!”

  Suzie turned once and yelled, “Sneakers! I have to get Sneakers.”

  Beth set Johnny down, prying his hands from around her leg. He started bawling, sitting on the concrete and leaning against the door. Beth assured him she would be right back and ran after Suzie who was already at the wall, jumping up to get a good foothold. She almost made it to the other side as Beth reached out and grabbed the back of her jacket, pulling her back into Penderton’s yard. Suzie kicked and screamed as Beth tried to hold her tight.

  “Sneakers will be okay, honey.”

  Tears streamed down Suzie’s cheeks. “No. I need to go get her.”

  Almost on cue, a forlorn meow rose from the other side of the wall. Beth and Suzie peered over as they saw Sneakers let out one more cry before she leapt onto the wall’s capstone, sauntering a couple feet across the top as if there was no care in the world, then pouncing down and landing next to Beth. Suzie jumped from her mom’s arms and snatched up Sneakers, squeezing her tight and rubbing her face in Sneaker’s fur.

  “Daddy must have let her out honey.”

  Suzie looked up and smiled. “Good Daddy.”

  “Come on.” Beth put her hand behind Suzie’s left shoulder, leading her back up the steps where Johnny was still sitting, curled up in the corner where the sunroom door and the outside wall of the house came together. He sobbed silently, his thumb firmly planted in his mouth. Beth reached down and picked him up, his thumb not wavering.

  She looked in through the door and saw Mr. Penderton on the other side. It had been a while since she had come by with the kids for a visit. He looked older, more tired, and had an expression of confusion as he watched them standing in his yard. Penderton still had a full head of hair, greased like the style from several generations ago, combed straight back. His wrinkles were few, but he had developed a potbelly in the last couple of years. She heard the lock unlatch as he opened the storm door and pushed open the screen door.

  His voice was low as he spoke. “Is something the matter?”

  Beth took a deep breath. “Someone’s breaking into our house. I need to use your phone.”

  Mr. Penderton said not another word, but stepped aside as Beth swept past him with the kids. She walked across the sunroom to the French doors that led into the house, looking back once. Penderton was following behind, his steps slow and deliberate. She went through the den and into the kitchen, gently placing Johnny at the table where he had sat several times before. Suzie took the seat next to her brother’s, holding Sneakers tight so Nikki, Mr. Penderton’s old poodle, wouldn’t try to make a snack of her.

  Beth lifted the receiver, dialing 911 on the rotary phone. She figured Penderton was the only one in the 21st century who still used a rotary, which she knew he had to pay for an analog converter to continue using it. She could hear it ringing on the other end, then an operator answered with ‘nine-one-one.’

  As Beth started to relay the story and recite her address, she suddenly jumped and screamed as a lone gunshot echoed from outside. Fear ripped through her stomach, visions of Charlie racing through her imagination. The operator yelled for her to calm down, the receiver shaking in her hand.

  “A gunshot,” she screamed. Johnny and Suzie started crying again while Mr. Penderton knelt down to comfort them. “A gunshot just went off. I think from my house.”

  The operator remained calm. “We’ve already dispatched two units, so...”

  Three more shots rang out, all in quick succession and then another that sounded different somehow, like it was fired from a different gun. A moment of silence and three final shots, like the first, filled her ears. She fell to her knees, sobbing.

  The officer on the other end continued calmly. “Ma’am, stay on the line. We’re also sending a car to the house you’re calling from.”

  Tears flowed from Beth’s eyes. Penderton was also on his knees, an arm around each of the children, holding them close as they cried. Beth could hear the woman on the phone, but she seemed far away and distant. She closed her eyes, a vision of Charlie running out the back door, bullets ripping through his back, him blindly stumbling along before falling to the ground in a pool of blood.

  She staggered to her feet, laid the phone on its cradle, and stumbled toward the sunroom.
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br />   “Mommy!” It was Johnny. His little voice screamed louder than she could ever recall hearing.

  “Stay here. I’m checking on Daddy.”

  Beth’s tear-filled eyes made it difficult to see as she stepped into the backyard, looking toward her house. Everything appeared normal, the neighborhood now quiet. She managed to stumble down a few steps when she heard the squeal of tires. She couldn’t tell if the police had arrived, or maybe the intruders were leaving the scene, but she could hear sirens in the distance, getting closer. She walked across a few more stone pavers, getting closer to their back wall. The sliding glass door was now in view, open wide, the curtains waving freely in the breeze. It seemed surreal.

  The flash came before the sound. A bright, yellow burst filled the house. Brilliant colors engulfed the windows and sliding glass door. The force from the blast threw Beth into the air and backward, where she landed on the soft grass, knocking the wind out of her. She gasped for air but it seemed to be gone, sucked away toward their home to feed the fire that was now climbing into the sky. She lay on her back, looking up as the heavens turned from a light blue to a deep orange. Her ears were ringing, as if someone were clanging a cymbal near her head. When she finally caught a breath, her eyes fixated on the sky and the flames that seemed to soar into space. Yet now something was different. Flames were heading down, toward the ground, toward her. She sat up and saw a fireball of debris slam to the earth a few feet away.

  She let out a scream, scrambling to her feet. Flaming debris showered all around as she ran toward Penderton’s house. She could see all three of them, their faces pasted against the inside pane of the sunroom, gazing at their home caught in a massive firestorm. A stray piece of wood fell across Beth’s shoulder, knocking her to the ground. She felt the heat, but didn't know if she was actually on fire. She rolled in the grass, back and forth, as smaller glowing embers fell from the sky like a gentle snow.