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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

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BOOK: Shooting Chant
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He nodded and mouthed the word “go.”

Without looking back, Ella slipped away. Sorrow
weighed her spirit down but this was bigger than Clifford or her. With death at her heels, she concentrated on the duty she had to see through. Ella eased down the hallway, and made it back to the warehouse and loading dock. Most of the armed men had moved farther into the building, packing up machines and equipment.

A brown step-van truck belonging to a delivery service had apparently just arrived.
It was angled sideways to the dock, with the engine running and the driver was talking to one of Morgan’s men.

Swallowing back her fear, Ella prepared to make her move. It was all or nothing now. If she failed, death would be the only winner.

TWENTY-FOUR

Keeping her pistol hidden, Ella confidently walked the length of the room and reached the edge of the platform without being noticed by the distracted LabKote employee and driver. Jumping off the dock and crouching low, she ran across the loading zone toward the truck, hidden below the level of the dock. A heartbeat later, she climbed into the vehicle, then moved quickly into the
rear cargo area. The large pallet of LabKote boxes there told her the vehicle had already been loaded.

Grabbing a small canvas tarp from a shelf, she spread it over herself and waited, huddled behind the driver’s seat, pistol ready.

Ella heard the driver climb in, and put the van into gear. Peeking out carefully, she waited, biding her time as the truck rumbled away. Next came the sound of the
gates being opened. The truck slowed slightly, then continued past the guards at the fence.

Waiting another ten seconds, she pushed the tarp away just enough so he could see her and the pistol. The driver jumped, but managed to control the wheel. “Whoa. What is this, a hijack?”

“No. I’m a police officer. I don’t know if you’re working with LabKote on this or are perfectly innocent, but if you
do or say anything to give me away, I’ll blow your brains all over the windshield.” She was taking no chances at this point.

“Hey, I’m cool. They don’t pay me enough to die for the cargo. Just tell me what you want.”

“Keep driving just like you’re going on with your business. And stay off the radio.” Ella waited until the driver pulled out onto the main highway, then joined him in the adjacent
seat. “I’m Officer Clah of the Navajo Police Department. Want to see some ID?” Ella asked, placing her pistol back into the holster. Her instincts now told her the driver could be trusted.

The driver looked over at her, managed a weak smile, then sighed. “No. Actually, I’m just happy to be alive at this point.”

“Head for the police station. You know where that is?” Ella saw him nod. “Relax,”
she added. He was a good-looking Hispanic man, but a bit pale at the moment. “You’ve done just fine so far. If you’ll just be patient a little while longer, you’ll find out what this is all about.”

She reached for her cell phone and dialed Justine. “My brother was kidnapped, but I know where he is. I also have all the evidence we need to move against LabKote. It’s bigger than we thought. The
operation is a front for terrorists, all right. I’ve taken over a delivery truck that has a shipment of hospital supplies contaminated with anthrax. I’m bringing it in, but that’ll be just the beginning of what we have to do. We’ll have to move fast. I don’t know how much time we have left.”

“Anthrax? What’s that?” the driver asked quickly. “Those are supposed to be lab supplies, not germs. Lady,
what are you getting me into?”

“Actually, I’m the one getting you out of something. Just drive.”

*   *   *

By the time she reached the station, Ella had a general plan. The driver was placed in protective custody while Neskahi, Blalock, and the Cloud brothers hurriedly unloaded the cargo, and locked it away in an empty cell. Afterward they met in Big Ed’s office and Ella quickly briefed them
on the situation at LabKote.

“I don’t think they know I was there, at least not yet, and even if they find the guard I took out, he won’t be able to swear Jimmie wasn’t responsible. He and my brother will cover for me for as long as they can, so Morgan and Landreth and their people probably are still working under the assumption that they have more time. But we have to move quickly. Senator Yellowhair
has already been killed, and unless we act right away, the body count is going to go through the roof.”

“How do you recommend we proceed?” Blalock asked.

“The truck that got me out can also get us back in. I know they’re expecting another pickup so, if our luck holds, when we show up they’ll assume everything’s in order. The bottom line is that we can’t afford to wait for reinforcements. We’ve
got to do something right now.”

“You’re too well known, Ella,” Blalock said. “The second the guard at the gate sees you, he’ll sound the alarm. I’ll have to drive while you hide in the back.”

“I agree,” Big Ed said, then looked at Ella. “You said there are possibly up to eight heavily armed men. But there’re only seven of us.”

“No, eight.” Sergeant Manuelito came into the room. “I overheard
the driver when he was being questioned. It’s what the tribe is paying me for. What do you say, Chief?”

Big Ed glanced at Ella. “This is your operation.”

Ella stood and nodded. “We need every experienced officer we have on hand. You’re in.”

“Good. Now can we go kick some butts?”

While they got ready, Big Ed had the dispatcher radio every available man to prepare to set up roadblocks and cordon
off the immediate area around LabKote, as soon as the assault team went in. No one would be leaving LabKote tonight.

Blalock contacted FBI personnel at the Albuquerque office, who in turn began notifying every postmaster and courier service within four hundred miles. No package from LabKote was to be shipped anywhere once it arrived at their facility from Shiprock. Every container was to be isolated
instead. The driver’s company was assured their man was okay, and told not to make any contact with LabKote.

Blalock was handed a fax just as they gathered in the lobby, and he read it to the group. “This is from Interpol. The man calling himself Walter Morgan is a suspected Middle Eastern terrorist. His family was on that civilian airline accidentally downed by the U.S. Navy several years ago.
Morgan must have killed the real Walter Morgan in Saudi Arabia and taken over his identity. LabKote is probably being funded by Saudi dissidents.”

Ella nodded, heading for the exit. “It makes sense now. But he’s already taken too many lives. It’s time to put a stop to him.”

Wearing bullet-resistant vests and packing assault rifles or shotguns and pistols, the team quickly climbed aboard the
delivery van. Justine, the Clouds, and Big Ed rode in the back where the cargo would have been, out of sight behind empty boxes. Ella was on the floor of the cab on the passengers side, under a tarp, while Manuelito and Neskahi took their place out of view behind the seats.

Blalock wore a baseball cap and the driver’s uniform used by the well-known courier firm, but something about him still
screamed FBI. Ella knew it, but maybe in the dark he’d pass as a parcel delivery man.

As Blalock drove away from the station, Ella reminded them all of one grim possibility. “If they have the cardboard boxes of lab supplies out on the loading dock, we have to make sure not to hit them with a stray bullet. We could blow anthrax bacteria all over the room and into the air, and if the loading dock
doors are wide open like they were, it could spread out into the community.”

After that, they rode in silence for most of the ten-minute trip, each officer lost in his or her own thoughts. No one had any illusions. Their lives would be on the line every second of the operation. Ella was wearing two vests now instead of one, but she knew her baby’s future as well as her own would depend entirely
on her skills and her ability to out think her enemies. Sadness enveloped her as she thought of Clifford, wondering what had gone through his mind when he’d seen her walk away. Would he ever understand and forgive her? If anything happened to him, his death would be on her hands.

As the truck turned onto the lane leading to the plant, she thought of her mother and what would happen to her if
either she or Clifford didn’t make it. Rose would understand duty, but whether or not she could learn to get over the loss was another matter.

“We’re approaching the gate. Now’s the time to lock and load, and say your prayers, folks,” Blalock muttered.

Blalock stopped by the gate and the guard came over and shined a light in his face. No one moved or made a sound as the beam traveled over the
tarp. Ella held still, her pistol out and ready.

“Brother, you’ve got a pigsty for a cab. Been on the road long?”

“Yeah, too long,” Blalock muttered sourly. “Damned graveyard shift. Now I’m behind schedule. You’d better let me get loaded or your packages won’t make the airplane out of Albuquerque before tomorrow night.”

“Okay, okay. Just follow the driveway around to the other side of the building
and stop at the loading dock.”

As Blalock drove through, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried he might want to step into the truck and look around,” she whispered. “Good job, Dwayne.”

“Our luck just ran out. Just before we got to the gate, I caught a glimpse of the loading dock. It’s lit up like a Christmas tree, and there are at least four guards with shoulder weapons. No way we’ll
have more than a few seconds before they realize what’s going on.”

“Then we’ll have to flank them,” Big Ed said. “Slow down before you go around the corner of the building and Shorty and I will get out. She still has Jimmie’s card key, so what we’ll do is circle around and enter through the utility room door. You can buy us some time by making a big production about backing in. Take at least
two minutes trying to line the van up. Make it look like you’re sleepy, drunk, or just a lousy driver. Maybe even kill the engine once. Then back into the dock on the left side so you’ll have more cover and keep the truck at an angle so everyone can get out on their blind side.”

“I’m going to cut the corner close so the building will shield you and Ella when you get out,” Blalock said, slowing
down.

Big Ed and Ella jumped out and ran to the side gate, which was out of sight from the dock and the main entrance. Using Jimmie’s key card and his number code, Ella and Big Ed slipped through the gate and into the building. It was quiet, and they saw nothing but an empty corridor ahead of them. “I’ll go for the hostages while you find a position that’ll let you cut off their escape through
the building,” Ella whispered as they jogged down the hall. “Once I get the hostages out, I’ll back you up.”

“I’ll keep them pinned down, don’t worry. With the others attacking from the dock and me coming from behind, they won’t have a chance to do much except hide.”

They hurried through another corridor, covering each other in turn as they rounded each corner, and smashing surveillance cameras
as they advanced. They’d almost reached their objective when the sound of gunfire erupted outside. Big Ed took his position at the door leading into the warehouse.

“If they try to come back through this way, I’ve got them. Now get ready to move, Shorty.” As the gunfire continued from the warehouse, he dropped to one knee, combat style, and braced his arms in firing position. “Go. I’ll keep them
pinned down while you get your brother and the other hostages.”

“I hope Jimmie’s still alive.”

“So do I. And, Shorty, everyone still alive leaves with us or we all stay. Clear?”

“Agreed.” They were in this together. “Here goes.” She opened the door and darted across the room, gunfire drowning out her footsteps.

Ella ran across the warehouse as fast as she could, hoping her own people wouldn’t
shoot her. She’d almost made it to the other side when Big Ed opened fire. There were screams and angry shouts as the suddenly exposed guards went down or sought cover from the unexpected rear assault.

Ella raced down the hall toward the area where she’d last seen her brother, hoping they were still there in that storeroom. Despite the gunfire, which she’d hoped would keep the guard distracted,
the man was still at his post when she arrived. He fired a shot the moment she peeked around the corner, but it struck the wall behind her.

Ella dove to the floor and rolled, bringing her shotgun up and returning fire as she came to rest. She aimed for his head, assuming he’d be wearing a vest, and didn’t miss.

Averting her gaze from the nearly decapitated corpse, knowing there was no time to
lose, Ella scrambled to her feet. She peered into the room through the small glass window in the door, but she saw no one inside. Swallowing back her fear, she found the right key within two tries and threw open the door.

Clifford, Jimmie, and Ernest Ben were behind a large table they’d upended to use for cover after hearing the gunfire. Ella approached, never turning her back to the door.

“We have one man wounded here,” Clifford said, speaking of Jimmie, who lay unconscious beside him. “He’s lost a lot of blood. I’ve done my best to stop the flow, but without my herbs…” he let the sentence hang.

“Where have you been?” Ernest demanded staring at Ella angrily. “Why did you leave us here? You just ran off!”

“We can discuss this later. For now, let’s get out while we can.”

“Jimmie
can’t be moved. I’ll stay here with him,” Clifford said. “Loan me a weapon so I can ward them off.”

“No.
Nobody
stays behind,” Ella said, looking out into the hall and hearing a new burst of gunfire from inside the warehouse. “Help my brother carry him,” she ordered Ben.

“You’re crazy. He’ll just slow us down.”

“I’ll shoot you myself if you don’t do as I tell you.” She reached for the guard’s
pistol, which lay beyond the growing pool of blood.

The sight of the dead man seemed to wake Ben up. He stared at her in surprise, and then went to help Clifford. Her brother’s face was expressionless.

“Big Ed is keeping the others from coming back this way, but he’ll need help.” She handed the guard’s pistol to her brother. “I know you won’t shoot to kill, but feel free to worry as many of
them as you like. Clear?”

BOOK: Shooting Chant
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