Without Measure: A Jack Widow Thriller Read online

Romey said, “What about his daughter?”

  I said, “Millie? I guess she’s been dead a long time now.”

  “You sure?”

  I didn’t answer that because on the one hand, I’d love to find out that she made it out alive. But on the other, I hoped that she was dead. I hoped that she had died a quick death, before the horrible things started to happen to a young British girl.

  Romey said, “I guess that’s why Malory jumped. Everyone else is dead. He wanted to complete the circle.”

  “Not everyone’s dead. Danner’s not. Not yet.”

  We stopped at the gate, which was a chain-link thing, with a guard hut in front of it, like the Marine base. But there was no guard on duty.

  “Everyone’s probably still at home. Still mourning for Mr. Danner, Sr.”

  I nodded.

  She asked, “Now what?”

  “Best I go alone.”

  “No way! You won’t let me go alone. So I’m not letting you. Not this time.”

  I said, “You sure?”

  “I’m already out on a limb. I need to see it through.”

  I nodded and popped open the passenger door and climbed out. Romey did the same. We stood in front of the car. I said, “Wish we had backup. Can you trust Kelly?”

  “Kelly?”

  “Yeah, call him. Tell him off the radio to help us.”

  “Forget that!”

  “You don’t trust him?”

  “I trust him. He’s a good Marine, but he’s been vying for my job. And he already doesn’t believe any of this. He’s more likely to arrest us first.”

  “Nah, we can’t wait to sort all this out. If Fatima is alive, then we need to get in there.”

  Romey said, “Plus, what if they are planning something with the ammunition?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, a dirty bomb or something?”

  I looked at the gate, but the road ahead wound into a sea of trees. I couldn’t see the plant. I only saw the lights in the distance.

  I said, “I guess they could use something in there for a bomb.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you? ISIS is basically controlling a weapons plant.”

  “Not really.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because the only thing that would scare me is if this was a nuclear plant. Or they had something nuclear in there.”

  “They might.”

  “No way. We got guys who log and check and monitor that stuff. The Department of Energy knows every little stick of uranium that’s in our borders. Believe me. They probably have a database of all of it on the planet. They’d know if there was anything like that here. Not to mention, the DOD, the FBI, and probably a thousand other organizations.”

  “What about something bio?”

  I thought about it a second and nodded.

  “They might?”

  “Anything is possible. We’d better get in there.”

  I walked to the gate and looked up at a surveillance camera that was staring back at me.

  Romey said, “Hope no one’s watching that.”

  “They probably aren’t. Everyone’s home. Day off, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Besides, this place belonged to Danner’s old man long before he got released. That means that ninety-nine percent of them are innocent. Maybe even a hundred. It’s hard to convince any old American to betray his employer or his country to join an ISIS terrorist.”

  “You think it’s just Danner in there?”

  “I doubt it. We know he’s got at least three guys with him, probably more.”

  Romey asked, “Who are they?”

  I shrugged and said, “Could be ISIS. Could be hired mercenaries. Either way they’re all dead men walking.”

  “We should take them alive.”

  “I’m not promising anything.”

  She nodded and didn’t mention it again.

  The gate was locked, but it looked like it was operated by a button inside the guard hut. The hut didn’t have any doors on it or glass for windows, which was good because we could just walk inside it. The bad thing was that the gate lock was operated by computer. That was locked and I didn’t have a password for it.

  Romey said, “What now?”

  “Guess we’ll have to break in the old-fashioned way.”

  “Climb the fence?”

  I turned to her and smiled and said, “We ram it.”

  CHAPTER 51

  BEFORE WE RAMMED THROUGHT THE GATE, Romey and I stood over her trunk, which we had just closed after rifling her weapons out of it. We laid what we had on the lid for inspection. We stared at them.

  I said, “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  We had two Glock 17s, Warren’s Millennium G2, and a beautiful Benelli M4 Super 90 semiautomatic shotgun. The latter was a fantastic weapon with incredible stopping power. I’d love to use it.

  She said, “Sorry.”

  She was saying sorry because the Benelli she had didn’t work.

  I asked, “Why the hell do you have that?”

  “I told you we are a training base.”

  “Are you being trained?”

  “Of course not.”

  I said, “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s not meant to be used.”

  “I get that. Why are you carrying it in your trunk instead of a real one?”

  “Don’t get mad at me. I didn’t know we’d be here.”

  “All right, then we have two Glocks and the G2.”

  “I guess so.”

  She said, “We can fool someone with the M4.”

  “As long as you don’t have to fire it, sure.”

  She said nothing.

  I said, “Just put it back in the trunk.”

  She did.

  We returned to the Mustang’s front seat and she revved up the engine, held the handbrake.

  Then in one quick burst, we rocketed toward the gate. The Ford Mustang with the Police ramming package on the front—quite a car.

  We rammed straight through the gate. The locking mechanism gave way under the car’s 777 horsepower.

  Romey didn’t stop. She kept the headlamps on low and floored around the winding drive.

  CHAPTER 52

  THE LEXIGUN COMPLEX was like any other small armament. The only real security was the outer perimeter. Once we were inside, the complex wasn’t like a big plant. It was industrial and monotonous. There were a few different service drives that zigzagged and intertwined through the complex.

  We drove the main one. Which happened to be dimly lit enough to light our way, but dark enough to not draw attention to us.

  We passed several brown and white buildings, with zero windows in sight.

  Romey said, “This place is so dull.”

  “Worse than a Marine base?”

  “Arrow’s Peak isn’t so bad.”

  She followed the longest, straightest road, which passed several other smaller buildings and parking lots. All empty of life, but we did see a huge loading area with trucks backed up to pick up outgoing shipments. Everything was off.

  I said, “Keep going. There must be a house on the property.”

  We drove for another three minutes and we found a thin strip that looked like a secret driveway. And it was. We saw a mailbox at the end.

  Romey said, “That must be it.”

  “The house is farther, behind those trees.”

  “What now?”

  “We walk. We can’t go up the driveway. It’s a single car width. They’ll see us coming.”

  She looked around and saw another pair of long hangars. She drove past them and parked in a gravel lot. We left the car and started to walk up the drive.

  I said, “Here, take the G2.”

  She looked at it and said, “You keep it.”

  “That’s unfair. I think you should have it.”

  She said, “It’s not fair now. I’ve got a Kevlar vest on. If I get shot, I’ll live
. Besides, you’ll need the extra bullets. I won’t.”

  I smiled.

  We made it halfway up the drive and we saw the house up ahead. It was a big two-story ranch-style house. There was a double-car garage with two vehicles in it and two more parked out front. I knew there were two in it because the door was open like someone had just gotten home and wasn’t planning on staying long.

  The vehicle on the end, closest to us, was a single cab white pickup. The tailgate was down and the bed was empty. There was a toolbox attached to the back.

  I looked at Romey and said, “That’s the truck I saw this morning.”

  “When?”

  “The big guy. From the diner. After Turik left.”

  “Maybe he’s here.”

  I said, “He’s here.”

  We continued up the drive.

  There were high roofs, which meant high ceilings. There might’ve been a basement. That wasn’t clear. There were lights on. Scattered about in different windows. The front door was a huge iron door that must’ve been ten feet tall. It was a double door, painted black. Two stained-glass windows about the size of my torso were on the upper part of each door.

  The house had a huge, grand fireplace. It was constructed of rocks and stones as big as my hands, which is pretty big. Smoke rose out of it.

  The house had outside lights that weren’t tied to motion sensors. But they were already on. We cast long and languid shadows back down the driveway behind us.

  There was a medium-sized porch with some stone steps leading up to it.

  We came to the top of the driveway. Romey set one foot on a stone and started to approach slowly up a stone walkway that led to the front door.

  I grabbed her arm and said, “Wait. Let’s check out the garage first.”

  “Okay.”

  I led her farther up the driveway. We walked alongside the pickup. Again I said, “Wait.”

  Romey stopped.

  We both had the Glocks drawn and ready to fire.

  I looked over the pickup. First, I looked into the interior and then back at the bed. I tried to open the toolbox, but it was padlocked.

  Then I tried the passenger side door. It was unlocked. I opened it and leaned in.

  Romey asked, “Widow, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Looking for help.”

  “What help?”

  I didn’t respond. I opened the glove box and found something promising. I found a forearm sleeve packed with eight shotgun slugs. I smiled.

  The forearm sleeve is like a gauntlet with eight slots for holding shotgun shells. This one was a black nylon and polyester mix with Velcro straps so that it could be adjusted to fit any size arm, even mine. I lifted it out and showed it to Romey. She smiled back at me like I had said jackpot without using words.

  I slipped the forearm sleeve over my left forearm. Then I leaned back out of the truck and looked on the floorboards and under the seat. I hopped back out of the truck completely and popped the seat off its latch and pulled it forward.

  I was met with exactly what I didn’t want. It was empty. There was no shotgun to put the slugs in.

  Romey said, “Check the other vehicles.”

  Which I did. There were two cars and one SUV. All three were locked, but I could see into all of them except for the trunks of the cars. No shotgun in sight.

  Romey said, “There’s gotta be some better firepower here somewhere. Their house is literally on the same property as their gun company.”

  I shrugged and said, “Let’s get inside.”

  “Which way? We shouldn’t go straight through the garage. Right?”

  I didn’t answer. I said, “Check the door.”

  Romey walked out in front and I readied the Glock. I aimed down the sights at the center mass of the door to the house.

  Romey crouched down low, out of my line of fire. She reached up and touched the doorknob. She looked at me and nodded.

  I nodded back.

  She twisted the knob and stopped. She looked back at me and shook her head. She said, “It’s locked.

  “Damn it!” I whispered.

  She rejoined me near the cars. I said, “We should try the back door.”

  “What if it’s locked?”

  “Then we bust in.”

  “They’ll hear us.”

  I said, “Then we go loud.”

  She nodded.

  I said, “Let’s go.”

  We walked out of the garage and around the side of the house. Romey had her flashlight in her belt, but we weren’t going to need it. There was plenty of light from the house to light up our path.

  The house was a beautiful house up close. The entire thing was constructed from rock and, what looked and felt like, real timber.

  The backyard had no fence.

  Romey and I circled around the side and stopped at the back corner. I was first, so I peered around the corner.

  The backyard was full of snowy trees and darkness. There was a long in-ground swimming pool. It was a long thing with two regulation laps roped off for swimming. The water wasn’t frozen solid, but I assumed it was icy cold. It was deep too. I couldn’t see the bottom. It was too dark.

  Close to the house was plenty of light, but the reach only went out about twenty feet. And then I saw nothing but darkness.

  I led the way and we walked to our first window with light coming from it.

  I stopped and looked in. The room was a large downstairs bedroom. I saw a made bed and chest of drawers and a closet. Nothing of interest.

  I led Romey past that window and we walked past several more large windows. No lights.

  We made our way to the back door, which wasn’t a door at all, but another slider. It was already open, like someone was enjoying the night air.

  We heard voices coming from inside.

  I stopped and signaled for Romey to do the same. We crouched down on our heels and she leaned toward me.

  I whispered, “Let me take a quick peek.”

  “Okay.”

  She stayed behind me and I walked over, slowly, to the open slider. I heard the voices. It sounded like all men and all were talking casually, like a group who were celebrating.

  I hugged the wall. The light coming out of the room didn’t look normal artificial light. I realized that as soon as I got right alongside the open slider because the light on the ground was crackling. It was mostly from the fireplace. That’s when I realized the reason I couldn’t make out clear words was because they had the fire going too.

  I tried to look in without giving myself away. I made a quick peek, not even a full second. It was just long enough to take a quick mental snapshot of the layout of the room. I moved in and whipped back.

  I closed my eyes and tried to picture what I had seen. I saw a huge, open room. There were high ceiling timber beams. I saw rock pillars. Far off in the distance, I saw a kitchen with two big islands. I saw a dining room table.

  I tried to picture the rest of the room. I had also seen couches, sofas, and chairs.

  I saw two guys seated. Both drinking beer. Both were talking and having a good time.

  I saw no one else in the room.

  Romey was behind me, waiting for my information. I snuck back over to her and said, “Two guys. Possibly armed, but no weapon in sight.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “They’re chatting it up.”

  “Like hanging out?”

  “Yeah.”

  She said, “These guys are already celebrating like they got the job done.”

  “Terrorists are just like anybody else. They hang out on their downtime, just like we do.”

  “They think they’ve gotten away with murdering eight people and now they’re hanging out drinking?”

  I shrugged and said, “It’ll make this part easy.”

  Romey said, “Let’s take them alive. I want the arrest.”

  I said, “I can’t believe it, but I think it might be that easy.”

 
“What about the others?”

  “I only saw two. I have no idea where the others are.”

  “Maybe they are in another part of the house. The basement.”

  I said, “Maybe, but it sounds pretty quiet in there.”

  “Maybe they’re out.”

  “They’ll be back.”

  Romey stood up and readied her Glock. She said, “Let’s arrest these idiots.”

  I nodded and said, “You lead the charge.”

  Romey smiled and we got into position outside the slider. She counted off to three with her lips and we charged in.

  “Freeze!” she screamed.

  The two guys on the sofa stayed where they were with horror and shock in their eyes all at the same time.

  Romey had screamed “Freeze” and that’s what they did. They were completely frozen.

  I walked close to them, only about two feet away and shoved the Glock in their faces. I asked, “Where’s Danner?”

  They didn’t answer.

  I called back to Romey and asked, “Is this him?” I pointed the Glock at the guy on the left.

  Both guys were young, very young. I would guess that both were mid-twenties. Which told me that neither of them was Danner because they wouldn’t have been old enough to have been involved in Malory’s story.

  But the one on the left was white and the one on the right was Arabic. Which also told me that most likely, the one on the left was closer to being Danner than the other.

  Romey said, “Neither one of them.”

  I grabbed the white guy by the collar and jerked him up off the sofa. Romey kept her Glock aimed square at the other guy.

  I asked, “How many more here?”

  He started shaking and said, “No one.”

  I hit him square in the face with the butt of the Glock. His nose broke and he winced and he grabbed it with both hands.

  He said something, but it was inaudible because of his broken nose.

  I said, “HOW MANY!”

  “One. Just one,” the Arabic guy said.

  Romey said, “Where’s Danner? Where are the others?”

  “They’re all out. They’ll be back any minute.”

  I asked, “How many of you are there?”

  The Arabic guy didn’t answer. I dropped my grip on the white guy and walked up to him. He remained seated on the sofa.

  I pointed the Glock into his kneecap and said, “How many?”