Dead Men’s Path(Prologue)
“For the love of my country,” Sarah whispered through her gloves, which she was using to cover her face. The cold was biting through the thick leather of her Winter wear. She gritted her teeth to stop them from clapping repeatedly and scanned the road. There was no one in sight. She had come early as was her habit. Being just in the right place at the right time was the reason for her rise in the FBI department and also the reason for her pay rise. She was one of those agents they could not risk doing without.
What Sarah had to do tonight was pretty regular. Well, for her anyway. She was going to snatch a senator of the United States of America. There are many answers he might know.
Sarah? Are you there?
Sarah’s hand instinctively went to the mic in her ear.
A car is coming. 9’0 clock, no headlamps.
Sarah glanced towards the direction, squinting so she could see better. She made it out, a ghost of a car, sneaking across the deserted road. It moved as a stealthy human would, making not the slightest of noises.
“That’s some car,” Sarah muttered.
The car pulled to a stop and vomited the passengers.
“Bummer, it’s our man,” Sarah said.
She was expecting someone else. Well, the two are late anyway, their man and the person they were expecting. They needed a talking to. She knew she did not need to tell anyone to stay out of sight. They stood around staring into the darkness. Sarah had noticed that immediately the car stopped, two or three of the men—their men—had run into the darkness to take up strategic positions. They moved so fast that if she had not known the drill, she would not have seen them move.
In exactly five minutes, another car slid up the street, headlights piercing through the dark. The senator’s car stopped some distance from the car already parked there. A man moved away from the other car and approached the senator just as he stepped out of the car. The two men shook hands and spoke in low tones, as they moved away from both cars. Sarah’s trained eyes followed them. She could not hear a word. The discussion did not take much before they parted.
The senator walking towards his car with a suitcase and the other man walking briskly to his car. He walked slowly and raised his hand to his ear, scratching it. That was the signal. Sarah leaped out of her hiding place and rushed at the senator. A strong headlight beamed onto the stage, momentarily stunning the senator. He dove for his car.
“Stop right there and raise your hands,” Sarah’s voice boomed. “You’re surrendered. Make no sudden movement, Senator Drinkwater.”
The senator’s eyes popped into his head at the mention of his name. He suddenly turned and flew towards his car.
“Shit,” Sarah muttered.
The car burst forward towards Sarah. Her gun had been trained on the front tire to put it out of the reckoning. A dangerous move. She leaned out of the way fast, tumbling into the darkness.
“He’s getting away,” she shouted.
The sound of their own car engines responded. As the senator’s car rounded the bend, three FBI’s SUV’s followed in hot pursuit. The last one screeched to a halt beside Sarah. The door flung open. That was all the invitation Sarah needed. She sprang into the passenger seat just as the car sprang forward. The door banged shut on its own.
“That was pretty close,” Agent Shaw said, his eyes on the road, watching the car give chase through dark sunglasses.
The sunglasses, Sarah thought. What’s Shaw’s deal with glasses at night? The car screamed in annoyance as the object of its pursuit rounded another corner out of sight.
“Well, the motherfucking senator has a damn good driver,” Shaw observed.
Sarah said nothing. She wondered what she was going to tell her superiors if they failed to get the senator. He was to be used as their bait to get other big fishes, but the old man thought running was better. Her fingers flexed around the grip of the gun that was still in her hand. Shaw looked down in time to see them.
“You could have taken the shot, you know.”
Sarah ignored him again. Yes, she could have. She did not know what came over her at that time. It was not fear, she was used to being in a situation of life and death. Fear was out. Maybe a little concern for the senator who took bribes and tried to pass laws that would favor the greedy businessmen in Tennessee. The man looked frail and too delicate to be meddling in things like this.
A big explosion lighted up the night. The first SUV had been hit by a bullet flying out from nowhere.
“Damn,” Sarah cursed.
Shaw had already stamped on the break. The car responded slowly, sliding till it hit their second SUV.
“Out!” Shaw screamed.
Sarah barely had time to pull open the door and leap out quickly, before another bullet hit the second SUV and hers simultaneously. Both cars screamed in agony as they exploded and burst into flames. As she was thrown into the air, Sarah made out the moon, hiding, cowering behind the clouds while the destruction went on below. She hit the road with force and rolled to the side, where she lay, struggling to catch her breath.
“Make sure there’s no one left,” a voice instructed.
Sarah barely heard it through all the ringing sounds going on in her ears. She groaned and rolled over, into the gutter where she blanked out. She did not hear Shaw’s struggle as he struggled to get on his feet and run away before the men saw him and she did not hear the staccato burst of gunfire that brought him down, spilling liquid from his body. His shouts were lost to her.
The initial reports of the gruesome attack on 6th Street, Tennessee, said there were no survivors. The senator could finally breathe freely.
READ: KINDLED FIRE
Samuel Ogechukwu thinks of himself as a writer, a superhero, a songwriter, the prince in shining armor for some lady in his fairy tale. He believes this too, because well, his stories are his, and he can be anything in every one of them.