Time Bomb Town - Chapter Eleven

In the basement, Dalton cut his father free. Together they rushed over to Wyatt and loosed him from his bonds. Carter checked his boy's eyes and slapped Wyatt lightly to keep him from passing out. 

“He's got a concussion, definitely.”

Suddenly the trapdoor in the ceiling, up the wooden stairs, opened. Leaving Wyatt where he was, Carter and Dalton faded into the shadows, Dalton still holding the thin razorblade in his hand.

Footsteps came down the stairs. Walking slowly. A person stood at the foot of the staircase and looked around. Dalton came out of the darkness of the corner and clocked him. He crumpled like a rotten cracker. It was Ziggy.

“Aww, no. Ziggy...” Dalton crouched down next to his fallen friend who was now lying on the floor next to Wyatt.

“What did you do that for?” It was Alina, coming down the stairs. She was followed by Beef who was carrying Veronic Vance.

“What...what are you all doing here?” asked Dalton.

Above them, the door slammed shut. They could hear a bolt slide into place, locking the basement tight.

Carter went up to Beef and took his ex-wife from the young man's arms. “Let me guess. Something went wrong with this plan?”

“Yeah...” said Beef. “Turns out Ziggy got played by the man with the golden nose. Fielding wasn't the mole. Turner was.”

Carter sighed heavily. “And the F.B.I?”

“Turner was the one who was supposed to call them, so I'm guessing they're not on the way.” Beef sat down on one of the big blue barrels. “You guys okay?”

“Wyatt's got a concussion...Maybe Ziggy too,” said Dalton somewhat regretfully. “How's mom?”

Carter was examining his ex-wife. “She's got a pretty bad bump on her head, but I think she'll be fine.”

“I don't get this...he beat us pretty bad. He anticipated our every move along the way,” Dalton was pissed. “This couldn't get any worse.”

“Midas is a genius, son. Don't beat yourself up. Let's work on getting out of here. Check how well that trap door is built.”

Dalton and Beef nodded, starting up the stairs but they stopped as the room suddenly got brighter. The sole computer screen, sitting on the card table, lit up. Midas appeared on the screen.

“My, my, my. Look at this. The Vance Clan back together. Touching. I've accomplished what three marriage counselors, two psychiatrists, a pastor and several lawyers couldn't do. Warms my heart. So hey! I'm leaving. But I wanted you to have a parting gift. Agent Vance...DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?” Midas waved his hand, indicating the entire room. “I know you're fond of 'timebombs' and meth labs are essentially just big timebombs! But a timebomb wouldn't be complete without a count-down! Here's your count-down! Buh-bye!”

Midas smiled, winked and waved. The screen shifted to a clock display, counting down from five minutes. Dalton looked at his dad and then ran up the stairs, throwing his shoulder against the trapdoor. It rattled and shook as he and Beef took turns pounding on it.

“I think...we can...bust this...open,” grunted Beef. 

* * *  

Midas and Turner stood in the hallway outside the little guest room that held the trapdoor leading to the makeshift basement. They watched as it rattled, being pounded on from below. Midas studied the hinges and the bolt. He looked over at Turner doubtfully.

“The helicopter will be here in a couple of minutes to take us to the airport. I'll have you handcuffed and stashed in Veronica Vance's office. That way you'll have an alibi for the entire time. They'll assume Carter was my man inside as we planned from the beginning, that I double-crossed him and killed him. Then we can get back to business as usual.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Turner.

“It is perfect. Except for one thing. I need you to do one thing.”

“What's that?”

“Go downstairs and kill them all.”

Turner frowned. “That seems unnecessary, what with the bomb and all.”

“They're pounding on the trapdoor. They'll have about two minutes after we leave, before the bomb goes off.”

“Can you just remotely detonate the bomb?”

“I...no...yes, I could but that's not the point. I still need the time for our helicopter to get safely away. I have no intention of getting blown out of the sky by a sympathetic explosion.”

Turner took this in. “Just...how big of a bomb are we sitting on?”

“I wired the whole house. Every room is filled with explosives. See the wires? Do you like how I labeled them with different color-codes for different rooms? It's a berry, berry big bomb,” Midas grinned insanely.

Turner started to sweat. “Okay. But I don't need to go down there to kill them.” He pulled out his handgun and fired several times into the trapdoor. The pounding stopped cold. “Problem solved. So...I think I hear the helicopter. Let's go.”

Midas stared at the holes Turner blew in the trapdoor. “All you did is weaken the structure. But IF YOU GO DOWNSTAIRS AND SHOOT THEM AND I BLOW THEM UP, I CAN BE REASONABLLY SURE THEY WON'T COME AFTER ME AGAIN.”

Turner stared impassively into the maniac's face. “Don't you have grenades or something?”

“You really want to throw a grenade down into the heart of a giant bomb?”

“I don't want to go down there at all. I want to leave.” The whir of the helicopter was growing to a roar.

“Wait here,” Midas stormed out of the room. He came back a moment later with an Uzi. “This should work fine. Now go.”

“You're out of your mind.”

“That's irrelevant,” Midas fired several bursts into the trap door. “There, now they're at the back of the room for sure. Just go down half way and spray the room.”

“What if the bomb goes off?”

“I'm pretty sure it... probably won't. NOW DO IT!” 

* * *

Next to the house was empty desert. A helicopter wheeled in for a landing. Per orders, the pilot kept the engines running and waited. But the noise brought people out of their houses into the street. 

* * *

Midas crouched by the trapdoor. He unhooked the latch and threw it open so Turner could descend. Turner fired into the darkness and cautiously stepped on to the staircase. Midas covered him from above and behind. Neither of them saw a hand rise up from darkness under the stairs. Turner didn't see the razor blade until it sliced through the side of his shoe, cutting a gash into the rogue agent's foot. Turner screamed in pain and pitched forward into the darkness, firing the Uzi as he fell.

Midas was disconcerted by this turn of events. Scrambling around he tried to swing the trapdoor shut. A spray of bullets cut into the walls and ceiling around him. He jerked back, turned and ran.

Carter Vance came out of the darkness, firing the Uzi. Blowing chips of wood and drywall into the air right behind Midas. Midas scrambled out the back door. Carter let him go.

Calmly, he hustled everyone out. Alina helped a groggy Mrs. Vance. Dalton helped Ziggy and Wyatt, while Beef, sporting two bullet holes in his shoulder, held Turner under control with a wrestling hold.

“Quickly. Get outside and across the street. Run. Go. Move.” He pushed them one-by-one out the door.

As they staggered out the front door, Dalton turned to his father. “Shouldn't we try to defuse the bomb?”

“Son. RUN. DON'T STOP RUNNING.”

Like drunken, fast zombies they made their way out into the neighborhood. Carter screamed at the neighbors coming towards them. “RUN! VAMINOS!”

The helicopter was just vanishing over the desert dirt hill as the bomb went off. The whole house exploded. Ronni's Lexus fireballed in the driveway, followed by Ziggy's mom's mini-van. The shock wave from the explosion blew out windows down the street. Everyone was thrown to the ground.

Ziggy stared back at the smoking hole. “My mom is so gonna kill me.”

Carter Vance laughed and staggered to his feet. He pulled Jack Turner up off the asphalt where he had fallen next to Beef. Vance punched Turner several times in the face.

Beef was watching the helicopter vanish from view. He knew which direction the 'copter was heading. “Mr. Vance. I think I know where he's going. I think I know where the helicopter is taking Midas. There was a Gulfstream being fueled at the airport.”

Carter Vance dropped Turner and looked where Beef was pointing. The helicopter disappeared from view. 

* * *

A beautiful Gulfstream Jet raced south through the night. Inside, Midas was sipping champagne. Several scantily clad women were draped around the cabin, hoping for his attention, but Midas paid them no mind. He was silently fuming. Using his tablet, he scanned through Wyatt Vance's Facebook page. Looking over family photos. He studied each one carefully before moving on to the next. 

* * *

Van Nuys Airport. A Gulfstream Jet taxied to the end of the runway where a full S.W.A.T. Team was waiting for it. Waiting as well were dozens of police cars and an F.B.I. Tactical Team. Special Agent Carter Vance stood next to Director Bob Fielding. They observed silently as the S.W.A.T. Team boarded the plane. The action took only about a minute. No one was on board.

The S.W.A.T tactical officer approached Fielding and Vance. He held up a piece of paper in his gloved hand. On it was written, I WILL ALWAYS BE TWENTY-FOUR MOVES AHEAD OF YOU.

“He got away...” Vance was furious.

“For a moment, for a moment, Carter,” said Bob Fielding, “But we have Turner. He's already asking for a deal. With the information he gives us, we will get Midas Jones. It's only a matter of time now.”

“Yeah...yeah, you're right. I'll get on the Turner interrogation tomorrow.”

“You will do no such thing, Carter,” said Bob. “You are on paid leave for the next month. Take those boys on vacation. You all earned it.”

“They're in school.”

“So take your ex-wife.”

Carter shot Bob a look.

“Hey, she's kind of a bitch, but she was always perfect for you.”

“Whatever Bob,” Carter pulled out his car keys.

“You're not driving. I'm taking you to the hospital.”

“Oh, for gad's sakes, Bob.”

“Quit your moaning. You're lucky I let you come here. Let's go.”

Carter and Bob walked toward the parking lot.

“You ever smoked your wife's weed?”

“Shut up, Bob.”

Bob laughed. 

* * *

Malibu. Wyatt and Dalton were sitting in the impact zone, bobbing up and down on their shortboards. Dalton had stitches running across his chest. He winced everytime the salt water hit the wound.

“Maybe getting married isn't such a bad idea.”

Dalton was surprised, “What brought about this change of mind.”

“Life's short, brother. Maybe shorter than we think. And Alina's a cool chick. When you guys thinking of doing it?”

“We were thinking after graduation in three years. But now...we're talking about running off to Vegas.”

“What? Are you...out of your minds?” Wyatt was really angry.

“I thought you'd like that idea. It's something you'd do.”

“I would never do that. For so many reasons, not the least of which is that it would hurt Mom and Dad deeply. And what about Grandma and Grandpa? Are you trying to break their hearts? Plus, I have given serious consideration to being your best man and it will be nothing less than total awesomeness. So Vegas is out, little brother.”

Dalton smiled and pushed his blond hair back away from his eyes. He strained upwards on his board and saw the next set coming in.

“OUTSIDE.”

He and Wyatt paddled toward the oncoming wave.