Higgins Read online

  “Priority one is the device,” Johnson said. “It could be inside the cabin.”

  “Could just as easily be outside,” Higgins said.

  “Either way, we can’t go looking for it without making sure no one else is patrolling the woods.”

  “If we waste too much time with the guards,” said Abrams, “we could end up missing the window with the bomb.”

  “We have three hours,” Johnson said dismissively

  Abrams let out an impatient breath. “From when? When we left the tower? When we first saw the agent? When we set foot on the mountain? We could already be too late.”

  “Then we’re gonna have to split up.” Johnson turned his glare back on Higgins. “If we take out the guards, do you think you can handle searching the perimeter for the device?”

  Higgins’s skin prickled with anticipation. Wiping the attitude off Johnson’s face would give him a particularly strong sense of satisfaction.

  “I’ll get it done.”

  “I mean without blowing us up or giving us away or—”

  “I said I’ll get it done.” Higgins shot the man a look square in the eye. Confident determination wasn’t his usual stripe in this arena, but it growled from his throat nonetheless as if coming up from some unexplored depth of the soul.

  “You worry about your own ass,” he added.

  Chapter Twenty

  Johnson held this little shit’s gaze. He thought of a half a dozen comebacks, but now was not the time. No, there’d be plenty of time to put the weasel college boy in place.

  He loathed having to rely on someone who had yet to earn their place on the team, but this Higgins took the cake. Yeah, he’d been first to complete their initial exercise, but any respect Johnson had gained for him had gone out the window with the umpteen times his feeble body had slowed them down on this mission. It was pitiful; it was disgusting.

  “What’s the plan?” Abrams said when they had found a better vantage point.

  “Flank these guys, then work our way out and around,” Johnson said. “I didn’t see any radios, so they probably switch on shift. If we’re lucky, we’ve got some time before anyone notices they’re gone.”

  “If we’re lucky?”

  “Let’s just assume the worst and make quick work of everyone,” he said.

  The idea of combat sent the juice through his veins. The aches in his muscles were gone, replaced by the buzzing of adrenaline and bloodlust.

  He looked back at the two enemies. They were holding rifles and wore masks. Neither looked bigger than him, though they might’ve gone pound for pound with Abrams. The guy could be a pain in the ass goody-two-shoes, but he was obviously scrappy in a fight.

  “I’ll take the guy on the left, you take the guy on the right?” Abrams suggested.

  Johnson nodded, feeling his limbs begging to lead the charge, and retreated further into the woods. He circled around until he was on the far side. He watched the enemy for a moment, noticing the way their gaze roamed the trees, the way they didn’t move far from their allotted positions. Every once in a while, one would turn to the other and say something, eliciting a chuckle.

  They’re bored, he thought. That meant they were just dying for something to shoot.

  Before Johnson could ponder the moment any further, another pair of masked guards trotted forward and relieved them.

  So that’s why they were bored. Their shift was over.

  “Any activity?” one of the newcomers said.

  The old guard closest to Johnson shook his head. “Nada.”

  “Boss wants you back inside for ten and then to do a sweep. They’re close.”

  Abrams overheard one of the guards murmur, “Roger that,” as the two old guards walked away.

  Johnson peeked around the tree he was hiding behind. He tried to spot Abrams on the far side, but the cover was too dense. He figured they were far enough away from the cabin that their gunshots wouldn’t be heard amid the sounds of the forest. But they’d still have to time it perfectly, so that the guards went down simultaneously. Otherwise, there was a chance one of those pissants could raise the alarm.

  No sooner had he let that thought pass through his head, Abrams sprinted from the forest, took a knee, and shot the guard closest to him in the shoulder. The guy let out a curse, looked down at the paint on his arm, swore again, and fell to the ground.

  Abrams, you reckless turd.

  By the time the other man fell, the second guard had his gun trained on Abrams. Johnson, recovered from the shock of Abrams’s reckless move, got the man in his sights and popped off two shots, hitting him square in the back. The guard let out a yelp of surprise, turned and locked eyes with Johnson, then slowly resigned to the defeat and lay down next to his buddy.

  Johnson strode forward and got in Abrams’s face. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m doing my job,” Abrams said. His grip tightened around his gun, but he didn’t raise it.

  That very motion made Johnson want to throw his own gun down and throttle the bastard. After all Abrams would be an idiot to shoot Johnson now, which made the move nothing more than a needless show of aggression. He had no choice but to shake it off. He’d get Abrams some other time. After he’d gotten a chance to clobber Higgins.

  He jabbed a finger in the bastard’s face. “You went early. You almost got us caught.”

  “You came in late,” Abrams said. “I waited for a signal that never came. So I made a decision.”

  “A stupid one.”

  “No, a decisive one. We don’t have a lot of time, in case you forgot, Johnny Boy. We need to clear the area for Higgins.”

  The very intonation of the name sent his blood boiling. “Higgins is going to get himself shot sooner or later. It might as well be now that the penalty won’t make much of a difference.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re not much of a team player, Johnson?”

  Johnson turned back to the fake dead man at his feet. “We need to get them into the woods before the others see them.”

  Abrams gave him salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Johnson unceremoniously dumped the man against a tree far enough into the woods where he figured he wouldn’t be spotted, Abrams close on his heels. They decided to swap clothes with the guards. The ruse wouldn’t last long, but maybe long enough to take down a few of the guards who were bound to be outside the cabin.

  “What’s next, boss?” Abrams’s carefree tone sounded more forced than usual.

  “I assume the cabin will be surrounded. Guards out back and in front. Won’t know how best to take it until we’ve got eyes on it.”

  Abrams gave him a look and hefted up a third gun. “Would be nice to have someone in the trees while you and I do the heavy lifting. Someone watching our backs.”

  Johnson waved him away. “Don’t say it. He’s useless.”

  Abrams shrugged. “Just give him a gun and tell him to shoot anyone who isn’t us. Kind of hard to mess that up.”

  “Higgins will find a way.”

  “You’ve gotta give him a break, man.”

  Johnson felt the tips of his ears heat up. “Life isn’t going to give him a break. Zyga definitely won’t. Why do we have to play with kid gloves when he’s around? He’s not qualified to be here.”

  “If he weren’t qualified, he wouldn’t be here.” Abrams sighed. “And I don’t think anyone is using kid gloves. Al’s smart. He might be green, but he’s got determination. You know how far that can take someone.”

  “And you know determination doesn’t mean jack squat if you’ve got no skill to begin with. Now that’s enough out of you, Abrams.” He paused, allowing the anger in him to well again. “You know, you got a helluva nerve accusing me of not being a team player.”

  Abrams had the beginning of a smile on his face. “I was wondering when that would get to you.”

  “Wipe that idiot smirk off your mug.”

  A branch snapped off to their left, both whirled arou
nd and trained their guns on the direction the noise had come from.

  It was Higgins, looking lost and completely missing the fact that the two of them weren’t more than twenty feet away from him.

  Johnson stood up, knowing he looked like one of the guards they had taken down. He wasn’t about to shoot Higgins, as tempting as that might be, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t scare a little sense into him first.

  Higgins, at least, had the sense to cover his startled yell with his hands.

  Abrams yanked down his mask and held up a hand. “It’s us.” He shot Johnson an annoyed look. “It’s just us.”

  Johnson got in Higgins’s face. “You’re supposed to be looking for the explosives. If we’d been the real deal, you’d be dead right now.”

  Higgins was panting. He didn’t seem to care about almost getting caught. “I found it.”

  Abrams slapped him on the back. “That was fast! Good job.”

  “Fast, yes,” Higgins said. “Good, no.”

  “What do you mean that’s not good? You did find it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, yes.” Higgins pushed his glasses higher up on his nose. “But we have a problem.”

  “Let me guess,” Johnson said, “you don’t know how to disarm it. Not like I saw that coming from a mile away.”

  Higgins opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He snapped it shut and just looked between them.

  “Spit it out,” Johnson growled. He’d just about had it with this punk.

  Higgins sighed. “I don’t think the device is a fake.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Anyone who attempted to make a frontal assault on the cabin would trip the wire and set off the explosive. The bomb was merely another line of defense, as well as an early warning system.

  It had taken less time for Higgins to find the device than he would’ve thought, but proving Johnson wrong seemed to be the perfect motivation. He had kept his eyes to the ground, not sure what he was looking for until he found it. The trip wire had been well-hidden, but the device itself wasn’t concealed half as well, appearing as though someone had thrown it all together on the fly. But if this was part of the exercise, wouldn’t they have had ample time to get it right?

  Abrams knelt down at the device while the other two looked on. He ran his hand over the outside of the compartment and then traced his fingers along the exposed wires.

  “Looks like your run-of-the-mill pipe bomb,” Johnson said.

  “And a hefty one at that.” Abrams scratched his head and stood up. “The problem is that it shouldn’t be armed with real explosives.”

  “Who the hell would plant the real deal?” Johnson asked.

  Higgins scanned the forest slowly. “And is there a second one? A fake one, like we were expecting, or a replica of this one?”

  Abrams looked up at Higgins. “Do you think you can dismantle it?”

  Higgins followed the wire back to its source. After he’d determined that eliminating the tension wouldn’t blow them to kingdom come, he disconnected the trip wire from the tree where it was lodged and slowly wound it up until he was standing in front of the device again.

  “Well, at least that’s one trigger eliminated.” He scratched his chin. “I’m not sure I can do this. We need to detonate it to guarantee it won’t hurt anyone.”

  Johnson held his arms out. “We don’t have anything to do that with. We’d need something like C4 and a remote detonator.”

  “We can always tell the agents,” Higgins suggested. “They can stop the exercise and get someone out here.”

  Johnson took two strides forward. He looked like he was going to strike. “We’re not stopping the exercise.”

  “Calm down, man.” Abrams stepped between them. “I know you like winning, but this is real. I’m not entirely sure it’s even supposed to be here. It can’t be part of the program.”

  “You don’t know that,” Johnson said. “Maybe it’s part of the test.”

  “What test? Disarm it, you win – trigger it, you die?”

  Johnson growled and parted a way through Higgins and Abrams. When he leveled the gun at the device, Higgins had a kneejerk reaction to run toward Johnson and stop him. But it was all for nothing.

  Johnson fired a circle of shots around the bomb, making sure to steer clear of the actual device. A ring of yellow now outlined the bomb, making it noticeable to anyone who came near it. Higgins hoped they were far enough away that no one heard the sound.

  “Anyone who doesn’t see that and ends up setting it off deserves what they get.” He glanced up at the sun. “We don’t have much time left. Abrams, circle around back and guard the rear while I take out the men out front. Then meet me inside. Higgins, find that other device and disarm it.”

  Abrams handed the third gun to Higgins. “Only use this if you must.”

  Higgins opened his mouth to protest, but a sharp snap to their right made all three men spin around in that direction. Johnson and Abrams pointed their guns at the sound.

  Another guard clad in black held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

  When no one else moved, he slowly lifted his hand to his face and tugged down his mask. It was Kinkaid.

  “Congrats on making it this far, guys.”

  “What the hell?” said Johnson, his voice wracked with fatigue and paranoia.

  Kinkaid gave an embarrassed shrug. “I needed to take a piss. Should’ve done it closer to the cabin, but if I’m being honest, I’m bored out of my mind. Wanted to stretch my legs.”

  “Should we shoot him or take him hostage?” Abrams asked.

  “Whoa, whoa,” said Kinkaid. “Look, Zyga assigns extra work to every agent who’s taken down by a candidate. It’s twice as bad for the instructors. I didn’t even want to be out here to begin with, but I think the guy has got it out for me.”

  “It’s a trick,” Johnson said. “We let him go, he’ll tell them we’re this close. Shoot him.”

  “No, wait. Please. I told them I was doing a perimeter check. They’re not expecting me back for another twenty minutes at least. I’ll walk further out and swing around. You won’t even know I’m out here.”

  “Then give us your gun,” Johnson said.

  Kinkaid looked down at his weapon and then back up at the group. “You know Zyga will ask me where it is and will want to know what happened.”

  “Sorry, man,” said Abrams. “But we can’t trust you. We gotta take you out.” He raised his weapon.

  “Hold it! I’ll tell you how many are stationed around the cabin, and how many are inside.”

  “Better yet, tell us what we need to do once we’re inside,” Johnson said.

  Kinkaid seemed to consider it, but he shook his head. “Too obvious. Besides, you guys are a good team. You’ll be able to figure it out. The best I can do is tell you how many guys are out there. That’ll give you a leg up.”

  Johnson and Abrams exchanged a quick look. Abrams shrugged, and Johnson narrowed his eyes. “Deal.”

  Kinkaid didn’t lower his arms until after he gave them everything they needed to know. Once Johnson was satisfied, Kinkaid turned on his heel and marched back into the woods. Higgins wondered if that had been another test. But if it had, Kinkaid should be an actor, not an agent.

  “We could’ve told him about the bomb,” Higgins hissed.

  Johnson glared at him. “I’m not stopping this exercise until we win it. There’s no way anyone is gonna get hurt unless they deserve to. Let’s go.”

  Without another word, Johnson crept off toward the cabin. Abrams gave Higgins an apologetic smile, then slinked after him. They were off to do what they did best.

  Higgins turned back to the device. He didn’t like leaving it in the middle of the forest like this despite Johnson’s shoddy warning system.

  A chill ran up the back of his neck, forcing the hair to stand on end. He shuffled away from the device, knowing that sitting there and staring at it was only going to increase his chances of getting blow
n away.

  He began to make slow circles around the perimeter of the cabin, moving away from the central point until he stumbled across the device they were actually supposed to disarm. When he finally found it, Higgins breathed a sigh of relief. This one was definitely fake.

  Whoever had rigged the dud had purposefully made it look like a Hollywood prop. Two small tanks of yellow paint sat on either end of a container covered in wires. There was a large timer on top, ticking down the minutes until detonation. They had twenty-nine left.

  Higgins knelt in front of the device and pried open the face of the bomb with the care of a mother bird feeding its young. Inside, most of the wires went nowhere, but its creator decided to go with the classic red versus green debate. Which wire should he cut?

  In the distance, Higgins heard the pop, pop, pop of several gunshots and hoped that was Johnson hitting his targets, and not the other way around. The urgency of it all made him tremble. If he didn’t disarm this bomb right away, he wouldn’t be there for the interrogation. Whether or not he’d be disqualified on those grounds was almost beside the point. He wanted to make sure Johnson’s hotheaded ways didn’t get them all into trouble.

  Higgins felt that all-familiar click when his brain shut out every piece of irrelevant information. He no longer heard the birds singing in the trees around him or felt the heat of the sun through the canopy. The prickly needles underneath his knees no longer bothered him. It was just him and the bomb.

  With systematic precision, he began removing all the colored wires that would have no impact on the detonation of the device, carefully twisting and plucking them from their sockets. He made a pile next to him, laying them out in order, building himself a little rainbow of wires until he was left with only two.

  A pair of wire cutters would’ve been handy, or even Abrams’s knife, but Higgins hadn’t thought of asking for it before they had left him to deal with this problem on his own. It didn’t matter. This device was made to be disarmed. It was another hitch in the team’s plan, but it wasn’t meant to totally derail them.