The Rapture of Omega Page 20

  Chapter Forty-One

  Two hours and several bathroom breaks in the woods later, we heard the first blip on the radio. At first, it sounded like someone accidentally hit their transmitter. Michael held the radio up to his ear for a few seconds. Then he set it down again. He closed his eyes, leaned back against a tree, and sighed.

  “Move! Move! Move!” the radio screamed, causing the three of us to jump to our feet.

  Every nerve ending in our bodies came alive at that moment, mixed with a massive amount of adrenaline. Michael grabbed his radio and frantically tried to talk over the traffic.

  “What’s going on?” he yelled.

  “They killed them!” the voice screamed. “The congressman and his staff—they gunned them all down as they were getting out of their car!”

  “Teams A, C, and F, move in! Now! Move in!” Michael turned and ran toward the compound just as gunfire began erupting through the woods.

  “Retreat! Retreat!” the radio screamed louder.

  I was following Michael, horrified he would run right up on one of the cabins and get shot. Stan was behind me.

  “Michael! Stop!” I yelled. “Listen! They’re retreating! Stop, goddamn it!”

  He began to slow his pace while he furiously tried to find out what was going on. It was difficult because everyone was talking over others on the radio. Michael switched channels.

  “I need an update! Somebody give me a fucking update! Why are we retreating?” he barked.

  “There’s too much firepower, sir!” a breathless voice answered. “We can’t even get to the congressman and the other victims. Two of us have been hit!”

  Michael stopped and tried to catch his breath. “Everybody retreat and keep a secure perimeter—that’s an order! No one goes in! Keep back fifty yards from your original post! Command post is ready!”

  Michael turned and started walking hurriedly in the direction we’d just come. He gave the order for the other investigators to bring in the equipment for the command post.

  “Motherfuck!” he mumbled as he flew past me.

  As the others were setting up the tables and equipment, Michael was on the phone to Washington, informing them their hero congressman and staff had been gunned down and murdered. And, he added, we were in the midst of a full-fledged standoff, not even being able to recover the bodies. I don’t know whom Michael was talking to, but whoever it was took the brunt of his wrath.

  “You fucked up! You fucked this up! We would have gone in there and taken care of it, but now they know we’re here and you have a dead congressman.”

  Michael looked up at the first media helicopter that flew above us.

  “Oh, as an added bonus, the media’s here! You better get a statement prepared because this is your ass, not mine!” He slammed his phone shut.

  I gently touched his arm. “Michael, settle down.” I was quiet and calm. “I’ve never seen you this upset before. Walk with me for a minute.”

  I tugged on his arm and he didn’t protest. We walked several feet away from the others. Michael put his hands on top of his head and took a deep breath. He eventually settled on a large rock.

  “Listen, you’re not going to do anyone any good when you’re completely crazed like this,” I lectured. “Take a deep breath and focus. This was out of your hands, and now it is what it is. Deal with it that way and put everything else on the back burner.”

  “I know, you’re right, I’m just so completely pissed. There are five dead people lying down there, and it didn’t need to happen.” He began to calm down. “I’m okay. I need to get back.”

  I stayed put for a few minutes while Michael walked quickly back to the command post. He was already on the phone with a state police supervisor who had blocked off the road. Apparently, the media was swarming in by the hundreds. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out; there were at least ten helicopters hovering above the area. After he finished on the phone, he turned to the crucial topic of establishing communication with the cult.

  “We can’t even get close enough to throw a phone in, Michael,” Stan acknowledged. “How are we going to communicate with these people? If they see us, they’ll shoot.”

  “Start with the bullhorn. Get the negotiator in a position where the sound will echo off the base of the gorge so we know they hear him.” Michael spread the map out on the table. “Here, this looks like a good spot to start with.”

  Stan nodded.

  “We can keep talking until dark, and team C can work their way in from the east, right here, and throw the phone in,” Michael continued.

  I hated to interrupt, but couldn’t help it. “Michael, you might want to assume they have their people strategically placed around the compound anticipating something like that. It’s a pretty big risk.”

  He sighed. “You’re right, but at nightfall we can scan the area with night vision. Any guards will stand out like a sore thumb. We’ll also have copters scanning with thermal detection. Whatever guards are in place, the teams can take out and continue their approach. Stan, start with the bullhorn right now and we’ll see how it goes. In the meantime we’ll work on an alternate plan.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The other teams had positioned cameras at their locations, giving us a view of the front of the largest cabin. It was eerily quiet. Once in a while someone could be seen darting past one of the windows, much too fast for the snipers to hit. As I sat motionless, staring into the screen of the laptop computer that held the image of the cabin, I became convinced that something was wrong. Something about the cabin—and Illeana. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I expressed my worry to Michael.

  “Something’s off here, Michael,” I announced.

  “You don’t say?” he chided.

  “No, you don’t understand. Something’s not right about that cabin, or the ones next to it.”

  I clicked the arrow button on the computer, causing the camera to pan back and forth across the cabins.

  “I’m not following.” He put down his radio and walked over to me.

  “There are almost two hundred people in that cult, Michael. According to Kirk, there are almost fifty children. With all of the gunfire we surely would have heard them crying! There are no basements in the cabins. Do you think they’re dead already?” The thought horrified me.

  He looked as concerned as I felt. “Let’s not think that way, okay? C’mon, stay focused.”

  Easier said than done. I kept studying the computer screen until I began to feel the familiar thud of an oncoming headache. From what the beginning tremors told me, it would be a monster.

  “Anyone got some aspirin?” I groaned, rubbing my temples.

  “We’ve got a first-aid kit. I’ll grab some for you,” Stan offered.

  Graciously accepting the medicine, I pushed the computer to the side and left. When I found a comfy spot underneath a large pine, I closed my eyes and rested, waiting for the medicine to kick in.

  Since the group had been constantly chatting away on their phones or radios, I immediately noticed when things became quiet—too quiet. The silence startled me. Realizing I had drifted off to sleep for a while, I sat up straight and opened my eyes. Michael was standing in front of me holding his cell phone, surrounded by the others. All eyes were on me.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I was alarmed.

  Michael put his fingers to his lips, telling me to stay as silent as the others. I was completely unaware of what was going on. He quickly, quietly, and calmly filled me in.

  “Sergeant Gallagher,” he said slowly, “you have a phone call. It’s Illeana Barron. She wants to speak to you personally.”

  Holding out the phone, he mouthed the words, “Keep her talking as long as you can!” He then pointed up at the sky and I understood completely.

  The longer I kept her on the phone, the more time the feds had to zero in on her cell phone signal. She had to be on a cell phone, because it was impossible there were any landlines in the remote cabins.
I took the phone and slowly walked over to the table and sat down.

  “This is Sergeant Gallagher,” I said into the phone.

  “Sergeant Gallagher, it’s been a while but I found myself in dire need of speaking with you. I felt with our many connections together we had become friends in a way.” She laughed the same evil laugh I remembered.

  It took every ounce of energy I had to stay calm. The images in the barn flashed before me and I had to consciously shut them out.

  “Then you felt wrong, Illeana. I’d rather be friends with Satan himself,” I replied in a flat monotone.

  “Don’t worry, you will, I’m sure. I’ve seen the special place in hell reserved just for you, Gallagher. Eve has shown it to me, just as she has shown me so many other wonderful things—like this day. I saw this day months ago.”

  “Did you see the day you brutally murdered two innocent children as well? Did you see the day you became the ultimate monster? Did you see that, Illeana?” My voice began to rise, but Michael put his hand on my shoulder, signaling me to take it easy.

  “It was Eve’s will, Gallagher. They were the demon seeds of the nonbelievers. Just as God cast Eve out of her rightful place, Francesca tried to do the same to me.”

  “What is it that you want, Illeana? What will it take for you to release those children and the others? What do you hope to accomplish here today?”

  “Ah, one question at a time. It’s getting dark, you know. I suspect they will try to move in soon, but they best be careful. Eve had a plan, and no man on earth could possibly foil it!” Then came the hideous laugh again. “The only thing that will be accomplished here is that you will all leave us in peace and pray that Eve finds forgiveness in all of you. Other than that, expect a wrath that will have God himself cowering in a corner.” Her voice rose to the level of a bona fide madwoman. “The children are hers! They are the children of Eden! When you understand that, you will understand everything!”

  I held the phone away from my ear and shook my head at Michael. She was clearly in the throes of a complete psychotic episode and there would be no rationalizing, negotiating, or coming to an agreement with a woman like that. He nodded, and insisted I continue.

  “You know what I think, Illeana?” I became overly calm. “I think you’re full of shit. I don’t think you believe in Eve any more than you like getting fucked by a man. By the looks of your husband, I can understand why you feel that way, my sympathies for sure, but this little charade you’ve done a wonderful job of creating isn’t enough for me. I still can see you for what you are: a murdering, thieving, pussy-eating fraud. It’s that simple. Oh, and Illeana? I’m going to watch you die.”

  I could see the eyes of the surrounding agents widen as their jaws dropped halfway down the mountain. Michael was the only one not surprised; he knew me well. I waited for the explosion on the other end of the phone. I could hear her sucking in her breath as I uttered the last sentence, but when she spoke, it was me who was surprised.

  “Did you figure it out yet, Gallagher?” she asked calmly.

  “Figure out what?”

  “The number on the wall. I told you to figure it out, and quite frankly, expected you to. So, have you?”

  “A while ago, actually.” I was growing impatient, irritated that I hadn’t set her off with my foul-mouthed analysis.

  “Really? No, you haven’t, but I have one last thing to say. You remember, don’t you? Life is punishment for the sins of our fathers. Only when our souls return to Eden, our eternal home, will we be forever cleansed. Good-bye, Gallagher. I’ll leave you a rose.” She hung up.

  “Did you get it?” I eagerly asked Michael, referring to the phone signal.

  “No, damn it! Just one more minute and we would have had her. Fuck!” He slammed a radio on the table. “What the hell was that all about? What did she say?”

  I quickly filled everyone in on the colorful conversation with Illeana Barron. Michael wasn’t overly optimistic.

  “She’s still alive, but I don’t know for how much longer. I didn’t like the last sentence. It’s almost dark now and I think we need to move in with the phone and hopefully take all three cabins.”

  Within minutes, Michael was on the radio giving the order. We all sat and watched the screen, holding our breaths. The helicopter had flown over just seconds before with the thermal imaging equipment and gave an all clear. The teams with their night vision also reported no one around the cabins. It didn’t make sense. Illeana was smarter than that.

  “Michael, pull them back, don’t let them go in,” I whispered to him nervously.

  “What are you talking about? It’s clear, Cee.”

  “I don’t know, but trust me, she would never open herself up like this.”

  He looked concerned, and I knew he believed me.

  But he said, “We have to, there’s no other option!”

  There was nothing else I could do. I leaned back in my chair, crossed my arms, and waited. In less than five minutes the first team began their covert approach, and only two minutes after that they hit the first trip wire that set off a series of grenade blasts all around the cabin. The team members were screaming into the radio, and several called, “Officer down!”

  “Pull out! Call off the other teams!” Michael screamed into the radio before throwing it. “Fuck!”

  I looked at the ground, knowing an “I told you so” would generate a volatile response. Illeana was smart all right, but what else she had planned was anyone’s guess at this point.

  The rest of the night came and went with little activity. Thankfully, none of the officers were killed, although a few were injured and taken to the local hospital. Michael didn’t chance another team going in. He wasn’t about to be responsible for the deaths of other officers. At this point, it was a matter of who was going to make a move first. Throughout this whole ordeal, the bodies of Alan King and his staff remained where they had fallen. The entire nation was watching it all unfold as half the networks aired the footage live, preempting other programs.

  By the second day of the standoff, with no activity around or inside the cabins, Michael suggested I go home. At first, I protested.

  “You need to be home with the kids,” he explained. “Rena needs a break and Lola isn’t used to being away from us for this long. Please, I’m not trying to get rid of you, I’m just thinking of them, especially Lola.”

  He was right. I missed all of them horribly. And Lola hadn’t been away from us for more than a day—the horrible day she spent with Paula. I had called home earlier and Rena told me Lola was getting more and more upset that we were gone. I had relayed this to Michael.

  “Look, if and when something happens here, I’ll call you immediately. I promise I’ll have the charter plane standing by in case you need to get back here. Please, Cee, do this for me,” he pleaded, his eyes narrowing.

  “All right, but you promise you’ll call if something happens?”

  “I promise.” He pulled me into a tight embrace. “C’mon, I’ll have Stan take you back to the airport.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  I hadn’t realized how wonderful a shower and a change of clothes sounded until I got on the plane. Makeshift tents had been set up at the command post with cots and neither Michael nor I had so much as a toothbrush. I had only slept about four hours and I felt absolutely filthy.

  The first thing I did after hugging and kissing the kids, who were thrilled to see me, was take a shower and eat real food. The awful fast food we had been living on the last two days was beginning to take its toll on my stomach. Rena, anticipating this, prepared a wonderful home-cooked meal. Afterward, I spent time with the children and watched the live feed of the standoff on the news. Everything was at a standstill. Finally exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep on the couch and didn’t move until the following morning.

  I went into work, and filled Naomi and Coop in on almost everything, although they already knew a lot just from watching the news. Na
omi had brought a television set from the audio/visual room into Major Crimes so we could keep abreast of the standoff.

  Regardless, from the moment I hung up with Illeana, my last conversation with her weighed on me. She said I hadn’t figured out the numbers. But I had! Damn her! Her incessant riddles and games were beginning to push me toward the edge. There couldn’t possibly be another explanation. O is omega, 800—the number omega represents, and 24—the Greek alphabet ranking of omega. It was simple.

  Deciding not to punish my brain any further, I called it a day and went home. Around 6:45 P.M., Michael called.

  “They’re gone, Cee.” He hadn’t even said hello.

  “What? How?” I couldn’t believe it.

  “I don’t know, but I suspect they were never here to begin with. This whole thing was a decoy. About an hour ago, Jake Ellis, Tyler Briggs, and Gary West came out the front door of the main cabin and shot themselves. We decided to take our chances and go in. No one was there, nor did it look like anyone had been there—certainly not two hundred people,” he sighed.

  “Then where in the hell are they?” I was getting nervous.

  “I don’t know, it’s not like we can question any of the three men…”

  “So now what?”

  “I’ll be home in an hour or so. These guys here have mostly everything under control, and I need a shower and some sleep. I’m at the airport now.”

  After hanging up with Michael, I couldn’t think straight. Rena was nagging at me to drive to the store for spaghetti sauce since dinner was already late. She was a stickler for dinner at 6:30 P.M. I figured the drive would give me a few minutes to think and I decided to pick up the homicide files at my office while I was out.

  Whatever it took, I was going to find Illeana Barron.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  I went to my office first. I wasn’t surprised to find Naomi there. I had put a lot of my other cases on the back burner and she was catching up. I took a moment to thank her for the help.