The Last Infidel Read Online Free Page A
Author: Spikes Donovan
Tags: Science-Fiction, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Military, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Religion & Spirituality, Christian fiction, futuristic, Teen & Young Adult, Thrillers & Suspense, Christian Books & Bibles, Religious & Inspirational Fiction
prisoner of war. He gave the order and hung up the phone.
“If there’s a way for us to stop Bashar,” General Williams said, looking at Langford, “Tracy Graham will find it. And if she can get Cody Marshall back into the game, the two will be unstoppable.”
Langford raised his eyebrows and said, “Yep, as long as we can get them to talk to each other.”
{ 4 }
Cody Marshall had no intentions of backing out. The second he’d laid his eyes on the stash of explosives hidden in the basement of the destroyed church building, the question in his mind was not if he would use it, but how and when . Fifty pounds of C-4 would be more than enough to blow a hole through Bashar’s western checkpoint, defenses and all; and Cody would be able to simply walk away from Middle Tennessee with a pack slung across his back and a rifle in his hands. He wanted out of this hell. And he wanted out soon.
Even a casual, disinterested glance at the stack of C-4, each one-pound stick wrapped tightly in green plastic, all of them nicely stacked at the far end of the basement, showed a pile of at least two hundred pounds. Three boxes of detonators, a mix of manually-activated handhelds, digital timers, and a couple of remotes, sat in front of the pile.
“And you’re telling me that six Americans put these here last night? Six Americans and one of Bashar’s men?” Cody asked.
Marcus, a boy of twelve who lived with his mother beneath the ruins of the old Emmanuel Methodist Church on Hall’s Hill pike, nodded. “We hid – and they didn’t see us.”
“Who was the Muslim guy?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was short and he wore a blue Titan’s baseball cap.”
“And the Americans were working with him?”
Marcus nodded.
“And nobody but you and your mom know about this?”
Marcus nodded again, and he looked at the small back pack Cody had put down on the floor.
Cody got the hint and apologized. He opened the pack and dumped its contents onto a wooden work bench against the wall: five tins of sardines, a loaf of bread, and an old bottle of Flintstone’s chewable vitamins. Cody reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of perfume. “We can’t leave all this stuff here, so I’m going to come back tonight and---”
“There’s another part of the basement we can hide it in.” Marcus’ mother, Lisa, had just climbed down through the rubble, quickly and quietly, her movement perfected after two years of hiding and foraging. She laid two rabbits out on the work bench and hung her bow and quiver from a peg driven into an old, hand-hewn floor joist. Her dark brown hair ran down her back in a single braid, nearly touching the belt holding up her camouflage cargo pants. “Marcus knows not to tell you about it but, given the circumstances,” she said, nodding at the pile of C-4, “I think we need to move this ‘stuff’, too. And they’ll never find it behind the rocks on the other end of the basement. They haven’t found us there, yet.”
Cody looked at his watch. The sun would be up in an hour. “That’s a pile to move,” he said, and he looked towards the exit.
“Like we have anything better to do?” Lisa said, smiling when she saw the bottle of perfume. “ Love Me Tender ? Don’t get any ideas – not yet, anyway.”
Cody smiled. He liked looking at Lisa – loved it more when she got testy.
“We’ll hide it – just make it worth our while,” she said.
“Deal. What do you want?”
“A rifle, preferably .308, silenced, a hundred rounds,” Lisa said.
Cody Marshall groaned. “That’s a serious piece of hardware.”
“And C-4 isn’t?” Lisa said.
“Silenced rifles don’t appear in my bedroom overnight.”
“You think whoever put this here isn’t coming back for it? Fine then.”
Cody cleared his throat and looked at Lisa. “Will you settle for just any type of silenced rifle?”
“I’m a
“If there’s a way for us to stop Bashar,” General Williams said, looking at Langford, “Tracy Graham will find it. And if she can get Cody Marshall back into the game, the two will be unstoppable.”
Langford raised his eyebrows and said, “Yep, as long as we can get them to talk to each other.”
{ 4 }
Cody Marshall had no intentions of backing out. The second he’d laid his eyes on the stash of explosives hidden in the basement of the destroyed church building, the question in his mind was not if he would use it, but how and when . Fifty pounds of C-4 would be more than enough to blow a hole through Bashar’s western checkpoint, defenses and all; and Cody would be able to simply walk away from Middle Tennessee with a pack slung across his back and a rifle in his hands. He wanted out of this hell. And he wanted out soon.
Even a casual, disinterested glance at the stack of C-4, each one-pound stick wrapped tightly in green plastic, all of them nicely stacked at the far end of the basement, showed a pile of at least two hundred pounds. Three boxes of detonators, a mix of manually-activated handhelds, digital timers, and a couple of remotes, sat in front of the pile.
“And you’re telling me that six Americans put these here last night? Six Americans and one of Bashar’s men?” Cody asked.
Marcus, a boy of twelve who lived with his mother beneath the ruins of the old Emmanuel Methodist Church on Hall’s Hill pike, nodded. “We hid – and they didn’t see us.”
“Who was the Muslim guy?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was short and he wore a blue Titan’s baseball cap.”
“And the Americans were working with him?”
Marcus nodded.
“And nobody but you and your mom know about this?”
Marcus nodded again, and he looked at the small back pack Cody had put down on the floor.
Cody got the hint and apologized. He opened the pack and dumped its contents onto a wooden work bench against the wall: five tins of sardines, a loaf of bread, and an old bottle of Flintstone’s chewable vitamins. Cody reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of perfume. “We can’t leave all this stuff here, so I’m going to come back tonight and---”
“There’s another part of the basement we can hide it in.” Marcus’ mother, Lisa, had just climbed down through the rubble, quickly and quietly, her movement perfected after two years of hiding and foraging. She laid two rabbits out on the work bench and hung her bow and quiver from a peg driven into an old, hand-hewn floor joist. Her dark brown hair ran down her back in a single braid, nearly touching the belt holding up her camouflage cargo pants. “Marcus knows not to tell you about it but, given the circumstances,” she said, nodding at the pile of C-4, “I think we need to move this ‘stuff’, too. And they’ll never find it behind the rocks on the other end of the basement. They haven’t found us there, yet.”
Cody looked at his watch. The sun would be up in an hour. “That’s a pile to move,” he said, and he looked towards the exit.
“Like we have anything better to do?” Lisa said, smiling when she saw the bottle of perfume. “ Love Me Tender ? Don’t get any ideas – not yet, anyway.”
Cody smiled. He liked looking at Lisa – loved it more when she got testy.
“We’ll hide it – just make it worth our while,” she said.
“Deal. What do you want?”
“A rifle, preferably .308, silenced, a hundred rounds,” Lisa said.
Cody Marshall groaned. “That’s a serious piece of hardware.”
“And C-4 isn’t?” Lisa said.
“Silenced rifles don’t appear in my bedroom overnight.”
“You think whoever put this here isn’t coming back for it? Fine then.”
Cody cleared his throat and looked at Lisa. “Will you settle for just any type of silenced rifle?”
“I’m a