Retribution Road by Jon Coon (e reader comics .TXT) 📕

a guard to go with her. In the bathroom, she read his text and her fingers flew as she answered. Her last word was “tracker.”

“There, look there,” Gabe said.

They were two miles from the power plant, and beneath them a cluster of seagrass moved against the current as if purpose driven. The chopper hit the mysterious cluster with a powerful spotlight, and the outline of the sub became visible.

“We have to stop it. It could be carrying tons of Semtex. If it gets to—”

“It’s not getting anywhere,” the pilot said. He called the base on his radio, and a fighter was scrambled.

“We’ll stay on her until the cavalry arrives, then we’re hauling grass.”

“Roger that.”

The chopper gained altitude but kept the sub spotlighted. The pilot answered a radio command, then banked sharply away as fast as it could go.

The fighter jet was on a firing run.

Juan read everything Lareina had to tell him about her meeting with Carol. It was a last chance, make-or-break, life decision. If he blew the nuclear plant, everything he’d fought for was over, including his own life. He would have his revenge, his retribution, but they would spend the remainder of their lives on the world’s most wanted list, and the odds of survival would not be in their favor.

Lareina pled with him to give Carol’s offer a chance. He looked up from the sailboat where he sat with the remote control and realized it was over. The norteamericanos had won, but somehow there was a chance for redemption. He flipped the protective cover on the remote wireless detonator and flipped the switch.

An eruption of sand and water sent debris hundreds of feet in the air and shattered windows and cracked block foundations and walls a mile away. But the nuclear plant remained undamaged.

At the Air Force base, the blast was both seen and felt. Coffee cups fell from tables and computers jumped on desks. And in the chaos, Señora Lareina Caldera vanished from the bathroom, not to be seen again.

“War Eagle, report,” the jet’s radio blasted.

“This is War Eagle. I don’t know what happened, but that blast wasn’t us. I haven’t fired anything.”

The chopper kited in the blast, knocked sideways but not down. The engine coughed and gasped but then regained power and pulled them up out of the stall and inevitable crash. Gabe and Carol were tossed violently in their seats, and his computer was lost out the open cabin door.

When she could sit straight again, Carol grabbed Gabe. Her eyes were in full panic mode, and her grip bear-trap strong. “What . . .?”

“The sub, tons of explosives. Thank God he didn’t make it any closer.”

“The jet?”

Over the headset, the pilot said, “We just got word it wasn’t the jet. Something else set it off.”

“Lareina stopped him.”

“I’d say you stopped him. It was your idea to go to her, and it worked. Hopefully this is a new start. You were the miracle we were looking for. I’d say it’s time to go home.”

Just before dawn, a forty-foot sailing catamaran motored from its slip and into the clear water of the Atlantic, east of Key Largo. Wearing a delightful bikini, Lareina sat at the helm while Juan raised the mainsail and jib. She set the autopilot, stood, and stretched. Juan came, encircled her in his arms, kissed her neck, and asked, “Are you sure you’re comfortable with our decision? We could get lost in the islands for years. They would never find us.”

“We have children. We have people who need us. I gave my word. We have to go back.”

“And you trust her? The captain’s daughter.”

“I do. She took a great risk coming to us like that. After everything that’s happened, she probably wanted to kill us. I would have. And she must have known she could have been killed flying in like that uninvited. She was very brave.”

He held her and looked out into the Atlantic’s tempting swells. “Then should we call them with our decision?”

“As much as I’d like to enjoy the boat for a day or two, get rid of these tan lines and swim naked in the Gulf with you, we need to call them now, before they change their minds. Before it’s too late to have a future we can live with.”

The shell of the new ranch house was under roof, and the new barn was getting its first coat of paint. The state helicopter dropped them near the house, and they stood, taking in all the activity. Emily was the first to arrive, on an ATV. Paul and Angelica followed in the new white Ford pickup.

Hugs, luggage, lunch, and when they were comfortably back in the bunker, Carol came to Gabe’s room. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and walked into Gabe’s surprised arms. The kiss was monumental. When she let him up for air, she said, “It’s time for you to take us home. This was Dad’s place. He’s gone now, and we have our own place. I’m tired of being friends without benefits.”

He stepped away, looking into her eyes. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

She nodded, as if his thoughts were written on his face. “I meant let’s get married. Today if we can. Maybe being married to a cop who is a national hero wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I’m willing to risk it. Let’s go home.”

“Well, since you put it that way . . .” He kissed her again, and his hands found places they had not been before.

The knock at the door brought the fun to a halt. “Gabe, you and Mom are needed in the conference room. It’s about Grandpa. I can’t find Mom, and she’s not answering her phone. Is she with you?”

“Busted.” Gabe laughed quietly and kissed Carol again. “Give me a minute, Em. I’ll find her and meet you in there.”

“Okay.”

He waited before opening the door and then peeked out into the hall.