Chapter 5 - The Depot
The old supply depot sat on the far edge of the base, surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. It had been built in the 1980s, back when the base had been much larger, and had been mostly abandoned for the past decade. The buildings were weathered, their paint peeling, their windows broken. The roads leading to them were cracked and overgrown with weeds. Most soldiers on the base avoided the place, saying it was creepy, that it was full of rats and snakes.
Which made it the perfect place to hide something illegal.
Brooks and Olivia drove out to the depot in an unmarked truck, taking a back road that avoided the main security checkpoints. Brooks had a small team of four trusted men meeting them there—men who’d served with him for years, men he knew he could count on. They were already positioned in the hills overlooking the depot, hidden behind rocks and brush, their rifles ready, binoculars pressed to their eyes.
Olivia had changed out of her dress uniform into a pair of combat pants and a tactical vest. She’d brought her father’s rifle with her, the old wooden stock feeling familiar and solid in her hands. She checked the action one more time as they drove, making sure everything was in order.
“Any sign of them?” Brooks asked into his radio as they pulled to a stop behind a small ridge a quarter-mile from the depot.
“Two trucks just pulled up to the main building,” one of his men replied. “Cole’s with them. And Mercer. They’re loading crates into the back of the trucks now. Looks like at least a dozen crates so far.”
Brooks nodded, looking through his own binoculars. He could see the men clearly—Cole barking orders, Mercer hauling crates, half a dozen other men moving quickly, loading the trucks as fast as they could. “What kind of crates?”
“Wooden. Marked with the shipping company logo we traced to Cole’s brother. Heavy. They’re using dollies to move them.”
Olivia leaned forward, her binoculars pressed to her eyes. She could see the crates now, the same ones she’d seen in her notes. She thought about David Hale, about the bullet that didn’t match his rifle, about the witness who’d died of an “overdose.” Whatever was in those crates, it was worth killing for.
“Wait,” one of the men said over the radio. “Something’s wrong. One of the crates just fell off a dolly. It broke open.”
Brooks and Olivia both tensed. “What’s inside?” Brooks asked.
There was a pause. Then the man’s voice came back, tight with shock. “Weapons. Assault rifles. Sniper rifles. Cases of ammunition. And… sir, there are explosives. C-4. Detonators. A lot of it.”
Olivia felt her blood run cold. She’d suspected they were moving weapons, but explosives? That changed everything. This wasn’t just a smuggling ring. This was something much worse. If those explosives got off the base, if they fell into the wrong hands…
“We have to stop them now,” Olivia said, her voice sharp. “If they leave with that cargo, we might never find it again.”
Brooks nodded, his face grim. He knew she was right. They didn’t have time to wait for backup, didn’t have time to get a formal warrant. If they let those trucks drive away, people could die. A lot of people.
“Alright, listen up,” he said into the radio, addressing his team. “We move in now. We take them by surprise. Non-lethal force first, but if they fire on us, we return fire. Got it?”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” came back over the radio.
Brooks looked at Olivia. “You stay behind me. We don’t know how many weapons they have inside those trucks.”
Olivia shook her head, already climbing out of the truck. “With all due respect, sir, I’m the best shot you’ve got. If things go bad, you’re going to want me up front.”
Brooks stared at her for a split second, then nodded. “Alright. But be careful.”
They moved down the ridge quickly, staying low, using the brush and rocks for cover. The men loading the trucks were so focused on their work that they didn’t see the team coming until they were less than 100 yards away.
“Freeze! Military police!” Brooks shouted, his voice booming across the depot yard.
The men froze. For a split second, everyone just stood there, the only sound the wind blowing across the yard.
Then Ryan Mercer, who’d been hauling a crate near the back of one of the trucks, dropped his load, pulled a pistol from his holster, and fired.
The shot went wild, hitting the side of the truck with a loud clang.
All hell broke loose.
Cole and the other men scrambled for cover, pulling their own weapons. Brooks’s team opened fire, aiming for the ground near their feet, trying to force them to surrender. But Cole’s men were well-armed, well-trained, and desperate. They fired back, bullets zinging off the rocks and the sides of the buildings.
Olivia ducked behind a large metal barrel, her rifle shouldered. She scanned the yard, her eyes moving quickly, identifying targets. She didn’t want to kill anyone if she didn’t have to. But she would if it meant protecting Brooks and his men, if it meant stopping those weapons and explosives from getting out.
She saw a man leaning out from behind a crate, aiming a rifle at one of Brooks’s soldiers. Olivia fired once, hitting the rifle out of his hands. He yelped, clutching his injured hand, and fell back behind the crate.
Another man tried to run for the driver’s seat of one of the trucks. Olivia shot the tire out. The truck lurched to one side, and the man scrambled for cover.
“Drop your weapons!” Brooks shouted again. “You’re surrounded! It’s over!”
But Cole wasn’t ready to give up. Olivia saw him near the back of the main building, talking frantically into a radio, his face wild. He fired a few shots in their direction, then turned and ran into the building, disappearing through a side door.
“Mercer’s trying to get away!” one of the soldiers shouted.
Olivia looked over. Ryan was running toward a small side gate at the far end of the yard, his pistol still in his hand. He was fast, and if he made it through that gate, he could disappear into the desert.
Olivia didn’t hesitate. She stood up, shouldered her rifle, and fired.
The bullet hit the ground right in front of Ryan’s feet, kicking up a cloud of dust. He stumbled, falling forward, and before he could get up, two of Brooks’s soldiers were on him, pinning him to the ground, yanking the pistol from his hand.
“Cole went inside the building!” Olivia shouted to Brooks. “I’m going after him!”
“Wait, Carter—” Brooks started, but Olivia was already running, moving quickly from cover to cover, her rifle held ready.
She reached the side door Cole had gone through, pressed her back against the wall, and listened. She could hear footsteps running down a hallway inside, the sound of a door slamming shut at the far end. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
The building was dark, the only light coming from cracks in the boarded-up windows. It smelled of dust, mildew, and something else—something sharp and chemical, like gun oil and diesel fuel. Olivia moved down the hallway slowly, her boots silent on the concrete floor, her eyes adjusting to the dark.
She passed rows of empty shelves, old desks covered in dust, broken chairs. The footsteps had stopped. Cole was somewhere in this building, hiding, waiting.
Olivia turned a corner and found herself in a large open room, what used to be the main warehouse floor. More crates were stacked against the walls, some of them broken open, revealing more weapons and explosives. In the center of the room, near a loading dock door at the far end, stood Sergeant Major Cole.
He was holding a detonator in his hand.
Olivia froze, her rifle aimed at his chest. “Put it down, Cole. It’s over.”
Cole laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Over? You think this is over? You have no idea what you’ve walked into, little girl. This is bigger than you. Bigger than that idiot Hale who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.”
Olivia’s finger tightened on the trigger. “You killed him.”
“Of course I did.” Cole’s face twisted into a snarl. “He found out about the shipment. He was going to ruin everything. I gave him a chance to walk away. He refused. So I put a bullet in him. Same as I’m going to do to you.”
He raised the detonator higher. “There’s enough C-4 in this building to blow this entire depot and everything within a quarter-mile to kingdom come. You take one step closer, I press this button. We all go up together.”
Olivia’s mind raced. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. She could see the desperation in his eyes, the way his hand was shaking on the detonator. He was trapped, and he had nothing left to lose.
She slowly lowered her rifle, keeping her eyes locked on his. “You don’t have to do this, Cole. Put the detonator down. Surrender. It’s the only way you’re getting out of here alive.”
“Alive?” Cole laughed again. “I’m not going to prison for the rest of my life. I’d rather die than rot in a cell. And if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”
His thumb moved toward the button on the detonator.
Olivia didn’t hesitate.
She raised her rifle, aimed, and fired.
The bullet hit the detonator in Cole’s hand, blowing it apart. Cole screamed, clutching his injured hand, blood pouring through his fingers. He stumbled back, staring at her in shock and pain.
Before he could recover, Olivia ran forward, tackling him to the ground, pinning him there with her knee in his back. She pulled the handcuffs from her belt and snapped them around his wrists, tight.
“Major Brooks,” she said into her radio, her voice steady despite the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Cole is in custody. The detonator is destroyed. The building is secure.”
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She looked down at Cole, who was still groaning in pain on the concrete floor. She thought about David Hale, about the way he’d died, about the look on his face in the photo on her kitchen counter.
“Justice for Hale,” she whispered.
