the inventory. “Land mines, flame throwers, grenades, rocket launchers. Shit, they could have anything.”
Without responding, Jackson and Webster increased their stride significantly.
CHAPTER 47
WHEN Greene saw the site of the explosion, it hit him like a punch in the gut. It was Jones’s cabin, and there was nothing left of it. The wooden frame had collapsed, succumbing to the intense heat of the fire. Debris, spread from the power of the initial blast, littered the manicured yard. Clouds of smoke lingered in the air, making it tough to breathe or even see.
“Damn,” he muttered as he removed his mask and cloak. “This can’t be good.”
Holmes, Jackson, and Webster saw Greene’s approach and rushed to his side. Before they even said a word, Greene tried to assess the severity of the situation but was unable to do so because of their wide range of emotions. Holmes had the cold glare of a terrorist. Blank face, intense eyes, neither a frown nor a smile on his lips. He had seen this type of shit before and wasn’t fazed by it. Jackson, though not as polished as Holmes, was still under control. His eyes showed some concern, like a sick man waiting for test results in a hospital, but he did his best to mask it with a broad grin. This was his first combat, and overall, he was holding up well.
Then there was Webster. He was the complete opposite of the other two men. In fact, if he had been a horse, Elmer’s would’ve been negotiating for his glue rights. His face was pale and sweaty. His body trembled. And his eyes were as big as pancakes. If not for the tragic possibilities of the situation, Greene would’ve laughed at him.
Hell, he was tempted to do it anyway.
“Why are you here?” Webster asked. “Who’s watching the boat of prisoners?”
“Don’t worry about it. The passengers are chained and surrounded by water. They aren’t going anywhere.” Greene turned toward Holmes. He knew this was the man who would give him the facts he was looking for. “What happened?”
“Your friend blew up the cabin and managed to escape in the process.”
“Jones escaped? How is that possible? Where was Hakeem when this happened?” The three men looked at each other but didn’t respond. “Shit, where’s Hakeem now?”
Holmes shrugged. “We don’t know, but we’re assuming he’s dead. He’s been missing for quite some time, and Theo saw one of the prisoners with his set of keys. We figure that—”
“Prisoners?” Greene blurted. “Are we talking plural?”
Holmes nodded. “It seems your other friend, Payne, unlocked the cabin door before Jones blew it up. At least that’s what we’ve pieced together. Theo watched the escape from the house and thinks Jones made the bomb from his anklet.”
All eyes turned to Webster, who just stared at the flames in the distance.
Holmes shook his head at Webster’s high level of anxiety. “I’m still trying to figure out why they blew up the cabin. It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, why blow it up if you have a set of keys to get out quietly? Wouldn’t the explosion just draw attention to your escape?”
Greene considered the question. “Maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe they blew the cabin up for attention. You know, draw us to this part of the Plantation for some reason.” He paused as he fleshed out the theory in his mind. “What were the other blasts I heard?”
“Actually,” Jackson answered, “you may be on to something there. Three charges were set off in the trees for just that purpose. Your friends lured thirteen of my guards to a spot in the woods, then waited for their arrival. When they showed up . . .” He finished his statement by running his thumb across the base of his throat in a slashing motion.
“They killed all thirteen?” Greene asked. “How the hell did they do that?”
Webster groaned, and Jackson cleared his throat. Neither of them wanted to tell Greene about the carnage they had witnessed. But Holmes didn’t mind talking. In fact, he wanted Greene to know what kind of trouble he’d brought to the island. “It seems our escapees aren’t your average, everyday army grunts. These are two very talented men, special forces plus.”
Greene furrowed his brow. “Special forces plus? What does that mean?”
“It means that they’re the best. They’re capable of doing anything they want.”
“Anything?” said a doubtful Greene. He’d fought Jones a few hours before, and his opponent barely put up a fight. He certainly didn’t think