Split Second Read Free Page B

Palomar.
    Palomar Mountain State Park was
only about sixty miles northeast of San Diego, although winding one’s way up a
mountain with an elevation of over six thousand feet was slow going, so the
trip could take as long as ninety minutes to two hours. The park was densely
wooded with oak trees and any number of conifers, including pine, cedar, and
fir, as well as large numbers of ferns.
    The mountain’s chief claim to fame,
stationed near its top, was the Palomar Observatory, home to the Hale
Telescope, for many decades considered the most important telescope in the
world.
    After five additional minutes of
slowly winding up the corkscrew road, the driver slammed on the brakes, and the
inhabitants of the trailer were all jerked several feet toward the cab,
fighting to regain their balance and find a handhold on one of the straps
hanging down from the walls.
    “Change of plans,” said a disembodied
male voice, one that was tense and agitated, no doubt the driver communicating
via some kind of speaker system. “Our forward car spotted an assault team a
mile ahead. They’ll try to hold them off while we backtrack down the mountain. We
can’t rule out that we’ll run into a flanking team behind us, so prepare for
imminent action. We’re calling in reinforcements.”
    The reaction inside the trailer was
immediate and frenzied. The men removed compact submachine guns and numerous clips
the size of cigarette cartons from their nylon duffels and readied themselves
for a possible assault. Several of them voiced variations of the phrase, “what
the fuck?” with great agitation, as the truck reversed course, hurtling dangerously
back along the narrow road that corkscrewed down the mountain. The residents of
the back of the truck all clutched straps and hung on for dear life, but were still
thrown this way and that with considerable force.
    “What is going on?” demanded
Jenna, unable to control her frayed nerves any longer, her words screeched out more
than spoken.
    “Don’t know,” said the man in
charge as he continued to prepare for whatever might be coming. “We know
there’s a rival group out there. But there is no way they could know about this
op. No way,” he repeated in dismay. “This was supposed to be routine. A milk
run. Our large force of men and spotter car were just standard precautions. We
weren’t expecting any trouble.”
    “That’s very comforting,”
grunted Wexler, clutching at a strap he shared with Jenna as the truck continued
careening down the mountain.
    Then, from out of nowhere, their
small stretch of Palomar Mountain State Park became a war zone .
    The driver slammed on the brakes
once again, almost yanking Jenna’s arm from its socket as she fought to retain
her grip on the handhold, as horrifying sounds of explosions and heavy gunfire
filled the trailer. The forces on the braking Hostess delivery truck became too
great for it to hold its line, and it fishtailed. The trailer slammed over onto
its side and left the road, shearing away from the cab and sliding down a steep
slope.
    Inside the trailer, bodies flew
in every direction, and the machinery at the back of the trailer tore loose
from its bonds and collided randomly with the inhabitants. After ten or fifteen
seconds of this, the sliding trailer slammed into a line of evenly spaced tree
trunks and came to a rest against them, on its side and at a thirty-five-degree
angle.
    The trailer’s light had been extinguished
immediately during the slide, and they had been tumbled in absolute darkness, as
though stuffed inside a massive clothes dryer filled with heavy objects.
    As gunfire continued to rain
around them, one of their captors managed to produce a glow stick and crack it
open, and two others soon followed suit, providing enough illumination for
Jenna to take stock. She had several minor cuts and abrasions but was largely
unscathed. Two of their five captors were unconscious, and from the blood
leaking from their heads, were