Jackson spoke up. “You can’t fire that here. It’ll only draw more people to the house.”

I could hear rocks bouncing off the roof. The pace had definitely picked up in the last minute.

Allmand laughed. “Attract more people? Are you insane? There’re already fifteen out in front of the house. If you noticed, they’ve slashed the tires on our car. Joe ran off somewhere, so now it’s just the two of us. I say we blast the first couple through the door and hope someone comes to rescue us. I just sent an emergency email to the coordinator at Bagram.”

He turned from the door to the hole in the wall where the window should’ve been. Someone was trying to squeeze through the hole.

Jackson said, “No guns. Trust me. It’s for the best.”

“What great idea do you have?” He pointed at the man halfway through the hole.

Jackson moved quickly for a big man. He picked up a broom sitting in the corner of the room. He turned and swung like a big league baseball player. The handle of the broom cracked across the head of the man crawling through the hole. He fell unconscious with his arms dropping almost to the floor. He looked like a piece of old fruit caught in some kind of slicer.

Jackson said, “And the hole is plugged for a little while longer.”

Both men quickly gathered whatever personal belongings they needed. They snatched up papers, thumb drives, and mementos like photos and some kind of ceremonial shot glass with a lightning bolt on it.

Allmand kneeled by the rough pine coffin. He took the box Jackson had removed from the bottom compartment earlier and carefully inserted it into a backpack that had more insulation and padding.

He slipped the heavy backpack onto his shoulders. It made his knees buckle. He stabilized himself then felt the pack on his back.

I had to say from my cell, “What the hell is that?”

Allmand smiled. “Our retirement.” He yelled for Jackson to follow him as he rushed down the hallway toward the back of the house.

Jackson smashed his computer against the floor. He jumped on the hard drive until it broke loose.

There were more sounds of people trying to get inside.

Jackson rolled up a wad of papers and grabbed a lighter out of his desk. He lit the end of the papers like they were a torch. Then Jackson looked at me. “Sorry, Mitchum. This isn’t what I intended. But the only way to clear out evidence is a decent fire.”

He stood, holding the burning papers, looking for what needed to be burned.

I tried to keep my voice calm when I said, “You know Allmand is gone. He’s left you to take the brunt of everyone’s anger.” That made Jackson hesitate. That was my goal.

Jackson said, “Allmand is scouting an escape route.”