I Will Fight No More Forever

by E B Corbin

  “Do you know the names of these men?” White Cloud straightened his stance.

  “Only the dude in the suit. One of the others called him Patterson.” Toby hung his head, then looked into Sam’s eyes. “That’s another thing. When I looked up the name, I found that a Ben Patterson was an aide to some state senator—Jerome Buckley. He’s been a senator forever, and he’s a severe right-winger. He’s from some jurisdiction in the eastern part of the state that’s always been ultra conservative.”

  Sam made a mental note to research this senator and his aide. “What about the other two? Do you know their names?”

  “Wasn’t mentioned on the recording, and I never saw them before—or after, for that matter. When the FBI stormed the place, someone must have warned them; they never came in again.”

  “Okay,” Sam said. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  Toby stood with a tiny ray of hope in his eyes. “Do you want a copy of the recording?”

  “You have it?”

  “Yeah, I downloaded it to my computer before I turned it over to the feds.”

  “Send it to me, please. It might be helpful.” Sam gave him her email address before they left.

  Chapter Nine

  All three were silent as they piled into the taxi. White Cloud started the engine but did not pull out. Instead he tapped the steering wheel, lost in thought, until Henry cleared his throat. He snapped out of his trance and put the car in gear.

  As they stopped at the red light on the corner, Sam said, “So… what do you two think?”

  “I think I believe it,” Henry said. “It’s just the kind of thing some radical would try to pull off.”

  White Cloud nodded, maintaining focus on the traffic light. “It is disturbing.”

  “I need to talk to the FBI. Find out why they didn’t take it seriously and see if they plan on doing anything more.” Sam leaned forward and addressed the taxi driver. “Do you know where they’re located?”

  “In the federal building out by the airport. You wish to go now?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Henry twisted in the front passenger seat to look at her. “Maybe we should listen to the recording before we confront them.”

  “I’m not going to confront them. I’m just going to ask a few questions, see what they’ll tell me.”

  “Probably nothing.” Henry faced front again and fiddled with his seat belt.

  “Might as well try,” Sam said to the back of his head before she slumped against the seatback and crossed her arms. In truth, she figured Henry was right, but she had to give it a shot.

  Lost in thought about how best to approach her former employers, Sam forgot to keep her eyes peeled for anyone following them. But Henry never let his guard down even though no noisy buzzing disturbed him.

  After a tense thirty minutes, they pulled into a parking lot for a large brick building surrounded by a heavy-duty black fence with a gate and guard house at the entrance. A uniformed man stepped out as the taxi pulled up. Since they didn’t have an appointment and Sam didn’t know the name of the special agent in charge, they were denied entry.

  White Cloud stopped at a marked parking space outside the gate. “What do you wish to do now?”

  Sam was busy scrolling through her contacts to find her old boss in Washington. “Give me a minute.”

  When she reached the office of Jim Cunningham, she had to make polite conversation with his assistant Mary, before she could ask to speak to Jim. She didn’t know what kind of reception she’d receive, but he seemed pleased to hear from her since he didn’t hang up when she identified herself.

  She’d not left under the best of terms. Some of the agents felt she used the bureau to get back at her father and never made a commitment to the rest of the work. In truth, when she first started, she was gung-ho to catch the bad guys—any and all of them. She soon learned that was a difficult task and realized she didn’t have the patience to sit around and wait. Sam grew bored confined to a little cubicle all day.

  Maybe if she’d been assigned to some field work it would have been different. She didn’t join to do background checks; she wanted action. But Jim Cunningham valued her skills with the computer more than her people skills, and he may have been right. Sam had to admit she felt more comfortable in front of a keyboard than she did in front of an audience, even an audience of one.

  Her boss didn’t want her to leave, but she couldn’t stay once she had located the money. She knew her mission was to repay the victims of the con. She couldn’t do that from Washington, D.C.

  Once the usual niceties were exchanged with her old boss, Sam got to the reason for her call. “Do you know anyone in the Portland office?”

  “Portland, Oregon?” Jim didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

  “Yes. I’m outside their building now, but the guard won’t let us in.”

  “What are you up to?” Jim’s friendly tone changed to wariness.

  “Nothing much. I just came across some information that I’d like to give them.”

  “What kind of information?” Jim was too good an agent to make a decision without knowing the reason.

  Sam could have kicked herself for calling him before she took time to think about what she would say, so she decided on the truth. “I came across a guy who turned over a flash drive to them with a recording that he claims points to a terrorist plot. I’d like to see what they think of it.”

  “Another terrorist plot? They probably come across them every day out there. You sure it’s viable?”

  “I’m not positive. I’d like to get their take on it,” she said.

  “Does it involve Patriot Prayer or some other right-wing activist group? If so—”

  She broke in before she lost him entirely. “I don’t think so. Patriot Prayer is well-known for protesting. I think whoever’s organizing this wants to stay under the radar.”

  “Why do you care? If it was a viable tip, they’ll investigate it. They don’t need a civilian involved.”

  Sam ignored the thinly veiled dig. “It also includes a threat to the Warm Springs Reservation, and I have a friend who has relatives there.”

  “I see.” The doubt could be heard in Jim’s voice. “What do you think they’re planning?”

  She suddenly realized how preposterous the whole thing sounded. “Well, um, I think they’re planning on taking over the state.”

  “Taking over the state might not be so bad.” Jim obviously had a hard time taking her seriously. “Some of these states are out of hand.”

  Sam swallowed before she answered. “A violent takeover would not be good.”

  She imagined Jim mulling it over, making little sucking sounds with his mouth, the way he always did. That noise drove Sam crazy when she had worked for him. But she needed his assistance if she wanted to get into the building.

  Finally, he said, “I think Pete Singer is SAC there now. I went through the academy with him. You can mention my name, and it might get you in to see him.”

  Sam wrote the name on a notebook she kept handy for such occasions.

  “I can make a call. See what I can do,” Jim added.

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” Sam didn’t want to owe him a favor. “I’ll try calling. Drop your name and see if I can get through.”

  “I’ll give him a call anyway,” Jim said. “Don’t embarrass me if you get to see him.”

  “Appreciate your help. I’ll try to be on my best behavior.” Sam disconnected before he could change his mind. He was notorious for making a decision and then doing an about-face.

  “Shit! I forgot to get a phone number,” Sam muttered to herself.

  “I looked it up while you were busy sweet-talking your old boss.” Henry held up his phone for her to read the numbers. “But you should probably wait. Give him time to contact his friend.”

  “How do you know he said he’d call?”

  “It’s what I’d do. Fill this guy in on who you are.
Whether you’re legitimate or not.”

  “Well, that could be good or bad,” Sam said.

  “Your former boss does not like you?” White Cloud looked at her over his shoulder.

  “I don’t know. My departure was kind of abrupt.” Sam sank into the seat.

  “No matter. He will do as he says.” The taxi driver turned back to the driving position.

  “It gives us some time to grab a bite,” Henry said.

  “Jesus, Henry! Don’t you ever think of anything but food?”

  Henry shrugged but didn’t answer.

  “There is a small diner not far from here. I will take you there, if you wish,” said White Cloud.

  Sam took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “Sure. Why not?”

  As they pulled away from the FBI building, the buzzing grew louder in Henry’s skull. He angled his head to better see out the side mirror.

  “That gray sedan pulled out just as we did,” White Cloud told him. “What do you wish me to do?”

  The buzzing had grown, but it wasn’t loud enough to indicate imminent danger. “Take us to the diner. I doubt he’d try something in a public place.”

  Sam looked out the back window. “Is that him? The same guy who tried to grab me at Nina’s?”

  “Probably. It’s the same kind of car.”

  “Shouldn’t we try to lose him?”

  “What for? He’d only turn up again somewhere else,” Henry said.

  “I will drop you at the entrance then swing around to keep an eye on him,” said White Cloud, who then drove to a paved parking lot in front of an old-fashioned diner. It reminded Sam of the one Roxanne Boudreaux inherited in Pennsylvania. An attorney by training, Roxanne now acted as Sam’s lawyer when she needed one.

  “Aren’t you coming in? You need to eat lunch, too.” Sam leaned forward, inserting her head between the two men in the front seat.

  “You can bring me a cheeseburger. I will eat it as I wait for you at the FBI.”

  Sam slid back. “You aren’t coming in there, either? You can, you know. It might help to emphasize the urgency.”

  “I think it would be best if you did not have a Native American tagging along the first time you meet. If you need my input, you can call and I will come. Historically, my people do not have an easy relationship with the FBI.” White Cloud came to a stop a few feet from the front door of the diner. “Call me when you are done. I will pick you up here.”

  Henry stepped out and scanned the parking lot. The buzzing remained constant but wasn’t increasing. He spotted the gray vehicle parked at the curb a few spaces down from the parking entrance. It would be difficult for the man to reach them before they made it into the restaurant.

  He opened Sam’s door. “Let’s go. Don’t dawdle.”

  “I don’t dawdle.”

  As Sam slid out, Henry grabbed her arm and led her to the door, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ankle. It was healing, he knew, but not fast enough to satisfy him.

  The room was cheerful with model airplanes hung from the ceiling and prints of other planes on the wall. Since PDX was nearby, Sam figured the diner catered to the airport personnel as she followed Henry past a few empty booths at the front windows.

  Henry knew Sam would never be willing to sit with her back to the door and neither was he. He stopped at a booth around the corner where both could keep an eye on the comings and goings of the customers.

  The waitress appeared within seconds and slid menus to them while giving Henry a big smile. “What can I do for you, hon?” She leaned over the table to give him a peak down her white blouse buttoned way too low as far as Sam was concerned. It was hard to miss her cleavage.

  Henry took in the sight and winked at the woman. “Give us a few minutes, okay? We’ll see what you can do later.”

  Sam almost gagged at the flirty exchange. She thought the middle-aged blonde was a little long in the tooth to be hitting on her companion, but she didn’t know what kind of woman Henry preferred, so she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t her business to watch over Henry’s love life.

  After the waitress slowly straightened up and moved away, swinging her hips, Henry noticed Sam’s tight lips and the little frown line between her eyes. “Hey, it’s harmless.”

  “Do you have to flirt with every woman who falls all over you?” Sam knew she sounded snide, but the words popped out before she could stop them.

  “Are you jealous?”

  “No, of course not.” Sam felt her face heating up. “Uh, hmmm… I just think…”

  “You are jealous.” Henry leaned against the back of the booth. “It doesn’t hurt to be nice to people.”

  Sam wanted to say he was being too nice but swallowed it before it left her mouth. She didn’t need to have this conversation go any further. “I’m not hungry. I’ll just have some coffee.”

  “You didn’t eat anything this morning; you need to have something.” Henry perused the menu as he talked, but a tiny smile lingered on his lips. “They have a chef’s salad. You can pick at that.”

  Sam shook her head as she skimmed her menu. “I’m sick of salads. I’ll have a grilled cheese.”

  Before Henry could signal to their waitress, she was back at their booth. “Can I get you something to drink while you decide?”

  Although the woman’s eyes were focused on Henry, Sam spoke up. “I’ll have an iced tea.”

  Henry nodded. “Me, too. Any specials today?”

  “Honey, everything in here’s special.” The blonde flashed him a thousand-megawatt smile. “But if you’re talking about food, we’re known for our corned beef sandwiches. The owner’s Jewish and he makes it himself. People say it rivals that famous place in New York.”

  “Katz’s Deli?” Henry kept his gaze on the waitress’s face instead of her other attributes.

  “I think that’s the name of the place. I’ve never been, myself, but others have.”

  “I’m from New York, I know the place.” Henry smiled at her. “I’ll take it.”

  Sam hadn’t had a good corned beef sandwich in ages, so she gave up on the bland grilled cheese. “Me too.”

  The waitress glanced at Sam, then back at Henry. “Anything else? You want fries with that?”

  Sam let Henry place the rest of the order for White Cloud while she gazed out the window. That’s when she saw the Portland PD cruiser pull up behind a gray sedan parked in the street.

  Chapter Ten

  When the man got out of the car with his hands up, Sam recognized the guy that had threatened them at Nina’s. She grabbed Henry’s hand to get his attention as the waitress sauntered away with their order.

  “Henry, I think the police are busting the guy who’s been following us.”

  Henry nodded. “Good.”

  “But why? They don’t know what he did.”

  “I called Matthews this morning and filled him in about those skinheads and mentioned our friend out there trying to grab you. He said he’d see what he could do.”

  “Why did you involve him? He’s a homicide cop. What does he care about our situation?”

  “He’s a good cop and he knows about your father. I think he’s trying to prevent more trouble.” Henry squirmed in his seat. “He agreed to have a patrol officer keep an eye on Nina at work, too. I didn’t know about the secret plot to take over the state at the time, so he’s not involved with that.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you mention it to me?” Sam twisted in the booth to get a better view of what was happening outside.

  “Because it’s part of my job to keep you safe, isn’t it? You don’t need to know how I do it.”

  “Don’t you think it would help if I were at least aware of what you’re doing?” Sam’s anger slipped out. “I’m not a little kid or some helpless female. If I know what’s going on, maybe I can help.”

  Henry didn’t appear fazed by her outburst. “You’ve got a lot on your mind. Let me do my job.”

  She fell silent while the wai
tress brought their sandwiches, but she must have picked up on their dispute: she backed away quickly and threw a small smile Henry’s way.

  Sam smiled at the woman’s back. “Think she’s trying to salvage her tip?”

  Henry threw a glance in the waitress’s direction. “Maybe. But let’s stay on topic here. If you want me to clear everything I do with you, I don’t think I can do a good job. Sometimes I have to make split-second decisions and can’t be worrying about your feelings.”

  Sam knew he was right. It was just her urge for control. She’d have to learn how to preserve her authority without turning into a bullying boss. The problem was she didn’t know how to do it, but this wasn’t the place to get into some deep discussion about any shortcomings.

  She took a bite of the surprisingly good corned beef, chewed, and swallowed. “You’re right. But I’d still like to know when you do something that involves me.”

  Henry’s dimple reappeared as he took a drink. “I’ll try to keep you informed. This idea about contacting Matthews just popped into my head this morning. Maybe I should have cleared it with you, but you were in the shower and I knew you wanted to get moving as soon as we could. Plus, I didn’t know how he would take it.”

  “And I’m sorry I got bent out of shape.” She realized she had nothing to be angry about. It all worked out. The cops would keep the guy occupied while they finished their lunch. She doubted they could arrest him with no proof except Henry’s word that he accosted them yesterday. But maybe it would be a wake-up call for him and keep him out of their way. “And I promise to be more aware of what’s going on around me. I know I said I would before and I didn’t do too well today. I never noticed that car following us until White Cloud mentioned it.”

  “Between the two of us, we should be able to spot any trouble. It was a good step to hire him for the entire day. He can be pretty helpful.”

  “More so now that we’re dealing with Native Americans. I have a hard time trying to understand their outlook. You’d think I’d be better at it since I grew up in New Mexico and went to school with a lot of Apaches and Navajos.”