by E B Corbin
“She knows,” said Toby. “That’s why she wants me to stay out of it.”
“What do you think you can do to prevent it?”
Toby frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing, but I have to try. What are you doing about it?”
“I have a plan.” Henry touched Toby’s arm and turned him around. “Let’s go inside. I’ll tell you about it.”
White Cloud didn’t move until Sam stepped onto the path leading to the front door. Then he followed her inside, taking one last glance at the street.
Nina sat in an easy chair in front of the window. She had a crumpled tissue in her lap and looked at them with red-rimmed eyes as they entered. “You have come to a decision?”
“I think so,” Henry said and told them about his plan to sneak into the compound tonight. “I’ll destroy the missiles, one way or the other.”
“What if you’re caught?” Toby stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I won’t be caught if I’m careful.”
Toby snorted. “You’ll need help.”
“It would be easier if I had someone to act as a lookout.”
“What about me?” Toby stood straight, looking back and forth between Henry and White Cloud.
Henry looked at the floor, then at Nina. “What are your feelings about this?”
Nina hesitated “I do not like it, but if Toby can be of help, I suppose he should go with you.”
Henry gave a brief nod. “You can help destroy the warheads—there are ten of them to deactivate. But you must be careful. I don’t need you blowing yourself up, or me.”
Toby opened and closed his hands. “I’m good at dealing with mechanical things.”
“He is,” his mother said. “I do not like it, but…”
“It is a good plan,” White Cloud said, finishing her sentence.
“That’s it then. I’m going with you,” Toby said.
“It could work,” Nina said with resignation.
Henry looked at Sam, who remained silent. He clapped his hands once. “Well then, let’s head out to the reservation and pull this together.”
They piled into the taxi. Henry took the back seat to keep an eye on Sam. Toby bounced around in the front seat, his enthusiasm barely contained. Sam stared out the side window, lost in her own thoughts.
She ran her hands up and down her arms, fearful that if she didn’t keep shifting, her muscles would freeze and she wouldn’t be able to move at all. The terror of being completely incapacitated was something she never wanted to experience again.
Henry tried to take her mind off her fears. “You can stay with White Cloud and Thomas while we’re gone tonight.”
“I am going with you,” White Cloud said without looking away from the road. “There is no barrier between the reservation and the compound where they are joined. I spent many days in my youth exploring the area. I can help you get to wherever they are holding the missiles. Besides, you said you needed a lookout—”
“That’s great,” Toby interrupted. “I’ve spent some time on the rez, but not enough to know my way around.”
Anticipating Henry’s objection, White Cloud continued, “Sam will be safe with Uncle. He has many students who will stay with them.”
“I don’t have any problem staying behind.” Sam spoke for the first time since they started the trip. She knew that Henry was worried about her and that she had to snap out of her lethargy. She tried to concentrate on what the others would be doing that night. “What if they have guards at night?”
“I don’t think they do,” said Henry. “They’re confident no one on the compound will mess with the locks on the shed. These people are almost brainwashed to think their actions are God’s will.”
“You think those skinheads and bikers believe in God?” Sam straightened from her slouch, determined to stay focused on their current mission.
“Some of them do. Most of them just want a sovereign nation so they can drive drunk and not have to worry about some cop pulling them over. They say they want freedom, but they don’t know what the word means.”
When the taxi arrived at Thomas’s cabin, the elder was standing on the porch. He led them inside and called his granddaughter for refreshments.
“Tell me what you are planning.” Thomas sat at the head of the table and instructed them to take a seat. He looked at Toby. “I see you have finally decided to accept your forefathers.”
Toby squirmed in his chair. “I, uh, I don’t know. I know I can’t let some asshole skinheads destroy what my mother believes in.”
Thomas studied Toby. “Nina has raised you well.”
“Thank you, sir.” Toby looked abashed; he knew to show respect to the elder.
“So…” Thomas turned his attention to Henry. “You have a plan to destroy the missiles.”
Henry nodded. “I do, sir. I think we should be able to destroy all the missiles tonight but, just in case, would you consider postponing the powwow for a week or so?”
Thomas shook his head. “I am afraid it is too late. Many of the participants have already arrived and are camping out. Others are on their way from Washington and Idaho. We have no way of contacting all of them in time.”
“In that case, we’ll have to make sure we succeed tonight.” Henry looked from White Cloud to Toby. They nodded.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Thomas had an old map of the reservation that showed the compound the way it had been fifty years ago, when a dairy farm operated on the land. He thought the outbuildings had either been torn down or converted to another use. His scouts had no recent knowledge of the acreage. They only knew what they could see from the edge of the reservation—they didn’t dare step foot on the land after the white supremacists moved in.
Henry used his finger to follow the road he’d taken yesterday and had a pretty good idea of the location of the shed. He noticed a flat area several hundred yards away that looked like the clearing where the men had indicated they would fire from. He marked both locations with an X.
White Cloud had been watching over his shoulder. “We can go in from here.” He pointed to a short path on the reservation that continued into the compound.
“Are you sure there’s no fence along the boundary?”
“My scouts have checked it out.” Thomas took the pencil from Henry and drew a line on the map. “There is new fencing with barbed wire on top about halfway along the border. They have not had time to finish it. They stopped working on it last week. I do not know why. We have kept a close watch in that area.”
“So that means we go in from here,” White Cloud said, pointing to an area about two inches away from the path.
“How far is that in feet?” Henry asked.
“About fifteen hundred feet. Not too far. We will reach the missiles twenty minutes after we enter their land.”
A young Native American entered the cabin and spoke to Thomas in a language Henry did not understand. He looked to White Cloud for translation.
“Sitting Bear says that there are many young braves who are willing to go with you tonight.”
Henry rubbed his jaw with his hand. “Tell them thank you, we appreciate it, but we can’t have too many people on the compound. If they can stay on the reservation side of the border, well hidden, in case we need to make a quick escape, that would be good.”
When all the plans were made, Thomas served them salmon and a stew made of corn, squash, and beans. Sam had never tasted a stew without meat as good as this one. She didn’t cook much but she asked for the recipe.
Henry glanced up from his plate when Sam spoke to Thomas’s granddaughter. It was the first time he’d heard her talk in a normal voice about a normal topic since they’d rescued her. Maybe she was getting over it. He noticed Thomas had also been slyly watching Sam and wondered if the Native American sensed the difference in his guest.
The meal lasted for a couple of hours, and darkness had fallen while they ate. Henry wanted to wait until after mi
dnight, preferably even later, to breach the compound. “I need to pick up a few things to take with us. Is there a hardware store nearby?”
White Cloud smiled. “This is not Portland. We do not have a Home Depot on the reservation.”
“There is an old lumber mill,” Thomas told him. “They have many tools. What do you need?”
Henry recited the list he’d made in his head and Thomas nodded. “You should be able to find those there. White Cloud can take you.”
“What about me?” Toby pushed back from the table. “I should have some tools, too.”
Thomas sighed. “Very well. Go with them. I will call the guards and tell them to give you what you need.”
Through the window, Sam watched the taxi bounce down the dirt road and wished she was going with them. She’d felt so useless and uncomfortable since her ordeal yesterday. She tried to smile at Thomas. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while.”
“I sense you need some time to come to terms with your experience from yesterday.” Thomas grabbed a pipe and started to fill it with tobacco. “They will be gone a while. Why don’t we sit out on the porch? My granddaughter does not allow me to smoke in my own house.”
Sam followed the old man onto the porch, scanning the woods for anything out of place. She wouldn’t let her guard down even though she knew they were more than safe. She felt certain no one on the reservation would let any harm come to Thomas—nor her by association.
Thomas picked up on her unease. “It is safe. My students have the cabin surrounded.”
“I know that—in my head,” Sam said. “It’s my gut that keeps giving me trouble.”
“We were all very concerned yesterday when you went missing.” Thomas chose the rocker and eased into it. “That woman must have been quite cunning to take you from a public place the way she did.”
“She’s sly, I’ll give her that.” Sam leaned against the porch post and gazed out into the darkness. “And evil, too. I think she’s some sort of hit woman, or something like that. She had all kinds of drugs, guns, knives, and other devices.” Sam shook her head. “I still can’t believe Henry and White Cloud found me. I was completely helpless for several hours from whatever it was she injected me with.”
Thomas puffed on his pipe as he lit it. “There are many potions that can have such an effect. It takes several days to get it all out of your system.”
“Well, I’d rather look down the barrel of a gun than feel that way again. Even now, I sense I’m a different person.” Sam moved to a chair next to Thomas. “I was never a nervous person—no matter what I had to deal with. But, now, I feel… I just feel… Oh, hell. I don’t know how I feel, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Thomas pulled a small pouch out of his pocket. He held it out to her by a skinny black rope. “This will help.”
Sam studied the pouch, turning it over in her hands. There was a faint, pleasant aroma, but nothing she could pinpoint. She decided what the hell—couldn’t hurt—and slipped it over her head. The rope was long enough to permit the pouch to rest between her breasts, and she felt more at ease the minute she put it on. She figured the reaction was all in her head, but she’d try anything at this point.
“Thank you,” she told Thomas.
The elder had a small smile on his face that Sam interpreted as satisfaction.
A set of headlights appeared on the dirt lane. Sam sat up straight, watching as they grew closer. She expected, but didn’t experience, panic at the unknown arrival.
“It is White Cloud and the others,” Thomas said as he puffed on his pipe without turning his head to see the lights. “I recognize the sound of his engine.”
When the taxi stopped a few feet from the porch, Henry was the first one out. He walked to the rear and opened the trunk, passing a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, and a flashlight to Toby. He grabbed the same for himself, filling his jacket pockets with the items before he passed a long-handled bolt cutter to White Cloud.
The men joined Sam and Thomas on the porch. Toby sat on the top step; Henry moved closer to Sam to observe her without being obvious. She looked more at peace than she had all day. He had no idea what caused the change, but he attributed it to time spent with the elder and his calming influence.
White Cloud said to Uncle, “I need to choose a weapon.”
Uncle nodded. “You know where they are.”
Sam tried to remain silent, but her curiosity got the better of her. “A weapon?”
“Yes, since my favored one has been confiscated by the police, I need another.”
Sam realized he meant the tomahawk he had used two weeks ago to save her from the clutches of Big John. One of the detectives, James Munroe, was obsessed with finding the owner of the weapon, which was embedded in the back of the criminal, and arresting the person responsible, even though it was done in defense of Sam. White Cloud was nowhere to be found on that day, but Sam and Henry knew. They never said a word to Munroe.
Henry leaned against the porch post. “I’d like to scout the area before we go in.”
“That is wise,” Thomas said.
“I’ll go with you.” Toby jumped up, enthusiasm beaming from his face.
“You stay here for now. White Cloud can show me. Three of us don’t need to be seen traipsing around the border.”
The look on Toby’s face showed he wanted to argue, but Thomas spoke to the young man. “We would feel better with someone to stay with us.”
Toby appeared mollified. Sam knew Thomas didn’t need Toby for protection. His students were silently watching over the elder’s cabin and would not let any harm come to them. Thomas had a way about him that made people want to please him. She’d felt that way since the first day they met.
White Cloud joined them on the porch, a tomahawk slung over his back along with the bolt cutter. “I am ready.”
Sam watched them sprint along a path leading from the rear of the cabin until they were out of sight. She didn’t enjoy sitting around doing nothing, but she knew she would only be in the way in the woods. Stealth and covert ops were not her forte. She settled into the chair next to Thomas, sorry that they could not continue their private conversation.
Toby sat on the top step, drumming his fingers on his thighs and tapping his feet, swiveling his head to gaze over the woods in front. Sam wanted to tell him that she doubted they’d be attacked on the reservation tonight, but she didn’t want to dampen his enthusiasm.
Thomas rocked slowly back and forth, quietly puffing on his pipe.
Sam listened to the night sounds of the desert: the yip of a coyote, the throaty croak of frogs, the underlying chirp of crickets. It lulled her into a state of subliminal peace. Her eyes grew heavy until she had a hard time holding her head up.
Without a sound, White Cloud appeared in the glow of the porch light and signaled for Toby to come. “It is time.”
Toby started, jerking his hand to the flashlight he had placed in his denim jacket. “Jesus Christ! You scared the shit out of me!”
White Cloud only smiled.
Sam was instantly alert. “Where’s Henry?”
“He stayed behind to keep watch for guards making rounds on the perimeter of the compound. If we know the timing of the patrols, it will help us avoid a confrontation.”
Sam had been resting her head against the seat back and felt spittle dripping down her chin. She quickly wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. God! She’d overcome her paramount fear of not being able to move and replaced it with drooling like an octogenarian.
Toby jumped from the top step to the ground with a thud. “I’m ready.”
“You must learn to walk with little sound.” White Cloud turned and started back the way he came without waiting for Toby.
Thomas smiled. “It is too bad White Cloud’s destiny leads him on another path. He would make a valuable teacher and elder when the time comes.”
“Another path?” Sam asked.
“Yes, when he left the reservation to li
ve in the city, I feared we had lost him. But he continued his training and came back often enough in order to retain his knowledge. Now, I’m afraid, his spirit guide is leading him away.”
Sam didn’t know what to say. The thought of hiring White Cloud to aid in her quest to return the money had occurred to her, yet she was still undecided. If the Native American would be giving up his place in his community to work with her, she didn’t want to be responsible for leading him astray. She sighed and stared out into the night.
“You must rest now,” Thomas said as he tapped the remaining tobacco from his pipe. “Come, there is a comfortable divan inside.”
Sam didn’t protest. The exhaustion from the restless night yesterday began to set in. She could barely keep her eyes open. She knew it would be hours before Henry returned and didn’t want to spend all that time worrying about something happening to him.
✽ ✽ ✽
Henry hunkered behind a fir tree, his eyes on the open space in the fence. The buzzing in his head remained constant. He’d spotted a small red light at one end of the fence and figured it was an infrared beam to warn of a breach in their perimeter where the fence had not been completed. He grabbed a fallen branch from an oak tree and tossed it into the compound. A crack, a small flash, and the branch landed on the other side. They would have to figure out a way to get through without giving themselves away.
He heard one set of heavy footsteps behind him and swung around to find White Cloud and Toby. He signaled for them to get down. White Cloud did so silently, Toby collapsed onto dry leaves with a rustling sound.
“Don’t move,” Henry ordered Toby in a whisper and held the young man in place. He expected someone to show up any minute to ascertain the reason for the breach in the fence.
Before he had time to turn around, they heard voices from the compound. The two men who’d been in the Hummer that afternoon were walking toward the gap in the fence. “We haven’t seen anything. Probably another coyote or squirrel. I’m getting tired of all these false alarms. I told them this electronic shit was a bad idea.”