by Rhona Weaver
Chapter Eighteen
Everyone was still in good spirits when they arrived at the backcountry ranger station after their very early morning horseback ride from the warming cabin. Win was saying goodbye to his frisky little horse when they received the news that both of the rescued hikers were expected to survive the ordeal. The man was still in critical condition at Eastern Idaho Regional Medical Center in Idaho Falls, but the boy had been upgraded to good condition this morning. That news cheered the rangers even more.
Win briefly checked in with Jim West on the satellite phone—no progress on the hunt for the sniper, but the Bureau’s revered Hostage Rescue Team had mobilized and would arrive late today. The HRT advance people would be in Mammoth by noon to plan a preemptive strike on the church compound. Everyone in the office was hyped up over that significant development. Win wasn’t due back until one o’clock, and he was hoping to see more of the park. He wasn’t, however, expecting Trey Hechtner to be the one who proposed the idea.
“I’ve got a place you might like to see on the way back toward Mammoth. I’ll send the other boys on back and you can ride there with me,” Trey offered.
“Okay, sure.” It seemed a little unusual to be breaking up the protection detail, but Win thought this might be a good chance to improve his standing with the guy. Trey had been on and off the satellite phone all morning; maybe he’d gotten a report that changed his attitude for the better. Whatever it was, Win was glad the ranger had dropped the cold-shoulder routine with him.
They followed two SUVs of rangers on the road back to Mammoth, but Trey slowed several times, pointing out mountain ranges or buffalo bulls or other things of interest, and they soon fell far behind the others. They finally turned onto a snow-covered road running west from the highway. Trey stopped at a locked gate with a sign reading Authorized Vehicles Only and handed Win the gate key. They drove down the slushy, rough road into a spectacular upland valley filled with large evergreen trees, massive yellow sandstone boulders, and wispy waterfalls. Snowbanks still hugged the sides of shaded canyons. Trey explained that earthquake activity sixty years ago had made the surrounding cliffs unstable—the secluded paradise was closed to visitors decades ago, and funds were never available to reopen it.
He parked the Tahoe under a towering Engelmann spruce and they both pulled on heavier coats and clipped water bottles to their belts. Trey handed Win a ball cap and volunteered to carry the bear spray. Win could tell the area held some sentimental attraction for the ranger; he found himself thinking it was an awful shame this beautiful place wasn’t developed for the public. They hiked through the old-growth woods on a moderately sloping trail for about a mile, then branched onto a faint path leading up a near-vertical hillside.
“This high ridge has always been one of my favorite spots. You can see forever. It’s just off the beaten path. Nearly to the top. . . . Ice on the rocks here. . . .” Trey was moving up the steep side of the ridge like a mountain goat, talking all the time.
The guy is chatty all of a sudden, Win was thinking, as he clawed his way over a downed tree and tried to keep up. As they climbed higher, the deep forest gave way to scattered clusters of twisted trees, large boulders, and small, rocky bluffs.
“Last little climb. . . . It’s slippery here. I’ll give you a hand up—grab hold.” The ranger reached down for him.
Win grabbed the extended hand and began pulling himself over the slick rocks jutting across the game trail. Hechtner pulled Win up over the last icy rock with a strong left hand and deftly lifted Win’s Glock from its holster with his right hand. The man quickly backed two steps away.
Win stood on the edge of the small bluff, winded and stunned. “What . . . what do you think . . . what do you think you’re doing!” he gasped.
Trey kept the pistol pointed right between Win’s feet—not directly at him, but damn close enough. His gray eyes were impossible to read. Both men stood there for a minute and caught their breath from the climb.
“Move on up the trail ahead of me.” Trey motioned with the gun.
They were on top of a narrow, high ridge that seemed to overlook the entire world. At any other time, Win would have been awestruck by the scale of the view, but with the man who’d been entrusted to protect him now holding his own .40 caliber weapon on him, the view was the furthest thing from his mind. He was desperately trying to figure this one out.
Win stopped in a small clearing, just back from the edge of a cliff that fell off to who knows where. Hechtner motioned for Win to sit down on a rock and then did the same, about twenty feet away. The pistol hadn’t moved, but Win could see the man’s finger was on the trigger guard, not the trigger. That gave him a little relief but did nothing to clear the confusion.
“Now we wait a few minutes. . . . Might as well enjoy the view.” Trey’s voice gave no clue to his intent.
“Trey, I don’t know what you’ve got in mind, but is it worth losing your job? Your career?”
“Just sit tight. Put your hands on your knees where I can see them,” Trey replied. None of the hardness in those eyes had softened.
Less than a minute passed, and Win heard a soft whistle down the ridge. Hechtner’s eyes darted to the right as he answered back with an identical whistle. Win took a deep breath and tried to steady himself for whoever was coming. He focused inward for a second; his heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and his palms were sweaty. He forced himself to remain calm. His eyes swept the expanse of the view for a moment. Snowcapped mountains climbed into the crystal-blue sky far to the east; a long, narrow turquoise lake shimmered and sparkled hundreds of feet below; and rolling forests in shades of green marched up the slopes of the lower mountains across the lake. The colors were changing every second as the sun rose higher in the sky. If I have to die today—
He shook his head to clear that thought from his mind.
Luke Bordeaux appeared thirty feet from Trey as if by magic. Win had no idea who was coming up that slope, but Luke Bordeaux hadn’t crossed his mind.
“He give you any trouble?” Luke casually asked Hechtner.
“Nope, but I thought he might be a bit jumpy considering everything, so I figured I’d hold onto his gun.”
“Not a bad idea,” Luke replied as he walked to the edge of the clearing and stood in the shadow of a boulder.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on here?” Win’s voice was harsh as he stood. He was quickly becoming more angry than puzzled or afraid.
Trey nodded to Luke and began to lower the pistol.
Luke raised his chin toward Win. “Got ourselves a problem, and Trey called this here powwow to see if we could sort it out. You gonna listen or not?”
Trey spoke up. “I wasn’t sure we could trust you. But you nearly getting yourself killed yesterday morning did sorta rule you out as one of the bad guys.”
“Luke, you sent me the warning yesterday.” Win said it more as a statement than as a question. He saw surprise register on the ranger’s face. Hechtner hadn’t known about the warning.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Were you the shooter?” Win had to ask the question.
“No, no . . .” Then Luke smiled broadly. “Heck, Win, if I’d been the shooter, you wouldn’t be joining our little get-together here today.”
Win was seeing none of the humor in that, but the man’s confidence in his ability with a gun was sobering. He lowered his voice. “Alright, I’m listening.”
Luke crossed his arms and locked eyes with Win. “Well, it’s obvious somethin’ big is fixin’ to happen. I took a different way of lookin’ at it since they took the shot at you. Before it was just folks exercising their rights in a free country to be who they wanted to be, but now . . . now they’ve moved beyond that. They’ve taken to killin’.
“And the FBI is running the show—or trying to. Somebody supposed to be shadowing me and here I am! Four miles south of
Mammoth, and seven miles from where I lost ’em at dawn. How do you reckon I knew the surveillance rotation and dropped ’em this morning? How ’bout the shooter yesterday, Win? Knew your routine and the air coverage so well that, from what I hear, he came within inches of gettin’ you.”
“You accusing us of incompetence, or something else . . . someone on the inside?”
“Maybe a little of both.” Luke looked off toward the far mountains. “That’s why we’re here this fine morning lookin’ at the scenery.” His dark eyes moved back to Win. “I think there’s either someone on the inside or one helluva intel leak.” He nodded toward the ranger. “Trey don’t wanna see the park’s image get damaged. I couldn’t care less about that, but I don’t wanna see good people get drug into a shootin’ war with the Feds over a bunch of outlaws.”
As he listened to Luke’s explanation, Win was quickly trying to calculate what the two men might know. Trey wouldn’t know about the deployment of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. He wouldn’t know about the proposed takedown of the ex-cons at the church compound. He might know about the surveillance aircraft and drones, but Win wasn’t sure. Trey was on the Joint Terrorism Task Force, but Ms. Stuart had refused to activate any non-Bureau JTTF officers. Win doubted if any case information had been shared with anyone below Gus’s level at the Park Service. As for Luke, he wouldn’t know about any of those plans or assets.
Luke was waiting for Win’s response. The cold wind whipped through their little clearing as the sun found them and began its day’s work of warming the high cliffs. Win stood facing the men. He didn’t say anything.
Luke leaned back into the shadow of the rocks and spoke again. “Reckon if I’s you, I might be thinkin’ them boys is gonna trick me into telling the FBI’s plan, then push me over that 1,500-foot cliff and nobody would be the wiser fer it. Is that it, Win Tyler?”
“Suppose that crossed my mind,” Win answered.
“Well now, you ain’t the only one of us havin’ a hard time figuring out who to trust, and I sure as hell ain’t excited ’bout being here, but Trey asked me to come . . . so I come.” He squared his shoulders and looked hard at Win. “Occurs to me if a disaster is gonna be averted, we need to commit to the action, as they’d say in the Army.”
Win hesitated. He had to be really careful here. Luke was only stating the obvious; that was the oldest trick in the book. What if these men were after information? What if they were the bad guys? They had his gun, that was one indicator. Without a word, Win walked to where Hechtner sat and held his hand out for the weapon. Trey stood and handed it back, grip first. Win met his eyes and saw a fleeting glimpse of fear dart through them. Trey knew if Win reported this, he wouldn’t just lose his job. He could very well go to prison.
Win took his time checking the chamber and the magazine on the weapon. He was stalling and trying to gather his thoughts. His mind flew back to the conversation with his brother a few nights ago: “I’m having trouble knowing who I can trust. Trouble trusting my judgment of people.” Test the spirits. That’s what he’d told Ellie. Test the spirits, Win.
His eyes went back to Hechtner; he was standing close to the man. “So what do you have to gain in this, Trey? Hell of a lot to lose, I’d say, going around your bosses to get me off up here and lifting my gun. . . . What’s in this for you?”
Trey drew in a long breath. “I asked Luke to meet ’cause things are getting outa hand, and the Park Service is totally out of the loop. This is my home—I’m raising my family here. Mammoth is starting to feel like an armed camp! We’ve got a missing informant, money on the street for intel, and then a sniper in the park . . . and I’m told to stand around and basically do nothing! I represent the law in Yellowstone—that’s what my badge says—but I get relegated to traffic control and guarding you.” He glanced toward Bordeaux. “Luke was the one who wanted you here. I called to warn him away from that church . . . and to see if he could help.” Trey’s eyes moved back to Win’s face. “We’re supposed to be on the same side here!”
But Win’s anger hadn’t passed, and as he holstered the Glock, he stepped even closer and glared into the man’s eyes. “This isn’t a difficult concept! There’s the good guys and the bad guys! You say we’re on the same side? Then what kinda dumbass move was that? Taking my gun! Lording it over me? And why? ’Cause you got some problem with the FBI over something I had nothing to do with.” He was fuming. Be smart . . . be cool. Don’t let rage control you! But he didn’t want to be cool. He wanted to lash out, to prove he couldn’t be defeated so easily. Weakness. He’d shown weakness.
Trey never backed up an inch. His voice was intense and threatening. “Back away from me, Tyler! You think you’re in charge—why? ’Cause you work for some big-shot agency! This is my turf. This park is what I’m sworn to protect! And you cut us out, just ’cause of three initials after your name: F-B-I!”
Oddly enough, Luke stepped in as the voice of reason. “You young bucks wanna settle this with a duel, I’ll call out the damn paces, but it occurs to me that we got more pressin’ matters at hand than you two trying to prove who’s the top rooster. Both of you dial it back and settle down! I didn’t make a seven-mile hike to watch you bicker like schoolgirls.”
Hechtner cut his eyes toward Luke, then raised his chin slightly and moved back half a step. Win acknowledged that with a small nod and blew out a breath. “We’re not done yet, Trey . . . but he’s right. This isn’t the time or the place.”
Luke called their little meeting to order. “Over here under the trees, just in case the drone pilot is paying attention. Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while.”
Well, so much for subject awareness of that surveillance asset, Win thought as he sat down on a rock outcropping near Luke.
“The heavies are out of the compound—all of them by now. I was one of the last to go before dawn this morning,” Luke began. “Brother King’s men took advantage of the scrambling your watchers did after the shooting to get out of Dodge yesterday and last night.” He eased down on a log near the edge of the cliff. “The Prophet came back from his trip flush with cash and paid all the militia guys fer the time they’ve put in. He gave me the money he owed me last night.”
“Where’d they go? Who left the church compound?” Trey asked.
“All seven of Ron King’s guys are out. They also picked eight of my church militia guys to go. All eight of those men have been working with me for months and are hard-core followers. They were moving into prearranged places in Gardiner and the park. Some of the hideouts I know, some I don’t. Gonna lay low until you raid the church or their play goes down.”
Win was watching Trey’s face off and on while Luke spoke. He could tell the ranger was shocked by what he was hearing.
“So what’s the play?” Win asked Luke.
“Don’t know, ’cept your name’s still on the list. After I got my pay last night, I hada feeling things was gonna get worse, so I managed to meet up with a couple of King’s boys, the Thayer brothers, at a house in Gardiner. Took two bottles of Jack Daniel’s over to celebrate our big training exercise. Those boys got real talkative.”
Luke paused and looked down. His voice became more subdued. “Hit man is Richter, a pro. He was the shooter yesterday. Seems his connection with some of King’s bunch may be through prison, white supremacy group, that’s what it sounded like—but the boys I was with hadn’t seen the guy lately, just heard he was in the area. They didn’t know who put out the contract. They’d heard about the job . . . ahhh . . . they’d heard the job wasn’t finished.” He looked into Win’s eyes. “Both of those men I was a drinkin’ with . . . mean as snakes. Both of them scared to death of Richter.”
Good Lord!
The mood was beyond sober. “Hear anything ’bout how he might come after me?”
“Naw, no idea. The warning I sent you was a fluke. Just heard talk right fore the militia’s muster.
” Luke studied his boot. “I don’t know the shooter’s connection with the rest of the bunch, but I’d bet the Prophet ain’t in on it.”
Win nodded a couple of times and changed the topic. “Why would the Prophet think anyone would attack his compound?”
“’Cause your HRT has a raid planned fer dawn day after tomorrow, that’s why.”
Win had to fight to keep a straight face. No way Luke has that information without someone on the inside.
Luke went on to detail what he’d heard on the deployment of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team and his knowledge of the various surveillance methods the Bureau was using. He knew about their continued JTTF and SWAT presence, right down to the number of agents and where everyone was staying. It was almost as if the guy was working in their offices. After a couple of minutes, he wrapped it up.
“Seems to me the church has been gettin’ real good intel for ’bout ten days now. That oughta narrow it down some fer ya.”
Trey had hardly spoken since they’d sat down, so Win asked him about his earlier comment that there was “money on the street for intel.”
“I got word from another ranger several days ago that he’d heard someone was offering $10,000 for information on the FBI. We weren’t really on the case, so I reported it to Gus and he got with your counterterrorism lady. Don’t know where it went from there.”
Win had an idea it went nowhere from there if Emily got intel from the group she kept referring to as “the Yellowstone police.” Nothing on this had crossed his desk.
Trey went on, “I chalked it up to rumors until the shooting early yesterday. That’s when I put out the word among our friends in Gardiner that I wanted to talk to Luke. Luke left me a coded message on the satellite phone from a burner phone after you arrived at the station yesterday afternoon. I got back with him on the sat phone before dawn this morning.”