by Rhona Weaver
So that’s how they set up this out-of-the-way get-together.
“Say . . . theoretically, what happens if law enforcement does raid the church compound to make fugitive arrests?” Win asked.
“Prophet’s countin’ on a raid, I think. Gonna video the whole deal and call in the press. CNN, Fox News, all those cable and network channels. The publicity won’t hurt any—further the cause, you see.” Luke paused and turned reflective. “Lots of comin’ and goin’ over the last few days, but I’d say at least fifty folks are stayin’ at the church full-time right now. My militia guys who are still there are squeaky clean. Anything you Feds could get bent outa shape over is gone. It’d be mostly women and children terrorized by a raid—a violent violation of our right of free assembly. And I’m afraid your boys might go off half-cocked and someone might get hurt. The church folks are under orders not to fight back, but you never know what will happen in the heat of the thing.”
Everyone sat there for a minute. Win couldn’t help but notice Luke’s references to “our right of free assembly” and “my militia guys.” Trey was swinging his ball cap in his hand and staring off into the mountains. Luke’s proprietary references hadn’t been lost on him either, and he finally asked, “Who you with on this, Luke?”
Luke’s eyes dropped, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his clasped hands. He stared off into the same horizon and suddenly seemed very sad.
“Would like to be on your side, Trey, but I reckon we both know that may not be possible—lot of water flowed under that bridge. I did the job I was contracted to do fer the church, and unless something changes I’m off the payroll there. Need to sort it out as to where I stand with the church. Ain’t got no loyalty to King’s boys, you kin see that, but the church . . . the Prophet, well, that’s different.”
Luke was becoming more uneasy, more wary, as their discussion turned in that direction. Luke leaned toward Trey, as if imploring him to understand. “I could see King’s men were up to no good and I gave Win some information on them last week. I ain’t askin’ for nothing in return, ’cept for Win to take care of Ellie and the kids if things don’t go good fer me when it all comes down.”
Luke hesitated, and Trey turned and met his eyes. Win could clearly see the pain in both men. Win suddenly knew who Sam was referring to last night. Trey’s “lost best friend” during the FBI poaching operation over a year ago was Luke Bordeaux. After a long moment Luke had had enough of it, as if he were afraid he might say something that shouldn’t be said. He stood quickly and looked down at Win.
“Y’all need to be gettin’ on back and figure this out.” He turned to walk away.
Win stood and stopped him with a light hand on his arm. “I’m much obliged, Luke, both for the heads-up yesterday and for coming here today. If they come after you, our emergency case code is ‘Roll Tide’. Call us with it and I’ll send the cavalry.”
Luke scoffed. “Who’s more likely to need that code, boy? Me or you?”
He never looked toward Hechtner, but Trey stood and called to him after he’d taken a few steps down the ridge. “Hey, Luke, you’ve done the right thing here!” When Luke turned, Trey brought his right palm across his heart in some sort of salute. Luke stood silently looking back at him; the sadness hadn’t left his face. Then he nodded slightly and returned the salute. Win was thinking these guys had watched a few too many gladiator movies, but he made a mental note to learn the meaning of some military hand signals.
Chapter Nineteen
Trey and Win made it down the ridge to the truck about as fast as could be done without breaking any bones. Trey got the SUV started, reached into the center console, and pulled out Win’s Bureau cell phone. Win hadn’t even missed it.
“When did you—”
“Got it out of your heavy coat when you opened the gate for us coming in. Didn’t want to take a chance on a locator. Sometimes there’s cell service up there.”
That didn’t help his feelings toward the ranger any, but Win had much bigger issues to deal with at the moment. His mind was sorting through the information they’d just learned. Luke had dropped some bombshells, not the least of which was that someone still wanted him dead.
Win stuck to the case as Trey moved the Tahoe down the messy road toward the highway. “Got any idea who might be on the inside?” he asked the ranger.
“A hacker? Or a bug?”
“The FBI office and our Justice Center rooms are swept every morning and night. All Bureau radio and phone signals are high-level encrypted. The email traffic has both classified and nonclassified servers, but I don’t know about that. Never was much of a tech guy.”
“Since word was on the street, so to speak, offering money for intel, it may be a very low-tech problem—a paid snitch or even someone who’s incredibly careless,” Trey said.
Win mulled that over as they neared the highway and cell phone service. He didn’t want to use the Bureau phones, so he called his supervisor’s personal cell from Trey’s satellite phone.
“Hey, Boss, this is Win. We’ve got a problem. I met with my source this morning. . . . Uh, long story, but there’s a major information leak back to the bad guys from our end.”
“What kind of leak? Surveillance? Tactical?” Win could tell his supervisor was sweating this.
“All of it. I’m thinking we need to get together and let me go over this with you and Ms. Stuart—maybe Johnson too if he’s made it back.” He glanced at his watch. It was after 11:30. “I’ll be in Mammoth soon. How about meeting at the hotel’s Map Room at one? Could make it look like everyone just went down for a late lunch. Keep it real quiet in the office and on communications.”
“Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah, Johnson came in today, and Mr. Givens has taken over since he arrived last night—I’ll get with him. Still no leads on the sniper, and you know we have, ah . . . friends coming in today.”
“Yes, sir, they’ll be interested in what’s said.”
Jim West rushed off the phone. Win’s boss was scrambling.
They rode the rest of the way in silence for the short drive to Mammoth. One of Trey’s rangers waved from the porch as they pulled up to Win’s house. After stopping the vehicle, Hechtner kept both hands on the steering wheel. He didn’t turn toward Win when he spoke. “If you’re going to have me arrested . . . I’d like . . . I’d like to have a few minutes to visit with my wife and daughter first.”
Win took his hand off the door handle and turned back to the man. “Arrested and charged with kidnapping and assaulting a federal officer?”
Trey was facing Win now. There was no pleading in those gray eyes. “I knew the risks. I thought the risks were worth taking.”
“Is it looking that way now?” Win kept all emotion out of his voice.
“Meeting Luke was the right thing to do. I had no reason to trust you and I didn’t think you’d meet Luke any other way. I had no idea you knew each other.”
Win sat back in the seat; he never dropped his eyes. Neither of them really trusted the other. Now Trey was obviously expecting him to take advantage of the information they’d gotten from Luke and then bring the hammer down on him as well. An effective way to get rid of the competition in a big-time federal case, Win supposed. Win had a sinking feeling this type of double cross had been effectively employed by the FBI agent who previously held his position.
Test the spirits, Win. The thought floated into his consciousness. The images that quickly ran through Win’s mind were of Trey’s care of the injured little boy and his father, of the heartache on his face as he watched Luke Bordeaux walk off that ridge, of the concern in his eyes as he asked Win on that cliff, “You in?” Win really wanted to believe Trey Hechtner was one of the good guys.
Win spoke slowly. “For the record, Trey, I didn’t appreciate sitting up on that cliff wondering if I was gonna be murdered with my own gun.
And I’m not so sure there wasn’t somethin’ else going on there . . . you trying to get back at the Bureau for some perceived affront by humiliating me. But I’m not gonna try to figure out where your head is on that.” He paused. “I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here. You had no way of knowing I’d already been getting information from Luke or how I’d react to him. Instead of having you arrested, how ’bout you call Chief Randall and Gus and invite them to the meeting. You get cleaned up, and y’all meet me at the hotel’s Map Room. Chief Randall would know about your previous relationship with Luke, right?”
Trey nodded, then added, “He knows we knew each other, but not how well we knew each other.”
“Okay then. As for this morning, after Luke reached back out to you and you told me about the contact, I insisted, since Luke is a confidential source for the FBI, that we meet with him and get the intel immediately. No time to plan anything else. Luke could’ve been spooked off if we both hadn’t been there.” Win shrugged with his eyebrows. “That sound to you about how it happened?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. But under no circumstances ever lie to an FBI agent—it’s against the law.” Win was smiling now. “Oh, I’ve wondered—is it against the law to lie to a park ranger?” His smile broadened. “You can answer that some other time.” He stepped out of the vehicle. “See you at the hotel at one.” He closed the truck door on the speechless ranger and walked to his front porch.
* * *
Win managed to get shaved, showered, and dressed in record time. He grabbed a blue blazer, downed a Coke and a handful of peanut butter crackers, and remembered to feed the cat at the last minute. Win and two plainclothes rangers made it to the hotel about twenty minutes before one, and he made sure the Map Room was reserved for their meeting. He’d just walked away from the front desk when he saw Tory exit the gift shop into the lobby.
Hello! Man, she looks good!
She spotted him at the same time and smiled that beautiful smile. He felt a flash of nervousness as he searched his suddenly blank mind for anything intelligent to say to her. He glanced over at one of his security guys. The ranger was dressed as a tourist, leaning against the lobby’s staircase. He immediately gave Win a sharp What do you think you’re doing? look as Win started to walk toward Tory.
“Hey, nice to see you again so soon. Buying souvenirs?” Okay, good opening . . .
“Had to get something to send my niece and nephew. What do you think?” She held up two little stuffed brown bears and two tiny T-shirts.
“Good choices unless they’re teenagers,” he offered. “Still enjoying your break from the woods?”
He was thinking she was every bit as pretty as yesterday, with her hair pulled back in a wide barrette and a hint of makeup. She was wearing a blue cowl-necked sweater, black jeans, and boots. Her voice was upbeat and she seemed glad to see him; that helped tamp his nerves down a bit.
“It’s been so nice to have hot showers and sleep in a real bed! We leave for Bozeman in a half hour, so I’ve been packing. Thought you were out of town?”
“Drove in a few minutes ago. Got a meeting here at one.”
“Oh, I have something for you. . . . If you have time, walk over to my cabin with me and I’ll give it to you before we leave.”
He remembered Luke’s words: Your name’s still on the list. He looked at his watch and casually scanned the lobby. Two rangers with him. Heck, let them do a little work. “Okay. I have to get back pretty quick.”
“No worries, I’m in one of the cabins right behind the hotel.” She led off toward the back entrance to the lobby and he followed, passing right by the second ranger, who was pretending to browse through the hotel’s brochure display. The guy gave him a serious Are you out of your mind? look, but Win ignored him. Win was holding the back door of the lobby open for her when he bumped into a solid man who quickly turned down the hallway. The guy didn’t speak, but a hint of apprehension swept over Win. The man seemed vaguely familiar. He shrugged it off as the rangers stepped in behind and followed them across the back lawn toward the small cabins.
He stood in the open doorway of her cabin and leaned against the doorframe as she went inside. Tory had all her gear out on the bed—obviously packing. She dug through a computer bag for whatever it was she had for him. She hadn’t invited him inside—that was good and proper given what they knew of each other at this point, which was not much. She found an envelope and handed it to him. Inside were three copies of a really good photo of him holding up the grizzly bear cub. It was taken the moment he’d wished the little fella a good life. He looked really happy in the picture.
“One of the technicians took the photo and gave it to me and I had three copies made. Thought you might want to keep one, maybe send one to your mother . . . maybe one to a girlfriend back home?”
He smiled down at her. “No girlfriend back home.”
“Was kinda hoping you’d say that.”
“The photos are really thoughtful. Thank you.”
They stood in the cool breeze on the cabin’s porch and he told her about the huge bear he’d seen in the park yesterday. He figured the trip with the rangers wasn’t case related, so no harm in talking about it. She said she wanted to hear every detail, and he promised he’d call her in the next couple of days. He stepped off the porch with only two minutes to spare before the meeting and wished her a good trip. The plainclothes ranger lounging over near the next cabin glared at Win as if he could kill him himself, and Win tried real hard not to smile.
* * *
The Mammoth Hotel’s Map Room was a large, airy room adjoining the lobby. It had a small bar and was used for social activities. The park’s 1920s wooden map of America took up most of one wall, hence the name of the room. Win got to the room’s frosted-glass doors just as Trey, Gus, and Chief Randall walked through the hotel entrance. Win had never seen Trey in his dress uniform, and he was impressed. The guy looked sharp enough to be on a recruiting poster. All three rangers wore dark-green slacks, jackets, and ties with gray dress shirts and tan flat hats. The brass on their cordovan leather gun belts and badges flashed in the lobby’s overhead lights. Chief Randall led the handsome group; his stern bearing conveyed the seriousness of the meeting.
Mr. Givens greeted the rangers and gave Win a questioning look as they all moved to a large table at the rear of the room. Jim West arrived a couple of minutes later with SSA Stuart, Johnson, and a slender, fortyish-looking guy with military written all over him. Emily Stuart sat down across from Win and he forced himself to nod and smile at her. He was determined to take Jim West’s advice and build some rapport—think of her as Emily, call her by that name, lighten up a bit. But as the doors were being closed, Emily shocked him by asking Chief Randall to have Win’s security detail of park rangers relieved. She told the Chief she’d have FBI agents resume that duty if she felt it was necessary. It was a quirky ploy of one-upmanship that implied to the Chief Ranger that his men weren’t up to the task. Now no one was watching Win’s back—he was completely at the mercy of one of Emily’s whims.
As they settled around the table, the newcomer was introduced as Supervisory Special Agent Kirk Phillips, the on-scene commander of the Hostage Rescue Team, who’d arrived from Quantico minutes ago. He’d be in charge of the two nine-member HRT teams that would roll in later today.
The mood in the impromptu meeting was tense as Win and Trey recounted the morning’s meeting with Luke Bordeaux. Both men avoided the lead-up to the rendezvous with Luke, and Trey’s previous relationship with Bordeaux was downplayed. To say there was a serious intelligence leak within the federal operation was a vast understatement. The proposed raid of the compound, with the plan to arrest anyone in violation of anything more serious than a parking ticket, was clearly compromised. The church members were not only aware of the timing of the raid, they were actively preparing for it. No one wanted a repeat of the
Waco tragedy, yet everyone wanted the criminal elements in the cult off the street. But raiding the compound would be pointless if Bordeaux’s information was correct. Was it possible that the most dangerous subjects had eluded the Bureau’s ring of watchers and were now roaming the park and surrounding community? Trey concluded their presentation with a report on the continued threat on Win’s life. After Trey wrapped it up, everyone sat for a long moment in disbelief that so much sensitive information could have fallen into the wrong hands.
From that point on, the two-agency meeting became contentious. As the supervisor in charge of Denver’s Domestic Counterterrorism Squad, Emily said she would moderate any further discussion of the case. Why Mr. Givens allowed her to run the show was beyond Win’s grasp. Emily wasn’t even willing to admit to the rangers that a preemptive assault on the compound had been planned or that the Bureau’s Nightstalker airplane existed, much less concede that it was conducting electronic and heat-seeking surveillance every night over the subjects’ known locations. As Win pointed out, if the bad guys knew about the proposed raid and the aircraft surveillance, then the Park Service’s knowledge of it certainly couldn’t jeopardize their case.
Emily’s arrogant possessiveness of every aspect of the case was demoralizing even to Win. It was as if it were a game with her—as if she couldn’t see the real bad guys because of her obsession with controlling the case, marginalizing every other agency’s efforts to assist, and maintaining her own high profile in the Bureau.
They’d been meeting for over thirty minutes and Emily was belaboring some obscure jurisdictional issue. In an effort to stay alert, Win took the opportunity to shift his focus and size up the HRT guy, Commander Phillips. Other than a couple of one-hour lectures at the Academy, he’d never even seen anyone from HRT. He was expecting some hulking super-soldier, but Phillips wasn’t a large man, maybe five eleven. He looked fit, but he wasn’t someone you’d pick out of a crowd as a warrior type. Phillips was showing no signs of stress during the meeting, but Win knew he couldn’t be happy with what he’d heard during the last half hour.