by Rhona Weaver
Win paused as he brought his hand to his chin. “But why string it out in front of us tonight?” His eyes shifted back to Trey. “And what if you had been asleep. Why string it out in front of me? What’s to be gained there? Looks to me as if they want to see if there’s anyone else who can be caught up in the trap with Luke. You’re definitely in their sights, and I may be too.”
“Why you?”
“You haven’t seen my file. Phillips and Smith have. I worked on a really messy political corruption case in North Carolina that fell apart because of pressure out of Washington. Some senior agents lost their jobs. Real good men. I got shipped out here and kept my job, but there are some in the Bureau, in high places, who’d like nothing more than to see me leave the FBI. I know too much. Phillips and Smith could score big points with some higher-ups by tripping me up on something out here. Some of the bad guys were in the Bureau in that deal.”
“It’s feeling to me like some of the bad guys are in the Bureau in this deal.”
“Lordy, I hope not, but I think we both have to assume HRT has our phones, vehicles, and houses bugged and the surveillance is on us as well as the bad guys. This is a high-level domestic terrorism case; they could get emergency authority to wiretap almost anyone under these conditions and it could be arranged through the Washington office. It’s possible no one here except my SAC and HRT would even know about it.” Win paused, then asked, “Anybody go in my house today?”
“Jimmy’s checking. . . . Not since seven o’clock tonight.”
Well, Win thought, might as well lay it out. “Do you know where Luke is?” There was silence. Win tensed when the ranger shifted in the darkness. Don’t lie to me. . . . Don’t lie . . . don’t do it.
Trey finally gave his answer. “Yes.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “After the sheriff’s deputies left this morning, Ellie took Luke to get his truck on the other side of the river, then she drove on to stay with my family in Bozeman. Luke needed to get clear of King’s men in Gardiner, so he switched vehicles with another friend of ours and came into Mammoth around mid-afternoon. He’s been at my house since then, as far as I know.” Those facts hung heavy in the cold air.
Before Win could absorb all that, Ranger Jimmy walked up and made his report. “Earlier shift said no one went in the house except for a plumber, who was doing some routine pressure tests on park housing, hmmm . . . kitchen and bathroom lines. They said the guy had all the correct IDs and papers. One of our guys went in with him and he was only in there for a few minutes. He left at 6:17 this evening.”
Win was really glad the rangers couldn’t see his face. Some of the hard questions were starting to get answered. A skilled communications tech could plant wireless bugs throughout a house within minutes, even with someone shadowing him. He’d had experience in that type of electronic bug placement on white-collar cases in Charlotte. Win was really beginning to feel Trey wasn’t the only one on HRT’s radar.
Jimmy walked back to his post, and the two men stood there in the cold darkness. The blackness of the night seemed to envelope them like a shroud.
“Well, hell,” Trey finally offered.
“No kidding! They probably would’ve hit your house about the same time. Likely decided to go that route after the interrogation of Wilson this afternoon. They may not think he was the only source of intel the bad guys had, or maybe they’re just casting a wide net. Could Luke have dodged them at your house?”
“Yup, there’s a hideout in the attic. He and I built it for the kids to play in, but the wives nixed that idea early on—you’d have to know it was there. He could’ve hidden if he spotted them ahead of time. I’d be shocked if Luke got caught flat-footed.”
Win was still stunned from Trey’s earlier answer as to Luke’s whereabouts, but he figured he needed to cover all the bases. “Anything on your phone today?”
“The call with Ellie, setting her up with Cindy. Ah, that was around noon. No problem there.” He paused for way too long, then, “Luke called me from a throwaway early afternoon when I was in your office. I was not on my phone. He’d put two burner phones in the pocket of the hunting clothes I changed into this morning at his house. There was a note in the code we used back when things weren’t good for him with the FBI last year. Said he’d try to get to my place. . . . Hey, I know this isn’t sounding too good.”
“You think?” Win was furious. He had to fight to control his anger when he spoke again. “Let’s stand in the shed for a minute.” Win really needed to see Trey’s eyes.
He pushed open the old wooden door and pulled the string cord on the single light bulb. The small shed smelled of oil paint, mildew, and dust. They stood on the dirty concrete floor in the circle of dim light, facing each other with their arms crossed. Trey’s gray eyes told Win nothing. He remembered Trey’s comments about being a good poker player. He asked himself if he was blind to Trey’s actions because he wanted so badly to have a partner, a teammate again. Have I been betrayed?
Win finally spoke. “Seriously? Are you telling me you took untraceable phones and a coded note, invited Luke to stay at your house, and didn’t bother to tell me!” It was no longer a question. “Are you working with him, Trey? If not, well, if this guy was a true friend of yours he wouldn’t have put you in this type of bind! And since I’m the one standing up for you with HRT, it’s put me under the same suspicion!”
Trey wasn’t backing down. “If you’ll recall, I tried twice to fill you in this afternoon, but things got a little busy. Remember that? We can’t undo what’s happened, but they’re wrong about Luke and you know it! You said it to Smith tonight—you said you felt it in your heart. I think Luke got himself in too deep with some folks he initially thought were just playing soldier, and he’s looking for an honorable way out. We need to give him that way out. Yeah, and he may have been a little caught up in the Prophet’s rhetoric for a while, but after Bronte attacked Ellie this morning, I think it shocked him back to reality. If they arrest him there will be no way he’ll cooperate, and someone could get hurt. We have to appeal to his better angels.”
“Well, we sure need to do something fast, ’cause if they have warrants and Luke is discovered at your place, or if they’re able to somehow trace that call he made to you, then either way, you’ve got major problems. A new warrant on Luke plus those federal charges he’s out on bail for, that would make it harboring a fugitive for you—real big problems!” Win let that sink in for a few moments before he continued. “Can you text him in your code and see if he’s there? No way to call. If the house is bugged, it will pick up the sound.”
Trey quickly texted a message on the small throwaway phone and a response came in seconds. “Yup, he’s there. House was bugged at 6:45 and it’s being watched. One, maybe two guys outside.”
Win stood there and stared at the light playing on the dirty floor, dust flecks drifting up through the yellow hue. The simplest and least risky course for him was to give up Trey and Luke to HRT and hope to come out of it unscathed. But nothing about that option felt right.
It was like Trey was reading his mind. The ranger let out a deep breath that rose in the cold air. He spoke quietly. “You’re holdin’ all the cards here, Win. I can see that. I went with my heart instead of thinking it through. I think Luke’s finished with the Prophet’s people, but I didn’t expect HRT to come after him like this . . . to come after us like this. I won’t blame you if you call them now. I’ll go back over there with you and turn myself in, if that’s what you want.”
“After you text Luke to clear out?” Win actually felt himself smiling.
“Yup, you know it.” If Trey was sweating this, his calm voice didn’t give him away.
Win pushed the felt hat back on his head and stared into Trey’s eyes. There wasn’t time to do a lot of analysis here; he had to go with his instincts. He thought back to the Brunson case. He’d risked his career and nearly los
t it. He’d refused to turn on his friends then—he knew what that felt like. It was time to fish or cut bait with Trey.
Win looked down and ran his hand along his chin. “I’d probably do the same thing if he was my friend. I’d like to think I would. . . . Maybe there’s another way out of this.” He studied the concrete floor for a minute longer. “I say we try to get Luke to meet with Phillips and Smith tonight. Set it up as our last effort as partners to move Luke toward a working relationship with the good guys. He probably has a healthy respect for HRT or any special ops group—that’s what he’s used to. He has no great respect for the FBI as a whole. I can’t see him talking to Emily or Wes.”
Trey nodded his agreement as Win finished his thoughts. “HRT could have warrants in hand for arrests if our legal folks in D.C. started working on them late this afternoon. More’n likely they’re looking at tomorrow morning, but you’ve seen those operators work. I don’t want to chance waiting. If we miscalculate and they move on Luke at your house tonight . . . all bets are off.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As plans go, it wasn’t much. Trey pulled his tactical duffel bag, which included his night-vision equipment, out of his Tahoe and they quickly walked through the house, turning on both TVs and trying to make chitchat that would convince any listeners they were settling in for the night. A few minutes later, Trey appeared in his dark-green SWAT overalls and body armor just as Win emerged from his bedroom in his darkest version of hunting clothes and boots. His body armor was in his Bureau vehicle back at the office; he’d have to do without. They checked their handguns, pulled on heavy parkas, gloves, and ball caps, and nodded silently to each other. Both men held up their various cell phones to confirm they were powered down. Trey made an offhand comment to the walls that he needed to check outside with Jimmy one last time before they turned in. Win cracked the blinds and watched Trey call out to the rear guard and then walk quickly across the small yard to Ranger Jimmy.
Win glanced at his watch and hit the timer: Exactly one minute till all hell breaks loose. There were all sorts of ways this could go sideways—the Bureau’s tendency to plan things to death was beginning to look more and more reasonable. He wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead with a gloved hand. As Trey came back across the yard toward the back steps, Win crouched in the mudroom beside the rear door. The back of the house was very dark. The front area wasn’t much brighter; the ornamental light pole out near the front parking lot had long since been disconnected so the security detail could better utilize their night-vision equipment during their evening house patrols. But anyone turning from the highway into the parking lot would illuminate the front of the house; they couldn’t take the chance on being seen. They’d go out the back way, away from HRT’s surveillance team.
Win and Trey would use Win’s personal vehicle for their getaway. It had been parked in the visitor’s lot near the Lower Terrace boardwalk since security had been tightened around his house. Win couldn’t imagine HRT going to the trouble of bugging that truck. He hardly ever drove it. HRT might not even know about the Explorer. It still had its North Carolina plates.
He glanced down at his stopwatch and swallowed hard. They’d make a break for it right . . . now! He leaped out the back door as the beeper on his watch sounded and he heard the shout from Ranger Jimmy in the backyard: “Police! Show yourself! Police! Hands up now!” The guard in the front was also raising the loud warning that two intruders had been spotted northeast of the house. Win felt more than saw Trey jogging along beside him in the darkness as they ran in the opposite direction from the rapidly developing confrontation. They jumped the little stream and raced down the well-worn trail toward the boardwalk and away from the shouting rangers. There was more yelling now from the east side of the house. He couldn’t make out the words, but the anger and intensity in the voices was unmistakable. Please don’t start shooting!
He hadn’t been in the old Explorer in days. He prayed that it would start in the high-country air. The engine came to life without a hitch. He eased the truck out of the parking spot without headlights and made a quick turn off the highway onto a restricted side road that looped back toward Officer’s Row and the chapel. They hadn’t driven two hundred yards before they heard sirens blaring. Commit to the action! Those were Luke Bordeaux’s words. Win drew in a deep breath. Well, we’re damn well committed—God help us!
Trey’s calm voice eased his fears just a bit. “Saw them with my night-vision optics. It was two of them, just like you thought. Told Jimmy to radio Brent in front and call in the troops—told him it might be HRT out training, not to get trigger-happy. . . .” He let his voice trail off.
Win turned on the headlights. It took them less than a minute to swing past the Yellowstone Chapel and enter the modern employee-housing development called Lower Mammoth. Two carloads of tourists and a large RV passed by on the main highway from Roosevelt. Win was hoping the late-night traffic would help them move away from his house unnoticed.
“You get ahold of Luke?”
“Yup, he knows we’re comin’. How long before HRT traces the texts?”
“Not sure. Infrastructure is terrible out here, but they can do it. If nothing else they can get a location on Luke—probably based on the call he made to you this afternoon. Your texts tonight will just confirm that location. Let’s hope we get there before they get into position to make a raid on your house.”
Win pulled to the side of a dark, empty street and Trey gave him a quick rundown of the subdivision’s layout. They were two streets over from Trey’s house.
Win couldn’t make out any of Trey’s facial features in the dark vehicle, but he felt as if he needed to say something, some word of encouragement to show a little leadership.
“Uh, you okay?” It was a weak attempt.
“What could go wrong?” the ranger deadpanned. Win could see his white teeth flash a quick smile. Hell of a lot!
“Well then . . . let’s do it.” He leaned over the steering wheel and manually disconnected the SUV’s interior lights. He heard the passenger door open, and Trey was gone into the night.
Win slumped lower into his seat and tried to melt into the darkness. His heart was pounding and he felt sweaty, even in the cold. Hugging himself with his arms generated very little warmth. He jumped when two elk calmly walked across the street to graze on somebody’s lawn. Blue and red police lights were reflecting off low clouds in the vicinity of his house, less than a mile away. The rangers were all over the HRT guys, or vice versa. The confrontation should at least stall any planned assault on Trey’s house.
While Trey scouted out the situation in the neighborhood, Win killed time by trying to rationalize his actions. Luke was Win’s confidential source; Win was charged with protecting him. They needed a diversion to get Luke out of Trey’s house. He reasoned that he had no actual knowledge of a legal warrant for Luke’s arrest. So as far as he knew, HRT had no right to come after Luke, and no authorization to stake out Win’s house. HRT knew the rangers were charged with guarding it—the rangers had to assume the intruders were affiliated with the bad guys. His mental outline of excuses felt way too much like those times in high school when his stern father had questioned him over some infraction he’d later concede just seemed like a good idea at the time. He sighed and glanced at his watch again. All rationalization aside, someone was gonna catch hell over this deal and he hoped it wouldn’t be him.
He could see the occasional car headlights on the main highway leading into Mammoth, but the neighborhood was quiet and most of the houses were dark. The subdivision of sixty-two modest rental homes for park employees had no streetlights, in keeping with the wilderness feel of Yellowstone. He flinched as two more sirens wailed from the direction of his house, setting him further on edge. He jumped again when Trey softly knocked on the passenger-side window, slid the door open, and flipped up his night-vision goggles.
The ranger was breathing
heavily, but his whispered voice was steady. “We’ve got one guy in the empty lot north of the house. He’s kinda up on the hill. Normally there’d be another one in the rear, but either I can’t find him or they’re just covering the front of the house. The truck Luke came in is in our driveway. If you can create enough of a diversion in the front—any light will make his night vision worthless—I can get Luke out the back door. We’ll meet you here. That’s assuming there isn’t anyone on surveillance in the rear.”
“HRT uses their snipers for protracted ground surveillance,” Win offered.
“Well, that’s a comforting thought—just gotta hope there isn’t someone back there. We’ll need about ten minutes. Give me five to the house, then five in and back.” He glanced down at his watch. “Set . . . go!” He was gone.
Win’s stopwatch hit five minutes after what seemed an eternity. He turned on his lights and drove slowly up Trey’s street, calling out his open window, “Here, Shep! Here, Shep! Here, boy!” He used his high-beam flashlight to scan all of the surrounding brush and the neighboring yards. Trey had said the HRT guy was across the street from his house, so that’s where Win’s “dog hunting” got most intense; he circled the area three times, shining the flashlight into every bush. When his stopwatch hit five minutes for the second time, he turned the old SUV down the street and continued his dog hunt in a somewhat lower voice. No reason to wake up the whole neighborhood.