As the Crow Dies

by Kenneth Butcher

  CHAPTER 36

  Chicken Little

  “There’s no use beating ourselves up about this one,” Segal said. He and Dinah were winding down the hallways and stairways of the Wedge, heading for the parking lot.

  “I know that,” she said. “Everybody knows that. You can’t take chances with this kind of thing.” But the tone of her voice said otherwise. It conveyed the disappointment of someone who had gone from being a hero to being Chicken Little after the sky declined to fall. In other words, she was beating herself up about it, just as Segal was, in spite of what he said.

  He said nothing else until they emerged onto the loading dock. Segal was turning over and over in his mind how else they could have arranged the known facts into some other picture. The conclusion seemed inescapable—the evidence of the sniper, the president’s visit, right down to the change in date. Especially the change in date. And when they laid out the evidence, the Secret Service had been convinced, too. Segal was experiencing an intense sense of foreboding, a sense that they were not out of the woods yet, and neither was the president. Nothing felt resolved.

  At Creatures 2.0, they found Lewis Abraham in the main lab, the one with the windows facing the back. When they asked what was going on, Lewis pointed out the window. Richard hopped down from the branch of an oak tree and strutted to the window, bobbing his head.

  “Is that a sign for something in particular?” Dinah asked Lewis.

  “I would say it roughly translates into, ‘Look at me, I am Mr. Big-ass Bird, too good to turn over the goods to a lowlife like Lewis.”

  “Really, you got all that from a couple of head bobs?” Dinah scratched her forehead.

  “I got that from the fact that he’s been showing up for the last hour. You see he’s wearing his camera, but every time I get near him to try to take it off, he flies away. Then, a few minutes later, he’s back again. It’s like he wants something and doesn’t want me in on it.”

  Segal followed the bird, and he did that head-bobbing thing again.

  Dinah walked slowly toward the window, and to their surprise, the crow made no attempt to move away. She released the lock and pushed open the sash, and the crow took a hop toward her. Dinah stepped back, and the crow came into the room and flapped up onto the nearest workbench. He allowed Dinah to reach forward, stroke him, and remove the camera from his head.

  Dinah handed the device to Lewis. “That’s weird. It’s like he didn’t want to give it to you. Maybe he had instructions to deliver it to me. Is that possible?”

  “Oh, it’s possible, all right. That or, like I told you, he likes to impress the ladies. Better give him one of his favorite treats for good behavior. He’ll be expecting it.” Lewis took a small can from a desk drawer and handed it to Dinah.

  “Vienna sausages?”

  “Oh, hell yes,” Lewis said. “He loves those things. Don’t give him more than one, though.”

  While Dinah fed one of the little wieners to the bird, Lewis removed the tiny memory card from the crow cam and downloaded the images to his computer. After a couple of minutes, he indicated he was ready to run through the video the bird had captured.

  “This is beautiful,” Dinah said with an involuntary breath.

  Indeed, it was. Richard had apparently been soaring above a ridgeline in the mountains and then out over a valley. It was one of those days of mesmerizing beauty in the southern Appalachians—blue sky with only a few white, fleecy clouds to add dimension, the mountainsides and ridgelines covered with their variety of green trees and showing the occasional outcropping of granite, sometimes gray, sometimes covered with lichen, the shadows of those clouds drifting over them.

  “It is beautiful. Where exactly was it?” Segal asked.

  “I don’t know where it was, but I can tell you when it was,” Lewis said. “See the time stamp?”

  The stamp showed the clip had been taken a little over an hour ago.

  They watched a few seconds more in silence, then Dinah said, “Look, there’s a road coming into view.”

  They saw a two-lane road winding along the mountain a hundred feet or so below the ridgeline. Presently, the bird seemed to fly just above the road.

  “Is that the Blue Ridge Parkway?” Segal asked.

  “Could be,” Dinah said. The road disappeared into a tunnel. “Yeah, I think it is. I’m thinking of the parkway south of town, before it goes by Mount Pisgah.”

  “I see what you mean,” Segal said. “You’ve been up there more recently than me, though.” He was going over the terrain in his mind, and the farther the image followed the road, the more convinced he became.

  Then the road dropped away as the crow climbed quickly. “Wonder if he caught an updraft,” Dinah said.

  It made Segal think of watching a hawk soar in the air currents above the parkway. Judging from the video, the bird had continued to climb until he was over the ridgeline itself. Then, all at once, a distinct mountaintop came into view, complete with an elevated platform and a large radio mast.

  “There we are,” Dinah said. “Mount Pisgah.”

  Segal had no doubt. He knew exactly where they were, or rather where the crow had been. He spotted the trail leading like a winding stairway up the steep slope to the observation tower, appearing and disappearing in and out of the laurel and rhododendron bushes and the twisted branches of oak trees tortured by the winds and ice of the high exposure. Then, judging from the video, the bird had made a wide, banking 360-degree turn around the peak.

  “I told you he was a show-off,” Lewis said.

  The scolding note is gone. Segal thought he even heard pride there.

  The next sequence showed the crow descending and finding the road again. As Segal expected, the Pisgah Inn soon came into view. The video swooped down above the treetops around the parking lot. And then the movement stopped with a jerk.

  “That’s Richard landing on a tree branch,” Lewis explained.

  A moment later, Dinah gave a quick inhale and put her hand on Segal’s arm. He watched as a white utility van pulled up in the far corner of the parking lot. Four men got out and went to the back, where they unloaded a large satchel and two backpacks, conferred with each other, and disappeared into the trees, one down a trailhead and the other three toward the inn.

  “They’re after Emily,” Dinah said.

  “That might not be all they’re after,” Segal said. He took out his cell phone. Two rings and Jerome Guilford answered. “Where’s the motorcade?” Segal asked.

  “You know we can’t talk about that on an open line,” Jerome said.

  “Give me an indication somehow.”

  “Let’s just say certain people may or may not be going for seconds on the banana pudding.”

  “Where are they scheduled to go next?” Segal asked.

  “I definitely can’t say that on an open line.”

  “Don’t let them leave until I get there,” Segal said, his voice too raw for comfort. He remembered from the briefing that the presidential entourage was supposed to head out hiking, “supposed” being the operative word. Plans changed.

  After a pause, Jerome said softly, “I don’t think anyone is in a mood to take warnings right now from the local police. We’ve done two raids for you so far. Got nothing.”

  Segal hung up and looked at Dinah. “We’ve got to get over there right away.”

  Dinah took a step and stopped. “Wait. You go to the motorcade. Lewis can take me to my car. I’ll head up to the parkway. Run interference. We can meet up there.” She looked at Lewis, and he nodded.

  Segal hesitated only a second and said, “Hurry.”

  “You hurry,” she said. She held his eye for a moment before she moved out.

  He knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, “Be careful.” He wanted to say it to her too. Long ago they’d agreed never to tell each other to be careful.

  CHAPTER 37

  Ascent of Mount Pisgah

  “Looks like it could be a plumber’s
van,” Jerome Guilford said. He was staring at the picture on Segal’s phone of the white van in the parking lot of the Pisgah Inn. Segal had rushed across town, and they were now in the parking lot of 12 Bones in the River Arts District.

  “It also looks like the van we saw at the house on French Broad Avenue,” Segal said.

  “You mean the one you and Dinah say you saw. There was no van by the time we got there.”

  Segal exhaled loudly. Jerome knew perfectly well that if he and Dinah said there was a white van, there was a white van. “And you think it’s a coincidence that they parked next to the trail the president and first lady are going to hike?”

  Segal glared at Guilford’s shocked face. His words had stopped the man from the Office of Naval Intelligence.

  “Good point,” Guilford conceded. He looked at the top Secret Service man. Segal could read his mind. Guilford dreaded bringing this up after the failed raid at the Wedge.

  “What if I told you there’s a good chance, you’ll find Francis Elah up there, too,” Segal said.

  By this time, Segal realized that a considerable crowd had gathered around 12 Bones, partly for the barbecue and partly because news of the distinguished visitors had circulated, the way such news did. The numbers were a little short of a full-on flash mob. It appeared to him as if the president and first lady were shaking hands on their way to the black SUVs of the motorcade. No doubt, the organizers of this outing sensed pressure and were eager to move them out.

  Jerome Guilford had his head down. After a moment, he said, “Give me the phone.”

  Segal slapped the phone into his open palm, and Jerome walked over to Agent Straus. The Secret Service and ONI men conferred as the president and first lady got into one of the SUVs. Segal did not hear the conversation. He could read the body language when the decision was made. Guilford returned.

  “Okay,” he said. “They had the Fine Arts League studio here in the River Arts District as a possible stop. Time permitting. They will go there before the hike, which will give us an hour or so to sort this out.”

  Segal turned and took a step toward his Volvo.

  “Hold up,” Guilford said. “Let’s take something a little more muscular.” He nodded toward a large SUV parked half in and half out of the road.

  Segal sighed and followed him, climbing with difficulty into the passenger seat. He scanned the interior of the huge machine as he buckled in. “Hope this thing isn’t top-heavy, considering where we’re going,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Jerome asked.

  “You’ll see soon enough,” Segal said, as he directed Jerome across the river and out of the valley and south of town.

  At Creatures 2.0, Dinah waited on Lewis as he brought up a video. Lewis transferred the video to a memory stick and gave it to Dinah. She started toward the door, turned back and faced Richard the crow. “We should take him.”

  Lewis stopped. “Take Richard? What for?”

  “Where we’re going, we might need an eye in the sky. You told me before you could pick up the feed in real-time, right?”

  Lewis nodded.

  “Well, let’s put the camera back on Richard and take him along. He could help us find these guys on the mountain.”

  Lewis rubbed his chin. “Only one problem. I can put the camera on him. I’ve done that plenty of times. I can give you the receiver. It just hooks up to an iPad. But I don’t know how to tell Richard what to do. I don’t know the commands.”

  “Who does?” Dinah asked.

  “Francis, of course,” Lewis said, stating the obvious. “Francis and that woman out at the Biltmore House who was helping him. What was her name? Lucile.”

  “Lucile Devroe.” Dinah took out her cell phone. She knew Segal would not be pleased about involving Lucile. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, Lucile was already involved whether they liked it or not.

  Lucile picked up.

  Dinah talked quickly. “Lucile, I need your help. We need your help, Segal and me. Do you know how to give commands to Richard to get him to do what we want him to do?”

  Silence. Then Lucile cleared her throat. “Yes, I helped Francis work with Richard. I can do the basics.”

  “Where can I pick you up?”

  Silence.

  Dinah read the pause. “Never mind. I know where to pick you up. I’ll be there in five.”

  She walked over to Lewis and stood behind him. He already had the camera on the bird and was attaching a cable between a small black box and an iPad. He brought up a special application on the screen, and the next thing Dinah knew she was seeing a picture of Lewis on the screen. “Good,” he said.

  The bird nodded. Lewis nodded.

  “Let’s bounce,” she said.

  If Richard had any crow-hesitation about riding in a car, Dinah could not see it. He rode out of the building on Dinah’s arm and hopped right into the backseat when she opened the door. Dinah thought she shouldn’t be surprised at this by now. She was growing a bit fond of the bird.

  Lewis drove her to her car, which was parked near the police station downtown. She bent down to the driver’s open window and thanked him after transferring bird and equipment to her car. “You going to be around the lab the rest of the day?” she asked.

  “I guess so,” he said. “There aren’t many of us left.”

  “Hang in there, Lewis,” Dinah said. “If things go well today, maybe we can get your boss back.” And she was off.

  When she pulled up outside Segal’s apartment, she saw no sign of Lucile Devroe. She was about to get out of the car when she caught movement on the second-floor walkway. Lucile emerged from the shadows and descended the stairway, putting Dinah in mind of a scene from an old Hollywood film. Lucile gave Dinah a quick, tight smile of greeting. Her stronger reaction came when she opened the car door and saw Richard sitting in the shotgun seat. Her eyes and her mouth opened wide. “Richard, is that really you?” she asked.

  The bird opened his beak and bounced his head up and down.

  Dinah got going. She called Segal. He gave her a timeline. Even with the detour and delay, they were on the parkway well ahead of her partner and Guilford.

  A battered, valiant Honda Civic approached the Pisgah Inn. Mattie was at the wheel. Francis Elah was beside her. He’d wanted to make the trip alone, tried to convince her it was dangerous. She would have none of it, and he was in no position to insist. Besides, having her there might be incredibly important. If he could get to his family before anyone else did, maybe Mattie could get them out of there while he stayed behind and dealt with whatever forces of darkness were coming his way.

  She pulled into the parking lot.

  “Slow down,” he said, spotting the white van. He was thinking of the Cormorant guys, but as their car crept by, he saw no sign of life around it.

  Mattie parked.

  Francis got out and surveyed the sky, daring to hope for any sign of Richard, not knowing if the bird had already done his job and delivered the evidence to Dinah, just as Francis had instructed. He’d come to rely on the crow, his beloved companion.

  He was on alert as they eased up the steps and passed through the entryway that would take them through to the other side of the inn. On that side, an elevated walkway ran the length of the structure, providing access to the rooms as well as a perfect place to take in the magnificent view over Pisgah National Forest and points east. In the vastness of the sky, Francis saw a pair of hawks rising on thermals.

  Francis heard a sound to their left. As they turned, a door opened and Suzie wheeled out onto the walkway. She did not see them at first, as her gaze was straight ahead, riveted onto the valley before her. Francis and Mattie took quick steps toward her. Hearing them, she turned and shook her head slowly, as if to say, No. They stopped, confused by the gesture and by the sorrowful shadow that darkened her face. Then a man Francis knew all too well stepped out of the room with an Uzi submachine gun slung from a strap over his shoulder.

  “
Hello, Francis,” the colonel said.

  Francis saw those cold Aryan blue eyes and short light hair and thought what a fine SS officer he would have made for Hitler.

  Hearing footsteps behind them, Francis turned to see another man carrying an Uzi.

  On the shoulder of a mountain overlooking the Pisgah Inn, the Cormorant sniper was finally doing something that made him feel comfortable, something that was dead in the center of his training, his experience, and his skill set. He was setting up a sniper’s nest in the low bushes and the scrub pines overlooking a stretch of parkway that approached a tunnel. Specifically, he was digging in, sighting down the northeast slope of Mount Pisgah, where he had a beautiful, long view of the parkway as it led from Asheville up toward the inn. It felt so good it almost made up for his aching ribs.

  CHAPTER 38

  A World of Trouble Now

  “This just gets better and better,” the colonel said, “you both coming up here.” Sweat was beginning to stain his thin khaki shirt, especially where the strap of the Uzi crossed his shoulder.

  He marched Francis and Mattie across the parking lot. He held the gun on them, but his real leverage lay in the fact that one of his men was back at the room with Emily and Suzie.

  “How come you still get to be called ‘colonel’ when you’re in a private company now?” Mattie asked. “Is it like Colonel Sanders with the fried chicken?”

  The colonel’s smile widened as he marched them forward, her jibe enhancing his good mood.

  “Colonel, I don’t know how you think you’ll get away with this. You know ONI is involved now. You know Secret Service is here, to say nothing of the local police,” Francis said.

  “Don’t forget the street singers. We’ve got them on our case, too,” the colonel said, letting them know he knew about Mattie, letting them know how on top of the situation he was. Mattie glanced over her shoulder with a dirty look. The colonel laughed. “Yes, Francis, your friend here has been very helpful to us. Once we started following her, she led us right to your family.”