Caravan of Thieves

by David Rich

  “I didn’t think you’d last.”

  “Me neither. The orders are tough, the rules, but it satisfies something.” Loretta’s eyes widened as if she were going to scold me. “Not the killing and not the being shot at,” I said, and she sat back. “It’s the feeling of exploring. Always something new, even if the newness is only new danger. Even the boredom feels like it’s on the way to somewhere.”

  She did not answer for a while; then she said, “I’m sorry to hear it.” The anti-Dan.

  She sat next to me on the couch and I put my arm around her and she rested her head on my shoulder. I let her sleep like that a while, then carried her to her cabin. She woke up but I shushed her.

  In the morning, I rented a storage locker in Big Bear in the same place Loretta kept one, paying for one year in advance. I hauled the money in there and unzipped the bag. For about two minutes, I stared at it all just to see if I would be moved by it. Maybe if I had more time to give the exercise, it might have had an effect. I removed about a million dollars and put half in each of two backpacks. Loretta was in the bakery, waiting, in case any more kids got off the bus. I ordered coffee and a cranberry muffin for me and a scone for her. Her hand shook and I thought she was going to spill the coffee. She caught me looking and spilled some on purpose and laughed without smiling.

  “I might call for this key. It’s best if you can leave it somewhere where I don’t have to get it directly from you. If I’m not back in two months, consider it yours.”

  “It’s a refuge, you know. You can stay since no one knows you’re here.” That was as close as I ever heard her come to asking for anything. She didn’t touch the locker key.

  “They’d find me eventually.”

  “Then even the boredom will feel like it’s on the way to somewhere.” She held her bird eyes on mine when she said it. At first I took it as a taunt, but it dawned on me that she was thinking of herself. Loneliness had festered. Maybe my visit made it worse. Loretta had set up a world in which everyone she cared for and who cared for her left her. Complete freedom. She still did not touch the key. “It will be behind the counter here. What name should I put on the envelope?”

  “None. Just describe me.”

  I drove back to the refuge and put one of the backpacks in Loretta’s closet.

  28.

  Any idea how to get them to believe I’ll give them the money? Ideas that don’t involve them torturing me for the information?”

  “Make demands.”

  “Negotiate.”

  “They’ll think you believe them. They’re vain. They’ll think you believe they intend to keep their end of the deal.”

  The bartender came over and I ordered a beer. I’d been having this conversation with Dan over and over during the ride down to the outskirts of Phoenix. Dan kept telling me I was the one who had the money.

  “You’re the one who has the money.”

  “They could say no and just torture me.”

  “They might. It’s a risk. They might use a little torture just to make sure you’re sincere. But, it’s a risk for them, too. You might die, like I did.”

  “They can promise anything.”

  “So can you. And you have the money.”

  “They’re going to kill me as soon as they have the money.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I like to spread the money around. Offer some to everyone. They’ll all agree and all plan to screw you. Did you bring any of that along with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Seed the mine.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Try to make sure you know what you want out of it, and you’ll get it.”

  “Like you? Why didn’t you spend the money?”

  He didn’t answer. I asked a different question.

  “Why didn’t they spend the money?”

  “They’re going to tell you that as soon as they think you’re giving it to them.”

  “Because they’ll think I’m dead.”

  “Like me.”

  First I called Shaw. “I think I found the money,” I said.

  “Where are you?”

  “Fine, thanks. How are you?”

  He waited before replying, then said, “I’ll say it again: Where are you? That’s first.”

  “I’ll be near Tucson. Be ready. If you can have help there, that would be good. I’m going to be there with McColl.”

  “Tell me where you are, Rollie. We have to talk this over. I can be in Tucson in ninety minutes.”

  “Just trust me. Please.”

  “Because you’ve been such a trustworthy guy so far. My jaw still aches. You called me for a reason.”

  “I wanted to check in with you so you’d know that I’m okay and I’m on the trail. If you’re near Tucson when I need you, that would be really…”

  “Helpful.”

  I hung up. I called Gladden next. “Reporting in, sir.”

  The conversation was pretty much the same as the one with Shaw except that I could hear Gladden choking on his bile, and see the veins straining against the skin and the eyes bulging. And Gladden bothered to make threats and remembered to call Dan a scumbag.

  “How much reward money am I gonna get?”

  He screamed, “You’re still a Marine, mister.”

  “Just checking, sir.” I hung up. I spent the rest of the day making preparations.

  29.

  The good thing about flying in to Blythe must be that you can fly right out. I stood on the dirt between the runway and the access road at the Blythe Airport, watching the air shimmering off the concrete and the dirt and the main building and the four small planes baking near the sheds. I thought about what it would be like growing up here and how strange it might look the first time I went to a place where the air wasn’t shimmering. The mountains were miles off to the north. It was a great spot for an airport, wide open and flat, but it seemed like a waste of good desert.

  I could see the helicopter long before I heard it. It circled twice. Blondie sat with his legs dangling over the side and a sniper rifle cradled in his lap. Toothless hopped out past him and frisked me, then escorted me inside and we took off.

  Blondie smiled at me. “Welcome aboard, pal.”

  The pilot turned to me. “Buckle up,” he said. He took off his shades and smiled, too. It was one of the shooters who chased me at Camp Pendleton, the short one. I buckled in and when Blondie saw that had been done, he lifted the butt of the rifle and slammed it down on the back of my head.

  I woke up on a twin bed in a small bedroom. It was dark. Curtains were drawn across the single window on my left and a fan was blowing across my face. I reached out to turn it off and knocked it over.

  “He’s up,” someone said.

  “He’s up” echoed down a hallway. The door opened and a light came on, making me wince. Blondie appeared with Toothless. “How’s that head, pal?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” And he slapped me hard across the side of my head. My brain rattled and the pain dug in where it was safe and could stay awhile. “Get up. We’ll show you around.”

  They led me down a hallway lined with framed photos of horses, some being ridden by McColl and some by a woman, but I could not stop to get a good look. We entered a large living room organized around a stone fireplace. Everything was ranch style: leather couches and chairs. One sofa was cowhide, splotched white and brown so it looked like a great place to sit if you were planning on spilling coffee, or cream. There was an elk head mounted on the wall, and a bear’s head. As we headed for the front door, it opened. McColl stood there basking in the outside spotlight. Blondie and Toothless moved me back so McColl could enter.

  “Welcome, Rollie. Hungry?”

  The dining room was more of the same: rough-hewn wood and leather, a table that looked like it weighed a thousand pounds. Sitting there, eating a steak, was a woman with short blond hair and huge breasts and a blouse at least one size too small pulling tight against them. She barel
y looked up when we came in. “Oh, I was so hungry and I didn’t know when you guys planned to start, so I just went ahead.” She said it like she had to but didn’t mean it. She wasn’t sorry.

  “Rollie, this is Jessica.” He was proud, I could hear it, and he wanted me to be impressed.

  “Jessica.”

  She nodded to me and took a bite of her steak. McColl sat at the head of the table, so I sat across from Jessica. McColl started right in about the ranch and how much they loved it there: the wind, the sand, the stars. Luckily, that took only a couple of minutes. Unluckily, he then got to the horses. Jessica chimed in about this horse and that horse, and how the rescued wild one was healthier than the expensive auction-bought one, and this one only ate crunchy peanut butter, and that one was so gentle. There are golf bores, ski bores, even gambling bores. Marion the Bitch once detained me for half an hour about how she won two hundred dollars at the poker machine in just ten minutes. Pet bores top the list for me. I wondered how McColl would feel about himself if he substituted cats for horses in that conversation.

  Steaks were served by a white-haired older man in a cowboy shirt and jeans. He removed Jessica’s plate and brought her coffee a moment later. Something happened between McColl and Jessica, some signal. As soon as she sipped her coffee, McColl got down to business.

  “Why did you change your mind now, Rollie? Why did you decide to join us?”

  “I haven’t.” I let that sit for a moment and watched what went on between them. Jessica was not surprised. McColl did not like it that she was letting him know it. I went on. “First I would need to know what I was joining. And I’m still a Marine. I’d have to deal with that. And then there’s the Treasury agent.”

  Jessica said, “Is that all?”

  “A percentage of the money. A finder’s fee.”

  “How much?” A hard edge took over McColl’s voice. He thought this was going to be easy. He must have said as much.

  “How much were you paying Shannon?”

  “Shannon was to be paid ten thousand dollars if she got you to lead us to the money,” McColl said.

  “And I suppose you didn’t have to pay Blondie any extra to kill her. He’d pay you for the chance. Quite a savings. I’ll need five percent, plus Shannon’s take.”

  McColl squinted at me, then slowly widened his eyes, an expression he had practiced. His hands rested on either side of his plate. Maybe he wanted to kill me right there. Or have me killed. I didn’t think he was the man for the job.

  Jessica said, “I was under the impression you wanted to join us, Rollie. Is that incorrect?”

  “As I said, I don’t know what I’d be joining.”

  “You put us in a difficult position. We can hardly be expected to tell you everything about what we represent if you make no clear offer in return.”

  “Put you in a difficult position? That’s a good one. I get thrown into this situation I know nothing about. You kill my father, sew a transmitter in my back, follow me around the southwest while I’m trying to find the money for you, ask me to join up, and then won’t tell me what it is I’d be joining. I’ll leave right now and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. You can’t torture me because you can’t risk killing me. And I couldn’t describe the place to you anyway. I’ll have to take you there—when the time comes. If it comes. I told you what I need and none of it is unreasonable. Now if you want to negotiate the amounts or discuss how to take care of my issues, I’m listening. If not, give me one of those jeeps you can trace. I’ll take it now and lose it later, just like last time.”

  I returned my attention to the steak so they could send their messages to each other via nods and winks. And, suddenly, I was hungry.

  Jessica spoke: “Maybe the general…” I looked up in time to see McColl give her an odd look that made her change course. “Treasury Agent Shaw and Colonel Gladden and the MPs have traveled to Tucson. We wonder what the reason is for that. Would you know?”

  “I told them to.”

  “I’m having a hard time trusting you, Rollie.” McColl thought he found the crux of the matter. I was relieved that the meal and the presence of his wife had not sped up his mind.

  “If you have trust issues, work them out elsewhere. I keep telling you the truth, which is more than I can say for you.”

  McColl was flummoxed. He knew how to give orders and how to get rid of people who didn’t follow them without question. Everything else was beyond him. Jessica stepped in. “The money isn’t ours to give. But because of the trouble you’ve experienced, a small payment could be made. Say fifty thousand dollars. That’s part yours and part Shannon’s. I think when we’ve shown you what you have the opportunity to be part of, you’ll think less about money. As for dealing with Colonel Gladden and the MPs, I think the role envisioned for you involves staying in the Marines until the end of your current enlistment. Gladden might not believe your story entirely, but he has superior officers whom he must obey. And he will. They are with us. You might have to spend a little time in the brig, but no formal charges will be filed and you’ll be released. We’re sure of that. As for the Treasury, I wish you hadn’t told the agent that you found the money. You’ll just have to convince him you were wrong. The Marines will want you back and that will end your involvement as far as the Treasury is concerned.”

  I know McColl couldn’t have worked all that out, so Jessica was the brains. It all fit nicely: easy promises for a dead man. I told her I wanted a hundred thousand dollars, and we settled on seventy-five thousand. Jessica did the agreeing and made it look as if she were asking for McColl’s approval. When we finished that part, she reminded him it was time to give me the grand tour of the place and to explain the mission.

  Blondie and Toothless leaned back against the corral when we came out of the house: rustlers in fatigues. They tensed up and scrutinized us, wondering if they could kill me now or if they would have to wait. Their disappointment only brought a shrug. They’d still be hungry tomorrow. I looked back and saw Jessica framed in the doorway.

  McColl showed me the new stable and introduced me to the three horses they currently owned. “Shame we won’t have time. Blue here is a great ride.” Beyond the stable was a warehouse with a satellite dish on the roof. On the way there he started his story. “Some forward-looking officers in the Army, Marines, and Air Force got together during the early days of Operation Iraqi Freedom. It was clear that politics would trump good sense. It was clear that our country would gain very little from this massive effort. The Iraqis had problems we could not solve and the cost of trying was going to be prohibitive. Also, it was extremely doubtful that they would ever be reliable allies for us. We could never depend on their oil. And we would never be repaid for liberating them from the tyrant. We saw that it would take years for the worst of the fighting to end. The political bickering would continue far into the future. But eventually, the U.S. would draw down the combat troops, leaving only a support force. At that point, Iraq would be up for grabs. We don’t want to let it fall to our enemies, or another tyrant.”

  “You’re planning on taking over Iraq?”

  He hit some numbers on a keypad and the door clicked open. I followed him inside. At this point I was expecting tanks and Stinger missiles, but the big main section was almost vacant: two forklifts, four stacks of pallets about eight feet high, and three jeeps. A small living room section was set up against a wall about midway across the space with two couches and a large TV and a refrigerator.

  “Iraq is a made-up country. Made up after World War One. We don’t see any need to continue that construct. It would take another dictator, a brutal dictator, to keep it going. Iraq is a ninety-year blip on history’s radar, a failed experiment. One area in particular is eager to separate from the rest of the country: the northern provinces where the people are Kurdish. They were brutalized into submission under Saddam and have little loyalty to the larger entity. And they have the oil fields to be self-supporting. They can pump two hun
dred fifty thousand barrels a day easily and we think there’s plenty more. We believe that with a little help, this area can achieve independence and become a useful ally to the United States.” His stride lengthened and his chest puffed out as he talked about it. He needed this moment. Probably the long wait was getting to him. Killing Dan and chasing me made him itch for more action. He wanted his role acknowledged.

  The far end of the warehouse was closed off. McColl tapped in some more numbers and we entered a large room with five computer screens on desks set around the perimeter. A huge map of Iraq hung across the back wall with an outline of the targeted provinces: Dahuk, Ninawa, Arbil, Kirkuk, As Sulaymaniyah, Diyala. On a table in the middle was a relief diorama of the territories McColl and the farseeing men dreamed of conquering.

  Two technicians worked at computers. McColl stood behind one of them, a heavy man at least fifty years old. “Where’s Gladden tonight?”

  The technician brought up a map and zoomed in on a blinking spot. “It’s a Best Western motel in Tucson,” he said.

  “And Agent Shaw?”

  The technician went through the same routine. He smiled when he said, “He’s at a Best Western just three miles from Colonel Gladden.”

  “This is just one of my western command centers. We have access to every database, every database in existence. Here…” McColl went to the computer terminal in the middle, the one with the largest screen. He stood over the keyboard, typed a little, and my military records came up. My status was listed as “Temporary assignment, liaison Treasury Department.”

  “If I want to, I can make changes,” McColl said.

  “Can you make me a colonel?”

  He logged out and moved to the diorama. “We knew we would need seed money, and the funds that Saddam had stolen fit our needs perfectly. We arranged a shipment and storage method that would last until our moment came. Our group is ready. The time is fast approaching for action. That’s why we started to retrieve the money.”