by Jordan Dane
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Mercer muttered under his breath. The others sitting at the table glanced over their shoulders in curiosity.
The elderly man stood, hunched over, with mussed gray hair and deep fissures in his skin from years of age and hard living. His skin carried sheen from sweat and oil. The man wore layers of baggy clothing and his fingers shook as his hands hung limp at his sides. His eyes wouldn’t settle as he cowered from coming any further.
Keiko surprised Mercer when she touched the man’s elbow with care and urged him to follow her. It didn’t take long for a wall of stench to hit. Stetson blinked and restrained a grimace, but to his credit, he didn’t complain. He stood and gave up his chair.
“Take my seat, compadre.”
Keiko helped the man sit before she made her introduction.
“This is Franklin. He lives in that park down the street.” She shared how she had found him. “Tell them what you told me, Franklin, about the kid in the park.”
At first, the man lowered his chin and twisted his head as if he hadn’t heard her. After Keiko raised her hand to the others, a signal they should have patience, he opened up.
“Four cowards wearing hoods like the KKK, they beat up that kid and dragged him off. He tried talking to them, but they were thick in the head and wouldn’t listen.”
“Did you catch the vehicle or a license plate?”
“I didn’t get a plate, but it was a black F150. It had a sticker on the bumper, something with a Confederate flag. That’s all I seen.”
“Was the kid still alive when they dragged him away?” Mercer asked.
The man lowered his head and couldn’t look him in the eye.
“I don’t rightly know.” His cheeks flushed red with shame. “The kid didn’t stand a chance.”
“Have you told the police?” Mercer asked.
When the man’s eyes grew wide, Mercer knew the answer before Franklin said another word.
“No, sir. I don’t trust ‘em. When the uniforms came to the train, I hid.” He lowered his head. “But I hate what happened to that boy. I wish—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Franklin,” Mercer said. “You’re doing something now, by speaking up. Let’s get you something to eat and drink.”
Mercer would’ve bought Franklin anything he wanted, but the man settled for a double hamburger with fries and a chocolate shake. He expected the old man to eat his meal fast, but Franklin took his time and savored every morsel, mewling between bites like a cat on catnip.
“Should we tell the police about the witness Keiko found?” Stetson asked. “With four men in hoods and connected to a black F150, they could know the bastards if they’re local.”
Before Mercer opened his mouth, Franklin raised his voice.
“No. I didn’t mind takin’ to the pretty lady with a gun. She was nice to me.”
“Nice?” Stetson crooked his lip into a lazy smile.
When all eyes shifted to Keiko, she crossed her arms and glared back in silence as Franklin went on.
“But I won’t say nothin’ to cops. No, sir.” The old man shook his head in defiance.
“That’s your right, Franklin,” Mercer said. “We’ll protect your identity.”
When he turned toward Stetson, Mercer lowered his voice.
“If we can follow Franklin’s lead to the next step, we may not need to involve him. There could be a reason he doesn’t trust the police. Chief Myerson didn’t welcome our help in the least, and if this is a hate crime, he could make our job harder if he thinks he’s protecting his citizens from outsiders.”
“We don’t need the added friction. I agree.” Stetson nodded. “I’ll contact Nilah on that truck. She can pull a DMV list of anyone who owns a black F150. That could be the next step we need and that Confederate flag could help us ID the owner.”
“Exactly. When you get that list, take one of the SUVs. You and Keiko can narrow it down to see if we have a few possibles.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m taking Ciara with me to visit Zach Upton and his folks. Nilah made an appointment with them to set up our visit. They live in Helena. From what Nilah found out, Zach is still staying with them. He’s pretty shook up by the disappearance of his friend.”
“Sounds like we have a plan, amigo.” Stetson shifted his eyes toward Franklin. “Do you think Keiko can talk our eye witness into a long hot shower?”
Mercer grinned.
“Good luck with that.”
***
Zion
Laramie Mountains, Wyoming
An hour later
With her Alliance team in Montana, Nilah hated being virtually alone at Zion. Maddix had been going through therapy for his injury and had been focusing on his recovery. He’d turned into a ghost.
She’d only received one request for assistance from Stetson. It had been easy to hack into Montana’s DMV and send Stetson a list of black F150 truck owners with their addresses. Beyond the one task and the flurry of haste to get the information back to Stetson, she had time on her hands. Nilah didn’t like being idle.
The sprawling high-tech compound didn’t feel right without the high spirits of her teammates. She missed the laughter, the community meals, and the shared kitchen duty. Nilah sat in the dim lights of the bunker, working her keyboard and watching the display monitors situated across her computer pod. She took comfort in the ergonomic chair she had designed for her command center and rocked in it and rolled with it as she worked.
Mercer hadn’t left her completely alone. She had Karl.
The black and tan Tibetan Mastiff—Mercer’s extraordinary search dog with the unique talent of sniffing out anything with computer chips—sat in the chair next to her. The massive dog stared at her as she worked. Given the intelligence in his eyes, she almost felt intimidated by his scrutiny.
“What do you think, Karl? I’m betting on the stupidity of haters.”
When the dog perked its ears and cocked its furry head, Nilah couldn’t resist running her hands through the scruff at his neck.
“Yeah, glad you agree.”
Nilah had a theory. If Ichiro Tanaka, and the others who’d gone missing, had been part of a conspiracy of hate crimes, there would be a weak link. Haters had a habit of bragging online or posting about their crimes like idiots because they believed they were shielded by their fake identities. If they had a modicum of computer skill, enough for the average hacker to be deterred by their online roadblocks, haters couldn’t keep their mouths shut.
Nilah counted on it.
She searched the dark web for any proverbial bread crumbs of hate. The menacing sentiments repulsed her. The vitriolic hate speech would never get easier to read. Her skin tingled with fear whenever she landed on a site filled with hatred against other human beings. It had been daunting and she almost had given up until she found a forum that disturbed her.
A video had been posted that made her gasp when she recognized a face.
“Oh, my God.”
Karl stared at the computer and growled when he heard the horrific sounds on audio.
“We have to talk to Mercer, Karl. Now.”
She placed the call with her heart racing as the disturbing sounds of the video played in the background.
Chapter 4
Outside Chaps
Helena, Montana
Stetson and Keiko had taken Franklin with them, back to the motel, with an ulterior motive. Mercer had doubts that the homeless man would willingly embrace the idea of a shower, but he knew Keiko would have her way, even if she had to use her gun.
Franklin had a right to his freedom. After he got cleaned up and given fresh clothes, Stetson and Keiko would return him to his cardboard abode in the park. His choice. The man wouldn’t be forced to come forward as a witness. Mercer wouldn’t need him to, now that his team had a lead. Stetson and Keiko would have the list of F150 truck owners to pursue. It would be a start.
Mercer had departed Chaps with
Ciara, heading for the Lincoln Navigator, when he received Nilah’s video call on his cell. He stared at the sight of Nilah and Karl sitting cheek to muzzle, with their heads spread across his display.
“This looks like trouble.”
“It is, Mercer.” Nilah looked deadly serious. So did Karl. “We found something online you need to see. I’m sending you a link.”
“Unlock the SUV. I have a feeling she’s not sending us something for public consumption.” Ciara said.
Mercer nodded as he unlocked the Navigator and they climbed inside for privacy. When his cell pinged with the receipt of her encrypted text message, he clicked on the link and shared it with Ciara as she sat in the passenger seat next to him.
Grainy shadows made it hard to decipher the video until one clear image came into focus. The face of the tortured and beaten Ichiro Tanaka emerged from the darkness, unmistakable. Two men held his arms while the others beat him senseless. His cries of pain struck Mercer and he cringed at the merciless cruelty.
Beyond the beating, another video followed of Tanaka being dragged. The rest had been too muddled to see any detail they could use.
“I found this video on a dark web forum. Lots of angry haters in that chat room, Mercer. You saw how they beat the poor guy, even after he begged them to stop. Whoever did this is sick. If this isn’t a hate crime, I’m not sure how to define it.”
“This could still be about someone making a point with Tanaka. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t want to rule anything out until we have proof, but great work, Nilah. What do you have on the person who uploaded the video?”
“As we speak, I’m hacking the forum to find the ID for the coward who posted the video. He’s cagey. So far I’ve run his online IP address through three countries and still haven’t found him, but I won’t give up. He’s mine.”
Mercer heard the sounds of keystrokes in the background and Nilah had her eyes on another monitor.
“Good work. If this leads to a mission where I need paws on the ground in Montana, to sniff out a local computer network, I expect Karl to report for duty. Understood? Keep me posted.”
“Will do, Mercer. Karl and I are on it. If his skills are needed, you’ll have him there.”
Mercer ended the call, more concerned than ever for Ichiro Tanaka. The kid fought hard, but he’d been outnumbered. Nothing made him angrier than cowards in hoods beating the crap out of a guy who had no chance.
“Let’s get these bastards,” Ciara said.
“You’re reading my mail.”
Mercer started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. He headed for the address plugged into his GPS, the Upton residence, with a newfound sense of urgency. He didn’t know if they would find Tanaka alive. A clock ticked down in his mind. Every precious second could mean the difference between life and death for Tanaka and the others on Nilah’s ‘still missing’ list.
He drove with the faces of his sweet wife and little boy in his mind and it stirred the love he still felt for them in his heart and in his soul. He didn’t want Tanaka’s family to know the grief he bore. They had only wanted the best for Ichiro. They didn’t deserve to live with the agony of losing an only son and paying for it over the rest of their lives.
Mercer couldn’t say the same.
***
Ichiro Tanaka cracked his eyes open to pitch black darkness. He’d lost track of time. Only a sliver of light leached through the gloom at the base of a door, a reminder of the world that had been taken from him. The light could be from a window and the sun, or from a bulb that never got turned off, but he couldn’t be sure.
He drifted in and out of consciousness with sounds magnifying in his mind and reality a distant memory. He relived the beating over and over, thrashing through his nightmares until he didn’t know what was real anymore.
When he forced himself to think about his surroundings, he wasn’t sure he wanted to face his predicament. From the stench of humidity and the pungent odor of the earth, he sensed his icy prison was underground—in a cave. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Food and water appeared once near him, but he couldn’t make himself eat or drink.
“Is anybody…out there?” He raised his voice, but no one ever came.
When he tried sitting up, he became nauseous and emptied his stomach. He recognized the symptoms of a concussion, but he couldn’t fight it. The ache in his body made it nearly impossible to move. Lying on a stone floor made it worse. His teeth chattered from the cold or shock. He didn’t know which.
“Is someone there?” The frightened voice of a girl reached his ear, a distant murmur that clenched his heart.
When he heard the faint voice, Tanaka let his fingertips reach toward the sound until he hit a wall of cold stone. His finger felt the sting of a sharp edge and he jerked his hand back. The fissure in the rock had turned as finely honed as a knife blade. As brisk air swept through the crack to touch his face, he breathed in the chill until more goose bumps skittered over his skin.
He lifted his head to speak.
“Yes. My name…,” his voice cracked. “…is Ichiro Tanaka.”
The strain of speaking wore him down until he lowered his head in weakness. Each word echoed in the room. He didn’t know if the men who had beaten him would come to shut him up for speaking to her, but he didn’t care.
“Tell me your name. Please, I must know,” he pleaded.
“My name is Gabriela Rivera.” Through the crack in the stone, he heard her sob.
Ichiro couldn’t help it. With trembling fingers he traced the crevice in the rock—his lifeline—and he cried too.
He wasn’t alone.
Chapter 5
Helena, Montana
Afternoon
The Uptons lived in an upscale neighborhood of Helena Valley Northeast with sprawling residences located on stunning acreage. Homes had to range in the vicinity of a million dollars plus, yet the roads were maintained gravel and the spectacular views were nature’s own forests and mountains. It would take binoculars to see a neighbor.
Located off Danas Point Drive, the Upton home had a Cliffside view that overlooked Hauser Lake and Prickly Pear Creek from a peninsula. A greenbelt of grass surrounded the home with pristine landscaping and a fence to keep deer from ravaging the grounds. Beyond the fence, the rugged terrain took over.
“It’s beautiful. The mountains remind me of Zion,” Ciara said as she climbed out of the SUV. She stretched and filled her lungs with fresh air.
“Are we expecting company?” She pointed to the cars parked in front of the home.
“Good question.” Mercer slid the car keys into his pocket and followed her to the door.
Before they reached the threshold, the entrance opened and a couple smiled as they approached—a man and a woman dressed casually in slacks and sweaters.
“Welcome to Helena. Thank you for coming,” the man said. “My name is Stan and this is my wife, Dolores. Please come in.”
“Thank you for seeing us today,” Mercer said. “I know this must be hard for you both, and Zach. I understand he’s still staying with you.”
“Yes. He’s in the family room with the others.”
“Others?” Mercer and Ciara followed the couple inside the home.
The family room had floor to ceiling windows that looked onto a breathtaking panoramic view of the lush mountains, dense with evergreens, and the dazzling blue of a wide, slow moving creek below. A fire blazed in the stone hearth. When Mercer and Ciara entered the large room, two men and a young man stood. Sitting next to one of the men, a large German shepherd pricked its ears and turned in their direction.
“At the advice of a dear family friend, Earl Taggert, we invited Hank Patterson to this meeting. This is his man, Joseph Kuntz, and his dog, Six.”
Stan Upton explained Taggert had retired from the Texas Rangers, but had been a longtime friend. One call led to another and Taggert contacted Patterson, who in turn, called Molly Greenbriar with the FBI
. Plenty of people were concerned about Ichiro Tanaka, but Mercer hadn’t expected to work with a committee.
“I have my team on the ground, working this. I didn’t expect company.”
“Don’t worry. We’re not here to crowd you.” Hank sat in a chair and invited Mercer and Ciara to do the same. “I have resources that might help, but I don’t have the expertise you do. From what Molly tells me, you’re uniquely qualified.”
Mercer sat, but Ciara stayed on her feet and wandered toward the windows. Mercer appreciated that Patterson didn’t reveal the uniqueness of his qualifications in front of civilians. He figured Patterson and Kuntz were former military. They would appreciate the covert nature of his former line of work. He didn’t like talking about his life as a CIA agent. When people found out about his past, they had too many questions he wouldn’t answer.
“I’m only asking for one courtesy.” Hank said.
“What’s that?”
“I’d like my man, Kuntz, to be a part of your team. He’s uniquely qualified, too.”
Mercer didn’t like anyone looking over his shoulder on a mission, not these days. Vigilante justice meant no courtrooms, no law other than their own. He didn’t like an outsider knowing too much about the way his team operated.
“I have a full team. I don’t like breaking in someone new while we’re on a mission.”
Mercer expected an argument from Patterson, but when he heard a woman’s voice, he turned to see Mrs. Upton sit down next to him.
“Please, for Ichiro’s sake.” Dolores Upton’s voice cracked and her eyes watered. “He’s like a son to us. Please let Mr. Kuntz help us.”
Mercer heaved a sigh and glared at Kuntz from across the room. The man did not look away. His steely eyes sent a clear message. He’d be part of the team or he’d dog their trail until they gave in. The guy looked like a real stubborn son of a bitch—someone Mercer would hire.
“I can make an exception, Mrs. Upton, for you.” Mercer stood and crossed the room to extend his hand to Kuntz. “Welcome to the team.”