Bonner Incident

by Thomas A. Watson

  Six quarters later, Gene spoke. “Could you call the mill and try to get the job in your name?”

  “Iffen it will help Josh, I’ll try.”

  “Do it now and I’ll call you back in two hours,” Gene said.

  “Don’t give a man much time to un-retire, but I understand the hurry up,” Eddie replied and he hung up.

  Looking at the phone, “Damn, he’s sure short on formalities,” Gene mumbled. Hanging up the phone, and getting back the few quarters left, Gene grabbed his phone book and headed inside. He sat down and a waitress came over holding out a menu.

  “No thank you,” he grinned, “Pineapple and sausage pizza and beer.”

  Two hours and a few Millers later, Gene walked across the street to the Gas & Go and bought a roll of Copenhagen. When the clerk went to get his change, “Quarters please,” Gene said, opening the roll and pulling out a can.

  Dumping the quarters in his pocket, Gene walked out the door opening the can. “I should shoot the feds myself, getting me riled up enough to start dipping again,” he grunted and shoved a dip in his lip.

  Snatching the phone up, he dialed the number and just started shoving quarters into the phone, hoping the little electronic lady inside choked on them. Hearing the phone start ringing, he stopped with the quarters as the ringing stopped for the second time and Eddy shouted, “What took you so long?!”

  “I had to buy some chew,” Gene answered spitting.

  “Well, Eddy Shore Old Time Logging is back in business, if you want. The mill said I could have the contract,” Eddy explained. “The damn pirates will barely cover wages, but at least I ain’t got no equipment payments and the mill will cover trucking. And the timber is all cut.”

  “Good,” Gene sighed. “What shape’s the tower and loader in?”

  “Okay, as far as I know. I just store it for Josh. Probably take two weeks to get it up to speed.”

  “Tell you what I’m gonna do,” Gene spoke thoughtfully. “Frank and four or five others will be over next week to start repairs. I’ll get them a grub stake of ten to twenty grand to cover cost.” He was sure Sonya would cover his gamble.

  “Now, you’ll have to pay their wages and expenses. We need to keep Josh and Sonya out of this to protect his equipment over there. Use the grubstake until the mill starts paying. I’ll see you receive the profits,” Gene finished and yanked the phone away.

  “FUCK you AND the horse you rode in on GENE!” Eddy bellowed and Gene swore he felt his hair and beard blow back. “I’m gonna come over there and kick your ass. I don’t want one dadburn dime for this. I respect that young man too much!”

  Hearing Eddy take a breath, Gene brought the phone to his mouth. “Easy, old timer.”

  “Don’t ‘easy me’. I’m so hopping mad, I may just take that .45 I kept after Iwo Jima and start a war against them tree hugging brush hippies and feds over there,” Eddy growled and spat.

  “Don’t do that!” Gene snapped. “That won’t help Josh or his crew.” Not hearing Eddy rant, Gene continued. “Just keep them working and doing what they know best. They’re good men as you know, but they’ll get in trouble if they stay here.”

  A grunt sounded over the phone and Gene took that as okay. “Is that hot-blooded Ben coming over? You know, Clallam County jail’s got a cell named in his honor and the county sure could use the bail money. Josh always pays to keep him on the job.”

  “I don’t know, Ben’s about to go crazy over this. He’ll most likely stay over here,” Gene sighed really wanting Ben to go. “Tell the county, sorry about lost revenue.”

  “Fuck ‘em,” Eddy huffed.

  “Eddie, you call Frank and set up the details once you get the contract signed. Be best if you don’t call me till this is over. And Eddie, keep all this on the QT.”

  “You don’t worry about that. Tell Josh if you can, I’m behind him one hundred percent,” Eddy said in a cheery voice.

  “I will. Frank can catch you up on what went down when he gets….,” Gene stopped as the electronic bitch came on. ‘Please deposit a dollar fifty to continue.’

  “Hope you choke woman,” he growled shoving quarters in till the phone came back on.

  Hearing Eddy breathing, Gene continued. “When Frank gets there, the phones will be bugged.”

  “Fuck ‘em,” Eddy said as he hung up.

  “Uh! Bye,” Gene replied hearing the dial tone. “Crusty old coot,” Gene said hanging the phone up.

  Gathering his quarters, he stuffed them back in his pocket and opened the door of his F350. He turned the key waiting for the glow plugs to shut off as he thought. “Hopefully Frank and the others will go for this deal,” he mumbled and fired up the engine and headed to Frank’s.

  Chapter Eleven

  After sleeping for ten hours and spending a day organizing the dugout, Joshua loaded up basic equipment on the horse and mule way before sunrise and set off to get radio reception. Not only the two police radios he took but public radio. He needed to get information about what was going on. The forest and mountains where he was currently located were called ‘a wilderness’ for a reason, and radio reception was impossible.

  He headed for Priest Lake, staying on the west side since there was nothing on the upper north side but wilderness; but there were cell and radio relay towers there. They served the state park on the east side of the lake and a few parks on the west.

  Taking off his cap, Joshua reached up and rubbed his buzz cut head. The inch-long hair on his head felt funny till he rubbed his clean shaved face. “I look weird,” he mumbled and put his cap back on. Luckily, the only part of him that was weathered were his forearms, his face was just as white as the rest of his body. He had been worried that half his face would be ghost white from his beard, but there was very little difference.

  “Momma would be happy,” he said reaching down to pat King and looking back at the mule. He was worried about leaving the mule because if anyone did come near, a mule in a rope corral would be suspicious. If he would’ve left it, he would have to go back just to feed it, so the mule was trailing along.

  At noon, he reached the bottom of Upper Priest Lake and the FBI radio started to crackle with weak signals. When he was half way to Priest Lake, he was getting a good signal for both radios and he started to try and decipher what was being said.

  Reaching back in the saddle bag, he pulled out the cellphone William had given him. He turned it on to see the screen say hello as the phone powered up. Looking around through the thick forest, he looked up, barely seeing blue sky above him.

  Chris had been in the Gulf War and had taught everyone what the government could do. He’d taught everyone how to hide from thermal scopes and drones whether they wanted to learn or not. When Chris got out of the Army, he’d had a serious distrust for the government. At the time, Joshua didn’t understand, but then he started seeing how the government treated its veterans.

  ‘NNNNN’ rang out as his hand vibrated and Joshua jumped in the saddle. “Jesus!” he cried looking down and realized it was the cellphone vibrating. “Oh fuck,” he said tapping the screen and pulling King to a stop. His mind filled with horrors of his family in danger as he waited for the message to load.

  When it came up he saw it was sent yesterday and read, ‘Hey, it’s red goatee. Son said they could trace certain words so can only use plain ones so follow. First from red goatee, your mini me is so smart it’s scary. Second, friend with a star on his chest says neither he nor any like him are after you but the other ones like you met are and they don’t want to bring you in. The bad cowboys will terminate you on sight. Friend with star says adjust your plans accordingly, if you make a mistake it will probably be your last. Don’t hide, evade. The star is standing up for you but he’s fighting the ocean with his bare hands. FYI, star put a man at your house and by the time you get this one of the crew will be there at all times.

  Family is good but feds are watching them and all of us close so don’t plan on another message soon un
less shit happens. Family more worried about you than them. This part had to memorize word for word from mini me.

  Sky is high, road is long but we are holding. Miss you but stay dark. Only use what I gave you near a place with others. Machines are grabbing anything in the air, keep what you’re reading this on off if at all possible. Luv u.

  I ate the message mini me gave me so if I was caught they would have to shove a hand up my ass, hehe ;)’

  Joshua quickly dug out a notepad and copied the message then erased it turning off the phone. The message William had made Ben memorize was a saying that Joshua used a lot. ‘As the sky is high and the road is long and trouble never comes alone’.

  Joshua looked at the words he’d written, feeling irritated. When William said he would contact him when it was safe and very adamant about it, Joshua asked if he would give him a message if the feds were hassling them hard and this answered his question. Since Sonya and William thought it was worth the risk to contact him this soon, Joshua knew they believed Buck. He tucked the notepad in his jacket and kicked King in the flanks. “We have some shopping to do,” he said and King started moving as he guided him between the trees.

  Pulling out his FM radio, Joshua turned it on to hear the announcer give the hourly report of what was going on.

  ***

  Not even ten miles away, Homeland Agent Griffey looked around the table at Burrows and Moore. Homeland had taken over every resort on the west side of Priest Lake and the motel in Nordman. The local population was beyond hostile, but didn’t do anything threatening.

  Outside of Elkin Lodge, they had two huge tents set up for command centers, and the restaurant was told to have a buffet set up at all hours. Inside the lodge was a conference room where the group heads met to deal with problems and outline the hunt.

  Standing at the head of the table in the conference room, Griffey looked at his number two, FBI Agent Burrows. “So, any other problems with the hicks around here?”

  “The owner of the store in Nordman has closed it, and the store to the small community north of us closed as well. The Dollar store is open though,” Burrows said looking at his notes. “We are starting to get caravans of cars of lookie loos and protesters. We need to stop them from getting close to the command area.”

  Turning to a huge map on the wall, Griffey pointed. “I want a roadblock set up here, south of Lamb Creek at Outlet Bay. Then another, north of Priest Lake at this State Park. That will seal the area for the most part.”

  “You do have people that live here, Griffey,” Moore said shaking his head. “You can’t deny them access to their property.”

  Griffey looked over his shoulder at Moore, “If they have valid ID that states they have a purpose here then they can pass but otherwise, they are hindering an ongoing manhunt.”

  “We don’t even know for sure Anderson is in this area,” Moore said shaking his head.

  Stepping over to the table, Griffey picked up a thick folder. “Your report said it was the most likely place and we’ve had no reports of his truck being seen.”

  “I know what’s in my report Griffey, but I also said he’s familiar with the area in the Lolo forest to the south. It’s just as rugged and remote. You can’t start putting all our resources in one area until we have more information.”

  “It’s a place to start,” Griffey snapped. “Have you given up on getting local law enforcement help?”

  Giving a huge sigh, “Yes,” Moore said. “I don’t know what you did, but boy, did you piss them off.”

  “My job,” Griffey snapped harder. “We will have National Guard troops here by this evening. The governor has only allowed for them to man the roadblocks. They aren’t allowed on any search team.”

  “How did you get the governor to sign off on that?” Burrows snickered.

  Griffey turned with his customary cold smile. “The president said if he didn’t at least provide some assistance, he would federalize them and do it himself.”

  Grabbing a legal pad, Burrows chuckled. “We have enough support now to start searching the area, where do we start?”

  Moving to another map that was shaded from the west side of Priest Lake following Highway 57, to the town of Priest Lake forming the eastern border, then to the east side of the Pend Oreille River forming the western border, north to the Canadian border, and south to the Pend Oreille River. “This is our search area until we have other leads,” Griffey said outlining the box with his finger.

  “Are you crazy?” Moore blurted out.

  Turning around, Griffey shook his head. “It’s only twenty-five miles wide and fifty long. I’ve had larger search areas before and caught my suspect,” he almost growled.

  “That’s almost a million acres and this isn’t the Midwest or the South. That is mountain wilderness out there with minimal roads, if you can call a logging track a ‘road’,” Moore said shaking his head. Then, he looked at another map that outlined the Lolo forest to the south and it was even bigger. Knowing they didn’t have the resources to search where they were now, he just left that one alone.

  “Agent Moore,” Griffey said crossing his arms over his chest. “The state police and Forestry Service are providing guides, and the military searches for terrorists in mountains with much more rugged terrain than this.”

  “We aren’t the military,” Moore snapped. “This isn’t Afghanistan. These mountains here are covered in thick forest, so air is all but useless. You could hide an army in that million acres and it would take an army to find them. We are looking for one man who knows how to move, live, and survive in the mountains. An army couldn’t help us find him. We need intelligence of where he would likely go, so we can narrow our search.”

  “That’s your job,” Griffey said with a curt nod.

  Leaning over the table, Moore looked at Griffey hard, to show he wasn’t intimidated by the man. “I was handed this mess four days ago and my staff and I are still compiling data, building a more detailed profile. Hell, I was just given a list of his mother’s assets last night.”

  Dropping his arms to his side as his face hardened. “What do you mean, you were only handed his mother’s assets last night?”

  “Just what I said. Last night, and my team is still going through them.”

  Griffey looked over at Burrows. “You said we had everything two days ago.”

  “Well, Moore wanted his mother’s holdings and a few others, like his wife and friends. It’s taking some time to gather that much data on that many people,” Burrows said nonchalantly.

  Stepping over to the table and leaning over, “You get all the material Moore asked for by tonight. Call the NSA and put a priority on it now,” Griffey snapped.

  “I already have,” Burrows said trying to not act scared. “They told me that much banking information takes time without a warrant.”

  “Well, get a warrant,” Griffey snapped.

  Swallowing, trying to wet his throat, “The judge wouldn’t give us the warrants to get information on his friends. He said it wasn’t a valid reason and referred to it as fishnet tactics.”

  “Which judge?” Griffey said picking up a phone.

  “Edward Wright,” Burrows said reaching for a bottle of water.

  “This is Homeland Agent IC Steven Griffey. You need to get word to Judge Edward Wright that he needs to start playing ball here,” he almost yelled into the receiver. “I don’t give a shit if he’s a federal judge, do it!”

  Moore shook his head, “Don’t threaten a federal judge, Griffey. They don’t like that.”

  Covering the mouthpiece as he listened, Griffey looked over at Moore. “Like I give a shit, we work for the same boss and he can be replaced.”

  Moore shook his head as Griffey took his hand away from the receiver. “Thank you, now find another judge to sign the warrants in the next hour,” he said and then listened. Shaking his head, “No, we can’t do that with this much information on multiple subjects. I want all financial, medical, real estate, phone
, transportation… Basically, I want everything from the day they were born. If they went to preschool, I want to know what pictures they finger-painted.”

  Griffey listened. “Hold on,” he said then looked at Burrows. “How many subjects?”

  “Eighty-six,” Burrows said and Griffey relayed that into the phone as Moore leaned over.

  “Burrows, I only asked for twelve,” he whispered.

  Reaching over and grabbing the folder with Joshua’s profile, Burrows held it up. “You have eighty-six probable people of interest in here.”

  “Burrows, some of those people are law enforcement and attorneys, others are rather wealthy. We really don’t need to piss them off,” Moore said as Griffey continued talking on the phone. “We are already in a shit storm here.”

  Shaking his head, “Only locally, three out of four in the rest of the nation are behind us. Many believe that Joshua has powerful friends in the state government that are helping him,” Burrows said with a smile.

  “How on earth would they even come to that conclusion?”

  “Two of the networks reported a probable link yesterday. The others all picked up with it, and as far as the rest of the nation is concerned, it’s a bunch of hicks that don’t want to work with the government.”

  Sitting back in his chair, Moore shook his head. “Three out of four ain’t bad, but that still leaves over seventy million in favor of the suspect, and that’s a lot of people.”

  “When we hit Waco, six out of seven supported us,” Burrows said.

  Moore chuckled. “Yeah, and six months later, three out of four were against our actions.”

  “So?” Burrows said as Griffey yelled at the phone. “We were done and nothing came about, did it?”

  “Depends on what you mean,” Moore said as Griffey slammed the phone down.

  “The data will be here in the morning,” he said puffing and looked over at Burrows. “The NSA said they can’t risk a data sweep that big. It was too much of a risk.”

  “That’s what they told me,” Burrows said relieved.

  Kicking a chair, Griffey walked back to the head of the table. “You know, it’s hard to catch people when you have rules and they don’t.”