When Shadows Fall

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When Shadows Fall Page 29

by J. T. Ellison


  “Then we need to be especially careful going forward.”

  “I still don’t understand why Doug Matcliff chose me, of all people, to drag into this.”

  “We may never know the answer to that, Sam. But thank goodness he did, because without you, we wouldn’t be aware of any of this. It might have been years, or never, until we put it all together. We all owe you one.”

  Xander called as they raced into D.C., Baldwin speeding across the George Washington Bridge, the flasher spinning on his dash.

  The connection wasn’t great and she didn’t catch the first few words. Then he came into range.

  “...tell them to be very cautious. These people have serious ammunition. I made five guards with AK-47s, AR-15s, sidearms and grenades on the western front. Assume there are more around the periphery.”

  “Where are you now, Xander?”

  “Three clicks south of their compound. They have it locked down completely. You’re going to have to fight your way in.”

  “We can’t do that,” Baldwin said. “We have to try to negotiate with them. We can’t just go in there blasting.”

  “They don’t look like the negotiating type, Baldwin. I’m looking for a way to breach the perimeter. I’ll call you back if I find anything.”

  “Xander, pull out. We’ve got this. I can’t have you getting hurt,” Baldwin said.

  Xander laughed. “I’ll worry about my own skin. There’s a lot of land to protect. I’m sure there are going to be a few ingress routes they can’t cover. I only count twenty people, but they’re all heavily armed. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Stand down, Sergeant,” Baldwin shouted, but it was too late; he was already gone. “Damn. Does he do that often?”

  Sam nodded. “Ignore the orders of those in charge to do it his own way? That would be a yes.”

  Baldwin pulled into the garage below the Hoover Building. “Get him back on the phone and tell him to get his ass out of there. We can’t move against them effectively if we have a civilian in the mix.”

  Sam shook her head. “He’s an asset, and he won’t stand down. You know that. So use him. He knows what he’s doing and he’s got the eyes of an eagle. You get him tied in to the strike team and he’ll get your people in and out without them getting killed. This is what he does best, Baldwin. Trust me.”

  He tapped his hand on the steering wheel. “I suppose you’re going to want to come along for the ride, too?”

  “Of course. You may need me.”

  She didn’t mention she was only good at working on the dead. She hoped there wouldn’t be a need for her particular skills.

  * * *

  As they suited up, June Davidson called with more information.

  Baldwin put him on the speaker.

  “Two things. Ellie Scarron woke up an hour ago. You aren’t going to believe the story she just told me.”

  “Let me guess,” Sam said. “Her husband was funding an illegal adoption ring, run out of the law offices of our friend Mac Picker.”

  Davidson was clearly caught off guard. “How’d you figure that out?”

  “It’s a long story. But we think Kaylie Rousch is Rachel Stevens’s mother, and she, along with a number of other women who were a part of the new religious movement the FBI’s been tracking called Eden, were being impregnated and forced to give up their babies.”

  “And they’ve been running this out of Lynchburg? Under my nose? Son of a bitch!”

  “It looks that way,” Baldwin said. “We don’t know how deep this goes, Detective, so watch your back. Our forensic accountants are gathering everything they can from the law firm’s databases, so do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone what we suspect. Our paramount issue is finding the NRM and recovering Rachel Stevens alive. Then we’ll go around the back end and mop up the rest. Are we clear?”

  “So what am I supposed to do down here, just twiddle my thumbs while y’all rush in and save the day?”

  “No. I want you to start taking apart Scarron’s life, and see where and if it matches up with Doug Matcliff.”

  “Hold up a minute. Ellie Scarron already told me her husband was a saint. He put infertile women in contact with the law offices so they could work a private adoption. He even funded part of the operation. But when the firm started getting more and more kids, they reached out to him to start finding more adoptive mothers, and he started asking questions. She’s fully convinced he was murdered.”

  Sam was surprised. “So Scarron was the good guy in all of this, just trying to help women? You think he was legitimate?”

  “I don’t know. But it bears looking into. He died here in Lynchburg. I’m going to reopen the case as a homicide, throw some resources to it, see what we can dig up. Don’t worry, I’ll do it quietly. It looked like a heart attack, and he was cremated, so there’s no chance of repeating the autopsy, but perhaps they still have the samples and slides.”

  “Cremated? Where?”

  “Hoyle’s. Where else.”

  She hated to hear that. She liked Regina Hoyle. It was too early to assume she’d been on the wrong end of this, but even the thought made Sam’s stomach curdle. “Do we need to be looking at them, too, June?” Sam asked.

  “Yep. Don’t worry, I’ll get everything cooking down here. So, the second thing, I’m pretty sure the man who killed Frederick McDonald is long gone. There was a blood trail from the house to a spot that had a surveillance camera. A Nissan Pathfinder with a Virginia license plate was parked there overnight. Looks like even though the killer was wounded, he made it back to his car and got out of Dodge.”

  “That’s a good catch, Detective,” Baldwin said.

  “Yeah, well, McDonald refused our protection, but we were on the lookout for anything suspicious near his house. Don’t tell anyone this, but one of my patrol guys saw the truck earlier in the night and thought it looked out of place, so he took down the plate and put a GPS tracker under the wheel well. The signal stopped emitting an hour ago near Great Falls, Virginia. Turned off like it had been damaged, or discovered. So you might consider watching your backs, too.”

  “Roger that, Detective. We’ll be in touch.” Baldwin looked at Sam. “This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter

  55

  Near Great Falls, Virginia

  EDEN’S NEW HEADQUARTERS was on the fringe of civilization. There were well-populated areas less than fifteen minutes to the west, south and east. To the north, across the Potomac River into Maryland, was an upscale country club community. They were surrounded by normalcy, harmony, life. But back in the woods where their little farm was secreted, time had been arrested. The land was completely undeveloped, pristine. There were no power lines running into the compound, no sewer or water, either. They were living off the land, land purchased and owned by Arthur Scarron’s trust.

  The entrance to the compound was on a dirt track deep in the woods, its access blocked by a silver three-bar gate. And though there was no power, there was a camera pointed toward the road, and a small metal arm reaching from the ground with a box on top. Either this was meant to be a deterrent, or they were running everything off generators.

  Pull up to the gate, get seen by the cameras, speak into the box and presto, the gate would open and Eden would accept you into their land. It all looked so simple, Sam thought.

  Except things weren’t going to be nearly that easy.

  Operation Angel Fire, as this incursion had been named, was well under way. Sam sat on the hood of Baldwin’s car, safely out of the way, watching the melee. There were federal agents everywhere, helicopters flying in and out, assault vehicles rolling up the road. The FBI wasn’t exactly being subtle. She thought that was risky. A magnificent show of force might make Curtis Lott and her people come out of their compound unharmed, bringing
Rachel Stevens with them. Or it could drive them into a mass suicide, as the Edenites had done before.

  The head of the HRT was a thick-necked man named Brian Cole. Ten minutes earlier, he and his crew had flown in on an MH-6 Little Bird, the men bristling with weapons, M-4s cradled in their arms, Colt 1911 .45s strapped to their thighs. There was also a gorgeous German shepherd named Dry, sitting patiently by his handler’s feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth to combat the heat.

  Sam expected the HRT to be aggressive and mouthy, but she was totally wrong. Cole was quite mellow, giving instructions in a calm voice. There were smiles and clear respect from his men. On his command, his team separated themselves into two units. A sniper/observation team stalked off into the woods, weapons up, to get the lay of the land. An assault team began making their preparations, laying out extensive maps and satellite imagery, drawing on the paper with grease pencils. To Sam, their markings looked more like an SEC football play than a deadly assault.

  Rob Thurber and Jordan Blake were off to one side, deep in discussion. Fletcher was standing by Jordan. Sam couldn’t help noticing Fletch glance at the FBI agent every so often, even when she wasn’t speaking. There was a clear attraction between them, though Sam could see Jordan was doing her best to remain neutral. Interesting.

  Unlike her less than charitable thoughts this morning, she realized Jordan would be really good for Fletcher. Smart, pretty, clearly a hotshot at the FBI. Sam thought she was a better match for him than the incredibly intense and sometimes overbearing Andrea Bianco.

  Baldwin walked up, his body armor in place. Sam was wearing a bulletproof vest, too, and was chafing in the heat.

  “You okay? Any word from Xander?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet.” She tried to keep her tone light, but she was very worried.

  “He’s fine, I’m sure. Like you said, he knows what he’s doing. Everyone here is aware that he’s in the field, and what he looks like, so don’t worry. The rules of engagement have been laid out, and they are very tight and very specific. This is a rescue mission, and everyone is under strict orders not to shoot at anything unless in extreme self-defense. With any luck, we’ll be able to get in and out without any bloodshed.”

  “Any sightings of our friend in the Pathfinder?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe he bolted. The truck was found several miles away. It’s possible he found himself another ride and left the area.”

  “No way. From everything we know, Adrian Zamyatin isn’t the kind to run from a fight. These people are his home, his world. He’ll be back, if he hasn’t already managed to get in. He could be waiting for us.”

  “Or he could be lying dead on the side of the road somewhere. You heard Davidson. He’d been shot badly enough to leave a trail of blood to the car. There’s a good chance he had to stop for medical help.”

  Sam watched the second HRT unit start moving into the woods, the dog, Dry, going first. Thurber went with them, Jordan and Fletcher following at a respectful distance.

  “What’s their plan?” she asked.

  “Thurber’s going in as the hostage negotiator. He knows the most about this group. He’s even had contact with Curtis Lott before. They’re going to have a chat with her, get her to surrender herself and her people, then start searching for Rachel.”

  “Where the hell is Kaylie Rousch?”

  Baldwin looked around as if she might appear. “No idea.”

  Sam drummed her fingers on the hood of the car. “So what am I supposed to do out here? Sit around and wait?”

  “Yep. And keep trying to connect with Xander.” He press checked his Glock out of sheer habit, made sure he had a bullet in the chamber, then holstered the weapon. “I’m going in with them. You sit tight, and keep out of harm’s way.”

  Being left behind annoyed her more than she could express. Her face must have shown her thoughts, because Baldwin thrust a radio into her hands. “You can listen. But they’d have my ass if I let you come into the extraction zone. You’re not FBI. Not yet, anyway. You shouldn’t be here at all. So don’t fight me on this, okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll just sit here like a good little girl, wait for the menfolk to do the hard work.”

  “Sam. We’re trying to keep you safe.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  He patted her on the knee and jogged off into the woods after the rest of them.

  She wasn’t alone. There were plenty of people milling about, support staff doing the procedural end of things—setting up tables and cameras, checking radios. She was safe enough. But damn it, she wanted to be where the action was.

  It would take the team an hour to hike in and get into position, barring unforeseen problems. Xander was out here somewhere, with Thor at his side. Safe, she was sure, but it had been hours since he last checked in. Granted, there weren’t any cell towers out here. Though surely he’d heard the thwap, thwap, thwap of the Little Bird chopper when it came into range, and knew the cavalry had arrived.

  She waited for ten minutes or so, realized she needed to go to the bathroom. At least she was in the woods. She could find herself a quiet tree.

  She slid off the hood of Baldwin’s car, leaving the radio behind so she’d have some privacy. Twenty yards into the woods, she unbuckled her jeans and laughed to herself. Before Xander, she would have held it until she found a bathroom. Preferably with marble fixtures. She’d learned living in the woods did have its advantages.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  The voice came from behind her, and Sam froze. She pulled her jeans up and turned slowly. Kaylie Rousch was leaning against a tree, wearing one of Sam’s good cashmere T-shirts, and the knee-high cognac riding boots she’d bought on a trip to New York two summers earlier.

  Kaylie didn’t look like a scared little girl on the run anymore. She looked very much in control of the situation, and Sam knew she was at a disadvantage.

  “You little bitch,” Sam said. “You could have killed me last night. After everything I did for you, you shove a knife in my throat and steal from me?”

  She couldn’t help it, her fists clenched and she took a step forward.

  Kaylie danced backward. “Ooh, someone’s testy today. It wasn’t stealing, Doc. Borrowing. The first time my daughter sees me, I can’t look like a beggar who’s been camping in the woods. You understand.”

  “I want my watch back.”

  Kaylie brushed her left hand past her hair, smoothing the edges, and Sam saw the weapon in her right hand. She thought it was a Glock .40, but she didn’t have Xander’s talent for recognizing every gun on sight. It was definitely a semiautomatic. Not good.

  She stopped her advance, went for casual. “Where’d you get the gun?”

  “Oh, there’s always someone willing to make a trade in this world. Only cost me a hundred bucks for the gun and two magazines of ammo. I’m telling you, these D.C. boys know how to make it worth your while. I didn’t even have to throw in your precious watch.”

  Kaylie unclasped the TAG Heuer watch from her wrist and tossed it to Sam, laughing.

  A chill went down Sam’s spine. She caught the watch and put it on. Just having the stainless-steel and gold links around her wrist made her feel safer. She knew she needed to distract the girl, make her put the weapon down. Sam might be able to wrestle it away from her, but she was hesitant to get into hand-to-hand combat. Kaylie seemed different today. Much less fragile.

  “What’s your plan, Kaylie? There are fifty FBI agents roaming these woods, all well armed and better trained than you.”

  She smiled. “Oh, I know. I need them. They’re a perfect diversion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Dr. Owens. You have to admit, you’re a bit predictable. I give you one crumb about my daughter, and look at what
you can do. Bravo, madam. You’ve laid it all out on a platter for me. The FBI gets everyone all riled up and looking forward, and I go in the back. Doug explained to me how their incursions work. I know where everyone is right now.”

  “You’re crazy if you think this is going to work, Kaylie.”

  The girl’s face darkened, and she leaped forward so quickly Sam barely had time to put an arm up in defense. Kaylie grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, setting the barrel of the gun against Sam’s throat. Sam froze.

  Kaylie spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t ever call me crazy. Now. It would be very nice if you’d come with me, Dr. Owens.”

  Sam shook her head, felt the hard metal biting into her skin. “Not going to happen, Kaylie. Let’s go back to the clearing, let them know you’re here and safe. Let the professionals do their job.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” She pressed the gun harder, pushing against the knife wound, making Sam suck in her breath in pain. Shit. Sam needed to manage the situation, keep Kaylie from doing something stupid. Like killing her.

  “Curtis will kill Rachel before she lets her be taken by the FBI,” Kaylie said. “She hasn’t ever hesitated to sacrifice the sacrosancts before. She won’t start now.”

  Sam was reminded of Thurber’s description of the barn, and the people of Eden hanging from its rafters.

  “You think she’s going to let you have her instead?”

  “Yes, I do.” She lessened the pressure of the gun slightly, but her hand was still caught up in Sam’s hair. Her voice was calm, assured. “Curtis took Rachel to get me to come back. An eye for an eye. That’s what Curtis believes in. The only way this goes down is if I sacrifice myself for Rachel. So I need you to come along with me and help with the exchange.”

 

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