by Blake Banner
“Fuck them!” I stood up. “Let them come! We’ll go back to Boston, or new York. We’ll go to the media and expose them. We’ll give the evidence to the FBI…”
She stood and held my face in her hands. “Lacklan, please listen to me. These people control the media, they can influence the courts and they have powerful people in the FBI. They are an infection that feeds on power, and they have tendrils everywhere. There is a way to do this, but you have to trust me and believe that I know what I am talking about.”
I took hold of her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I don’t want to let you go again. If you are in danger, I have to protect you.”
“Lacklan, we haven’t time. Trust me. I know what I am doing. You have to go, or we will both be killed.”
“So…when will I see you again? What happens now?”
“Soon. What happens now is that you go, quickly! If they catch us together, we are finished.”
I took my kit bag and she followed me to the door. She reached up and kissed me.
“Now, go!”
I stepped out into the night and made my way back down the track. I was sure she was wrong. I knew she was wrong. I was too tired to think it through, but there was no way they could recover from the damage I had done to them that night. No way.
As I came out from the tree cover into the light of the rising full moon, I saw the blaze of light over in the northwest and smiled to myself. Far off I could hear the throb of a chopper and the buzz of planes dumping tons of water onto the burning complex.
Halfway down the track I heard a different noise. It was the wail of sirens. I slipped off the road and lay down among the shrubs behind a tree. Thirty seconds later a whole convoy sped past, with sirens blaring, headed toward what was left of the farm. The sheriff’s Ford pick-up was in the lead, followed by two deputies. Then there were two fire trucks and three cars from the state police.
There would be more. And it was time I disappeared. That was clear.
I scrambled down the rest of the slope and ran across the road. Then I made my way back to the diner cross-country, keeping to the wooded areas and below the crest of the highlands. I finally got back to Turret at two AM. I let myself in through the back door and went through to the bar. I realized I was starving, but I was too tired to make any food. I grabbed a bottle of Irish and a glass and collapsed into a chair. I poured myself a generous measure and drained the glass. Then I poured another and pulled a packet of Camels from my pocket. I lit up, took a long, deep drag, and sighed.
I heard a noise and looked up. Blueberry was standing in the door that led to the stairs. Her eyes were puffy, either from sleep or lack of it. She gave something that wanted to be a smile.
“You’re alive.”
“I think so. Just about.”
“Did you eat?”
“The restaurant was closed.”
“What did you do, Lacklan?”
I looked at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “It’s better you don’t know, baby.”
“You hungry?”
I nodded and she went to the kitchen. Soon I heard the sound of frying, and I smelled bacon and singed steak. I drifted for a couple of minutes and she woke me with a plate of bacon, steak and fries. I poured her a glass of whiskey and ate hungrily while she watched and smoked and drank.
When I’d finished, I took her up to my room.
Sixteen
I woke up to see the sun streaming through my window. For a moment I had a sense of panic. I sat up and reached for my watch. It was ten AM. I had overslept and I needed to be on the move. I stood and seven different types of pain wracked my body from my head down to the soles of my feet.
I went to the bathroom and stood under a stream of cold water for ten minutes, then soaped myself and washed my hair. When I stepped out again, I felt better. Not good, but better.
As I toweled myself dry, I heard voices downstairs. It was the sheriff. I dressed quickly, put a fresh magazine in the Sig and slipped it in my waistband behind my back. Then I crept halfway down the stairs to listen.
Blueberry was talking. Her voice was loud and strident.
“I’m telling you, Sheriff, there was something wrong with that man. He gave me the creeps. Last time I saw him, let me think, was yesterday, when you come ’round and he hit poor Mr. Maddox’s driver. After you’d gone he upped and left. Never so much as paid his goddamn bill. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mom and Daddy!”
The sheriff’s deeper drawl cut in. “Well if he comes back, Blueberry, you just make sure and call me. You understand?”
“Don’t you worry about that, Sheriff. If he so much as shows his face ’round here I’ll be on the phone to you.”
I heard the door bang and sprinted back up the stairs to peer out of the window. I saw the sheriff’s pick-up and two deputies’ cars waiting outside. The sheriff was leaning on one of them talking through the window. Two ambulances crawled by with their lights flashing, then accelerated away toward Salida. I saw the sheriff stand erect and hitch up his pants, like he was watching somebody approaching. I angled myself and saw a black limo turn into the street from North Spring Road. It was not a Caddie, but an Audi. It pulled up in front of the sheriff.
I was frowning. Was it the Feds? Was it somebody from Omega who had driven in this morning while I was sleeping? There might have been another limo at the plant, but who the hell was left to drive it?
The driver got out. He was in a suit, but he had that unmistakable military bearing. He had a crew cut and aviator shades. He also had a lot of bruises and cuts. He walked around the car and opened the back door. The man who got out had his arm in a sling. Part of his face was bandaged and his skin was a livid red color in patches. But the son of a bitch was alive. Tau had survived the bomb and the resulting firestorm.
I reached for my kit bag on the floor and pulled out my assault rifle. I went to the window and was about to haul it open and finish the job, but Blueberry’s voice came from behind me.
“Don’t do it, Lacklan.”
I turned to face her.
“They’ve been driving through all morning, going to the farm and coming back. I don’t know what the hell you did last night, but there must be over a hundred cops there. If you kill him now, they’ll kill both of us.”
I looked back out the window. Tau was staring up at the diner. He seemed to sigh, said something to the sheriff and climbed back in his car. It took off and the sheriff and deputies followed after him.
A feeling of dread washed over me. I turned to Blueberry. “Let me borrow your car for an hour.”
She sighed, reached in her pocket and threw me the keys. I glanced out the window. The street was clear. I ran down the stairs and out onto the porch. The road was still empty. I leapt over the rail and climbed into her small Toyota. Then I hit the gas and took off toward Marni’s cabin. I knew what I was going to find, but I had to see it for myself. I didn’t bother to hide the dust trail. The time for hiding was long past. What I needed now was speed.
I turned onto the track and probably wrecked her suspension doing fifty MPH over rocks and potholes until I skidded to a halt outside the cabin. I scrambled out and ran. As I did so, I noted the ground had been churned up by at least four sets of tires. I ripped open the door and went in.
The coffee pot was on the floor. The pool of coffee around it had not yet dried. The mugs she and I had drunk from that night were overturned and the coffee table had been yanked aside. There was nothing else, but the story it told was clear. They had burst in. She had tried to run and they had snatched her. She had probably been in the Audi with Tau.
Next time I saw him, I promised myself, next time I saw him I would not stop until I had torn his heart from his chest.
I left the cabin and headed up the hill at a run. My legs were screaming and my lungs were screaming louder, but I wasn’t listening. I needed to get to the Hole in the Wall. I needed to see if she had left anything for me there, any clue, any message
, anything that might help.
I reached the small plateau and had to stop. My bruised ribs, from where the Ape Man had beaten me the day before, felt like they were going to split. I continued, scrambling over rocks and stumbling on the loose stones until I was able to jump down into the hollow.
I peered in the cave. There was nothing new. Nothing had been disturbed. It was as I had last seen it. I caught my breath and started the slipping, sliding descent toward the tree. With my heart pounding, partly from the exertion and partly out of fear of what they would do to Marni if I didn’t get to her in time, I crawled under the lower branches of the old pine and began to dig. I pulled up the board and looked inside the hole.
The ledger was not there, because it would not fit. But the contents of the ledger, rolled up and sealed in a plastic bag, were there. So were the pills and the jar of bugs. The Sig 232 was gone.
I covered it again and sat, with my back against the ancient trunk and tried to think. How? How had they found her? The very reason they’d given me the beating was to try and find out where she was. I had razed the place to the ground and escaped. And within a few hours they had found her.
Then it came back to me. I had been exhausted, too tired and too much in pain to think clearly. But even so, it had struck me as strange at the time. My gun, my knife and my phone right there, waiting for me. I pulled my cell from my pocket and opened it up. There it was, right by the SIM card. Another fucking tracking device. They had only expected me to escape. They had not expected me to destroy their entire complex. But even so, I had led them right to her.
I took my time going back, turning over in my mind the possibilities. I had no idea where they might take her, and as far as I could see, I had lost any chance of finding out. I came to the cabin and leaned on the roof of the car, looking out across the treetops at the long trail of smoke that lingered on the afternoon air.
No way of finding out where she was, unless…
I climbed in the car and drove back to the diner at a more leisurely pace.
I pushed in to the dark, quiet room. Blueberry was leaning on the bar looking bored.
“You killed all my clients, you fucking asshole.”
I grabbed the phone and said, “All except one. Make me a burger, will you?”
I dialed the number I had memorized. It rang twice and a rather prissy voice said, “Don’t say anything. I’ll call you back.”
I hung up and fifteen seconds later the phone rang. I picked it up and the same voice said, “I know who you are. Don’t use any names. This is a secure line. The call has been rerouted through one hundred and fifty countries, but still, it’s best to be safe. How can I help you?”
“Somebody put a tracking device in my phone, so they could follow me. Can we reverse that and find out where the receiver is?”
He was silent for a moment, then he said, “Yes, we can do that. Can you pick me up from Colorado Springs tomorrow, at the airport?”
“Yes. How did you know…?”
“Your phone number. Give me your cell number too. Just wait for me in the parking lot. I’ll find you. Just bear with me…” I heard him rattling at a keyboard. After a couple of minutes he said, “OK, one-thirty PM.”
I gave him my cell number and he hung up.
Blueberry was leaning on the kitchen doorjamb looking at me. She looked depressed.
“I’ll make it right, Blueberry.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“I do what I say.”
She smiled ruefully. “I guess you do, at that.”
Seventeen
Colorado Springs Airport is on the eastern edge of town, on the Milton E Proby Parkway, and has a very large parking lot. I used the Zombie and made the trip in good time, though I took it easy. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself. I pulled in off the parkway and found a spot as close to the airport as I could. It was one-fifteen. At one-forty I saw a guy walking toward me. He was thin, dressed in the same jeans and sweatshirt he’d probably been wearing for the last six weeks, and his blond hair hung all the way down to his waist. He was carrying a metal, reinforced attaché case and looked like somebody NASA would probably employ.
He opened the door and climbed in the passenger seat. I stared at him as he opened his briefcase and held out his hand to me. The case was, as I had imagined, a computer.
“Is the tracker still fitted to your phone?”
“How can you be so sure it’s me?”
“Let’s not waste time.”
“Yes, it’s still fitted to my phone.”
“May I have it, please?”
I handed him the cell and he connected it to a USB which then plugged into the PC.
“OK,” he said, “It’s still transmitting. If it had stopped transmitting that would have been a problem. But it is still sending a signal, so, with the right software, we can follow that signal.” He rattled at the keyboard and then paused. “OK, we are connecting.”
“You owe my father a favor?”
“I’m sorry.” He was staring at the screen. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“I’d like to pay you for your services. I don’t want to accept anything from my father.”
“I hear you, but I can’t accept. While we wait, let’s talk about something. I gather you want to go after these people?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then it would be helpful for you if they thought you were somewhere else.”
“Of course.”
“So after I have identified where the receiver is, here is what we are going to do. This transmitter is operating through your telephone, not through your SIM. So you are going to take your SIM out and let me take your phone with me. I will take it to New York and throw it off a ferry on the Hudson. This device is pretty sophisticated. If they are monitoring it, it will seem you have either jumped or fallen to your death.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course. After that, if you need my services again, you will have to pay. I consider my debt to your father cleared.”
“You got a deal.”
There was a ping from the computer and he began to type furiously, muttering about how they had taken the precaution of covering their tracks. But after ten minutes he smiled. “OK, as you might expect, they are actually very close. They are on the outskirts of Salida, just past Poncha Springs, on County Road 220.” He turned the computer so I could see it. I made a mental note, but he went back to his computer. “Let’s see if we can get some satellite imagery.”
He typed some more and spoke without looking at me. “You got a laptop with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me your email.” I told him and he typed as I spoke. “OK, I have sent you a dozen pictures. It’s the best I can do. It’s not perfect, but it should help you some.”
I frowned at him. I was wondering what he owed my father. “Thanks…”
“Don’t mention it.”
He disconnected my phone, opened it and removed the SIM card, which he handed to me. “You’ll have to buy a new phone, but it’s a small price for getting these bastards off your back. They are very dangerous, but I guess you know that already.”
I smiled. “Yeah. They know that about me now, too.”
He gave something that might have been a smile and said, “Don’t tell me. Not now. Maybe some other time, I hope.” He held out his hand. “Good luck, Mr. Walker.”
We shook. “Good luck, Mr. Gantrie.”
He climbed out and walked quickly back toward the airport.
I cruised down to South Tejon Street, where there was a computer store, and bought a printer, then I drove back up to Turret. I was keen to have a good look at the satellite images Gantrie had sent me. Knowing he was no longer in debt to my father made me feel better about accepting his help.
When I got back, Blueberry was sitting on the porch. I took the car around back, set it to recharge and walked through the bar to join her. On the way, I du
mped the printer on a table and picked up a couple of cold beers and a chair. I handed her one and sat next to her, to look out over the empty dirt road.
She accepted the bottle and took a pull. “I’m going to sue you for destroying my business.”
I winced but she didn’t see me because she was looking at the empty road. Then I shrugged. “You probably made more out of me in the past couple of days than you made out of all your customers in the last month.”
She turned to look at me. “You’re going to pay?”
I frowned. “Of course. I always pay. Ask Maddox.”
She turned away again. “I would, only, you know, he’s dead, along with all his crew.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She smiled, but not at me. “Yeah? How?”
“I’ll find a way.” After a while I said, “You like running a bar?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m good at it.”
“OK.”
She put her hand on my knee. “You get sorted?”
“Yeah. I bought a printer. I need to print some photographs.”
She studied my face a moment. “What of?”
I smiled. “A ranch.”
“Another one?” She looked worried.
“This one is different. There are no crazy crops to be burnt. No factories. Just a friend to rescue and a score to settle.”
She shook her head. “You are the craziest son of a bitch I ever met. Can I help in any way?”
“Yeah. Stay safe.”
I got up and went inside to start unpacking the printer. She followed and sat watching me in silence. When I had hooked it up to my laptop and installed the drivers, I downloaded the emails Gantrie had sent me and started printing the satellite images. It was a slow process.
I drained my beer and held up the bottle. “You want another?”
She looked up at me and seemed to study my face. “What are you going to do when you’ve rescued your friend and settled your score?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll go back to Wyoming, keep fixing cars.”
She smiled, but it was a sad smile. “Wouldn’t you like to fix cars in Colorado?”