Without Virtue

by Trevor Scott

  He did as she instructed.

  Then she crept into the living room in her bare feet, her light off now so her eyes could adjust. Now she could hear two voices coming from downstairs. One was her brother, and the other was the Forest Service man, she was sure.

  Just then, the back door smashed in. Robin quickly hid behind the leather sofa, her gun over the far arm. From her position, she could see the entrance to the kitchen and the basement door. But she had to be sure of her target.

  Police would enter and announce themselves, she thought. They had to do that. So, anyone coming at them would be bad guys, with the exception of her brother.

  •

  Max was about to fire upon the rogue Forest Service special agent when he suddenly heard what had to be the back door being kicked in. Now, he couldn’t hesitate any longer. The man he had chased and been chased by across the Boundary Waters had to have just entered the cabin upstairs.

  He backed away from the wall a couple of feet, raised his gun, and slid to his right, giving him a full view of the basement area.

  The first shotgun blast showed up in his NVGs like an old flash bulb from a camera. He used that blast as his target, firing at least ten rounds.

  Then Max rushed inside, sweeping his gun for his target. He fully expected to find the man to shoot at, but then he saw the man at the base of the stairs, his body leaning against the brick wall. The Forest Service man had at least two bullet strikes—one to the shoulder and another in the gut. But he was still breathing.

  Max stepped lightly toward the man and kicked away the shotgun. Then he reached down and extracted the guy’s handgun from the holster on his right hip.

  “You just shot a federal agent,” Cranston said with a growl.

  With a quick snap of his right leg, Max smashed his boot into the man’s face, knocking him out.

  Just as he did this, a number of shots came from the main level above him.

  •

  Robin heard the shots below and nearly jumped from her position behind the sofa. But she held tight as she heard footsteps coming from the kitchen.

  With the silence now, she raised both her gun and the flashlight. She clicked on the flashlight, catching the man stalking in from the kitchen. He turned and aimed at the light, but she was faster, emptying her Glock on the man and hitting him center mass from about ten feet.

  Then, calmly, she pulled the full magazine from her pocket and replaced the empty one, racking a round into the chamber.

  Now, sitting behind the sofa, Robin started to shake. It was as if she was sitting out in a snowstorm.

  Finally, a man’s voice yelled from the basement, “One down here.”

  She yelled, “One down up here, Max.” But she couldn’t force herself to come out from behind the sofa.

  “Coming up the stairs,” Max said, his voice muffled somewhat.

  •

  Max stepped lightly up the stairs. At the top of the flight, he said, “I’m coming out.”

  “Roger that,” Robin said.

  He entered the living room and swept his NVGs around the room until he saw his sister holding his compact Glock 43 behind the end of the sofa. But first he went to the man shot on the floor. He kicked the man’s handgun away from his body and noticed that Robin had hit the guy in the chest with every round in the magazine. Just to be sure, he tested for the man’s pulse. Yep, he was dead.

  Robin came over and turned her flashlight on the man.

  Max flipped up his NVGs and confirmed this was the rapist from the camp.

  She said, “I’m confused.” But then she gave her brother a big hug and added, “What took you so long?”

  “It’s a jungle out there.”

  “Are you hit?” she asked, looking at the right side of his face.

  “Not sure. Glass or shotgun blast.”

  “And the guy downstairs,” she said. “Cranston? Why?”

  “I’ll explain later. He’s taking a little nap right now, but I’ll need to tie him up until the real cops get here. Can you call this in?”

  “I already did,” came a voice from behind Max. It was Donny, who was holding a shotgun, pointed at the floor.

  “Great,” Max said. “Check on the other ladies while I tie up that asshole downstairs.”

  Max hurried to the basement and found Cranston still knocked out. He found some rope and hog tied the man’s hands and feet. Then he went back upstairs, finding all of the women together in the living room.

  Judy went to the dead man and kicked the guy in the groin.

  Positive identification, Max thought.

  Kim came to Max and gave him a big hug, holding on much longer than normal. Then her sister Pam did the same thing.

  Robin found the young girl, Judy, and held her tight. Max guessed the girl would need a lot of help over the next few months. But at least her kidnappers and rapists were all dead. That had to be some consolation to both young women.

  30

  Ely, Minnesota

  Max had reluctantly gone back to the basement to patch up Forest Service Special Agent Wayne Cranston while they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Part of him wanted to let the guy bleed out, or wished he had simply finished him off with a bullet to the face, but a nagging sense of justice permeated his soul. He knew that the only way to reveal all the victims that crew of rapists and murderers had left around the world required that Cranston remain alive.

  The first to show up at Donny’s cabin were the local Ely Police, who called in sheriff’s deputies from both St. Louis and Lake Counties. Officially these crimes had taken place in Lake County, but they were right on the border of St. Louis County. Also, Cranston had committed his conspiracy of the rape camp while in Ely. The rapes and kidnapping had taken place within the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, which was federal lands under the jurisdiction of The Department of Agriculture and the U.S. Forest Service. Eventually, it became clear that the FBI would have jurisdiction, since they were the authority on kidnapping. It took the FBI agents a couple of hours to fly north from Duluth. They would soon be joined by FBI special agents from the Twin Cities, where most of the men lived.

  Luckily for Max, his friend, NCIS Special Agent Martina Lopez, had also contacted the FBI with everything she knew about the case—which turned out to be a significant amount.

  Now, a couple of days past the incident at Donny’s cabin, Max and his sister were hanging out at a beautiful log resort near Ely, trying to unwind after countless interviews with law enforcement. Robin kept them legally solvent, while Max made sure his sister handled her shooting of the man in the cabin. It was the first time she had taken a life.

  Max came out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of shorts after showering and shaving.

  “What happened there?” she asked him, looking at his left thigh.

  He lifted his shorts and revealed a long tear of skin that was in the process of healing. “It’s nothing,” Max said. “I tussled with a guy on the portage and his gun went off, ripping my skin.”

  Max quickly got dressed with a T-shirt and cargo shorts. Out of habit, he shoved his subcompact handgun inside his waistband and covered the gun with his bulky T-shirt.

  “That’s why you wear oversized T-shirts,” Robin said.

  “Yep. Especially in the summer.”

  “But it doesn’t let the ladies see your nice physique,” she said.

  He smiled at her. “Are you worried about my sex life again?”

  “No.”

  “Because if so, you should be thinking about yourself.”

  “A couple of those police officers were very handsome,” she decided.

  “Yeah, but this is a long way from home for you.”

  “Maybe I wasn’t thinking long term,” she said with a broad smirk.

  He dismissed this notion outright. As far as he knew, his sister had never engaged in a frivolous sexual encounter with any man. She was nothing if not a proper gentlewoman.

  “What was your f
inal tick count?” he asked her.

  “Twenty-two.”

  “Thirty-eight,” he said. “I win.”

  “No. Ticks are like golf. Lowest score wins.”

  He couldn’t argue with that logic.

  “Are we ready to check out?” he asked.

  She zipped her bag and said, “I am now.”

  “I’ll take the bags to my truck while you check us out,” Max said.

  “Will do. Meet you in the restaurant.”

  They were scheduled to meet up with the Joki sisters and Donny one more time for lunch prior to driving to the airport in Duluth. Robin had a late-afternoon flight back to Salt Lake.

  After putting their bags in the truck bed and locking them inside, Max turned to see a small SUV pull into the parking lot. Kim was driving and her sister Pam was in the front passenger seat. Both of the ladies got out and came to Max.

  “Donny couldn’t make it?” Max asked.

  “No,” Kim said. “He’s got guys at his cabin replacing his windows and repairing bullet holes in his walls. He wanted us to say goodbye to you.”

  “Where’s your sister?” Pam asked.

  “Checking out and getting us a table at the restaurant.”

  Pam smiled and headed into the resort.

  Kim stopped Max with a tug on his arm. She said, “I really appreciate everything you did for us.”

  He shrugged. “I was just doing my job.”

  “No. It was more than that.”

  “Well, once I realized they had not even attempted to cover their faces to Pam and Judy, I knew they would not allow the girls to live. Also, I had a lot of help from my friend in NCIS.”

  “You’re too modest,” Kim said. “I wish I could get to know you better.”

  He tried not to answer that. “I see your ankle is much better.”

  “I can’t believe you carried me halfway down that portage,” she said. “Do you know how hot that was?”

  “I was trained to carry much heavier loads than you,” he said.

  “Still. . .”

  “We should get to lunch,” Max said. “I still have to get Robin to Duluth to catch her flight.” He didn’t mention having to pick up Martina around the same time. Max guessed that fact would only be a challenge for Kim.

  They ate a quick lunch, with everyone trying to avoid the negative aspects of this case. He knew that Pam would not be back to normal for a while, if ever. She had agreed to look in on Judy Walker from time to time also. The two young women had a shared history now, and Pam would act as a great mentor to the girl.

  “What will happen to the Forest Service guy?” Pam finally asked.

  “Cranston?” Max asked. “I understand he’s been talking to the FBI. Bragging actually. He’s proud of all of the rapes and murders. Although federal law prohibits it, he’ll probably get someone to make a movie about their actions.”

  Robin said, “If anyone deserves to make some money from this incident, it’s the two of you.”

  Pam seemed to sink in her chair.

  Kim said, “I’m not sure my sister would like that kind of scrutiny. She’s already turned down interviews from local and national news media.”

  “They will keep coming,” Max said. “It’s a compelling story.”

  Kim placed her hand on Max’s arm. “Maybe you should tell it to them.”

  “The media?” Max asked.

  “Why not?”

  Robin smiled at her brother. “Yeah, why not? It would be good publicity for our business.”

  “Don’t we already have enough cases?” he asked. “Besides, I think this might be better told through the eyes of women.”

  “Girl power,” Kim said. “I could live with that.”

  Max checked his watch and calculated the time to get to Duluth. He got up and the three women did the same thing. They walked out to the parking lot and then hugged it out all around one last time.

  Getting behind the wheel, Max waved at the ladies one more time as they left the parking lot.

  “Are you okay?” Robin asked him as she put on her seatbelt.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

  “It’ll take a while.”

  Max had spent the last two days reassuring Robin that her actions had been essential. It was either kill or be killed. Deep down she knew this was true, but it wasn’t easy for those who had not been trained to kill for a living to reconcile the actual act once it happened.

  He pulled out and headed toward downtown Ely.

  “How do you live with it?” she asked.

  “Compartmentalization,” he said. “You have only two choices. You live with it, or you let it define you and you shrivel up and die.”

  “I’m not much into the binary,” she said.

  “Everybody I’ve ever killed had it coming,” Max said. “I can live with that.”

  31

  North Shore, Lake Superior, Minnesota

  Max got his sister to the airport and sent her on her way. An hour after her flight, Martina Lopez flew in from Chicago.

  From Duluth, the two of them drove north past Two Harbors and checked into a nice resort with the sound of Lake Superior lapping against rocks outside their balcony.

  Max and Martina had barely gotten into their condo unit before they tore their clothes off and made fast, passionate love.

  Now, wearing only shorts and T-shirts, a glass of red wine in each of their hands, they stood out on the deck watching the sun set on Lake Superior.

  “I can’t believe this is a lake,” Martina said. “It’s very beautiful.”

  “Not too long ago I did a case in Marquette, Michigan across the lake about two hundred and fifty miles away. This lake is a beast.”

  “It’s chilly, though.”

  “They say it’s hard to swim in it even this time of year. The wind has to be right or you’ll freeze your ass off.”

  She pulled him closer to her, collecting his heat. “You did a good job up north,” Martina said. “Those men hurt a lot of people over the years.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll ever know the full extent of the pain they caused.”

  “It was a strange co-dependency,” she said. “The rapes were bad enough, but then they all conspired to kill their high school victim. One couldn’t tell or they would all go down. Then it kept on getting worse over the years.”

  “I knew Cranston would be a talker,” Max said. “It took everything within me to not put a bullet in his head.”

  She squeezed on his waist. “You did the right thing. That man literally knows where the bodies are buried. He’ll keep the FBI going for years.”

  Max knew this instinctively, but he still felt like the man needed to fry. And with the information he was giving the FBI, that would never happen. The guy was smart enough to give information like a leaky faucet. Drip, drip, drip.

  “Where do you go from here?” she asked him.

  “I don’t know. I keep getting interview requests from national media. But I’m not ready to give up my anonymity. I like being a private citizen. I just want people to leave me alone.”

  She glanced up at him. “Even me?”

  “Except for you.”

  They kissed intimately and then continued to watch the sun set and listen to the waves gently lap against the rocks below.