North of the Rock

by Ian Jones

  ‘I swear to God, I really do. Can that fucking guy do anything right?’ Barlow breathed down the phone.

  ‘Yeah, I hear you. But I guess we’ll just do it the hard way.’

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Right then, I’ll make the call, organise it now.’

  ‘Do that. But make sure Cane fully understands that this has to go away, this guy needs to understand not to make any more calls and just get the hell out.’

  ‘I’ll tell him. Do you want me to call Hunter myself too?’

  ‘No, let Cane do his job. He can make amends. He’s supposed to looking after these things, making sure the work gets done. It’s like we’re forever cleaning up.’

  ‘Yeah I know. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, see you in the morning.’

  Abel killed the call and dialled another number.

  John drove back to the motel, but diverted off the east–west road to go through to the south side, to see what he remembered. The street that had the shops and restaurants was still there, but now with a few boarded-up fronts. The bar he remembered called Pinto was open, as was the restaurant on the corner. But it was quiet, not many people about. He parked up in the street and got out the car. This had been a vibrant, busy place, with the bar, a couple of restaurants and some shops. Now there was a large pawnbroker right next to the bar, and not a lot else.

  What had happened here?

  He walked from one end of the street to the other. Off to the south were two roads that led into the residential area, which was a happy hotchpotch mixture of houses and streets. He walked down one, but everywhere was quiet. He could see the lights on in most of the houses but there was nobody around. He turned and walked up and then followed the road out to the town hall and looked back. In the dark it really looked like two completely separate towns, but close together. The south side sloping gently away and the north climbing up.

  It didn’t make any sense at all.

  Wearily he walked back to the car and climbed in, then drove past the rock and turned, crossing the road and parking up at the motel again. He got out and breathed in deeply, it was still warm. He locked the car and as he walked across the car park a man walked out of the office and moved quickly across to stand in front of him.

  John stopped and looked at him closely. Probably a few years younger, pumped up, spent a lot of time in the gym. He was wearing a polo shirt, some kind of vague colour impossible to make out at night. The man was standing with his hands on his hips. Now he had John’s attention he moved over and leant heavily against the wall on his left side, legs sticking out at an angle.

  ‘Evening,’ John said casually.

  The man didn’t answer, instead he put his hand in his pocket and drew out a quarter, and then flicked it up in the air. It spun lazily over and over and then fell to the dusty ground between the two men with a soft clink.

  ‘Heads or tails?’ the man asked.

  ‘What do I win?’ John countered.

  ‘Well asshole, that’s real simple. If it’s heads, then I just let you go on up to your room and get all your shit, and you can get the fuck out of here and don’t look back. But if it’s tails …’

  ‘Please, go on.’

  The man put his hand in his pocket again and this time produced a flick knife. He popped the button and the blade sprung out, glinting in the dark.

  ‘If it’s tails, then I guess we’ll be calling a doctor.’

  John nodded, and took a step forward. The man didn’t move. Then John leaned down as if looking at the coin and then swept his right leg around, hard and fast. It connected with the man’s ankles and he crashed down heavily onto the ground. John jumped in and rabbit punched him hard, right in the centre of the face, busting his nose and sending his head banging heavily against the wall behind him. The hand holding the knife was down to the right and John stamped down hard on it several times, grinding his heel down. The man cried out in agony and stared up, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong. John punched him again, right in the mouth, and picked up the knife and forced it against the wall, snapping the blade off, then stood back and collected the coin, and looked down at the man. He was a mess; his face and top half of his shirt were already soaked in blood. He was cradling his wrecked right hand and had tears of pain welling up in his eyes. John checked his pockets; no wallet, a few crumpled notes, which he took.

  ‘I’m not going to ask who sent you, I’m going to guess I’ll be finding out soon enough.’ John told him and looked at the coin.

  ‘It was a tails. Lucky me.’

  John grabbed the man’s hair and banged his head solidly off the wall behind, then set off across the front of the motel. He walked up the stairs and went into his room. He checked the time, just before ten. He carefully positioned the curtain so there was a gap and then cleaned his teeth and then laid down on the bed fully dressed. He reckoned he should be able to get a couple of hours rest before he had another visit.

  Chapter Five

  In the end the arrest eleven years before had been almost ridiculously simple. The Department liaised with the FBI, and it was ascertained that Collis was at home in Gray Rock, in fact he never appeared to leave there. What was the next step? There were several back and forth discussions and then John was invited over to make the arrest, in appearance as a courtesy but the reality was different. He would hand Collis straight over to the FBI, but by doing it this way it would mean that they would not appear to be directly responsible for his capture. The Department agreed, and so a couple of days later John walked out of El Paso airport.

  The town has an FBI office, and he was collected and taken straight there. Everyone seemed genuinely pleased to meet him. The case officer in charge was a wide man called Duncan Fairhead, who had massive shoulders, a red face and a shiny bald head. He also had a knack for always saying the wrong thing and John liked him immediately. Fairhead had flown in not long ago himself, he was based in Virginia.

  They sat down around the table in a small conference room and discussed the plan, Fairhead had it pretty much worked out.

  ‘Ok then, so we keep this simple. We give you a car, and you get yourself down to Gray Rock, it’s a long drive and I’m sorry about that. There’s a motel in the town. Me and my team will also get down there, but we are gonna hole up in another motel about thirty or so miles away, out near the army base. We ain’t gonna alert the sheriffs, we are not sure about them at all. The nearest police department is in a town called Carline, but it’s the best part of seventy miles away and the road is not great, so we are gonna use the state police. We will make sure they collect you from the motel at nine in the morning. Sound good so far?

  John nodded.

  ‘Good, well, we will be mobile before then, but keeping a low profile. You go with the state cops and make the arrest, and we come straight in behind you. We search his place; we should find what we need but we got enough to hold him while we do it.’

  John nodded again. Simple, but effective.

  ‘Right, now, I got some stuff for you.’

  He handed over a mobile phone with a car charger and a Glock 17 in a holster.

  ‘We checked you out, we know you can handle a gun but it is only there to protect yourself ok? We don’t believe he will come out shooting but I can’t risk it. For all we know he could have an RPG in the house. Listen, please, I really don’t want to have to try and explain why you shot somebody. That’s more paperwork than you could ever imagine.’

  ‘I get it, no problem.’

  ‘That’s good. Now we planned on it all going down tomorrow, but I couldn’t get a search team in time, they don’t have one here, it’s no problem San Antonio are sending theirs. They will stay with us at the motel. So it will be the day after, I got no choice in this, is that ok with you?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s fine.’

  ‘Great. I have had people watching him for the past couple of weeks. He’s a loner, doesn’t really leave the house much.’

  �
�I thought he worked in an internet café?’

  ‘It’s part time, or so we think. He’s in and out of there occasionally but fact is, he doesn’t really do anything. Most days he just stays at home. Buys groceries sometimes, but that’s it. Never goes to a bar. There’s a roadhouse outside town that’s supposed to be good, there’s been a couple of bands on but he’s not interested in that either. My guys say he’s got a bunch of computers set up, and he seems happy to sit in front of them all day.’

  John thought back to meeting Collis. Both he and Neil had decided he was an oddball, a bit of a fuck-up they had said. He hoped it wasn’t worse than that.

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘We checked out his finances, he’s got some put away, his parents died and left quite a chunk of money, split with his brother. He ain’t rich but seems to have enough to live, there’s some kind of complex trust fund he gets a regular transfer in from.’

  ‘That could easily be a cover up, it’s a good way to hide money.’

  ‘Well, yeah, and it probably is. We’ve tried, it’s held at First Texas Bank, they tell us it’s managed by some attorneys down in Austin, so we spoke to them and all they will say is it’s a family trust, non-resident, and not US citizens. So we could spend a year and not get any further forward.’

  Fairhead looked at him.

  ‘Listen John, the thing that bothers me is that we have got no real idea what we are dealing with. We got all your intel and there seems to be nothing missing there, but he could have anything inside the house. I know, I know I am going on about this but maybe it’s ringed by hand grenades or Claymores, I know it ain’t likely but I would prefer to get you on the plane home in one piece. So, no heroics. I need your word on that.’

  John smiled.

  ‘You got it.’

  ‘And one final thing. When you go in the house, try and get him outside, at the least make sure he stays in one room, and try to do the same yourself if you can. I know how these things go down sometimes, but I need to do a proper search and I don’t want any confusion on the forensics. The team always do a great job, but we got a lot to try and find and sometimes this can all go to hell once it gets in the court.’

  ‘I understand, don’t worry.’

  ‘Thank God. Now there’s a lot more up here than there is in Gray Rock, do you want me to get you a hotel room?

  John considered.

  ‘No thanks Duncan, I think I’ll get down to Gray Rock so I can see it for myself, check it out a bit. Can’t hurt.’

  ‘Ok, if that’s what you want. Leave the cell on, I will be in touch.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Give me five minutes, I’ll get you a car.’

  It was a recent Ford Crown Victoria, dark blue with ‘I am a government vehicle’ stamped all over it. But it didn’t matter. It had a full tank so he borrowed a map and set off.

  Fairhead had been right, it was a long drive, but eventually after coasting the top of a steep incline there was an even steeper downhill, and there was Gray Rock. The town was over to his right as he entered, mostly scattered behind a big grey rock, which explained the name, but he found the motel straight away after passing a petrol station and pulled in. He got a room right above the office, and then walked out to look around the town. He ate in a small restaurant which was on the corner at the rock end, looking out at the town hall and the sheriff’s office next door, and then walked around for a while until he got too tired and went to bed.

  Next day he had a good breakfast in the diner which was just a short distance down the road from the motel, and then decided he would go and have a look at Collis’s house for himself. He would have to be careful, he didn’t want to bump into him just in case Collis remembered who he was. He called Fairhead and advised him what he was doing, so whoever was watching the house could be alerted. He checked the address and asked his waitress if she knew the road, which she did and gave him clear instructions with a big smile. He walked across the town, Collis lived in a small development which was to the west and north of the rock. He followed the east–west road to the turning which didn’t take very long, it was basically two roads which led off the one heading west out of the town. All the houses were identical, wide but shallow single-storey with small porches, and scrub grass front gardens, well spaced out so they weren’t all on top of one another. There were about thirty houses in all. Both roads were cul-de-sacs, so only one way in and back out again. He was glad he had walked; his borrowed car might have looked suspicious. Collis’s house was at the top of the northern road, facing south. There was no sign of activity, and the garage in place to the left was closed. Behind the house was scrubland, with scattered rocks and berms heading up the slope leading to the steep rise behind. He back tracked, and then found he could easily get into the land behind, so followed the line back around the houses. Just a simple wire fence separated them. He was careful not to walk too close to Collis’s house, just in case he was looking out the back window, but again, there was no sign of anyone at all.

  In fact, every house appeared empty, he wondered if everybody was at work, but where the hell would that be? Gray Rock was literally in the middle of nowhere, pretty much in the wilderness. He stood very still and looked all around him. Away up the hill he could see a couple of pick-up trucks, and a group of men measuring and knocking in poles into the ground, tape between them. Some kind of building project soon to start he guessed.

  There was nothing more to look at, and he knew that the longer he stayed around in the area the more noticeable he would become so he turned and walked back the way he had entered to the east–west road, and headed south past the rock. He took another walk around the town, had a coffee in a cafe and learned a bit about its history. It had been around since 1868 originally, when some French settlers who were mining precious stones had decided their fortunes lay under the rock. It hadn’t proved correct, so they had moved on a year or two after, naming the place Derriere. Some time passed and then some ranchers moved in, renaming the town Gray Rock after one of the men, a schoolteacher, had explained what derriere meant. It was originally right on the Mexican border before everything got settled to how it is today, and for a while was a busy trading post to the south. Then, in 1930, oil was discovered in the area, and the place went crazy. Then it went bust, and then boom again throughout the seventies and eighties, before bust again. And since then, the town had been pretty much limping along as best it could.

  Fairhead checked in during the afternoon and told him everything was still set for the morning, expect the state police at nine.

  As the day moved into evening he walked out to the roadhouse, which was a couple of miles outside town to the west. He followed the road that led past where Collis lived. He ate some barbecue chicken and drank a few beers. There was a raucous crowd, a loud band with an old guy playing the steel guitar on the stage and John enjoyed it, the place was busy and everyone was having a good time. He didn’t stay too late and set off back to the motel around ten.

  Next morning he was showered, out the room and in the diner for eight, and had yet another good breakfast, looking out the windows up the street for the state cops. They arrived early in two cars, so John paid the bill and walked up to meet them. There were three men in total, the lead was an older cop called Milner, who had big grey mutton chop sideburns and with him two quiet younger men. Milner was in the first car on his own, and was friendly enough. John offered them coffee in the diner, but Milner wanted to get into position so John climbed in the car with him and they set off. John called Fairhead and was told that they were all grouped on the eastern edge of Gray Rock and waiting.

  They drove across town and moved off the east–west road onto the development where Collis lived. John told Milner what he had seen the day before. Under Milner’s directions the second car with the two young cops pulled in right after the turning and Milner stopped just in front. He got out the car and walked back to speak to the two men behind, who started walking over the scrub towa
rd the rear of the houses. Milner got back into the car.

  ‘Right, so they are going to cover the rear. Me and you will walk right up to the front door. Nice and easy, if he decides to run he’s got nowhere to go, all agreed?’

  ‘Yes, perfect,’ John said, and then they continued up the slope to park right in front of Collis’s house. It looked the same as the day before, the curtains were open, but there was no sign of anyone inside.

  ‘Ok, so I will have to read the Miranda, I guess you got some other script,’ Milner said, half smiling.

  ‘Actually, I’m not a cop, so no I don’t,’ John told him.

  ‘Yeah, I forgot that. It don’t matter, it’s your arrest, we have the Fifth Amendment and I got to stick to the rules. This is a new one to us and we were a bit unclear how it worked, so I’m just gonna do what I’m told.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘And I don’t know where you got that Glock, but I can guess. I’d appreciate it if you can keep it holstered, at least unless it all goes wrong and we got no other choice.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that. Don’t worry.’

  The two men climbed out the car and walked up to the house. John recalled what Fairhead had said to him about Claymores and hand grenades so checked the front yard carefully. No trip wires, and nowhere to hide a Claymore anyway. Any hand grenades would have to be thrown from inside, in the unlikely event there was any. John had been through this many times before anyway and knew the drill. Milner indicated for John to stand behind him and knocked loudly on the door with his left hand, his right on the fat HK45 which was in the holster on his belt.

  John stepped back so he could watch the windows, but nobody looked out.

  Instead there was a rattle and the door opened, and Collis was standing there looking out at them. He was dressed almost in a make-believe paramilitary uniform, a camouflage t-shirt, jungle pattern trousers and a pseudo-German army jacket. With slippers on his feet. He looked bemused to see them, and then surprised when he spotted John. It was clear he was trying to place him.