Devil's Brigade (Trackdown Book 3)

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Devil's Brigade (Trackdown Book 3) Page 23

by Michael A. Black


  After Franker and McNamara shook hands, the four of them stood in a moment of awkward silence.

  “I was a tad confused, Mr. Wolf,” Franker said finally. “Your call was unexpected and I’m not accustomed to being told to come alone.”

  “Hey, call me Steve, okay.” Wolf swallowed, trying to figure the best way to handle this request.

  “Okay, Steve,” Franker said. “What exactly do you want?”

  Wolf glanced at McNamara, who nodded.

  “Look,” Wolf said. “I know we’ve been less than cooperative regarding your investigation of the Mexico thing.”

  Franker smiled. “You have a talent for understatement.”

  “Yeah,” Wolf said. “And I’m willing to talk more about that. To help you with that investigation but something else has come up that’s way more important.”

  “Oh?” Franker raised both eyebrows. The rest of his face showed an amused expression. He clearly felt he had the upper hand.

  “Some of your fellow agents were here a little while ago,” Wolf said.

  Franker nodded. “I know.”

  Wolf figured as much. It would be a given that the bank robbery detail would want to gather as much info on the family of any persons of interest before interviewing them.

  “My ex-husband is a suspect in an armored car robbery,” Kasey said.

  “I know that too, Ms. Riley,” Franker said.

  He was playing it cool, not offering anything in the way of information.

  “The other agents mentioned they had evidence that linked him to the crime,” Wolf said. “We gave them all the information we had, including two phone numbers, but they wouldn’t tell us anything more.”

  “That’s standard Bureau procedure,” Franker said, giving his head a little toss. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about—”

  “They got my grandson,” McNamara said.

  Franker stared at him. “Your grandson? There’s an Amber Alert for missing and possibly endangered for the boy.”

  “He’s been kidnapped,” Wolf said.

  “What?” Franker said. “How do you know this? From what I heard, it sounded more like a custody dispute.”

  Wolf mentally noted that the various teams of FBI agents had obviously been comparing notes on him, Mac, and now Kasey.

  “We received a ransom call,” Wolf said.

  “A ransom call?” Franker’s brow furrowed. “For how much?”

  Wolf shook his head.

  The fed frowned. “I came here in good faith because you said you had something to discuss for our mutual benefit. This cooperation you’re seeking can’t be a one-way street.”

  Wolf glanced at McNamara, who was standing there shaking his head.

  “It wasn’t for money,” Wolf said. “Let’s just say, I’ve got something he wants.”

  “He?” The FBI man heaved a theatrical sigh. “Do you have any idea who made this call?”

  “Yeah. Jack Cummins. You remember him?”

  Franker thought for a moment, then nodded. “He was the one we saw leaving here the night of the shooting incident. Phoenix PD stopped him and found a gun in the van he was driving.”

  “Right,” Wolf said. “He was one of the guy that set me up in Iraq. For killing those Iraqi nationals. He was in MI.”

  “MI?” Franker said.

  “Military Intelligence.” Wolf was feeling frantic and didn’t know how to explain things. He blew out a breath. “Look, you’ll have to take my word for this. He’s involved in this whole thing somehow. He’s with Charles Riley, Kasey’s ex, and they’ve got her son.”

  Franker’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not following this. You’re saying that the boy’s biological father is holding him for ransom?”

  “We’re not sure how it all fits together at this point but like I said, Cummins called here with a ransom demand. He’s got to be with Riley, who’s wanted in connection with that robbery/murder. There’s another guy named Smith who’s part of it, too.”

  “Roger D. Smith,” Franker said. “A known associate of your ex-husband, ma’am.”

  Wolf felt slightly encouraged that Franker had offered some information.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’ve leveled with you. What else can you tell us?”

  Franker said nothing.

  “Look, we got to find them,” McNamara said. “You guys have the telemetry to trace those cell phones, don’t you? Can’t you at least give us something as to where they might be?”

  Franker was still silent, staring at the floor.

  “Please,” Kasey said. Her tone was imploring.

  “You said you owed me,” Wolf said, his tone edging on desperation. “For that night of the shooting. For saving your life.”

  The FBI man compressed his lips, almost as if he were biting the inside of them. He took in a deep breath.

  “Smith and your ex-husband are purported members of a militia group,” Franker said. “They call themselves The Freedom Brigade. They’ve been on the Bureau’s radar for some time. They’re led by a disgraced army officer named Timothy Herald Best. He was drummed out of the service five years ago for smuggling and black-market issues overseas. He was a captain at the time and dropped out of sight. He’s since resurfaced and started the Freedom Brigade. Promoted himself to colonel.”

  “I know the type,” McNamara said. “One of those officers that wasn’t worth a shit.”

  Franker nodded in agreement.

  “As I mentioned,” he continued. “He’s been on our watch list for a while. He’s set up an informal camp in an old abandoned army base down state. Calls it Base Freedom.”

  “What old army base?” McNamara asked. “I don’t remember one down there.”

  “And you probably wouldn’t,” Franker said. “It’s been closed for decades. Once was called Fort Lemand.”

  McNamara nodded his head slightly. “Now that rings a bell but it’s a little one.”

  “So you think Riley might be down there?” Wolf asked.

  Franker did a minute shrug, seemed to be reticent about saying more, and then relented.

  “Ms. Riley,” he said. “I can tell you that your ex-husband was definitely involved in that armored car robbery and murder. We found a discarded bandage at the initial crime scene and the DNA matched your ex. Then, at a secondary scene, we found a cell phone that was traced back to you.”

  “To me?” Kasey said.

  Franker nodded.

  “You purchased it, according to the store records, and it showed that you also called the number from here.”

  “Oh my God,” Kasey said, her face scrunching up. “It’s got to be the phone I gave to Chad. For him to call me every night.”

  Tears began to stream from her eyes.

  “And you think Riley’s down at this Base Freedom place now?” Wolf asked.

  “We’re not sure,” Franker said. “We do know that in addition to finding the cell phone at the secondary crime scene, a construction site security camera recorded a U-Haul truck violating the posted speed limit in a construction work zone near this second crime scene. The truck was rented in Desolation City, near to where this Base Freedom is. And it was rented by Louis J. Keller, who is also a known militia member.”

  “That’s got to be it,” Wolf said. “Cummins is somehow involved in the militia, too.”

  “Cummins posted bond for himself and Roger D. Smith,” Franker said. “Apparently, they met in the county lockup.”

  “Well, my grandson’s probably being held at that place,” McNamara said. “Where’s it at exactly?”

  Franker held up his open palms in a calming gesture.

  “Mr. McNamara, you don’t want to go down there, believe me.”

  “The hell I don’t.”

  “Sir, let the Bureau handle things. The best thing to do, at this point, is to remain here. I’ll get a team in here to monitor your phone lines and we’ll wait for them to contact you.”

  “You expect me to sit on my hands wh
en my grandson’s life’s at stake?”

  Franker compressed his lips again as if he was holding something back.

  Wolf sensed this and said, “What is it you’re not telling us?”

  It took Franker a few seconds of hesitation and consideration before he replied.

  “Look,” he said. “As I mentioned, the Bureau’s been watching this group for a while, waiting for a chance to move in. Connecting them to this robbery/murder was all that we needed. A team of agents and SWAT are already in the process of hitting them with a search warrant.”

  “Do they know my grandson’s in there?”

  “I’ll make that notification immediately, sir,” Franker said and took out his cell phone. “And I will have to run these new developments by my supervisor.”

  Wolf, McNamara, and Kasey all exchanged looks.

  Things had gone from bad to worse in one hell of a hurry.

  Fort Lemand

  Southern Arizona

  Cummins watched as Riley towed his kid to the front of the auditorium against the steady flow of the thirty or so militia men who were filtering back toward the exits. The kid didn’t look too happy and kept getting jostled by those passing. Finally, Riley stooped and picked him up to avoid any further problems. Cherrie and Smith were ahead of him as well and Cherrie was whispering something to him. She looked about as thrilled as the kid did. Getting the boy alone might turn out to be more of a problem than anticipated. But then again, if the five of them were able to escape the compound via that secret tunnel, the opportunity could present itself more readily. The key would be in persuading Wolf to give him the bandito in exchange for information as to where the kid was being held. It seemed doable.

  They stopped at the front of the auditorium where Best still stood on the elevated platform looking down at them. Being close to the edge of the podium, they all had to look up at him. Keller and two armed guards stood off to one side.

  “These two guards will escort the woman and the boy to quarters,” Best said. “Where they will be confined immediately, for their own safety.”

  “Let’s go,” one of the guards said.

  “Not so fast,” Riley said. “I want to take my boy there myself.”

  “You’ll do as you’re ordered,” Keller said.

  “Daddy,” Chad said. “I don’t want to go nowhere. I want to stay with you.”

  “Easy, Chad,” Riley said, still holding the boy.

  “I suggest you get your son under control, Private Riley,” Keller said. “We’re pressed for time.”

  “Time?” Riley said. “It ain’t gonna take no time at all for me to walk him over there, is it?”

  “Nevertheless,” Best said. “I need to talk to the three of you privately. Ms. Engel, if you would you take charge of the child, these men will escort you to your quarters.”

  Cherrie looked at Smith, who appeared almost livid. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, then turned to Riley.

  “I’ll take good care of him,” she said and gently removed the boy from his father’s arms. “Hey, Chad, let’s you and me go back to the room and play a game, okay?”

  Tears streamed down the kid’s face and he said, “No. I don’t want to.”

  “Hush, boy” Riley said. “And do what you’re told. Don’t you be giving Cherrie no hard time, neither. I’ll be there in a bit.”

  This seemed to quiet the boy, at least temporarily. As they walked away with the two guards following, Cummins noticed that Best had walked over to the three steps to descend from the podium. When he got closer, Cummins could smell the crisp and pungent body odor the man was radiating. It smelled like tension mixed with fear. His eyes darted toward Keller momentarily and then Best spoke in a low tone.

  “Have any of you talked to the any of the other men about the procurement mission?”

  Procurement mission?

  Cummins almost had to laugh at the euphemism. It was more accurately a robbery and murder mission. But instead of offering his opinion, he dutifully said, “No, sir.”

  Best looked in turn at Riley and Smith.

  Riley shook his head and Smith replied that he hadn’t.

  Best’s severe expression didn’t alter.

  “So, you’ve told no one about the amount of money you brought here?”

  Once again, Cummins replied in obedient and respectful military fashion.

  Smith and Riley did likewise.

  Best studied each of them as if trying to gauge their veracity. Then he nodded,

  “You three are not to report to the armory to draw weapons,” he said.

  Smith recoiled slightly.

  “Huh? Why not?”

  Keller stepped forward and leaned close to Smith, their faces only an inch or so apart.

  “You will use proper military protocol when addressing the colonel,” he said.

  Smith didn’t move but Cummins saw Smith’s hands clench into fists.

  If the shit hits the fan too soon, Cummins thought, this thing could be a disaster.

  Plus, even though he’d seen Smith in action taking on numerous foes, he wasn’t so sure he could take out Keller that easily. Plus, Keller had the big Desert Eagle on his hip.

  “Stand down,” Best said. “Both of you. We have a common enemy to prepare for and that takes precedence.”

  Keller stayed where he was for a good five seconds, eyeball to eyeball with Smith, who wasn’t flinching either, and then Keller took a step back.

  “You will accompany us to the vault,” Best said. “We will need to remove the boxes containing the recently recovered proceeds as well as anything else of significance. Said items with be transferred to the bunker for safekeeping.”

  Cummins thought he saw a trace of a smile appear at the edge of Smith’s mouth. This was both good, and bad but it offered a way out. And he was sure Riley wasn’t going to leave without taking his kid.

  “Begging your pardon, sir,” Cummins said, coming to attention.

  He knew he didn’t look much like a squared-away troop but he hoped his affected impersonation would be enough to get him a little leeway.

  “What is it?” Best asked.

  “My medical condition, sir,” Cummins said. “I request permission for a quick personal relief, sir.”

  Best’s lips pursed as if he were disgusted at the thought but he nodded and said, “Go ahead. Privates Riley and Smith, I grant you fifteen minutes to see your people and instruct them to remain sequestered until you come for them.”

  Both Smith and Riley replied with a thank you and a salute. Cummins whipped his arm up there as well to be inclusive but his mind was racing.

  How in the hell could he make all this play out to his advantage?

  Best returned their salutes.

  Smith and Riley did an about-face and headed for the exit. Cummins split off from them toward the rear door and the latrine.

  “Don’t take too long in there, fat boy,” Keller said as he passed. “Or I’ll come looking to see if you fell out.”

  Cummins bristled internally but dared not say anything. As soon as he was in the hall, he broke into a run toward the latrine. Not only did he have to puke but it was imperative that he contact Fallotti and Wolf. He had to get the ball rolling in both cases and set up his endgame strategy.

  It was going to take some doing but what other choice did he have?

  The Summerlin Hotel

  Phoenix, Arizona

  Soraces had just finished his conversation with an agitated Fallotti. The lawyer had received another call from that errant employee, Jack Cummins, who was claiming to be close to obtaining the bandito. When Soraces had inquired as to how credible this claim might be, the lawyer had answered with an irritated, “How the fuck should I know?”

  It was then discussed that Soraces was to maintain a close surveillance on Wolf in hopes of seeing him make a move with the statue.

  “Not a problem,” Soraces said. “I’ve got my best man on him as we speak.”

  A
nd he did, too, in a way. Gunther was the best but, at this point, he was also the only man Soraces had hired. He intended to bring the other wet work guys in later, padding the payroll a bit, after they’d obtained the item. Everything would then be nicely tied up, including the money that had already been placed in Wolf’s bank account—funds that he was certain Von Dien would somehow withdraw from the transfer as soon as the bandito transaction was complete. But then again, maybe not. A hundred grand to someone as rich as Von Dien was only pocket change. But Soraces was certain that the rich man would then want the loose ends of Wolf and company being tied up in a neat little bow. That might require more than just Gunther if Wolf’s prowess hadn’t been exaggerated.

  But right now, Soraces thought, I need an update.

  He pressed the button for Gunther’s cell.

  The big man answered on the second ring.

  “I was just fixing to call you,” he said.

  “Give me a sit-rep,” Soraces said.

  “Well, the visitor in the navy-blue sedan I told you about must be a fed. After I called you, I changed up my position and used these range-finder binocks to zero in on his plate. U.S. Government tags. Looked to be a Bureau boy, if I read him correctly.”

  That fits, Soraces thought. They were investigating the first two cluster fucks in Mexico and the one here with the South Africans.

  “So about fifteen minutes ago, the fed left,” Gunther continued. “Then Wolf, McNamara, and his daughter came out carrying a couple of duffle bags of stuff, loaded them into the Escalade, and took off. And guess—”

  “Where are they now?” Soraces said. “You’re still with them, aren’t you?”

  “Like white on rice,” Gunther said. “Ain’t that what you said?”

  Soraces laughed. Gunther always did have a flair for the metaphorical. It brought a little levity into these missions.

  “Looks like they’re heading for the interstate south,” Gunther said.

  The three of them heading south?

  “Shit,” Soraces said. “Okay, keep on them. I’ll get in my car and catch up to you. We’ll tail them in tandem.”

  “Sounds good,” Gunther said. “But you didn’t let me finish before.”

 

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