by Brandt Legg
Barbeau and Hall were just arriving at the J. Edgar Hoover Building when they got word of an intercepted call. They now had two important leads – Sean Stadler and Pennsylvania. Barbeau ordered a manpower shift and notified the Canadians. “Looks like your brilliant Dr. Gaines has made a major mistake,” Barbeau said.
“We don’t have him yet.”
“What is your problem, Hall? Do you want him to get away?”
“Of course not, but we’re missing something.”
“That’s why it’s called an investigation, and we’re the Federal Bureau of Investigation because we investigate, and we’ll find what we’re missing soon enough; but first, it’s nice to apprehend the damn suspects so they don’t do more bad things that we have to investigate.”
A secretary escorted them to the office of the Director, who introduced them to his boss, Attorney General Dover. Barbeau briefed the country’s top two law enforcement officials on the latest developments. The Pittsburgh field office would become the new command center.
“This is a huge case,” Dover told him. “Tell the Director if you need anything. And bring them in.”
Immediately after the meeting, Hall and Barbeau flew to Pennsylvania. Barbeau felt optimistic that they would have Gaines soon, but he also knew that each passing hour increased the likelihood that Gaines could slip away and force a protracted search. The memories of the five-year hunt for Eric Rudolph still haunted him.
Chapter 14
Josh lived in a small ranch house at the end of a cul-de-sac; he usually spent only six to eight days a month there, depending on assignments. The FBI was spread thin on this case and had asked for help from the Virginia State Police, but the trooper assigned to watch Josh’s house still hadn’t shown up.
Josh arrived home around seven p.m., exhausted, left his camera bag on the hall table, and headed to the kitchen where a west-facing window caught the evening sun, washing the room in glaring light.
A smiling man, sitting at the kitchen table, startled him. Instinctively, he turned to escape and ran into Leary’s solid frame. “What is this?” Josh demanded.
Leary pushed him roughly toward the table.
“Please, Mr. Stadler,” Nanski said. “We just have a few questions.”
Josh grabbed a chair and swung it at Leary, who let out a grunt as it connected with his upper arm. Nanski grabbed Josh while Leary pulled his 9mm Ruger and in one swift motion pressed it to Josh’s head. “Want to meet Jesus?” Leary whispered so softly Josh wasn’t sure he heard it.
“Mr. Stadler, this isn’t necessary. We’re only here to talk,” Nanski said. “Now, are you going to cooperate?”
Other than those simple arrests during war protests, he’d never been this close to a gun. These guys might kill me. “Who are you? What do you want?” Josh asked in a trembling voice, still not realizing they had anything to do with the globe.
“We just want to ask you a few questions.” Nanski repeated.
“Show me some identification, then.”
Leary smiled and moved the gun to Josh’s face.
“I think my colleague has just shown you our ID,” Nanski said. “Now, please tell us about the casing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Josh stammered, “I want to talk to an attorney.”
“Josh, we know you stole the casing from federal land and took it to the lab in Bethesda. We know you’re helping the fugitives, Professor Gaines, and Gale Asher,” Nanski said, taking out a stiletto knife that opened with a loud click.
Josh wondered if they were with the government, how else could they know this much. “I have nothing to say, I know my rights. Take me in.”
Leary laughed.
“Listen, Stadler,” Nanski’s voice now tense. “We’re not taking you anywhere. You’re going to tell us all we need to know right now.”
Leary smashed the barrel of the pistol across Josh’s face, hard, knocking him to the floor.
They pulled Josh to his feet, then slammed him back in the chair. “You have no rights!” Nanski sneered from gritted teeth.
Josh’s cheek burned as he felt the warm blood run down.
“Josh, we already have Sean; we picked him up early this afternoon. But he wasn’t with the professor, and Ms. Asher anymore. They are the ones we really want,” Nanski said, as he carefully dabbed away the blood, acting concerned.
“What have you done with Sean?” he screamed at Nanski, unable to see his features backlit from the window. These bastards can’t be with the government.
“Your brother is not in a condition to do much talking right now,” Nanski said. “Don’t worry you’ll see him. But first, tell us everything you know about the casing and what was inside of it.”
“If you’ve hurt my brother . . . ”
“Tell us about the casing,” Nanski said, pressing the point of the stiletto against the cut in Josh’s cheek, moving slowly up toward his eye. ”Have you talked to anyone other than Sweedler at the lab? Who else have you told about the artifacts that Gaines found in the mountains?”
“No one.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“We have ways of confirming that,” Nanski said, smiling. “Where is your camera?”
“In the hall,” he answered and started to stand up, but Nanski pressed the blade deeper into his cheek, stopping him. He nodded to Leary, who moved toward the hall.
“Where is the other half of the casing?” Nanski asked, still smiling.
While Leary was gone, Josh’s mind raced. He jerked his head away from the knife and kicked wildly, striking Nanski in the groin. The blow stunned Nanski; he dropped the stiletto and grabbed his crotch. Josh bolted into the living room. Leary grabbed him from behind just as he reached the sliding door leading to the backyard. Josh tried to elbow him, but Leary was quicker than he looked and threw his massive arm around Josh’s neck. They fell to the carpet. Josh kicked and clawed as they wrestled.
“Move and you’re dead!” Nanski shouted, one hand protecting his privates, the other pointing a .44 magnum at Josh.
Leary got to his feet, wiped his face – a small bloody scratch – tucked in his shirt, then kicked Josh in the back. Nanski held his gun steady, a few feet away, never taking his eyes off the two men.
“Talk!” Nanski barked.
Josh could barely get the words out, “I’ve told you, I don’t know anything about the casing. They asked me to take it to the lab and I did. That’s it. I don’t know where they are.”
Nanski looked at Leary, he nodded and went back to the kitchen.
“That’s not good enough. We’re going to have to know for sure,” Nanski said. “Now, get on that couch. You can take a special chemical that will prove if you’re lying.”
“Forget it,” Josh argued.
“Then my colleague is going to have to beat it out of you,” Nanski growled.
Leary returned with a small vial of liquid. “It doesn’t even taste bad, but we’ll know if you’re telling us the truth,” Nanski said, smiling. “The magic of sodium-pentothal.” He handed it to Josh. “Drink.”
“No.”
Leary slapped his wounded cheek.
“Then, we’ll do it the hard way,” Nanski said, nodding to Leary.
“Wait!” Josh, a gentle soul, deciding he didn’t know enough to hurt Gale and Rip, drank the potion. For twenty minutes they questioned him aggressively until Josh’s heart stopped. Of course, it hadn’t been truth serum; they didn’t want him to tell the truth, they wanted him silent forever.
Chapter 15
Larsen had been to Josh’s on plenty of occasions, but a major accident near Culpeper made him late this time. A tractor-trailer had swerved to avoid a steel girder in the middle of the road, slid off the pavement, taking two other cars with it, and overturned. Another few feet, another half-second, and Larsen might have been seriously injured. Instead, he pulled over ready to help. Before his call to 911 went through, he s
aw two county sheriff’s cars pull over on the westbound lanes. He headed east again, somewhat shaken, but now unknowingly without his FBI trail. They’d been caught behind the crash.
Larsen banged on the front door of Josh’s house.
“Something’s wrong with Josh,” Nanski said as he opened the door and waved him inside.
Larsen ran, unthinking, into the house, “Is he hurt?”
“Down there,” Nanski pointed.
Larsen entered the living room and saw Josh slumped over on the couch. Leary stood nearby pointing a gun at Larsen. “The Lord is having a long talk with your friend.” He paused, smirking, “it’s for the best, he sinned a lot.” Leary bowed his head slightly.
Without hesitating, Larsen launched himself into Leary’s midsection. They tumbled against the wall. Larsen smashed his massive right fist into Leary’s face, cracking his nose, which spewed blood. He struck again before Nanski pulled him off, but Larsen kept the momentum going, pushing Nanski backward, pinning him against the couch.
Leary wailed, his face covered in blood. Clearing an eye, he scanned the room for his pistol. Larsen spun on Nanski, pulled him over and shoved him into an end table. A heavy book fell off; Larsen scooped it up and sent it sailing into Leary’s head just as he reached for the gun. Nanski raised up and Larsen connected a heavy kick to his chest before fleeing the room.
He got through the front door and inside his car before Leary stumbled out of the house waving his Ruger. Larsen held down the car horn and floored the accelerator in reverse. Nanski pulled Leary back inside as Larsen squealed up the street.
The two men quickly, but expertly, put the house back together and left with Josh’s camera case. It wouldn’t be long before they would be able to catch up with Larsen again. Nanski drove Leary to the hospital and phoned Pisano from the waiting room. Josh was no longer a threat and Larsen would not get away again, he reported.
Larsen headed south on Interstate 95 and pulled off at the first rest stop; the salty taste of tears on his lips. He jerked the car into an end space, opened his door and rolled onto the pavement; he crouched there crying. His hands and legs ached. Oh God, what did they do to poor, sweet Josh? Who were they? They weren’t with the FBI; did the government really have a secret police force that didn’t care about the Constitution? Or maybe someone else was involved? Questions shot through his mind. Had Rip made it to Canada? Would he be safe there? Larsen pulled himself together, got back in his car, and continued to search for answers as he drove farther south and deeper into the night.
Rip looked at his watch. Before fleeing the camp, Larsen and he had made a hasty plan to check in with each other once a day through an old girlfriend of Larsen’s. He found a gas station on the edge of Asheville, thankfully one with a working payphone. Rip expected just to leave a message, but the girl told him Larsen had called an hour earlier. She gave Rip the phone number of a motel room.
Larsen answered on the first ring.
“Are you okay?” Rip hardly recognized his strained voice.
“No, not at all.” Larsen sat on the floor between two double beds.
“What is it?”
“They’ve killed Josh.”
Rip’s knees buckled. He braced himself against the wall.
“Did you hear me? Josh is dead. They killed him!”
“What do you mean? Why? Who? Who killed him? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, I saw his body! They tried to kill me too!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Rip interrupted, “Where are you? When did this happen?” He looked back at Sean sitting in the car . . . the impossible task of telling him his brother was dead made him sick.
“After the feds allowed me to leave camp, I got hold of Josh and we agreed to meet at his house in Fredericksburg. Oh my God, it’s my fault.”
“No,” Rip said.
“No, it’s your fault. You have no idea. The FBI is all over this, these two thugs knew my name and Josh’s,” Larsen’s voice grew higher, “and they tried to kill me. What the hell is that thing we found?” he yelled.
Rip could hear the terror in Larsen’s voice, but he couldn’t grasp what his friend was saying. “Larsen, where are you now?”
“I’m on 95 south heading home. I don’t know what to do.”
“Listen to me; you need to get to Booker. This is way out of control. We made a monumental find but I can’t believe someone is willing to kill for it. How do they even know about it? Were they monitoring the dig for some reason? There has to be something more going on.”
“Believe it. These guys will kill you. Turn yourself in to the FBI. End this, before someone else gets hurt.”
“It’s wrong; something is very wrong.” Rip didn’t know what else to say, his hands were trembling, his throat dry.
“Wrong? Is that the best you’ve got? You stole an artifact and someone is dead!”
“Larsen, I know. Get to Booker.”
“You can stop this, Rip. You’re right about something being wrong. You broke the law, breached professional protocol, and acted unethically. If you – ”
“Do they kill people for those kinds of things? No, Larsen. You know this isn’t a normal find. This is beyond the rules.”
“Josh is dead because of you!”
“I know! I never should have asked him to take the casing. But I am not turning myself in until we know more about the Eysen. Damn it, Larsen, you know we just dug them out of the ground – how do they know already? Why do they want them so badly? All this proves is that I did the right thing by running.”
“Tell that to Josh.”
“I’m sorry about Josh.”
“What would you have said if I were dead right now?”
“You’re not.”
“Those killers are after me.”
“That’s why you need to call Booker. He’ll protect you.” Rip gave him Booker’s private number. “Tell him everything. But we need to get off, it’s not safe to be on the phone any longer. The government is always listening.”
“Screw Booker, I need to call the cops!”
“You can’t.”
“Why, Rip? Why are we suddenly criminals? It’s just a damn artifact. I don’t care how old it is!”
“It’s not just an artifact,” Rip said trying to control his voice. “It’s something far more important. Something beyond rare, something never really seen before.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the truth.”
“What does that even mean? I need to know what you know. You can’t ask me to go through all this –and more- without knowing everything.”
“Please, I can’t do this on the phone. You know me. That has to be enough for now until I see you again, until I can show you.” Larsen didn’t say anything for so long that Rip thought he’d lost the connection. “Hello?”
“I’ll call Booker.” Larsen said, defeated. “Josh didn’t deserve to die over this.” His voice cracked.
“We need time. Gale and I will make it to Canada by morning.” Rip felt bad lying to his best friend, but for now everyone had to think Canada was his destination. “You get to Booker, he’ll protect you, and I’ll be back in touch when I can.” Rip hung up but stood at the phone for several minutes trying to calm down. He couldn’t stop shaking. He didn’t want to tell Sean.
Cash and a fake name got them into a room with two double beds at a dive motel in a forgotten mountain town well off the Parkway. They ordered sushi from a nearby take-out place, and searched the TV news channels for any sign of themselves or the Virginia dig. The absolute absence of coverage relieved them, but at the same time left Rip uneasy.
He mostly fidgeted with his food, but let the others finish eating before breaking the news.
“Sean. I’m not sure how to say this, but I just found out that Josh has been killed.”
“What?” Sean choked.
Gale looked disbelievingly at Rip.
“My friend
Larsen found his body – ”
“What? Wait. No. I don’t believe my brother is dead,” Sean cried. “Why would anyone kill Josh?”
“I don’t know why exactly, but the same men tried to kill Larsen.”
“Was your friend with him? What happened?”
“I didn’t get details. The men were looking for us.”
“He’s not dead. How do we know?” Sean said through blurry eyes. “I have to go to him.” For thirty minutes Rip pleaded with Sean not to go. In the end, he could not be swayed. “I have to go.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Gale cautioned. “Whoever killed Josh could kill you too.”
“Maybe, but don’t you see?” Sean wiped tears and looked at her. “Josh would come for me.”
Gale knew that was true. Josh adored his brother. Sean had already put himself in jeopardy to help them this long. It might be best for him to get out now. Rip returned Sean’s cell phone.
“Don’t use your phone unless you want the feds to find you. And remember, they’ll likely be watching your place. Here’s a phone number to someone who can get a message to us.” Rip handed him a scrap of paper with Booker’s number.
“Don’t worry, if I’m caught, I’ll say you were heading to Canada.”
The FBI found Josh’s body at about the same time Sean got onto Interstate 81. With no sign of foul play – the place looked immaculate – the county medical examiner initially attributed the likely cause of death to heart failure. He noted it seemed unusual for someone so young, with no history of heart disease, to die that way – but God works in mysterious ways.
Chapter 16
Rip took the bed closest to the door. He’d braced a chair under the knob minutes after Sean’s departure. Gale turned off the lights and they lay there silently. Josh’s death had changed things. It contaminated the air, leaving it heavy, painful, and dangerous.
