“Thank you.” Dwight Taylor turned back to his team. He spoke into his radio. “All teams, Terry Aldershot is the principal target. The female is the principal.” Deputy Chief Kennedy confirmed the information. Unless something extraordinary happened, Silas realized that he’d likely just condemned Terry Aldershot to death.
The helicopter made a pass over Angel’s Window, circled around to the north, and came back, low and slow. “She’s got a gun to the boy’s head,” Silas heard the agent watching the action say. “The husband doesn’t appear to be armed.”
“He is,” Silas spoke over the sound of the helicopter. “He had a pistol when he was at the mine.”
“All teams, be advised, Balin Aldershot is armed.”
They watched in fascination the trio of prone bodies on Angel’s Window as the dawn’s light seemed to grow from within the night. Walt Kennedy spoke over the radio: “Kennedy to Team One, execute the original plan.”
“What are they doing?” asked Silas.
Nobody answered. Silas watched as a group of men clad in body armor began to move down the walkway from Cape Royal toward the promenade of Angel’s Window. Over the distance Silas heard a megaphone bark, “Mrs. Aldershot, Mr. Aldershot, this is Coconino County Sheriff’s Deputy Percy Evans. I’m here to negotiate. We’d like to talk with you about satisfying any demands you might have and you releasing your hostage. Can we bring you a radio with which we can communicate?” Silas watched a man standing in front of the SWAT team members, his left arm in the air, a two-way radio in his hand.
On the tablet the image of Terry Aldershot stirred. She seemed to be yelling at her husband, but Silas couldn’t hear what she said; the distance was too great.
Balin Aldershot stood up and made his way back along the trail. Silas thought he looked petrified from the way he half walked, half crawled along the narrow promontory. The negotiator advanced, his hands in the air. He carried a throw bag dangling from his right hand. When the two men were twenty feet apart the negotiator gingerly tossed the bag to Aldershot. Balin caught the bag, then dropped to his knees and crawled back along the path. When he got to Terry he handed her the bag. There was a radio in it. The helicopter lifted up another five hundred feet in the air, its rotor noise becoming distant.
Silas heard Deputy Evans’s voice on the radio. “Mrs. Aldershot, can you read me? This is Percy Evans. I’m with the sheriff’s department. Can we bring you any breakfast?”
There was some squelch and then Terry Aldershot’s voice came over loud and clear. “You can get your fucking helicopter and all these cops out of here. Leave a car. I want clear passage back to the airstrip, a plane, and a pilot who will fly us to Mexico.”
“Mrs. Aldershot, we can’t do that right now. We can talk about getting you and your husband out of the country, but you’ve got to meet us halfway. Let Tom go and then we can all leave and you and Mr. Aldershot can have safe passage out of the country.”
“No. Fuck that. The kid is coming with us. We’ll turn him over to the Mexicans. Now back the fuck off or this kid is going to take a swan dive.”
“She’s a piece of work,” Silas heard Taylor say.
“You should see her in a council meeting,” said Silas.
“Let me discuss your demands with my incident commander and we’ll get right back to you.”
“You’ve got ten minutes.”
In two minutes Silas watched as Taylor, Evans, and Kennedy huddled near The Bear discussing the situation.
“What do you think they’re going to do?” Silas said. He and Katie Rain were sitting on a log in the woods, their view of sunrise over the canyon obscured by a few stunted junipers.
“I really can’t say. I’ve never been part of a hostage negotiation before. FBI strategy is usually to defuse the situation and recover the hostage without killing the hostage-taker. The hostage team’s motto is servare vitas.”
“To save lives,” said Silas.
“That’s right, Professor. As long as we get Tommy, we’ll take them down the road, or at the airfield. It’s the transitions where the hostage-taker is usually vulnerable, like when they move from a building to a vehicle or from a car to a plane. They won’t get very far.”
“If they die, I don’t get to find out if they know where my wife is.”
“I know. Taylor’s going to try to keep everybody alive. I know you two don’t like each other much, but Dwight is good at what he does. I think he’ll bring this home.”
Taylor returned to his observation post and Kennedy into the Tactical Operations Unit vehicle. Soon Evans could be heard on the radio. “Alright, Mrs. Aldershot, if you agree to let Tom go, we can provide you with a vehicle and a flight out of the country. My incident commander is making the arrangements right now.”
“You’ll get the kid back, but not until after we’re out of the country!”
“It doesn’t work that way, Mrs. Aldershot. You’ve got to let Tommy go. You walk him back to the parking lot, and we’ll have a vehicle there for you. When you get to the car, you hand Tom over to me. You and Mr. Aldershot can be on your way to the airstrip.”
“No goddamned way! I’ll turn him over at the airstrip.”
“We can’t let you get in the car with him. I’m sorry, Mrs. Aldershot.”
“This is going sideways,” Taylor spoke into his radio. “All teams, ready.”
Silas heard half a dozen voices report in that they were ready. He studied the trio on the tablet.
“Look what she’s doing, Agent Taylor,” said Silas. Terry Aldershot was half standing now, alternatively raising and lowering the pistol to Tommy’s head, as if the gun was heavy.
Taylor said, “I want a better look at that. Air Support One, can you drop in for a closer look?”
“On our way.” In a moment the helicopter had repositioned itself. The vibration felt as if it was shaking the stone on which they all stood.
“Watch the way she is swinging the pistol. Nice neat arc. When she drops it, it looks as if it’s clearly visible from the rim, right about there,” said Silas, pointing.
“Sniper Team Two, this is Taylor. When the primary swings her pistol down, what do you get for a target?”
The team were seasoned members of Coconino–Flagstaff SWAT. “We have the weapon clearly visible.”
“Team Two only, your primary is now the pistol when it’s lowered. Respond when the target is acquired.”
“Target acquired.”
Kennedy broke in. “This is Kennedy. All other teams, you are still on the primary.” Again a round of checkins.
Silas peered across the gulf at the tiny figures on the trail and thought of the boy there. How old was he? Twenty? Twenty-two at the oldest. Did this boy’s parents even know where he was, or what was happening? Somewhere behind him Cailey was being comforted by the FBI crisis counselor. How would Silas feel if this were his son? What would he be willing to do? He knew one thing for certain; his own life wasn’t worth a damn if his children were in harm’s way. He would call Robbie and Jamie as soon as this fiasco was over.
The radio crackled. “Back the fuck off, all of you!” The panic in Terry Aldershot’s voice was clear.
“Air One, it’s time to pull out,” said Taylor.
“Agreed.” Then, over another frequency, “Okay, Mrs. Aldershot, we’re backing off. We’re going to give you lots of space.” Silas could see the negotiator walk back on the trail from Angel’s Window. “I’m going back to the parking lot. You radio me and we can talk all you want.”
“I don’t want to talk! I want out of here.”
“You agree to let Tommy go at the car and you and Mr. Aldershot can drive out of here.”
“Tommy comes with us or he dies right here.”
“Assault Team, get ready,” said Taylor. “She’s losing her grip. Sniper Team Two, target status.”
“Gun’s at the boy’s head, but every time she drops it, I’ve got a clear shot.”
Taylor spoke to Kennedy. “What do you
think, Walt?”
Kennedy didn’t hesitate. “We take her. Assault teams ready on my mark. Team Two, when she drops the pistol next, execute your shot.”
Silas felt the universe slow. He watched over the chasm as the figure of Terry Aldershot slowly dropped the pistol from Tommy’s head to her side, and then she jerked her hand back as if she’d been bitten. Silas saw the pistol fly from her hand as if pulled on a cord, along the red rock and down into the canyon’s depths. He never heard the shot.
“Assault Team go!” said Kennedy.
Four men in black body armor stormed down the narrow pathway onto Angel’s Window, submachine guns extended ahead of them. Terry Aldershot charged back toward them, like a running back rushing into an impenetrable wall of defenders. She crashed into them, the SWAT team tackling her to the ground, two of the officers roughly dropping their knees onto her back and neck in an effort to stop her from thrashing.
“All sniper teams, acquire secondary target.”
But Balin Aldershot wasn’t reaching for his pistol. He was running. Silas looked up in time to see him reach the end of the cape, place both hands on the railing, and vault over the edge. Then he was gone.
“Secondary is over the edge!” came a voice over the radio.
“Watch him!” yelled Taylor.
“He’s down on the rocks.”
“Confirm status?”
“Secondary target is down.”
“The hostage is secure.” Silas looked up to see the second two members of the assault team leading Tommy back along the headland. Behind him, in the parking lot, his girlfriend ran toward the canyon’s edge, and through the trees Silas watched them embrace. Then, as Cailey wept, Tommy dropped onto one knee, dug something from his pocket, and proposed to her there, half a dozen black armor–clad SWAT and FBI agents as witnesses. The applause was audible over the sound of the helicopter above and the wind picking up as the sun crested the eastern horizon and rose bright into the day.
Silas nodded to Dwight Taylor, who was clapping, smiled at Katie Rain, walked solemnly back to the parking lot, sat down in the passenger seat of Ranger Gwyther’s patrol vehicle, and fell asleep.
SILAS STAYED AT THE GRAND Canyon Lodge on the North Rim for two nights. His vehicle was impounded as the FBI and the Coconino County Sheriff’s Office searched it for evidence. It would take a few days for the small garage at the North Rim to get the parts needed to repair his hood, fender, and grille after that.
He and Katie Rain had lunch together after he had slept a few hours. They sat on the terrace of the lodge, overlooking the canyon, eating sandwiches and drinking bottled soda.
“If I’d had to face the rest of my life with Terry Aldershot, I would have jumped too,” said Silas. Rain punched him in the arm. “What’s next for her?”
“She’ll be charged with unlawful imprisonment at the least, and maybe kidnapping given that they removed that boy from his tent. We’ll start putting together evidence and determine if we can charge her with Jane Vaughn’s murder.”
“And what’s happened with Slim Jim?”
“He’s still out there. We have two teams in the canyon, being led by backcountry rangers. We’ve got a helicopter from the Department of Public Safety, one from the FBI, and a Park Service unit all overhead. We’ve shut down rafting operations until this guy is found. We’ll find him when he gets hungry and thirsty. There isn’t much water except for Nankoweap Creek itself, and we’ve got a team positioned there.”
“He could lay low down there and die and you’d never find him. Or maybe you could just watch for the turkey vultures. Why did the three of them go to the North Rim? Why not make a break for Page, or Kanab? It’s a dead end.”
“The Jeep that we found at Nankoweap trailhead has a police scanner in it.”
“That’s Hayduke … Josh Charleston’s rig.”
“Why does he have a police scanner?”
“You’ve met him. Do you really need more of an explanation?”
“I guess not. He is a little loopy.”
“Is that a professional opinion, Dr. Rain?”
“No, Dr. Pearson, it’s just a gut feeling. Besides, I’ll have to wait until he’s been dead and all that’s left is bones for me to have a professional opinion.”
Silas smiled. “Have you gotten any word on how he’s doing?”
“Taylor got an agent to take a statement from him in Kanab this morning. He’s fine. Scorpion bite is going to be sore, but they administered the antidote. The bullet wound to his leg was in-and-out. It clipped the femur. He got pretty lucky, actually. No serious infection. Half an inch and he might have bled out. Instead he’ll be on crutches for a few weeks, and then fine. Might need a cane for a few months.”
“I could lend him mine.” Silas recalled his time with a cane the previous summer.
“Oh, with all the fuss, I forgot to tell you. We found Kiel Pearce’s truck. You’ll never guess where.”
“I’m too tired to guess, Katie.”
“In the Colorado River. The water level dropped. I guess it’s all controlled upstream by the dam, and when the flow went down to just five thousand cubic feet per second, the truck’s roof emerged from under the water, just downstream from Lee’s Ferry. The sheriff’s department pulled it out yesterday. We’ve got Unger and Huston going over it.”
“Have they found anything?”
“Nothing of consequence. It’s clean. It looks like whoever killed Kiel drove it or pushed it into the river when the water level was up around eight or nine thousand CFS hoping that it would get washed farther downstream.”
Silas sat in silence considering this. It seemed like the Colorado had more than its share of vehicles consigned to it in the last few weeks.
They watched clouds, their underbellies dark and charged with electricity, scud across the horizon. The shadows they cast on the reds and oranges of the canyon walls seemed to trail behind them as if on string.
“It’s a pretty big place.”
“Tell me about it.” Silas was thinking about his maps again. “And Paul Love and Chas Hinkley?”
Rain nodded and finished a bite of her sandwich. “Ortiz picked them up this morning. Love was in rough shape. His hand was broken. He refused to let the expedition call for a medical evacuation. We’ve arrested them both and will be investigating them on fraud and conspiracy charges, as well as the stunt they pulled holding you and Josh Charleston at gunpoint.”
“Jane Vaughn found out what Terry and Balin Aldershot and Jim Zahn were up to with the Patriot One Mine.” Silas was looking out over the canyon again. “She went there to see for herself if the mine was really operational before the moratorium on uranium mining on the North Rim. She must have figured out—like I did—that it wasn’t. When she confronted the Aldershots or Zahn, they killed her. My money is on Zahn for that. He likely sent her out to the mine to meet with him saying he’d prove to her she was wrong. She was wrong, not about the mine, but to trust him. Balin likely called on Ted to pick up a load and dump it at the Atlas Mill site, where it would just blend in. Ted didn’t know what he was really carrying.”
“And then you found Jane.”
“And then Penny found Jane.”
Rain joined Silas in looking out over the gulf. “What about Kiel Pearce?”
“Well, he and Jane were friends, there’s no doubt about that, but I just can’t seem to connect him to this business with Balin or Terry or Jim.”
“Neither can we, not yet.”
“Maybe he did something to threaten Paul Love’s business. He was an employee of an oar-powered rafting company. Maybe somehow he got in Love’s face?”
“There’s no evidence to suggest that Love or Chas Hinkley had anything to do with his death.”
“What about the connection to Darcy McFarland?”
“Our profiler thinks Kiel and Darcy are related because of the more recent timing of the killing, the chloroform, and the method of disposal. Both bodies were recovered in hard-
to-reach locations. McFarland was at Potash and Pearce in Paria Canyon. Our profiler believes that both of them knew their attacker.”
“You could say that about everything down here. Everything is hard to reach. So Kiel joins Darcy as open unsolved.”
“For now. We have some more work to do.”
“But it’s not your work, is it?”
“No, Silas, I’m on a charter flight in two hours back to Flag, and then up to Salt Lake. I’m not supposed to be running around in the field like this.”
“Why are you?”
Rain hesitated.
“It’s because of me, right?”
“Taylor doesn’t know what to make of you. He wants me to stay close.”
“What about you? Do you know what to make of me?”
“Yes. I do. You’re a man who is haunted by dreams of his wife and who will stop at nothing to find her.”
“You sound like you’re writing the tagline for a bad movie or some cheap mystery novel.”
Rain shrugged. She finished her soda. “Silas, I’ve got to go.”
“Come for a walk sometime?”
“If they ever let me out of the lab again, I will.”
Silas stood up and offered Rain a hand. She took it and stood. “Katie, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing me.”
“Oh, I believe you alright. And I trust you. We’ll find Penelope. And we’ll figure out what happened to McFarland and Pearce. It’s just not going to happen overnight.”
“It’s what else happens overnight that scares me,” Silas said.
SILAS WAS GIVEN his backpack by the district ranger after it was cleared as having no evidence relevant to the case. He charged up his cell phone and found that he had three messages. The first was from Hayduke.
“Hey there, Doc, they’re letting me out of this fucking hospital tomorrow. I’m flying up to Seattle. My folks are there and I’m going to hang tight for a few weeks, get a few free meals out of the deal, and get rested up and resupply. But I’ll be back, sometime. Got to get my Jeep, my gun, and then help you find Pen—I mean Penelope. Don’t worry about finding me. I’ll find you!”
The next message was from Robbie. “Hey Dad, it’s Robbie here. I just wanted to call you and see if maybe you wanted me to come down sometime this spring, or later in the year. I’ve been thinking that I should do more to help you. Give me a call. Jamie says hi. Love you, Dad.”
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