by Val Welch
Helen rolled her eyes. “Damn, not that little pipsqueak.”
Gabe laughed. “Now Helen, he’s not a bad kid. Please don’t torture him too bad.”
“Well, I won’t be making his coffee, that’s for damn sure.” She stood and hugged him. “And another thing, if you’re not back here in six weeks, I’m out of here too.”
Gabe awkwardly patted her on the back. “Nobody is out of here, I’ll be back. Please just hang in there. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, pulling off her glasses and wiping her eyes.
Gabe slowly moved across the room until he found himself standing in the exact spot where Helen had held him in her lap after he was shot. “I’ll be around. Have Marsh call me if he has any questions.” He waved, made good his escape and quickly climbed into his personal SUV. He backed out of the parking lot, and found himself making all the turns he’d sworn he wouldn’t.
The hospital parking lot was over half empty. He pulled into a space, and looked up at the second floor. He knew exactly what window she was behind. He could feel her from where he sat trying to talk himself out of going up there. He left the SUV and walked across the parking lot, hating himself for what he was about to do to his friend Carson.
Doc looked like he had aged at least a decade. He was sitting at the desk to the left of the nurses’ station writing when Gabe stopped in front of him. He glanced up and shook his head. “She’s sleeping.”
“How is she?”
“She’s going to be okay. Carson was just here visiting and I think it wore her out.”
“I’m sorry, Doc, about everything. If I had arrested them, none of this would have happened. I just want you to know how bad I feel about it.”
Doc stood and led him to a window across the hallway from the nurses’ station. He saw Shelby peacefully sleeping. Her delicate face framed by the mass of dark hair on her pillow. “Is she still sedated?”
“I’m gradually cutting back the sedatives and she seems to be tolerating it.”
“How long do you think it will take her to recover?”
“She has several weeks of physical therapy in front of her. She’s damn lucky she didn’t lose parts of both feet,” Doc said, glancing at Gabe’s sling. “I guess you were both lucky. How is the shoulder feeling?”
“All right. I’m starting physical therapy tomorrow.”
“That’s good. I hear you’re taking some time off and I think it’s a good idea. Just do me a favor. Stay away from Shelby.”
Gabe understood it, but it still hurt. “What’s the problem, Doc?”
Doc put his hand on his good shoulder. “I’m sorry, Gabe. Believe it or not, I’ve been exactly where you’re standing. But, she has a life with Carson and I won’t let you screw it up.”
Gabe looked through the window at her. “Doc, I admit I made a bad decision and she’s the one paying for it. Hell, even I know Carson’s the better man for her. But, I just can’t walk away until she tells me to walk away.”
Doc threw up his hands and moved back to the desk. “Damn you, Gabe.”
Gabe took one last look at her and left the hospital.
Forty-One
Carson walked into the meeting room at the Pine Ridge City Hall complex. Morgan and SAC Reynolds were already seated at a long table strewn with laptops, empty coffee cups and stacks of files.
Morgan looked up from his open laptop when Carson entered the room. “How is she today?”
Carson grinned as he crossed the room with a bag of burgers and fries. “She’s awake and talking. Doc actually let me in the room with her.”
Morgan smiled. “That’s great news. How did she sound?”
“Good. She’s still a little groggy and Doc says she may have some short-term memory loss, but I think she’s definitely turned the corner.”
SAC Reynolds smiled up at him. “That’s wonderful, Special Agent Billings, you must be relieved.”
Carson started distributing lunch. “Yeah, I am. It’s like this huge weight has been lifted. She’ll need physical therapy for a few weeks, but she’s going to make a full recovery.” He sat down and looked across the table at them. “I’m ready to get back to work. Something tells me there have been developments with the investigation.”
Morgan laughed as he unwrapped a burger. “How can you tell?”
Carson looked around. “Well, the empty room was a big tip off. Where is everyone?”
SAC Reynolds looked at Morgan. “We sent them all out to lunch. There are a few aspects of the investigation we wanted to discuss with you privately.”
Carson nodded as he munched on a french fry. “All right, catch me up.”
SAC Reynolds looked at her notes and started the discussion. “We’ve gone over your field report of the rescue operation and wanted to touch on a few points as well as get you up to speed on the rest of the case. The first issue is the leak of operational information to EFA from the command center at Doc Ryan’s home.”
Carson nodded. “Yeah, Russ, the one that helped Shelby escape, told us that Dante had received a phone call warning him we were almost there and that Shelby was alive on Cibecue Peak. I assumed you pulled the call information from the EFA satellite phone I turned in.”
“Unfortunately, there wasn’t any useful information in the phone. All calls to and from it were to untraceable prepaid cell phones. All we know is the time of the last incoming call prior to your use of the phone.”
Carson took a big bite of his burger and thoughtfully chewed before replying. “Who was at Doc’s house at the time of the last incoming call and was privy to the rescue status?”
Morgan slid a printout across the table. “Here’s a list of six names. We feel one may be the leak. Take a look and see if anyone jumps out at you.”
SAC Reynolds pointed to the list. “As you can see, they are all either forest service or Pine Ridge Police Department personnel.”
Carson glanced at the list. “Obviously it has to be a local, someone who has already developed ties with the group. I’ll start running queries on these six names. I’m assuming they’re all under surveillance?”
SAC Reynolds nodded.
“Any leads on the whereabouts of Nick and Eden Malone or the missiles?”
“We haven’t located them. We do, however, have concrete evidence that the missiles exist so we expect homeland security to take the lead in the investigation. Actually, there is a discussion happening as we speak as to whether the national threat level is going to be raised and whether the FAA will step up airport perimeter security.”
Carson leaned over the table. “Really? What’s the evidence?”
“Dante left us a video at the compound showing off his FIM-92A stinger missiles. Homeland security just authenticated it a couple of hours ago.”
“Damn, that’s ugly. Those are heat-seeking, so they could actually shoot down a jetliner.”
She nodded. “Yes, it’s a very viable threat.”
“Any idea how they got them?”
“Nothing definite at this point. However, it’s well known they’re available on the black market.”
Morgan tapped the list of six names. “We think the key to stopping Nick and Eden Malone and finding the missiles is one of these names.”
Carson pointed to the forest service personnel on the list. “Has the dead forest ranger we found been identified?”
Morgan slid another file across the table. “Yes. His name was Jack Simmons. We’re hearing from the suspects’ apprehended at the compound that he stumbled into the EFA camp and Nick Malone shot him.”
Carson added the file to his growing pile. “I’ll add him to the query list too, just in case it’s not as it seems.”
“Okay,” Morgan said. “That’s probably a good idea.” He slid another file across the table. “Here’s a copy of Chief Navarro’s incident report. After you’ve read it, I’d like your input on it. He’s officially on a medical leave of absence until he recovers from his gunshot wound. However, given h
is failure to arrest his cousins, it’s doubtful he’ll be returned to duty. Mayor Timmons would like to talk to you regarding the rescue mission and his handling of it. Give him a call when you have a few minutes.”
“Okay. Anything else interesting turn up at the compound? I didn’t get to stick around very long.”
“It’s all in the case notes. You should probably try to get up to speed with them as soon as possible.” Morgan laughed. “There’s some very interesting reading in the transcripts from Troy Abbott and Joaquin Navarro’s interviews regarding Shelby’s escape.”
Carson frowned. “What’s funny about it?”
“To paraphrase them, she kicked their butts, disarmed them and locked them in the mine before hightailing it out of there.”
Carson laughed. “Why am I not surprised? What’s the outlook for them? They did help us take over the compound.”
“That’s one of the issues I want you to confirm from Chief Navarro’s report,” Morgan said. “Also, I want to talk to Shelby before we decide on a course of action for the two of them, and Russ Mayer, the medic who treated her and helped her escape.”
Carson made a couple of notes and gathered his files together. “Oh, by the way, has there been any word on Walter the tracker? I have his rifle and I owe Moses a really big bone for all his hard work.”
Morgan shook his head. “I have no idea. You should probably check with Pine Ridge PD. I’m sure they got him out okay, though.”
“I’m going to stop by there. One of the deputies lent me his boots and I need to return them.”
Forty-Two
After the hospital, Gabe drove around with no clear destination in mind until he found himself parked in front of Anna and Troy’s modest home. Anna’s car was in the driveway and he saw movement in the living room window.
He stepped out of his truck and walked up the sidewalk. Anna opened the door before he knocked and motioned him inside. “I just made coffee. Want some?”
“Sure,” he said, taking a long look at Anna as he stepped through the doorway. She looked bad and it broke his heart. She’d always been more like an older sister to him than a cousin. And it had been real painful to stand by helplessly and watch as the cancer ravaged her body. But, she was a fighter. She’d fought it off twice before, and he wasn’t counting her out yet.
She smiled and shrugged as her eyes met his. “Yeah, I know. I lost another five pounds this month.”
He shook his head and had no idea what to say.
She closed the door and led the way through the living room to the kitchen.
He took a seat at the breakfast bar and asked, “How did it go?”
She sighed. “All right, I just got back. Thanks again for the money.”
“It’s all right. Was it enough for the retainer?”
“Yes. The attorney is meeting with both of them tomorrow. He said he has a lot to accomplish before the arraignments.”
“How is Rebeca holding up?”
Anna took down two coffee cups from the cabinet. “She’s going to be okay, we have a plan. She’s going to sell her house, and she and the kids are moving in here with me. That way we can use the proceeds from her house to help with the legal fees.”
“What did the attorney say?”
She wiped her already red rimmed eyes as fresh tears formed. “It’s not good. He has no idea what kind of time the government attorneys are going to ask for.”
“Did you see Troy and Joaquin?”
“Yes. They seem to be doing all right, but you know how it is with them. They don’t want to worry me.” She poured the coffee and handed him a cup.
He took a sip and looked up at her. “Anna, I know it looks bleak now, but you have to just hang tight. There are still some things we can do to help them.”
“Like what?”
“Find Nick and Eden Malone.”
“How?”
“We know them better than anyone. If we put our heads together maybe we can come up with some ideas. As soon as they told me Nick Malone was Dante, I knew it was a whole new ballgame.”
“Yes, I thought that too. I can’t get around the whole eco-terrorist thing with them. You saw the way they lived out there at that shack, knee deep in garbage and rusted out cars. They never cared about the environment.”
“I know,” Gabe said. “The only thing Nick Malone is interested in is money, drugs and sex.”
“I agree. I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?”
“Sure.”
“Troy told me that the original EFA members say everything changed when Eden and William came on board and the Hunters were murdered. I think that’s when Nick Malone became Dante and the real Dante was either Paul Hunter or the man who died in front of the logging truck.”
“Hmmm, that makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does, the time frame, the Malone mentality and resulting increase in violence and intimidation, everything fits. I’m convinced that’s the case. So … what do you think Nick Malone’s next move will be?”
“I’ve been giving that quite a bit of thought and I think he’s going to shoot one of the missiles and use that as leverage to get what he really wants—a whole lot of money and passage out of the country for him and Eden.”
“Doesn’t the government have a no-negotiation policy when it comes to terrorism?”
“Yeah, but has it ever really been put to the test, that we know of?”
She shrugged. “I guess we don’t really know if it has or not. Wouldn’t they keep it quiet if they had bought off a terrorist group?”
“Exactly. Let’s say he launches a missile just to let them know he’s willing and able to do the deed. Then he threatens to take it public unless they pay him off. I don’t think they’d have a choice. If the public knew there was a chance their flight could be shot down by a terrorist missile, how many would get on a plane? No one. And that could cripple the entire economy.”
“So, his goal has to be to make a show which only the government knows about. Maybe hit a government installation, but wouldn’t they have the tightest security?”
“Yeah, but what about a lone government jet or helicopter? Maybe on a training mission above the Arizona desert?”
Anna jumped up. “Aunt Stella!”
Gabe nodded. “Bingo.”
Forty-Three
Frank was sitting at his desk in the bullpen area of the station when Carson walked through the door. “Well damn, there’s a sight for sore eyes,” he said, standing and waving him over.
Carson crossed the room and handed him a large shopping bag. “Hi Frank, I brought your boots and gear back and just wanted to say thanks.”
Frank took the bag and glanced inside. “What’s this? You didn’t have to buy me new boots.”
Carson laughed. “Oh yeah I did. I thrashed your boots walking out of the canyon in the snow. I’m happy to buy you a new pair. You loaning me those boots probably saved my life.”
Frank grinned. “Thanks, this is real nice, but you didn’t have to do it. Those were just an old pair of boots I kept around in case of an emergency.”
“Frank, I’m really glad to do it.”
“Frank, for God’s sake, just take the boots,” the woman sitting across the room said, rolling her eyes.
Carson laughed and waved. “Hi, you must be Helen. Gabe told me about you.”
“You must be Pilgrim.” She laughed. “Walter told me about you and Gabe out there on the trail.”
Carson nodded. “Yeah, I’m Pilgrim. I’m glad to hear Walter made it back. I need to get his rifle to him.”
Helen laughed. “Oh yeah, he’s back. He came in this morning to pick up his check. He’s camping out in the field down past Gabe’s house for a couple days. Go on down and see him.”
“How’s Doc’s girl doing?” Frank asked.
“She’s talking and feeling a lot better. I’m going back over to the hospital after I go see my buddies Walter and Moses.”
Helen smiled. “
I’m glad to hear it all worked out for the two of you.”
Carson smiled as he moved toward the door. “Thanks, you guys.”
“Stop in anytime, Pilgrim,” Helen called out laughing as he walked through the door.
Carson smiled all the way to the car. This town was really beginning to feel like home.
When he drove past Doc’s house, on his way to look for Walter, Doc and Lydia were standing in the driveway. They were heavily involved in conversation and didn’t notice him drive by. Something about their manner felt off to him as he watched them in the rearview mirror until he rounded the corner.
He found Walter’s decrepit old truck and horse trailer in a clearing beyond Gabe’s house. Walter was sitting in a bright yellow lawn chair, with the price tag still dangling from it, next to a campfire with the dogs at his feet.
Carson parked, retrieved Walter’s rifle and three boxes of ammo from the trunk and approached the campfire. Walter said something to the dogs, pushed up from the lawn chair and stood waiting, thumbs hitched into the pockets of his reasonably clean Levis. “Well, I’ll be damned, it’s the Pilgrim.”
Carson detected a real smile in Walter’s eyes as he handed him his rifle. “Hey Walter, I’m glad to see you made it back okay. Here’s your rifle, thanks.”
Walter took the rifle and boxes of shells. “Thanks for looking me up, Pilgrim. Have a seat, I’m making some coffee.” He nodded toward a stump near the fire and turned toward the camper.
Carson leaned on the stump and looked at Moses. He was lying peacefully next to the lawn chair dolefully looking up at him. Walter came back from the camper and handed him a chipped enamel cup filled with coffee. “Thanks, Walter. How was your trip out of the canyon?”
Walter eased down into the lawn chair and took a sip from his cup. “Well, I’ll tell you Pilgrim, it wasn’t nothing I ain’t been through before.” He laughed. “I think you and Gabe had a sight more trouble than me and the dogs. I heard all hell break loose up there at the mine after you two went up there.”
