Eye for an Eye

by Allen Kent

  “This early in the morning, that’ll put him in a perfect place for the Mississippi guys to get him,” Grace said, looking back up the lot. “I wonder if that’s where they shot his brother?”

  As if on cue, the Talismen eased out of the Fusion and slipped down the row of cars toward the park.

  “Here they come,” I warned. “Down until they pass.” We dropped into the space below the dash, faces pressed side-by-side above the center console. The gear lever pressed hard against one ear and I felt Grace’s jaw tense against the other cheek as we heard the men pass behind us. When they were two cars beyond our position, I quietly whispered, “Let’s go.”

  We twisted across the seats and silently lifted the door handles, slipping from the car. I laid my elbows across the top of the Jeep, weapon and flashlight extended. Grace did the same across the cartop beside her. In the dark shadows of the lot, we could dimly see handguns with suppressors dangling from the men’s hands.

  I snapped on my light. “Stop where you are,” I called in a loud whisper, hoping Sayegh was far enough down the path to be out of earshot. “We have weapons trained on both of you.” The men halted, circled by a halo of light. They hesitated for a tense moment, then gradually lifted their arms away from their sides.

  “Put the weapons on the ground,” I ordered. “Very slowly. You have us both nervous enough to shoot if you so much as flinch.”

  The Talismen slowly turned in unison and squinted into the lights but didn’t lower their weapons. “Is that the damn sheriff?” Jason Anzar said. “Are you the dumbest sonofabitch in the world, or do you think you’re some kind of hero?” He was also keeping his voice low enough to avoid alerting the Syrian.

  “Put the weapons down,” I repeated. “I’m no hero, but some people do think I’m a stupid S-O-B. And that should worry you.”

  “You didn’t believe the guy who told you to stay out of our way?” he called across from the middle of the lot in a loud whisper. “You’re gonna be in deep shit if you try to mess with us tonight.”

  “Nobody called me, and I warned you to stay out of my county. You’re both carrying illegal weapons and I promise you, the local prosecutor and judge here aren’t going to care if the Commander-in-Chief sent you if we have a little shootout here.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s with you, Sheriff,” he said, his voice reflecting a sneer I couldn’t see. “Or did you bring that cute little state trooper?”

  Grace hissed at him over her car, touching on her own light. “He brought me, and I’m not the cute little trooper. Another stupid S-O-B, and I’ve got a bead on your friend there.”

  “Ah! But another woman cop. Do you think you could shoot one of us, darlin’?”

  “Oh, yes,” Grace snapped, her tone leaving no doubt. “Maybe both of you if Tate doesn’t get you first.”

  One of the men snickered. “Well, Tate. I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. We’re walking back to our car and we’re going to have someone give you a call that will let you know you just screwed the pooch.”

  “Wrong,” I called. “You’re staying where you are and putting down the weapons. On the count of three, if I don’t see them on the ground, I’m going to shoot you in the knee, Anzar.”

  “And I’m going to shoot the knee out of your friend there,” a voice said from behind them. It was Bobby Lule. “One,” I said, loudly enough for Anzar, but hoping Sayegh was far enough down the creek to be out of earshot. The Talismen exchanged an angry glance, then bent slowly and placed their weapons on the drive.

  “Kick them away,” I ordered. They both toed the guns a yard in front of them. “Cuff them,” I called to Bobby. He emerged from the deep shadows between cars off to the left of our beams.

  “I’ll need your cuffs, Grace,” he said, moving behind Brawn and snapping his set on the man’s wrists. “On your knees,” he ordered as Grace moved from her position.

  “What a bunch of pricks,” Anzar snarled as she circled wide of him, Glock trained on his chest. She handed Bobby her cuffs.

  “My squad car’s behind The Oaks,” he said, handing her the keys. “Why don’t you bring it around so we have a secure rear seat.”

  Anzar glared into my light. “This is a case where my one phone call is going to change your life.” He spit the words at me across the black pavement.

  “Don’t bet on it,” I assured him. “And you’ll get your call. I just can’t promise you when.”

  25

  Since the old bank building was constructed before there was any concern about employees having natural light, the rooms we use as cells weren’t given windows that would breach the heavily reinforced block walls. Perfect for a jail, but bare and cold as a storm shelter.

  It had been a slow week across the county for misbehavior. The judge let Ernie Bonebrake off with a fine and a stiff admonition. We’d had no drug arrests and no family squabbles that needed a night’s separation. So we were able to tuck each of the Talismen into his own private suite, complete with stainless steel toilet and narrow cot. We did have better mattresses than the standard, run-of-the-mill jail, but only because they’d been donated when our one furniture store went out of business seven years ago.

  I pulled a chair up outside Anzar’s bars and glanced at the wall clock at the end of the hall. It was approaching 4:00 a.m.

  “I want my call,” he snapped from his perch on the bunk.

  “In the morning—when the phone exchange opens up,” I said lightly.

  He looked at me suspiciously. “You’re shitting me. Give me my cell phone.”

  “I’ve got to keep it as evidence. We need to know who you gentlemen have been calling.”

  “Why don’t you call that top number and find out?”

  “Maybe later.”

  We stared at each other until he began to fidget. “So what are you sitting there for?” he growled through the bars.

  “I need you to tell me some things that might make the rest of our night easier.”

  “I’m not telling you nothing ‘til I get my call.”

  “You’re not getting a call until we talk.”

  “The hell I’m not. I know my rights.”

  “I’m sure you do. Officer Lule read them to you. But I think we can work something out if you’ll give me a little help.”

  He glared at me without speaking. I took that as a willingness to listen.

  “We’ve been checking on you guys since your first visit to our county and we found the nazar with Farid Sayegh’s body,” I began.

  “What the hell’s a nazar?” he snapped.

  “The amulet. The evil eye. The talisman.”

  The fleeting narrowing of his eyes told me he was surprised we’d pieced so much together. It passed quickly and I had to be impressed with the guy’s composure.

  “Like the one we found in your pocket when we checked you in here tonight.” I held up the amulet and turned it slowly in my fingers. He watched without expression.

  “Not the kind of thing most people carry around with them. And I know from our friends at the Bureau that there have been three or four other killings where the bodies had a nazar on them. All foreigners. All people who crept into the country to settle some kind of feud with someone our country is protecting.” I leaned far enough to look into the next cell. Tyler Brawn sat grimly on his own mattress, listening intently to my story. “Are you with me, so far?” I asked. Neither so much as blinked.

  “So here’s what I’ve worked out in my own head about what’s going on,” I continued. “We know both you men were with the 155th in Syria and now are connected to a group that calls itself the Talismen.” I held the nazar over in front of Brawn and waved it to get his attention. “I’m guessing that name has something to do with these. You see, I spent my own tour of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan with the Corps. I know what these are.” This time, when I leaned over to look at Brawn, I could see wheels turning behind that stoic mask. “I also know that when you’re working with friendlies ther
e, you can get pretty attached to those who are putting their lives on the line with you every day—and pretty pissed off if people around them are selling them out.”

  Anzar had been slouched back against the wall, but now leaned forward. His expression didn’t change, but I read the movement as an indication he was paying closer attention. It was time to try to learn who their calls might be going to.

  “Here’s the problem I’m having,” I confided. “You see, I was a Marine interpreter, working every day with the best intelligence that was coming into our squad. I know enough about how intel works in the war zones to be pretty certain no one in your battalion knew when people like the Sayeghs—the family that was informing on the friendlies you were working with—were headed out of the country. They also wouldn’t know when they entered Canada using a visa from some Caribbean island, or who their probable target was here. That information had to be coming from someone, or maybe I should say from some place, with pretty sophisticated intelligence gathering capability and lots of connections.”

  I leaned again around to look at Brawn whose mouth had screwed into a tight frown. “Funny thing is,” I added, “we have an agent from the Bureau’s counterterrorism unit here working with us, and even he doesn’t know how this is being done.”

  I rocked my chair onto its back legs and folded my arms loosely. “That agent doesn’t know we’ve picked you up. He’s out there keeping an eye on our local man, who Sayegh came here to kill. But I’ll bet he could start asking questions that would raise one hell of a stink if he knew we caught you two walking toward the park with silenced weapons.” With enough pause for them to think about the possibility, I added, “That’s why I was suggesting we might be able to work something out with a little help from the two of you before I have to bring him in on this.”

  I stood and stretched. “My partners in the office are waiting to call him if I give them the nod. I’m going in to talk to them for a few minutes. Why don’t you two talk it over and see if you feel like you want to work out a deal here on the local level or turn this into a national issue. When I come back, we’ll see if we need to call Special Agent Rosario in to join the conversation.”

  From the fishbowl I could see Jason Anzar pressed against the bars of his cell, whispering to Brawn. Grace was propped in her corner where she couldn’t be seen from the jail hallway. Bobby sat on the folding chair with a view of the front of the cells.

  “Make any progress?” Grace asked.

  I dropped into my desk chair and propped my boots up on the cluttered top. “Hard to say. It depends on how badly they want to keep their little operation out of the public eye.”

  “And whether they believe you’ll help them do that,” she added.

  “Yeah. That too.”

  “Will you?” Lule asked.

  “That depends on what kind of cooperation we can get from them.”

  He grunted. “Rosario’s going to be pretty pissed if he knows we had them, then let them loose.”

  “He as much as told me to keep an eye on these guys and leave him out of it.”

  I rose again as Anzar gave me a head jerk to indicate they were ready to talk. I returned to the chair in front of his cell, swung it around, and straddled it, propping my arms across the bowed back. I tried to look in at him with as little expectation as they had shown. The first move needed to be theirs.

  “You were a Marine?” Anzar asked.

  “Yup. Fifteenth Expeditionary Unit. Ground Control Element.”

  “And did time in Iraq and Afghanistan?”

  “Mainly Iraq. Some in Afghanistan providing interpreting assistance for the Army’s Third Infantry.”

  “So I’d guess you got kind of close to some of the friendlies.”

  “Pretty close. Yup.”

  “And didn’t see anything wrong with hitting those who were selling out or trying to kill your friends.”

  “That’s why we were there,” I agreed.

  Anzar pursed his lips and stared at me through the bars for a moment, then asked, “And what if the same thing was happening here? Some of the bad guys were after friendlies we’d brought into this country?”

  I shrugged over the back of the chair. “That’s what I do. I try to protect my friends from people who want to do them harm.”

  Anzar gave a quick upward jerk of his head. “But it’s not okay with you when we’re trying to do the same thing.”

  “It’s not okay when you’re in my area, and I don’t know what the hell you’re up to.”

  “You pretty well outlined it as it is,” he confessed. “We’re here after the bad guy. We don’t like him coming after people who were trying to keep us alive when we were working with them. Simple as that.”

  “Not as simple,” I objected. “First of all, no one checked with me. And second, when you kill someone in this country, unless it’s self-defense, it’s murder, even if the guy’s a no-good sonofabitch. And hunting him down isn’t exactly self-defense. Someone shoots a drug dealer in my county, I have to treat it like every other killing. I leave it to the courts to work out all the ‘who deserved what’ kind of stuff.”

  “Even if you know the guy’s a snitch and a killer?”

  “That’s not my job to decide.”

  Anzar sniffed. “It was when you were a Marine.”

  “I’m not a Marine now, and this isn’t Anbar Province or Idlib. And I don’t know who you’re working for. I can’t have people running around the county taking care of all the little injustices they think exist out there in the world.”

  “I think you know by now that we’re supported by people pretty high up.”

  “That doesn’t mean squat to me. If your plan is to shoot someone—like you did this guy’s brother—you could be sent here by God himself and if you don’t check in here with me, you’re just a couple of vigilantes.”

  Anzar slouched back again on the cot, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Okay. So we’re here checking in. And you’ve got a man out there who’s going to kill one of your precious citizens. What are you going to do about it?”

  I straightened on the chair. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do about it. Nothing for now.” I glanced again at the wall clock. “We’re going to be leaving you here for three or four hours. When we get back, if all goes as planned, Sayegh will still be alive and will be headed out of town. You tell me a couple of things—just to help me get this all figured out—and I’ll let you go then. He’ll be all yours. Once he gets out of the county, where he isn’t my problem, you can do whatever you want with him. We won’t say a word. As far as we‘ll be concerned, you were never here.”

  “We won’t tell you who we’re working with. Non-negotiable.”

  “I don’t really care about that, though I am curious. Mainly I want to know two things. How did you get Farid Sayegh buried in the dam, and what were you going to do with Qasim?”

  “We tell you that and we’re out of here? No other questions?”

  “You’re out of here in three or four hours.”

  “Your man will be dead by then.”

  “That’ll be my problem. But when you find Sayegh, I want it to be well outside of this county. We’ve had enough assassins from Idlib coming our way.”

  “We can stop him before he gets your man . . . .”

  “And what will that do? Just bring another of them over here who might slip through your little net. This all needs to end tonight.”

  “Tell him,” Brawn called through the cell wall. “Let him worry about his guy here. We can still get the man they sent us after.”

  Anzar stared at me intently for a long moment. “How do we know you’re going to do what you say?”

  I raised my hands off the chair back. “I saw what you guys can do with a phone call. Why would I want that kind of trouble? I’d just as soon you disappeared and left us alone here.”

  He nodded grimly. “Okay. It wasn’t hard to get the guy into the dam. We had someone check out the are
a for new excavation sites, and that one looked perfect. We just carried him around the end of that fence, dug out a trench with shovels, and covered him up. The construction crews added another layer the next morning. Who’d have guessed someone would blow the thing up?”

  “Yeah, who’d of guessed?” I chuckled. “And no one heard you digging down there?”

  It was their turn to chuckle. “We could have used a dozer and that guy wouldn’t have heard us. He had some movie playing so loud we could hear it just like we were in that little shack with him.”

  “And Qasim? What were you going to do with him?”

  Anzar smirked through the bars. “You got another project where the county road district is widening one of the roads west of here. Moving a lot of fill. We’d be doing the same thing, right about now.”

  I pushed back off the chair. “Well, we’ve got some work to do. You two sit tight, and we’ll be back when it’s taken care of. I’ve got Lule staying to keep an eye on you. Don’t give him a bad time or the deal’s off.”

  “If you don’t want a bad time, get us out of here like you said,” Anzar growled.

  I nodded to Grace who rose and headed toward the outer door.

  “You boys behave and you’ll be able to grab some breakfast at LeeAnn’s on the way out of town,” I called over my shoulder.

  26

  We left Bobby Lule with explicit instructions that the two men were not to be allowed to make a call, couldn’t leave their cells for any reason, and shouldn’t be given anything to eat or drink unless they were seated back on their bunks.

  “I know you can handle yourself, but don’t trust either of them,” I told him. “Don’t give them any opportunity to grab you through the bars. We should be back before eight.”

  Grace and I looped around Beaver Creek Park and up onto the bluff above the walking trail, leaving her Jeep at the trailhead where dirt bike paths wind through the woods above the creek. The disadvantage an outsider has when being tracked by locals in rural America is that every kid in town, for generations past, has been executing mock attacks and ambushes through every stretch of woods in the county. There had been a time, not too many years earlier, when I could have led a raiding team down that bluff blindfolded without making a sound. The game trails had changed over the past fifteen years, but not enough that either of us had trouble slipping down through the dark shadows of a moonless night in silence.