by D. F. Hart
They all nodded.
“Any questions?”
“You let the park officials know?” Lizzie asked.
“Already cleared the way for you,” he confirmed. “I had that conversation about forty minutes ago and gave them an overview. Annie, you’ll need to get with Marjorie Baker onsite. She’s the park’s director.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll track her down first thing.”
“I’ll coordinate with Rick so that the tracking beacon and bugs in Grant’s vehicle revert back to real time transmissions tomorrow morning,” Nathan continued. “That should give us enough time to get you guys up there and in place.”
He paused.
“One last thing. The goal is to wrap this as quickly and as quietly as possible, and we want him captured alive if at all possible. But if the situation deteriorates you are authorized to use deadly force to protect bystanders that are on the scene. Anyone have a problem with that?”
Nathan looked at each team member in turn.
And each one answered him the same way.
“No, sir.”
***
At seven-thirty p.m. the arrest and search warrants Nathan had been itching to get his hands on were finally approved.
He strode out to the bullpen.
“Need to go serve warrants,” he announced. “Who’s in?”
Grace Womack raised her hand immediately, as did Mark Calloway and Herb Davis.
“Excellent. Grace, round up the breach team, please. We’ll meet up in the motor pool in a half-hour for a briefing before we depart. Full armor, guys. This one’s dangerous.”
As he walked away, he called Lizzie.
“Got the warrants. We’ll be rolling in about forty-five minutes. I’ll keep you posted.”
***
Lizzie hung up and looked at Annie, Ben, and Grant.
“They’re moving on the warrants within the hour,” she relayed. “Let’s hope they’re successful.”
Annie looked across Bernice’s kitchen table at Grant.
“Just in case they’re not,” she said, “let’s keep going with the pop quiz. I need to have all this history down pat before Friday morning.”
***
At nine p.m. Rick’s cell phone rang.
“I need you, buddy,” a frustrated Nathan said without preamble. “He’s got a serious setup here that’s locked nine ways to Sunday, and I need your expertise.”
“On my way. And don’t let him mess with your head, Nathan.”
“No chance of that,” Nathan said despondently. “He’s in the wind.”
***
Nathan hung up the call with Rick, grimaced at the tension headache he’d developed, and dialed Lizzie again.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” she asked when she answered.
“Yep,” came the reply. “I’ll be heading your way in the next few hours, once we get all his electronics here secured and any evidence collected. Plan B is no longer a backup.”
“Grace,” he called out once he’d disconnected his call with Lizzie. “Make sure the techs get as many prints as they can.”
“Sure thing,” Agent Womack replied. “And I’ll make sure they’re compared against your open cases as soon as we get back to the lab. If you need to get going, you can, Nathan. We’ve got this.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll stay until Rick Connor gets here,” he answered. “Then I’ll head out.”
***
Meanwhile, the man Nathan Thomas so desperately sought to find was sleeping soundly in the fleabag motel room he’d paid cash for, roughly a half-hour from Fort Richardson. He’d left his house a little after eight p.m. and headed north out of Fort Worth toward his destination; Nathan’s team missed him by just about thirty-five minutes.
As he slept, he dreamed of the grand finale to his game, and smiled.
***
“Wow,” Rick said when he sat at the killer’s home computer terminal. “You weren’t kidding. This is pretty good stuff.”
“Like how good?”
Rick met his eyes.
“Makes Lizzie’s hitman boyfriend’s stuff look tame,” he murmured so only his friend could hear him. “Does that answer it?”
“Christ,” Nathan uttered under his breath. “How long, do you think?”
“Honestly?” Rick said as he rolled up his sleeves. “I’m not sure. Let me get started here. I take it you’re heading to Jacksboro?”
“Straight from here.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m in.”
“Thanks, Rick, I owe you one.”
Rick grinned. “At this point, Thomas, you owe me several. But who’s counting?”
Nathan grinned back despite the circumstances and clapped him on the shoulder before walking over to have one last word with the other FBI agents onsite.
“Any developments, you know how to find me,” he concluded, holding up his cell phone. “I’m on the road, guys.”
“Be careful, and good luck,” Calloway chimed in.
***
An exhausted Nathan parked in front of Bernice Forrester’s house a little before two a.m. Thursday morning. He was met at the door by Grant and Lizzie.
“Agent Thomas, you look worn out. There’s a spare bedroom down the hall that you’re welcome to use for a while.”
“I might just take you up on that,” Nathan said. “I’m beat, and I’m pretty confident nothing’s happening until Friday morning, at the earliest.”
His cell phone rang.
“It’s Rick,” he told them, and then said, “Man, tell me something good.”
“I’ve seen less layers in lasagna,” Rick replied. “I’ve gotten through two so far. Ten more to go.”
“Twelve layers of encryption?”
“On a rotating cipher,” Rick sighed. “It’s a real piece of work. Beautiful, even. And frustrating as hell. I can get through them all, it’s just going to take time.”
“If anyone can crack it, it’s you. Max always said you were the best he’s ever seen.”
His phone beeping indicated the battery’s charge was dangerously low.
“Rick, both me and my phone are just about dead. I’m going to try to catch a few hours of sleep.”
“Go for it,” Rick replied. “I’ve got Lizzie’s number I can call with updates.”
Nathan hung up and accepted the charger cord Lizzie offered. Once it was plugged in, he turned to Grant.
“Where’s that room again?”
Grant pointed. “The third door on the left.”
Nathan looked at the cheery clock hanging in Bernice’s kitchen.
“If I’m not up by seven, wake me.”
He stopped halfway down the hall and turned around.
“Where are Annie and Ben?”
“We didn’t have enough rooms here,” Lizzie said, “so they crashed over at Kelly’s.”
“Huh,” he said, and went into the room, shutting the door behind him.
Grant’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Should we have told him Kelly’s place only has one bed?”
Lizzie smiled. “If he can’t see for himself that those two have something going, I’m sure as hell not gonna be the one to tell him.”
***
He drove into Fort Richardson State Park a little after eight a.m. and paid cash for a day pass. He nodded and smiled at the front gate attendant when she handed him his receipt and a map of the park.
“Enjoy your day,” she said, and waved him through the gate.
He rolled his car forward to get out of the way, then stepped on the brake and glanced at the map.
His plan was to commandeer a primitive campsite at the far end of the park and hunker down for the evening, then sneak into position and set up overnight, just as he had at Fort Concho.
Yep, just like I saw online, he thought to himself. First turn up ahead to the left and follow it all the way back to the lot. But not yet. First, let’s go double-check the layout of the fort.
He stayed on the
main road, following the signs that led him directly to the oversized visitor’s lot. He parked, got out, and began to walk the grounds.
And was immediately frustrated at what he saw.
I could have sworn I read that Concho and Richardson had the same hospital buildings, but this one doesn’t have the cupola! Dammit. Now what do I do?
He concentrated on clearing his mind. No losing control. Not now. You’re so close. Focus.
He turned to survey the landscape and smiled when he saw the commanding officer’s quarters come into view – complete with attic windows peeking out from the roof.
“That,” he said to himself, “will do nicely.”
He took his time viewing the rest of the grounds, whistling softly to himself.
Gonna make a hell of a splash tomorrow afternoon, that’s for sure.
He knew from texts he’d seen back and forth between Grant and Kelly that they were scheduled to tour the fort together Friday morning.
So, I’ll let them. I have to make sure they’re seen together. Hopefully they’ll separate when the reenactment starts, and I’ll not only have a clear shot but be able to throw suspicion directly his way.
And if they don’t? his mind clapped back. What if he stays by her side the whole time?
“He can’t be with her twenty-four-seven,” he answered himself under his breath. “And it’s not like I don’t know where she lives.”
Satisfied with his plan, he sauntered to his car, backed out of the space, and traveled back along the main road until he came to the side road leading to primitive campsites.
***
Nathan, Lizzie, and Annie pulled into the main visitor’s lot a little bit after ten and walked into the Interpretive Center. They were approached by a woman in her mid-fifties with kind eyes and white-blond hair.
“Good morning. I’m Marjorie Baker, the park director. Did you have any questions about the fort?”
“I’m Nathan Thomas, Ms. Baker. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”
“Agent Thomas, it’s good to meet you,” she said as she shook his hand.
“Likewise. I’d like to introduce Agent Zimmerman and Agent Adams.”
Marjorie looked at Annie. “I can see the resemblance to Miss Moore, most definitely.”
She turned back to Nathan and politely said, “Agent Thomas, may I have a word?”
“Sure. After you.”
When they were out of earshot of Nathan’s team, she spoke quietly but firmly.
“I’m a former agent myself. Spent almost ten years with the Bureau back in the day. Between too little sleep, lousy pay, horrible coffee, and getting shot at every other week, I eventually got burned out. And I’ve always loved nature and history, so, I made a career change. Parks and Wildlife pays better, and I don’t have to dodge bullets.”
“So, Agent Thomas,” she concluded, arms folding across her chest, “how about you read me in the rest of the way so I can help keep that young agent of yours -and everyone else around here – safe?”
He grinned. “Oh, I like you, Ms. Baker. Okay, here’s what we’ve got.”
When he was finished, she noted, “I’ve got four other staff members besides me with law enforcement backgrounds that can help, too. How many do you have on your team?”
“Five,” he told her. “Me, three agents, and a civilian whose presence is necessary to lure this guy in.”
“Ouch,” she retorted. “I don’t envy the civilian, that’s for sure. Whatever you need, Agent Thomas, we’ve got your back.”
***
At seven-thirty Friday morning, Annie Adams, dressed in one of Kelly Moore’s Parks and Wildlife uniforms and wearing a blond wig and baseball cap, pulled into the employee lot at the fort.
“Mic test,” she murmured.
“Read you loud and clear,” Nathan told her. “You good?”
“I’m good. Let’s catch this jackass.”
She got out of the car and walked into the Interactive Center for the morning staff meeting. Marjorie Baker greeted her with a subtle hand squeeze.
“You got this,” the park director whispered, and Annie smiled her thanks.
***
From his sniper’s nest inside the CO’s quarters attic, he watched Kelly walk into the Interactive Center.
“There’s one,” he said to himself. “Now I just need Grant to show up.”
***
“Okay,” Nathan stressed to Grant as the rest of the team rallied just inside the main park entrance. “You’ve got to act normally. You’re there, you’re walking around with Kelly, you’re enjoying the history of it all, it’s a normal day, okay? If he sees you’re anything but relaxed, he’ll bolt, and we might not get another chance.”
“Agent Thomas,” Grant said evenly, “relax. I know what’s at stake. Just trust me, okay?”
“I do, Grant. I do.”
“I’d better get going. The texts we let him see said eight o’clock on the dot, and he’s watched me long enough to know I’m always early.”
“See you in there.”
***
He saw Grant walk over to Kelly, kiss her, then take her hand.
“Okay, it’s on,” he murmured to himself. “Now to wait for the right moment.”
***
“How are you doing? You all right?” Annie asked as they walked along holding hands.
“I’m good, considering a lunatic is around here somewhere,” Grant answered. “You?”
“I’m gonna be really pissed if he shoots at me,” she told him through a fake smile. “I’ve heard that even with a vest on it really hurts.”
Suddenly she heard Nathan in her ear.
“Marjorie just told me they had a security system blip around three a.m. in the commanding officer’s quarters,” Nathan said. “Where is that relative to your position?”
“My three o’clock,” Annie said, and tilted her head back so that it looked like she was laughing at something Grant had said. In reality it was to glance at the building in question.
“East attic window is open about three inches,” she murmured. “I think he’s in there.”
“Roger that. You two keep doing your thing. We’re going to close his position.”
A few minutes later Annie heard Nathan say, “We’ve got the building covered. You two separate, let’s see if we can get him to take the shot and then come down.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Oh, hell. Here we go.
“Our dance is over, Grant,” Annie said. “Head back toward the Interactive Center. We’re about to flush him out.”
“Be careful,” Grant whispered before making a show of kissing her again. “See you in a bit.”
“Here’s hoping,” she whispered back, then turned and started to head toward the enlisted men’s barracks across the parade field from the commanding officer’s building.
Annie heard the crack of the rifle the same moment she felt the bullet slam into the middle of her back. The sheer force of it sent her stumbling forward several feet before she landed hard on her face.
All around her, panic and pandemonium were unleashed as she struggled to regain her breath. Through her earpiece she could hear her team’s chatter and smiled despite the inability to draw in a decent lungful of air.
Got him. They got him... Christ, that hurt...
“Annie!” she heard Ben bellow, both in her ear and in the air.
“Oh, God. Annie,” he said as he knelt by her side and gently turned her over.
“Hey,” she managed to croak, “winded...”
“I bet. That was a hell of a round. Can you sit up?”
She nodded.
Gradually the pain receded a bit, and she was able to take in a full breath, which immediately made her choke.
“I knew you had a vest on. I knew it,” Ben told her. “And it still almost stopped my heart when I heard the shot and saw you go down.”
“We... got him... right... baby?” she wheezed.
“Yes, baby,
” he said, stroking her cheek. “We got him.”
“If you two lovebirds are through,” Nathan said clearly through their earpieces, “perhaps Annie might like to get checked out by the medics now?”
Ben grinned and scooped her up, bridal style.
“Gee, boss, nothing gets by you, does it? We’re on our way.”
***
“It’s over, Kelly. We caught him,” Grant told her as soon as she picked up the phone.
“Oh, thank God,” she exclaimed. “Is everyone all right?”
“Yeah. Annie had the wind knocked out of her, and she’s going to have a hellacious bruise from taking a round to the back of her armored vest, but yeah, she should be fine.”
“So, what does he look like?”
“That’s the weird thing, honey,” Grant said. “He looks exactly like me. It’s uncanny.”
***
Late that afternoon, back in Dallas, Nathan Thomas sat across from the man they’d tackled to the ground at Fort Richardson.
They’d discovered two sets of identification on his person – one set proclaiming him to be Grant Forrester, and the other under the name of Stephen Walsh. He’d been captured holding Grant’s missing Winchester 1873, and his fingerprints had returned a ninety-nine-point nine percent match to all four crimes.
For Nathan, it was like looking into a mirror image of Grant’s face. The single difference was the thin white jawline scar Stephen Walsh possessed.
The rest of him, however, could not have been more different.
From reading Stephen’s file, Nathan knew of the physical abuses he’d suffered as a child, first from his adoptive mother, and later at the hands of a particularly vicious foster parent. But it was still quite shocking to see those marks in person.
Stephen’s back and torso were littered with scars – some jagged, others perfectly small and round.
Nathan didn’t need to ask what had caused them. He already knew.
It turned his stomach to even think about it.
“Mr. Walsh,” he began softly, “my name is Nathan Thomas. I’d like to talk to you about why you’re here.”
