by Lauren Bach
"Too bad." She checked the IV, found the drip had stopped, the tubing crimped where it had caught in the nightstand's drawer. "Here's part of the problem."
Working to restart the IV, she added yet another antibiotic. "This may be futile. He needs blood work, cultures."
Lyle coughed, his eyes fluttering, unfocused. "No hospitals, Tris. I'd rather die . . . than go back to . . . prison."
"Don't worry. You ain't going back, bro." Tristin turned to Adam. "Nevin's waiting on you. I'll stay and help the doctor."
Nevin was in the kitchen. "Here's what I've come up with," he said. "Call your partner and tell him to drive north into Wyoming on highway 191. We'll pick him up at the Roadside Diner, thirty miles south of Pinedale, in three hours."
"Hold it. I haven't discussed any of this with him. He may have other ideas. His coming here was never part of our plan."
"Plans change. We have a deal to conclude and now all those Feds are massing in Colorado. If we bring him here, it's safer. We can make final arrangements to get the C-4, and you two can talk to Pa, figure out if you're interested in doing more. If not, fine—but you know yourself it's a hell of a lot easier to conduct business in person than on the run."
Adam couldn't fault Nevin's logic. "I may not be able to reach him. If he's gotten wind the Feds are that close, he may have fled."
Nevin checked his watch. "I've got an errand to run. There's a phone in the other room. I'll be back in an hour. If he agrees, we'll take off, then meet the chopper."
"What about the woman?"
"Tristin and Burt will stay here with her and Lyle. Pa should be back by the time we return."
Adam didn't like the idea of leaving Renata. Asking to bring her along was out of the question; would only raise suspicion, especially with Lyle so sick. Having his brother pose as his partner, and getting him here quickly was their best option for now.
Burt was on the computer when Adam went to use the phone, so he kept his call to Zach brief.
"I was getting worried" his brother began.
"There's been a change." He explained his conversation with Willy and Nevin.
"Did you tell him I'd be interested?"
Adam grunted. "I told him I don't put words in your mouth. Can you make Pinedale, Wyoming, in three hours?"
"Might be tight. I'm trying to wrap up a few arrangements here."
"What kind of arrangements?" "I doubt you want to know. But I've got the merchandise close by."
Adam grunted. The C-4. How in the hell had his brother gotten that? "I need you to forward those files."
"Will do. I'll see you soon."
When Adam returned to Lyle's room, Tristin took a break to get coffee, which gave him a moment alone with Renata.
Adam pulled her away from the bed and lowered his voice. "Nevin and I are going to pick up my brother. I shouldn't be gone long."
Her eyes flared. "Guess that means you aren't taking me, are you?"
"Not with Lyle this ill. I should only be gone a few hours."
"And if you don't return?"
He nudged her chin up. "I'll return."
Footsteps sounded in the hall. Adam moved back to the bed and began discussing Lyle's condition.
Behind them, Burt cleared his throat. "You need to go. Nevin's waiting."
Renata had a strong urge to run after Adam. Even though she knew it was part of the charade, his cold indifference in front of Burt stung. And the knowledge that he'd be gone left her uneasy.
She had no illusions where the McEdwins were concerned. To them, she was nothing more than a temporary caretaker for Lyle. Beyond that, she was a liability. Someone who could lead the police to their hideout.
The morning passed slowly. She remained in Lyle's room, reading old magazines. Tristin or Burt remained just outside the door, the computerized binks and boinks from a handheld video game a constant reminder of their presence. And their apathy.
At noon Tristin delivered a tray of food. Enough for five or six people—provided they liked it burnt. "It's late for breakfast, but it's all I can cook. The oatmeal's for Lyle."
Ignoring the brown eggs, she forced herself to eat a piece of scorched toast, smearing it first with strawberry jelly. The sugar did little to cover the carbon taste.
Lyle roused enough to take a single bite of oatmeal. "Tastes like ... shit. Pa must be gone."
"Try a little more," she urged.
"What's the use?" He turned away, drifted back to sleep.
Frustrated, she changed his dressings and bathed him. He looked cachectic—drawn, deathlike—his body so ravaged with infection that it was slowly shutting down.
"Fight," she whispered, pulling a clean sheet over him.
He stirred barely conscious. "Thanks, doc. I know I don't... deserve ... care ... like this."
His gratitude surprised her. "Everyone deserves care. It's a basic human dignity."
"I'm not gonna make it, am I?"
"I won't lie. You're quite sick. But I've seen worse." A new idea occurred to her. What if, in his weakened state, she could convince Lyle to ask to go to a hospital? Surely Willy would honor his son's request.
"You'll make it," she urged. "If we can get you to a hospital. Surely your father can pull some strings; get you admitted under an alias."
When he didn't respond, she bowed her head, discouraged.
"My father ... won't... help," Lyle whispered.
She shifted closer. "What about your brothers?"
"Or Adam—" Lyle passed out.
A noise sounded behind her. Burt leaned in the doorjamb, watching her, making her uncomfortable.
"Did I hear Lyle talking?" he asked.
She moved closer to where Burt stood. Lyle had said his father wouldn't help, but he hadn't ruled out his brothers or Adam.
"He asked to go to a hospital." She kept her voice low. "He doesn't want to die."
A shadow crossed Burt's face. "Pa said gangrene's already set in. That he'll lose use of his leg."
"Your father is wrong. The leg could be saved." Renata felt the lie stick in her throat. She'd seen the signs of non-responsiveness in Lyle's leg, felt the coldness from lack of circulation. Neither boded well. But Burt wasn't a doctor.
He nodded toward the bed. "We took an oath. Not to be taken alive. We take him to the hospital, it'll be as good as turning him in."
"I took an oath, too. To save lives. He's your brother. Doesn't that mean anything? Even if he went back to prison he'd still be alive."
Burt laughed. "You've never been in prison, have you?"
She didn't answer.
"Lyle told us some pretty bad stories about what they did to him. You've seen the marks. Has any one tortured you, Doc? Any scars under here?" Burt inched closer, his hand moving to her sleeve. "Or is it all just creamy skin?"
Renata slapped his hand away and stepped back. "Don't touch me. Ever."
Burt smiled. One of those smiles that didn't hit his eyes. "That was the wrong thing to do, Doc."
The trip was uneventful. The chopper pilot had a car waiting where they touched down in Wyoming. They drove the short distance to the diner, a hole-in-the-wall most people would pass by.
Adam wondered if Zach had made it. He'd spent the helicopter ride second-guessing his choices; now it was too late. He went inside, a stocking hat pulled low on his brow. He scanned the small crowd, not certain what to expect.
The man in the second booth removed his sunglasses and met his gaze. Adam did a double take, scarcely recognizing his own brother.
The blue eyes they shared were hidden beneath brown contacts. Zach also sported a bleached-blond goatee that matched his close-cropped hair. Except for their similar builds—Adam was two inches taller—it was impossible to tell they were brothers.
He shoved aside the twinge of guilt. By nightfall, his brother would be in as much danger as Renata.
"You don't look so bad" Zach said. "Perhaps prison was good for you."
"You'll pay for that crack la
ter," Adam promised. "We don't have long. How's Stan?" "Unchanged but stable."
Adam pointed to the duffle bag on the seat. "Anything in there that can't stand scrutiny?"
"It's mostly toys, meant to dazzle. The good stuff's hidden. The C-4's en route to a warehouse in Idaho."
"At this rate, I'll have to include you in the bust."
"News flash: It's not mine. You want to know why Stan had such an easy time creating a believable partner for you? Daniel Montague is the alias Ethan Falco used in the past to front arms deals and further his cause by boosting some of the militia groups. It also made him a little money on the side. Guess he's still up to the same old tricks. Stan had even tracked down a warehouse of stuff Falco has cached. The man could have supplied a small army. I helped myself to everything I thought we could use."
"Nothing surprises me anymore. Guess I owe you an apology. Did you hear from Chris Tashley? Did he get the files?"
"He got them and confirmed a few of the facts Stan gathered. Enough to convince him it's all legit. He's working through the proper channels to assemble a team in private. But he wants you to locate that first shipment of C-4 before taking the McEdwins down."
Adam didn't like the thought of one hundred pounds of C-4 floating loose either. "I'll try to find out tonight, but I'm prepared to close it down without that info. Lyle needs a hospital and Renata's in constant danger. Besides, the longer we wait, the greater the chance of one of the McEdwins slipping away." The fact that Willy had disappeared already bothered Adam. What if the old man didn't return?
Adam kept quiet as the waitress approached. He waved her off. "We're leaving."
Zach stood. "Where's the woman now?"
"At the compound. That's why I'm in a hurry to return." Adam threw a twenty on the table.
When they approached the car, Nevin climbed out and pointed to the bag Zach carried. "Tell him to drop it."
"He drops it, something's liable to break," Adam said. "Or explode."
Nevin eyed the bag with undisguised interest. "I'll still need to search it."
"No problem," Adam said. "But let's get away from here first. Being out in the wide open makes me nervous."
Renata backed away. Her foot brushed a stool. She glanced down, checking the path for other obstacles.
"You're a spunky little thing," Burt taunted. "I see why Duval's been so hot to keep you for himself."
Without warning, he rushed her. Renata had a split second to react. She swung her fist, but only grazed his chin.
They crashed to the ground, Burt on top. He easily pinned her.
She screamed and kicked, fighting.
"Yeah, that's it," Burt snarled. "Remember to buck just like that when my dick's inside you—"
His words were cut off as he was physically lifted off her. Renata saw Willy McEdwin standing over them.
"You idiot! Leave her be!"
Burt snorted. "What's the bitch got that everyone's so concerned about? A fucking golden pussy?"
"I gave Duval my word she wouldn't be harmed. Besides, your brother still needs her."
Renata scrambled backwards and climbed to her feet. She knew by the contemptuous look Willy gave her that the only reason he'd intervened was because he didn't want to risk jeopardizing his deal with Adam.
"She claims Lyle wants to go to the hospital," Burt said.
"I don't believe that," Willy said. "Take her downstairs, tell Tristin to get her some decent food. I'll stay with Lyle until Nevin and Duval get back."
It was almost comical how friendly both Nevin and the pilot became once they searched Zach's bag and saw the weaponry. Even Adam was impressed. Most intriguing was a mini-machine gun with a grenade launcher. The compact grenades came in incendiary and fragment models.
The pieces had all been customized and looked state-of-the-art. Where in the hell was Ethan Falco getting this kind of hardware and what was he doing with it?
"Are these the Star Wars prototypes I keep hearing about?" the pilot asked.
Adam knew the man's question was sincere. He also knew a stupid question when he heard one. That the government was secretly developing futuristic spy satellites and revolutionary weapon systems was a favorite conspiracy theory.
"You think I'd carry those around in a bag like this?" Zach joked. Then he winked, leaving just enough doubt to fuel the pilot's imagination.
It was late afternoon when they returned to the McEdwins' compound.
Willy met them at the door. He eyed Zach's gold hoop earrings quizzically before extending a hand. "You must be Daniel Montague."
Zach shook it. "My partner says you have an interesting proposition."
"All business, eh? I like that. Come in."
Nevin nodded toward the staircase. "How's Lyle?"
"Not good. His kidneys may be shutting down. The doctor thinks it's as easy as loading him into a car and taking him in for dialysis." Willy shook his head.
"Is she with him now?" Adam asked.
"Tristin's with her, too. She and Burt had a little tussle earlier; guess she got a little mouthy. You need to speak to her about cooperating."
Adam scowled. He'd be eager to hear Renata's version of what happened. "She's okay?"
"Yep." Willy motioned them to the table; then set a large pot of coffee in the center. "How soon can I get my hands on that C-4?"
"Within hours," Adam said. "We have it ready for pickup."
"After payment, of course," Zach added.
Willy turned to Nevin, who left the room. He returned moments later and set a cardboard box on the table.
"Count it for them," Willy said.
Nevin withdrew stacks of worn hundred dollar bills. Twenty-five of them. "There's a hundred bills in each one. Ten grand per stack."
Zach reached forward and thumbed through the stacks. "Looks like a quarter million to me."
Willy met Adam's gaze. "I need to check on one thing first, then we'll discuss specifics on delivery. You can take half the money now, with the rest on receipt. Fair enough?"
Adam nodded. "I need a little notice myself, to make a call."
"That settles that," Willy said. "What about my proposal on other items?"
Zach looked from Adam to Willy. "At double what we were getting before? I'm interested, but I won't yank your chain. A lot depends on what kind of merchandise you're looking for." "And the time frame," Adam said. "Getting the C-4 on such short notice was a miracle. That can't be the norm."
Willy agreed. "As far as resale opportunities go, I can use any kind of weaponry. Nevin mentioned Montague's brought some fancy hardware along. Naturally, the high tech stuff gets top dollar. I have a personal interest in remote relay systems if you can get any fast. The ones I get from overseas are crap."
Zach frowned. "Are you talking about remote detonators for the C-4 we're getting?"
"Guess it's no secret that I've got an ax to grind."
"Remote relays are a dime a dozen," Adam said.
"Not the kind I want," Willy said. "These have to trigger simultaneously, at five different locations."
"What kind of distance are we talking?" Zach asked.
"Several hundred miles."
"You've considered cell phones that could be auto-dialed by a computer?"
"The reliability's spotty. Damn dropped calls."
"What about satellite phones, from a secure tower?" Zach continued. "With locations transmitted by GPS coordinates?"
Willy shook his head. "That sounds complicated."
Adam refilled his coffee. "For someone like you and me, it's impossible. But for someone who knows electronics and can access the right database, it's easy."
Zach sighed. "He makes it sound so simple."
"Then spare me the details and give me a simple answer," Willy said. "Is it doable?"
"Not under all circumstances," Zach replied. "I would need a few more details on the type of application—and the locations—before I can give you an answer."
"Let me think about i
t," Willy said.
"As far as the other stuff," Adam said. "I propose you let us check what weaponry is available. Then you tell us what we can unload quickly to turn some fast cash."
Zach nodded. "I'll also check on those remote relays. Do you have an Internet portal and a place my laptop can sit uninterrupted for a while?"
Willy pointed to the corner of the room where his computers were hooked up. "We can run a line from over there."
Nevin, who'd finished splitting the cash into two piles, turned to Zach. "I gotta tell you, I'm curious as hell how you managed to crack the defense department's system. It's supposed to be hack-proof."
"That's why we go in through the manufacturer," Adam said. "Government's contracted most inventory management back to them and—"
Zach cut him off. "You're giving away my secrets."
Nevin whistled. "Slick."
"But not easy." Zach reached into his bag and withdrew a laptop and a small black box. "They change passwords regularly and have elaborate security sequences that I have to debug first."
"What's the black box?" Nevin asked.
"A scrambler. And it has to be close to where the line comes in, next to the wall."
"Let me see that." Willy held out his hand. "What are all these for?" He pointed to the line of phone jacks and cable connections across the back.
"Careful. That's a one-of-a-kind piece of technology." Zach said. "I can run up to four units through here. Phone, fax, desktop, laptop. The box scrambles the signal and sends fake transmission info. Then it boomerangs from phone system to phone system, changing its own trail, so it can't be traced."
"Mind if I try it out while you're here?" Willy asked.
"Go ahead. Just don't get too attached to it. It's not for sale."
"Everything's for sale." Willy moved to watch Nevin help Zach get the laptop connected. "You can leave it there. I'll see that it's not touched."
Zach cracked his knuckles and then started hitting keys rapid fire. A dialog box popped up. keyguard activated. Behind the box, strings of symbols began flashing.
Willy looked back at Adam. "He can stay with you in the bunkhouse. I'll have Tristin bring the woman out shortly. Let's meet again for supper in two hours."
