Deidre was hardly cognizant of the captain’s words. Her head throbbed with each beat of her heart, her face felt like a balloon that was ready to burst, and her thirst was becoming unbearable. The captain reached behind him, and she heard the lid of the cooler open. She expected him to taunt her with cold water, but instead, he unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to her. She controlled the urge to chug it down and sipped a mouthful at a time. The captain continued his monologue.
“There are countless groups like ours scattered across the United States. Most of them are stationed in remote area, like this, but a few are set up in cities, right under the officials’ noses. Of course, as of yet, the groups are loosely connected, but some of us have a vision of strengthening those connections, forming a web of fighters from coast to coast. We have plans.” The captain looked at Deidre and realized she had drifted off to her own world. He thought it interesting how the human brain could shut down to avoid unpleasant events.
She didn’t know how much later it was, but Deidre woke to find herself in the corner. Someone had thrown a blanket over her, and when she tried to move, she ached all over. Rough hands grabbed her underarms and she was hauled to the chair, and she wondered if she could stand another round of the heat. She waited with terror wracking her mind for the inevitable, but it didn’t happen. She saw she was being photographed, and then was pulled back to her corner, where she was dropped. Deidre pulled the blanket over herself, covering her head, and lay on the bare floorboards, shivering, although the room was warm.
Chapter Forty-One
Ben was wracked with waves of alternating anger and total despair, and he paced the floor. Once, he stopped by the window that looked out over the garden that Deidre loved. Late summer flowers bloomed, dahlias and cone flowers, behind them a crop of hollyhocks flanked by sunflowers. He choked back a sob and turned away from the scene. His throat constricted so he could barely swallow, and he stumbled on the way back to the table. A topo map was spread out on top of the county map on which they had first located the coordinates of the camp. Now he knew where it was, knew where his wife was suffering, knew what they were up against, and his heart sank. To him, the situation looked hopeless, especially because they had no idea what motivated the group holding her.
If they were out to simply kill a sheriff, she would be dead by now. On the other hand, if they were seeking information, she had none to give them. To Ben, her abduction made no sense, and he wondered with what kind of radical bunch they were dealing. He made a trip upstairs and looked in on his daughters. They were on their beds, sleeping, and he smiled. Ben remembered back to when his father had suffered a heart attack and he had curled up on the hospital waiting room couch and fallen asleep. To him, sleep was the great escape. Like father, like daughters.
Quietly, he closed the door and slipped back downstairs. On the way down, the thought struck him that when the Guard arrived, along with the FBI SWAT team, he would want to go with them. But there was no way he could leave the girls alone. Ben was at a total loss for who to call. Jeff’s wife, Danielle, had trouble enough of her own to be bothered. He couldn’t ask her to come and relive the night Jeff was shot. Without warning, Inga popped into his head. It took him one try to reach her.
“Inga, this is Ben, Deidre’s husband. Inga, we’ve got some big trouble here, and I need your help. Is it possible that you could take time to be with our daughters, and would it be asking too much to have you drive out and spend the night with them?” For an instant his gut relaxed when Deidre’s dear friend said she’d be there in twenty minutes, and he was thankful she didn’t ask for an explanation. Ben didn’t know how urgent his voice had sounded.
While the other officers were busying themselves as they waited, Ben sat at the table, reworking in his mind what he had seen of the camp. He had no idea how they would ever be able to storm the place and rescue Deidre. His contemplation was jarred by his phone’s tone, another text message coming in, and he opened it. It was another picture, along with a text. Ben’s hands trembled and he lost the battle as he tried to fight back tears. Deidre was sitting in the usual chair, but this time the bright light was turned off. It didn’t matter; she looked totally defeated. The result of the blow he had seen delivered on the video was clearly evident. Her lip was swollen, but now to match that injury, her left eye was swollen shut and beginning to turn purple. Across the side of her face, he could make out the raised imprint where the four fingers of someone’s hand had struck. She could barely keep her head up, and the life spark had totally left her one visible eye. He groaned so loudly, two of the deputies and Jackie rushed in to see what had happened.
“Look at the picture and then look at the text. When are we going to do something?” The three officers crowded together, jockeying for position so they could see the screen of the phone.
One of them read the text out loud. “‘Time is running out,’” the officer intoned. “‘Come get your wife before it’s too late. Realize, we are in a state of war, and I can’t guarantee her safety forever.’”
“We’ve got to get moving, quick.” Jackie said, and then, by the expression on her face, the others could see she had an idea. “They’ve been telling us to come and get her. It’s a challenge, a taunt, and I think things are going to continue to escalate until they get a message that we’ve accepted the challenge. The longer we wait to respond, the more they are going to up the ante with Deidre. I think Ben should send a text back simply stating that we’re coming. Perhaps they’ll lay off her if they know they’ve accomplished what they want.” A rigorous argument ensued, some agreeing with Jackie, others being hesitant. Finally, Ben spoke.
“I’m not sending that message. If they think they have us on the way, what’s to stop them from killing her? We have to maintain what little leverage we have.” Jackie gave up the argument and Ben stepped outside.
He checked the time on his phone. Almost four o’clock. Ben chafed at how slowly time was passing. He wished all the units that had been called out were on hand, working on a plan, getting prepared to move. While he was standing on the porch, Inga pulled into the driveway and hurried out of her car. Ben was surprised how nimble she was and how quickly she walked across the yard.
“Ben, what’s happened? Are the girls okay? Deidre?” She looked at Ben’s lined face and knew whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“It’s Deidre,” he said, putting his arm around Inga’s shoulders and guiding her into the living room. “She’s been kidnapped by a militia, and they’re holding her in a camp back in the woods. We don’t really know what they want yet, other than they keep taunting us to come and get her.” He choked up, and Inga held his hand. When he could speak again, he asked, “Will you stay with us, take care of the girls, while this mess plays out? They need somebody with them, and I can’t be right now. You’re the best person I know for the job.”
Inga patted his hand. “Are they upstairs in their room?” she asked, and started to move to the stairs before he responded. Ben nodded, but it was to her back. She was halfway to the top of the stairs. As he was returning to the kitchen, a column of FBI vehicles pulled into his yard, including an armored vehicle. The sight of them brought hope. He recognized the director of the Duluth division, who stepped out of the last car to pull in and park, and Ben strode toward his boss.
“How you doin’, Ben?” the director asked. “When the others get here, I’ve got some news that everyone will be interested in hearing. Until then, is there anything I can do to help? God, this must be a nightmare for you.”
Ben toed the ground, then looked up. “Just knowing that things are beginning to materialize means a lot to me, sir. Come in and meet the others. You know Jackie, but there are a half-dozen deputies from Deidre’s force who want to help. Don’t cut them out is all I ask.”
Together, they walked up the steps, but before they reached the door, the sound of a veritabl
e convoy stopped them. They turned to see a line of drab-painted vehicles swing into the yard. Parking space was getting to be a problem, and Ben motioned them to drive into his neighbor’s hayfield. A sergeant clamored out of the lead truck and began barking orders, and an organized chaos erupted. The leader of the group came to join Ben and the director, and Ben was dumbstruck to see he was wearing battle gear. Once inside, introductions were made, and the major, whose nametag read “Jensen,” laid out a new set of maps that were far more detailed than those they had been using. He had just placed a red-headed pin on the locus of the camp when another ruckus sounded outside.
The governor’s entourage drove in directly after the Guard, followed by a horde of media people. The place was becoming a circus, and something had to be done. At the present, no one was in charge, and Ben gave an order. “Deputies, would you guys go out and move those reporters back? Set up a perimeter, and tell them they’ll be shot if they cross it, or something.” Major Jensen agreed, and told them to forget the line about being shot but to tell them they’d suffer the consequences if they bucked the orders. I’ll figure out the consequences after the fact, he thought.
Ben expected the governor to make a grand entrance, but instead the man calmly walked into the room and asked if it would be okay if he stayed to listen to what was being planned. Ben looked at him through new eyes, and the politician moved to a position out of the way but where he could see everything. Major Jensen offered a customary welcome and got back to looking at the map.
“One of you has been in there. Who was that?” he asked. Ben raised his hand and stepped forward, wondering what his role would be. Again, any communication was interrupted by a disturbance in the yard, and through the window, they saw another armored vehicle arrive, accompanied by three state trooper vehicles. All hands were on deck for what Ben visualized to be an all out assault, and he wondered what would happen to Deidre if that occurred.
The National Guard soldiers unpacked and began setting up large tent shelters. Ben could see the uniformed state troopers helping to carry gear into the first one erected, and he thought at that rate everything would be ready in an hour.
Chapter Forty-Two
Deidre was awakened by a kick to the bottom of her shoe, and her good eye sprung open. The other remained swollen shut. She tried to move, but a stiffness like she had never experienced locked her muscles and joints. Rough hands grabbed her arms and lifted her to her feet. She tried to walk, but could only manage small, shuffling steps. The man with the rough hands steadied her as she was directed to the spot across the room where the chair sat. She slowly lowered herself to a sitting position.
“You look rested,” Captain Blake said with a mock grin wrinkling his lips. “Not very presentable, but rested.” He stepped toward Deidre and in one motion grabbed the front of her blouse with both hands. She heard the buttons pop off the front and felt the fabric tear. Instinctively, she brought her arms up to cover her near nakedness. Captain Blake motioned with his head, and two of his underlings stepped forward. Each grabbed one hand and stretched her arms out from her sides. She was held in that pilloried position while a revealing picture was taken. When they let loose of her hands, she pulled her blouse shut in front and covered herself, sure that worse was to come. The same soldier helped her back to the corner, and no one touched her again. She slithered down the wall until her butt contacted the floor, and she doubted if she would ever see her family again.
*****
The major had just started quizzing Ben about the recon he had done in the morning when Ben’s phone came alive. He knew who it was and dreaded opening the text message. As soon as a new picture filled the screen, he sank onto a chair. “Damn them, no!” He repeated over and over again, “No, no, no! Not my wife!” Jackie pried the phone from his hands and gasped when she saw the picture.
Deidre looked as though she had been run through a gauntlet. One eye was completely swollen shut. Her hair was an absolute tangle, and it appeared that she had wet herself again. One side of her mouth was black and blue, her lips on that side swollen to twice their normal size. And now this. She was held in an exposed position while her picture had been taken, causing her humiliation. Jackie could see there had been physical harm done. She made a positive note: there was fire in Deidre’s good eye.
“Ben, this looks bad, I know, but I don’t think their sexual assault has gone any further than this. Did you look at Deidre’s eye? She hasn’t given up yet, and damn it, don’t you either!” She grabbed Ben’s shoulder and shook it. “We’re going to begin formulating our plan. Now you can sit there in a heap, or you can join us. The choice is yours. No one would fault you if you backed off and let us take care of it.”
Enraged, Ben stood to his full height and moved to the table without saying a word. Jackie saw the same look in his eyes that she had observed in Deidre’s. Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief. The governor stepped forward at that point.
“FBI Director Benton has an announcement to make before we get down to the nuts and bolts of this operation. Director Benton.”
The director stood up. “Since yesterday, there have been five reports from across the nation of incidents such as what we have going here today. In five different states, a law enforcement officer has been taken and tortured. The strange thing is that in each case, assailants made no attempt to disguise their actions. As a matter of fact, they taunted law enforcement to come after them. We think this is a pattern that will repeat itself in days to come. In two of the five cases, an assault was launched on the militia’s compounds. Right now, they are in standoffs. The hostage in each is still alive, but the Guard has no way to rush the captors without putting him or her at risk. Here, Major Jensen will be in charge, but we will function as a team to try to end this episode with as little violence as possible, and we’re going to try to end it quickly.”
Director Benton stepped away and motioned for the major to take over, and Jensen stepped to the table where the map lay open. “This is the location of the camp.” He pointed to the red pin protruding from the map. “Look at the contour lines that ring that spot. All of you know how to interpret a topo map, but I want to draw your attention to what we have here. The isolines form circles around the pin and because this region is relatively flat, each line represents a five-foot interval. In this case they’re spaced relatively far apart, indicating it’s a flat area approximately two hundred yards long by a hundred-fifty yards wide. Does that jive with what you observed, Agent VanGotten?”
“Pretty much, sir,” Ben agreed. “With the exception that there were three hummocks that should show on this map, because I would estimate their height at about eight feet. If the contours show every five-foot change in elevation, but the mounds aren’t on this map, that leads me to believe they’re not natural but were pushed up after the map was made. As best as I can remember, they were located here, here, and here.” Ben pointed out the three locations, and he mentally kicked himself again for having forgotten to take a notebook with on his recon mission.
Major Jensen thought about what Ben said. “Chances are what you saw are disguised bunkers. I think we might be walking into a well-designed field of enfilade fire. The three mounds roughly form a triangle, and I can easily visualize a squad being trapped in a crossfire. Because of the site selection, the layout of the buildings, and the probable redoubts, it looks as though we’re facing an opponent who has been trained in setting up firebases, probably ex-military. I’d stake my rank on that. We’re up against professionally trained people.” He pondered his own words.
Director Benton broke the silence. “Well, Major, I’ll follow your lead on the plan, but in my opinion we should think of taking full advantage of the lay of the land. My guess is, they’re hoping we make an all-out attack from the road. Do you think we can follow these ridges and come in from the north and south, catch them in a pincer move?”
Ben watched to see what the major’s response would be, and it gave him hope when he saw the man considering what Benton had proposed. “No.” Jensen shook his head. “I think they would like us to consider what you said, come up the ridges. That’s where they’ll be lying in wait.”
Ben thought this was shaping up to be like a page from a magazine he read when he was a kid. It was called “Spy vs. Spy,” a good guy in white and a bad guy in black. Otherwise the spies were identical. They were always trying to figure out each other’s moves. If I do this, he’ll do that, but he wants me to do that, so I’ll do this, but he’ll anticipate that I know he wants me to that, so I’ll do what he thinks I was going to do in the first place. He found himself caught in a maze of thoughts that circumscribed a circle. He was brought back to reality by the sound of his name.
“Ben, I asked you a question, You okay? You with us?” It was Jackie speaking. Ben looked up, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t slept for almost thirty-six hours, except for a couple of catnaps before everyone got here. What did you ask?”
Jackie restated her question. “How wet are these low areas between the ridges?”
Ben was with her. “Pretty dry this time of the year. In the spring, after the thaw, they would be almost impossible to walk through, but we haven’t had any significant rain for two weeks and they’re dry, at least the one I went up. It was easy going, except for the brush. It gets pretty thick in those low areas.”
Preying in Two Harbors Page 23
