Cold Wicked Lies

by Toni Anderson

  Nice hands.

  Capable hands.

  For the record, it wasn’t a morning thing, and it wasn’t your fault. I apologize. It won’t happen again.

  Great.

  Right?

  Although it could have been fun.

  She shut that thought down immediately. She forced herself to concentrate on the briefing, even though this part of the incident had nothing to do with her, and she was basically killing time. McKenzie had not relented. She’d heard he was a bit of a hardass, and now she knew it firsthand.

  SWAT were also doing twelve-on twelve-off shifts so they could rotate in and out of position during darkness. They were equipped with proper winter gear, but Charlotte didn’t like the idea of so many people being exposed to the elements in this remote location. If only they could get Harrison talking. Get him and his buddies out of there before the brass in control of this incident lost patience and ordered a tactical solution.

  She didn’t want to be here all winter. No one wanted to be here all winter. But, more importantly, she did not want anyone else to die.

  The SWAT guys and girls all started moving at once, half back to the motel to rest up for the day, and the other half out into the woods.

  “Watch out for the cougar,” she added. Then she frowned. They still hadn’t figured out who had told Bob Jones about the problem cat.

  “And Bigfoot,” Novak added with a grin.

  McKenzie strode in as SWAT strode out. He’d taken a call at the start of the briefing just as she’d asked him what Agent Makimi had managed to glean from the two men who’d attacked them on the mountain yesterday. Charlotte had the impression it had been President Hague on the line, not exactly someone he could blow off.

  McKenzie nodded and spoke to a few of the SWAT guys as they filed past. “Watch your backs out there. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

  Charlotte appreciated that the Incident Commander’s priority was his people’s safety. So was Novak’s, but he had so much confidence in HRT’s abilities that she worried he forgot they were human.

  “Blood, Novak, get over here.” McKenzie stood in front of one of the news channels set up on a massive computer monitor while one of the HRT guys turned up the volume. McKenzie looked at his wristwatch. “First one is due to switch…” He held his fingers up. Five. Four. Three. Two. One…

  There was the barest flicker on one of the screens.

  McKenzie looked back over his shoulder. “Think they’d notice that?”

  Charlotte realized Novak was standing beside her when he said, “I wouldn’t have thought so.”

  “They’re waiting on the commercial break before they do the next one.”

  It took ten minutes until all six of the networks that the FBI knew the men in the compound watched were being controlled remotely by the media people in HQ. Every other news channel had been blocked.

  The FBI couldn’t do this indefinitely, but they could control the narrative in the short term.

  “Okay, General Veldman, Tom Harrison’s former CO is up in the next segment. The interview won’t go out at the same time for each channel because that wouldn’t look realistic. NBC is first. Or rather, our version of NBC.” McKenzie propped himself on the work bench. He seemed surprisingly at ease in the rustic setting despite the sawdust clinging to his expensive suit pants. Charlotte had heard rumors he’d started life as a cowboy.

  “Have a seat.” Novak indicated a chair to Charlotte beside HRT’s central tables.

  She looked up, but he didn’t meet her gaze. She felt her cheeks burn in a wave of embarrassment. “Thanks.”

  Did anyone notice? Jeez, the two of them couldn’t be more awkward if they’d had blinding sex all night long rather than the barest hint of it’s-not-your-fault attraction.

  She dropped to the chair Novak suggested and then felt a widening chasm stretch between them as he went over to stand with his men.

  She swallowed the sudden tightness in her throat. She must be coming down with something to be so goddamn sensitive. She hadn’t gotten this far in the FBI by being a wimp.

  The segment they were waiting for came up on the screen. General Veldman, a retired two-star general in the United States Army, stood outside his modest California home wearing khakis and a buttoned-up polo shirt, talking to an FBI agent who was masquerading as a reporter.

  “Did General Veldman have any objections about doing this?” Charlotte asked McKenzie.

  “None I was made aware of,” McKenzie said without taking his eyes off the screen.

  The reporter made a brief introduction, spelling out the respected status of the retired military man.

  “What do you want to say to Tom Harrison, the man at the center of the armed standoff in Washington State? I believe he was under your command for five years so you must have known him well?”

  The general straightened his back and looked directly into the camera. “Tom, I don’t know what’s going on in your life right now, but I do remember how desperately you wanted to start a family and live a peaceful life.”

  “So Tom Harrison is not someone you’d expect to be involved in an incident of this nature?”

  The general shook his head. “This is not something that the Tom Harrison I knew would do. He liked to help people, not hurt them.”

  “Do you have any idea why Mr. Harrison isn’t talking to the FBI agents who want to question him regarding the death of a young woman on the mountain near his home?”

  CNU and the Behavioral Analysis Unit had crafted the script around the idea of prompting Tom to pick up the phone. Charlotte hoped they weren’t overplaying their hand.

  “The man I knew was honest and fair. He respected the rule of command and followed orders. Tom Harrison was a damn fine soldier, who always had his fellow soldiers’ welfare as top priority during training and deployment.”

  “Sounds like you think Tom Harrison is an honorable man who doesn’t present a danger to the public. What would you like to say to Mr. Harrison at this time?”

  The general pressed his lips together. “Talk to the authorities, Tom. Help them figure out what happened up there on the mountain. Nobody else needs to be hurt. Tell the truth, and everyone can go home safely in time for the holidays. If someone made a mistake then they need to pay for that mistake, nobody else. You know law enforcement are only doing their job the way we did ours. Put your weapons down and come out and talk to the authorities so no one else gets hurt. I’ll make sure you are treated fairly, even if I have to come out there myself. It’s time to tell the world your version of this story.”

  The camera shifted to the fake reporter who held up his mic and looked like he was having a damn good time. “This is Steve Perkins, signing off from California.”

  The reporter would have a complete background developed in the event someone checked him out. Not that the compound had internet anymore, but the FBI liked to be thorough.

  Silence rang around the barn as the HRT guy turned the volume back down as the news loops continued to run with General Veldman’s interview staggered on each channel.

  “How long do you think we need to wait for a reaction?” Novak addressed Charlotte.

  Charlotte opened her mouth to answer when Romano shouted, “Activity on the drone.”

  Everyone crowded around Romano’s laptop. Novak saved a space for Charlotte, and she couldn’t believe how she was suddenly hyperaware of his closeness as she inched near to his side in order to see what was happening. What had changed?

  Her attention focused on the monitor and her job.

  The door cracked open, and the man who she recognized as Tom Harrison strode past, carrying a handgun and an armload of something.

  “Shit, we should have had operators in the tunnel,” Novak muttered.

  McKenzie shook his head.

  “What’s he doing?” asked Charlotte.

  “We’ll replay the video in a moment. Get the drone through the door, Romano,” Novak spoke quickly.

&nb
sp; Romano walked the device forward. Everyone held their breath as it approached a lip but, thankfully, the drone was robust enough to climb over it, and Romano pushed the joystick hard.

  The drone seemed to be in a broom closet. Romano headed toward the light, hugging the side of the wall.

  “Turn it around and see if we can figure out what Harrison is doing. Alert the SWAT teams in the vicinity he might be coming out and he’s armed,” Novak yelled.

  “Alert SWAT but get that drone all the way inside the building. It’s more important than short term intel,” McKenzie overrode Novak’s orders.

  Charlotte noticed Novak clench his jaw, but he didn’t fight it. They probably only had a brief window to get inside.

  Romano remotely moved the drone through the broom closet into an outer corridor and did a quick three-sixty.

  “Head into the dark space. Keep her snug to the wall and watch for Harrison coming back out,” Novak commanded.

  They all held their collective breath as Romano moved the drone and then turned it to watch the entrance of the broom closet. After a few of the longest minutes of Charlotte’s life, Tom Harrison came through the doorway, shut the door, and locked it behind him. Then he leaned against the wall, cradling something in his hand. Another two men came running down the corridor, appearing out of breath, shouting for him to stop. Harrison looked up for a long, slow second and then deliberately pressed down on a detonator. The floor shook, dust filling the air.

  When the atmosphere cleared sixty seconds later, no one was left in the corridor.

  “What happened?” asked Charlotte, even though she knew.

  “He demolished the passageway.” Novak’s jaw flexed.

  “He has explosives.” Charlotte’s heart felt like a jackrabbit in her chest. She’d known it was a possibility but rather than encouraging Tom Harrison to talk to them, the interview with Veldman had made Harrison up the stakes.

  Her cell buzzed with a text.

  She checked the screen. “Someone just picked up the phone.” She looked at Novak and then bolted from the barn, the HRT team leader and Incident Commander tight on her heels. They scrambled into the Command Center and hit a wall of silence.

  She dashed past the new room dividers and threw herself into a chair beside Dominic who was busy writing notes as Eban spoke encouragingly into the phone.

  “I understand you’re concerned. We all want a peaceful end to this incident. My name is Eban Winters. Tell us what we can do to resolve this situation.” He used his most soothing voice, which reminded Charlotte of a cat purring in the way it instantly relaxed her.

  There was a sharp crack of laughter on the speaker from the other end of the line. “That’s easy. Go. Away.”

  “Is this Tom Harrison? The owner of the property? Can I confirm that’s who I’m talking to? Mr. Harrison?”

  “Yeah, this is Tom Harrison.” His voice was tired. There was a good chance he hadn’t slept the last two nights, on constant alert for an incoming attack.

  “You sound tired, Tom.”

  “I am tired, Eban. I’m tired of you people trying to attack my home. I want you all to go away.”

  “I can understand that, Tom. I can see how you’d interpret what happened as an attack, but a woman died, and shots were fired at law enforcement officers, Tom. As an honorable man, I’m surprised you don’t see it that way.”

  “Nobody cares about honor anymore.”

  “Nobody cares about honor?” Eban mirrored.

  It was the best way to get people talking and to feel understood. Repeat back the last few words of their sentence, or the most pertinent words.

  “People talk about it and then hand out medals like candy to individuals who have less honor than a sewer rat. It’s bullshit.”

  The guy wasn’t wrong.

  “I have a deep respect for anyone who has served our country the way you have.”

  “Then respect me by leaving me the hell alone and stop trying to manipulate me.”

  Eban was smart enough to leave that sentiment well alone. “We simply want to get to the bottom of the incident.”

  The incident.

  “Look, Eban, I know you’re just doing your job, and I can tell you’re good at it because I’m still on the telephone. Listen carefully to what I have to say. I have no idea what happened to the woman they found dead on the mountain. My son did not have anything to do with her death. The Federal Wildlife Officer tried to shoot TJ in the back, and one of the people who lives here defended him. TJ knows he shouldn’t have run, but he’s a kid. He was scared.”

  TJ was eighteen.

  “As for the sheriff…” Tom trailed off as if to imply the sheriff was an asshole.

  Charlotte agreed, but it was no excuse to take the law into his own hands. She wrote on a piece of paper. “Ask if we can talk to TJ over the phone?”

  “Would TJ be willing to talk us through what happened? So we can add his statement to the record. Maybe it will clear everything up, and we can go home.”

  There was a long silence, and Charlotte could tell Eban knew it wasn’t the good kind. He tried another tactic. “I’m sure if the shoe was on the other foot and it was TJ who’d come to some harm, you’d want to talk to anyone who might have information. Brenna Longie’s family have questions too.”

  Except they didn’t. The FBI had been unable to track down anyone connected to Brenna.

  Eban was really good at empathizing with people and seeing things from their point of view. It was one of his biggest strengths.

  Finally Tom spoke. “TJ’s not coming out so there’s not much point.”

  “Not much point? You said he didn’t have anything to do with the woman who died so nothing he says will be incriminating. He might be able to shed some light on events. Maybe he saw someone else or something else out there?” Eban visibly winced. He’d jumped all over his mirror, draining it of its effectiveness.

  Tom sighed. “Eban, I gave twenty of my best years to the United States. I served. I sacrificed. I don’t owe this country anything else. I certainly don’t owe it my son. All we want is to be left alone. We didn’t hurt anyone who didn’t attack us first.”

  “I promise I only want to talk to TJ. Find out what he knows.”

  “My son is not talking to anybody, because I know what will happen next. His words will get twisted, and he’ll still be a suspect. You’ll run a bunch of tests and the next thing I know, he’ll be taken away from me, and I won’t be able to protect him anymore. I’m not going to let that happen.” Tom’s voice rose and shook. “Mark my words, Eban, I will kill every person in this building before I let anyone take my son. First sign that the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team is trying to infiltrate my home, I’ll bring the whole place down on our heads. If anyone has any doubts, you should go ask General Veldman what my specialty was in his unit.”

  Charlotte tensed. Demolition had been his specialty. Now they knew he had explosives and wasn’t afraid to use them. This was definitely an escalation. She exchanged a glance with Novak. He knew it too. Tom Harrison had just threatened to kill people.

  “No one wants to see anybody get hurt, Tom,” Eban said calmly. “Is it still possible for people to leave the compound? Maybe you should encourage people to get out, especially those with young children.”

  “So they aren’t killed in the crossfire or become collateral damage?” Tom’s tone shifted, becoming more calculating.

  Eban could hear it too. She could tell from tense lines around his eyes, even though his voice remained the same calm tone. “We want to help you, Tom. We want to help everyone in your home. Please tell us how we can do that.”

  “I already told you. And one more thing, don’t bother calling back. I won’t answer.”

  The line went dead. Charlotte’s mouth went dry. Her gamble with Harrison’s commanding officer had backfired. Now everyone was in danger.

  Chapter Nineteen

  TJ lay in bed and, suddenly, the whole building shook. He froze, un
sure what to do. Was it an earthquake? Or were the Feds blasting their way inside?

  TJ leaped up and raced for the outer door, hammering on it. “Let me out! What’s happening? What’s going on?”

  He tried again, but no one answered. He hammered on the door for thirty minutes before footsteps drew him toward the inside door that led to his family’s quarters. His hand hovered over the grip of his pistol. Was it gonna be the FBI? Malcolm? He didn’t trust his uncle. His nose still throbbed from getting punched earlier. But he wasn’t ready to die either, and if he had his weapon in his hand when the Feds burst in, they would shoot first and ask questions later.

  The handle turned. When his father opened the door, TJ felt a burst of relief followed by a cascade of remorse.

  “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie or steal from you. I thought leaving was best for everyone.”

  “It wouldn’t be best for me.” Tom left the door open and walked away. TJ followed him through to the kitchen. His father switched on the tea kettle and then hunched over the wooden countertop, rings of exhaustion dragging at his eyes. TJ didn’t know the last time any of them had slept.

  “I wonder how long we’ll have electricity for?” Tom mused.

  “We have solar panels and generators,” TJ said, not understanding.

  Tom shook his head. “They can cut the lines for the solar panels whenever they want and fuel for the generators is finite.”

  “What was that explosion?” TJ asked. Surely if they were under attack, they wouldn’t be standing having this conversation.

  The edges of Tom’s mouth drooped. “Was only a matter of time until they discovered our little secret entrance. I got rid of it.”

  TJ experienced a bolt of loss. That had been his escape route, his lifeline to Kayla. “Did you tell Malcolm about it?”

  Tom shook his head. “He either found it poking around or he followed you one Wednesday morning.” His father threw him an all-knowing look.

  Shame and foolishness swept over TJ. “How long have you known?”

  Tom’s shoulder twitched. “A few months. Why didn’t you tell me about her?”