Code of Honor

Chapter Thirty-four

Lucinda answered her private line, expecting the call to be the technician in the communications center answering her priority request for a trace on Cam’s recent calls. Instead, the White House operator said, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Ms. Washburn, but I have a caller who insists on speaking to the president about a matter of national security. She says she’s a federal agent, but she won’t give me an identification number.”

Lucinda sighed. “Tell her you’ll connect her to the Secret Service—”

“Yes, ma’am. I offered that, but she said it had to do with Deputy Director Roberts, and I—”

“All right, I’ll take care of it.” Lucinda switched on the recorder attached to her phone. “Put her through and scramble the line, please.”

“Of course.”

A faint click was followed by silence.

“This is Lucinda Washburn. Who is this?”

“Special Agent Loren McElroy.”

“Why are you calling?”

“I have reason to believe Deputy Director Roberts has been ambushed and taken prisoner by a paramilitary organization that goes by the name of FALA, and I thought I ought to start at the top. We don’t have a lot of time to cut through red tape.”

“Can you verify your identity?” Lucinda made notes on a yellow legal pad as she spoke, even though the tape was running. She might find it necessary to erase the tape. She used a shorthand code she’d created years ago, one no one was likely to identify as anything other than aimless doodling.

“I could give you the names of some people who would vouch for me, but it would take some time,” McElroy said, “and I’m not sure exactly who can be trusted. Roberts was out here to meet with an undercover agent, looking for leads in some case that had to do with the militia operating in this area. The meet was compromised and they’re both missing. At least one of them has been wounded.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Because I’ve been undercover for two and a half years and my…handler is the agent who met with Roberts.”

“Give me your location.”

“That’s not going to help you any. You’ve probably already tracked Roberts’s last known location. I’m no closer to them than that, but I think I know where they’re being held. At least the general vicinity.”

“Tell me.”

“Here are the coordinates of the last meeting I had with members of the militia. My guess is they’re somewhere within a fifty-mile radius.”

Lucinda jotted down the coordinates. “That’s a lot of area to cover.”

“It’s worse than it seems. That’s undeveloped, densely forested land, and you can be certain they’ve done everything possible to camouflage their location. How long do you think it will take you to get some kind of aerial surveillance?”

“Not long.”

“Did they give you a deadline for whatever it is they want?”

Lucinda hesitated. Every instinct told her this agent was being truthful. No one should know the things she knew, and the people who had taken Cam had no reason to try a ruse. They already held all the cards, and they knew it.

“About nine hours, now. What about the agent who was taken with Director Roberts?”

“FBI. Skylar Dunbar. You probably won’t find much on her.”

“How many people know she’s missing?”

“As far as I know, just me and her partner in LA. I don’t think he’s completely trustworthy.”

“Name?”

“Dan Bussy.”

“Is there a number where I can reach you?”

“Hold on. This number will be good for tonight.”

Lucinda jotted it down. “I’ll call you in an hour. Stay available, and if you discover anything at all, call me.”

“Fine. But listen—FALA is well organized and well trained, but they’re basically fanatics. You can’t trust anything they tell you. If they don’t get what they want or even think they won’t, they won’t have any compulsion against killing hostages.”

“I understand.”

“Is there any possibility you’ll be able to meet whatever demands they’ve made?”

Lucinda was silent.

“Then you have to find Sky and Roberts quickly. As soon as FALA figures out you’re not going to play ball, they’re going to make a statement, and what better way to do that than with two dead federal agents.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

The line went dead and Lucinda switched over for another call. She reached the director of the FBI after three rings. “Mike, this is Lucinda Washburn. I need everything you have on a Skylar Dunbar, and I need you to pull an agent from the field and hold him for debriefing. No communication.” She waited for the objection she knew would be coming. “I’m sorry, it’s not something I can read you in on right now. The name is Dan Bussy. As soon as I can—yes. Thank you.”

She hesitated, knowing she needed to brief Andrew. She made another call first. “Blair? We think we know where she might be. We’re going to have some difficulties getting to her, however.”

*

“We’ve got trouble,” Hooker said when Russo returned his urgent call.

“What is it now?”

“Graves just contacted me—they have a situation, and they want the money now.”

“What situation?”

“He wouldn’t say exactly, so I hit up my contact at the sheriff’s. The details are sketchy, but it seems there’s some snafu with a missing federal agent.”

Russo stiffened. “They couldn’t be that stupid. Here? They wouldn’t try something like this on their own land?”

“If they’ve killed a federal agent, they’re going to bring the ATF, FBI, and Homeland down on us like a fucking monsoon. It’s going to be raining feds.”

“We need to distance ourselves, and we need to end this quickly.” Russo thought furiously. If Graves and his people were in danger of being arrested, they would eventually give up Hooker, and that was too close to him to be tolerated. The only way he could be sure no one implicated him was to silence anyone in danger of arrest before they could talk. “What would happen if the Renegades were to discover that Graves was setting them up? That the whole gun deal was a ruse to entrap the Renegades, and that Graves was in bed with the ATF?”

“The Renegades would be out for blood—they’d go after Graves and burn his place to the ground.” Hooker paused. “That would get us clear.”

“Can we provide the Renegades with the incentive to do our work for us?”

“I might be able to get my guy in the sheriff’s department to drop around to their bar and mention a rumor of a big bust in the making. Something to do with guns. That ought to get their attention.”

“Good. Tell Graves you have his money.”

*

As soon as Blair finished talking to Lucinda, she called the number Valerie had given her. “Lucinda’s had contact with an agent who might know where Cam is located.”

“You understand that I have no jurisdiction.”

“I don’t care about jurisdiction. You have power, and that’s what matters. I don’t care about breaking rules. If someone has to be responsible, then I will be.”

“That’s not necessary,” Valerie said. “Give me whatever information you have.”

Blair relayed the few solid facts she had, but even doing that much made her feel as if she were closer to Cam. Until this moment, Cam could have been anywhere, somewhere beyond her reach, and the disorienting sensation of being disconnected from her was as debilitating as if her life’s blood were draining away. Now, just knowing that there was something they could do, someplace they could begin to look, returned some of the strength to her wooden limbs. She felt warm for the first time in hours.

“That’s a pretty big area to—”

“Bullshit. You can find a terrorist in a cave in the mountains in Afghanistan. There must be a way to find her in a forest in Idaho.”

“There are things we can do in Afghanistan we can’t do here.”

“Listen to me. I don’t care what you have to do. They’re terrorists, and they haven’t given us any choice. We can’t negotiate with them, but we can’t let them control us, either. Call it anything you want, but you find her. Do you hear me, Valerie? You find her.”

“If anyone ever asks you, you knew nothing about what was happening.”

“Do you think I care about that?”

“No, I don’t,” Valerie said softly. “But I can guarantee that Cameron would want you protected. And I’m doing this for her as much as for you.”

“I know. That’s why I called you.”

*

Loren pulled a Buster Brown Ale out of the small refrigerator she kept in her shop, popped the cap off against the edge of the counter, and took a long swallow. She hadn’t had anything to eat all day and had no appetite. She hadn’t smoked in a decade, but she longed for a cigarette. Something to do with her hands. Sky was out there, possibly hurt, definitely in danger, and she didn’t know where to begin looking. She hated to be dependent upon others when something crucial was at stake. And something very crucial was at stake.

When she’d been in the service, she’d been tight with her platoon, but she’d never made significant attachments. Not because she feared losing them, but because she knew she could be most effective if she kept apart, if she moved in the shadows, if she adapted to circumstances like the chameleon she so easily became. After a while, keeping her distance not only came naturally, it was essential to survival.

All that had vanished when she met Sky. She hadn’t managed to keep a single barrier between her and Sky. She’d been naked with her, on every level. Sky had touched her—heart, body, and soul. She needed her back to keep the structure of her world from collapsing. She had to find her.

Her cell rang and she checked the readout, hope a palpable weight in her chest. Just as quickly, her heart plummeted when she saw Ramsey’s number. Not Sky.

“Hey, boss.”

“How fast can you get those guns up here?”

“Here?” Loren’s mind started scrambling. What the hell was going on—what was the rush? The militia must have pushed for an earlier exchange. It must have something to do with Sky.

“McElroy?”

“Sorry—just figuring. I can make some calls—if we rode out soon, six of us and a truck, we could make it round-trip in six hours. But a crew that big on the road would be obvious.”

“You won’t need that big a crew. You’re not picking them all up. Just a quarter of the shipment.”

“Okay. Then wha—”

“You, Quincy, and Armeo will go. Jetter in the truck. You’ll take the guns to the original rendezvous point for the exchange.”

Loren’s breath slowed. “Up in the Bitterroots?”

“That’s right,” Ramsey said. “And we’re going to tag along and convince our militia friends to take us home with them.”

“How many of us?”

“All of us,” Ramsey said. “Now get your ass over here and pick up the boys.”

“Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”

Loren didn’t have time to wait for Washburn’s return call. Her blood rushed with the thrill of the hunt. Now she had the quarry in her sights. The militia would lead her right to Sky and Roberts. Then all she had to do was keep them all alive and find a way out. She grabbed her leather jacket and punched in the number for the White House.