Under the Color of Law Page 25

  "I saw it," Sara said, opening the glove box. She grabbed Kerney's 38, checked the rounds in the cylinder, and emptied a box of ammunition in her coat pocket. "Do you think it's a setup?"

  Kerney unsnapped his holster. "It may be nothing."

  He upshifted, and tried to look inside the car. The raised hood obstructed his view. It was a late-model four-door Ford, just like the one Charlie Perry had been driving. His misgivings jumped ten notches.

  "Get down," he snapped. "I'm going to ram it."

  He gunned the engine, drove off the road, and hit the Ford at a slant.

  Airbags filled the cab, rounds blew holes in the passenger window and deflated them. He hit the gas pedal hard. Metal crinkled and snapped as he slammed the Ford further off the road. The truck lurched to a stop and Sara followed him out the driver's door and crouched with him behind the protection of a tire. Rounds peppered the Ford, shattering glass. Kerney took a quick look inside and saw a body slumped awkwardly in the driver's seat.

  Blood splatter stained the windshield. He sneaked another look at the trees, took fire, and spotted the shooter's position.

  "There's a dead man in the car. The shooter is south of us, in the trees, half a click to the left about ten yards in. Look for the tree with the broken branch."

  Sara got a fix on the location. "Give me covering fire," she said.

  "I'll go."

  "You can't run that fast, Kerney." She moved away before he could stop her, snaking her way back to the truck.

  Kerney followed her, ducked behind the open truck door, reached up, and cut away the deflated airbag from the steering wheel with a pocket knife.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I can drive faster than you can run," he said.

  "You cover me." He pulled out spare magazines and stuffed them in his

  back pocket.

  "We both go," Sara said.

  Kerney looked at her hard, ready to argue.

  "We don't have time for this, Kerney," Sara snapped. "Take the right flank."

  "Okay." He levered the driver seat back as far as it would go, crawled into it with his head below the windshield, and geared the engine into reverse.

  "Ready?"

  Sara nodded and moved back to the car. A bullet took out another window in the Ford. Kerney hit the accelerator, raised up, spun the wheel, and headed for the wire stock fence, firing out the driver's-side window in the direction of the trees.

  Sara ran zigzag around the trunk of the car to the fence line. Rounds dug into the snow inches away from her. Kerney rammed his way through the fence. Sara crawled under the wire, firing as she went. She got up and started running in a low crouch.

  Kerney closed on the sniper's position. The front wheels dipped into a trench and the driver's-side mirror blew apart. He wheeled the truck, hit the brakes, and heard bullets dig into steel. He bailed out, looking for Sara. He saw only her tracks in the snow. He called to her and got no answer. He slammed in a fresh magazine, crawled under the truck, and scanned for any sight of her. A single rifle shot rang out.

  "Sara," Kerney yelled.

  He saw her rise up out of the trench a hundred feet away and start running for a tree. He emptied the magazine at the sniper and loaded another clip. Sara made it to cover and pointed at the tree closest to Kerney. She pulled off two rounds and kept firing while Kerney sprinted forward.

  He slid headfirst behind the. tree, emptied the magazine at the shooters position, fed in another clip, and looked at Sara. She patted her chest and pointed ahead, signaling her next move. Kerney shook his head and watched helplessly as she reloaded and crawled away from cover. He pumped rounds and watched as she disappeared from sight into the grove.

  Everything got quiet. The tree with the broken branch was dead ahead. He looked for movement. Every muscle in his body tensed as he searched for a hard target.

  "It's clear," Sara called.

  Kerney stayed zeroed in on the tree until Sara stepped out and waved him in. He found her standing over Applewhite's body. There was a bullet hole in her leg, but the killing shot had come from the rifle Applewhite had stuck in her mouth.

  "Meet Elaine Cornell," Sara said.

  "She was hard core to the end. Let's get out of here."

  They drove back to the Ford. The man in the front seat was Charlie

  Perry. He had a nasty hole in his left temple.

  "So that's Charlie Perry," Sara said. "What's he doing here?"

  "I think he was supposed to play patsy," Kerney said.

  She reached inside the shattered car window, grabbed the microphone, and keyed it.

  "Listen up, you bastards," she said. "Elaine Cornell is dead, Agent Perry is dead. If you want more, bring it on."

  She smiled sweetly at the incredulous look on Kerney's face and tossed the microphone inside the car. A helicopter came out of the forest and veered away. Sara's cell phone rang. She dug it out of an inside pocket.

  "Maybe they're calling in their regrets," Kerney said.

  "Let's hope so."

  Kerney waited impatiently, watched the chopper until it moved over the Zuni Mountains, then gave the truck a quick look-over. The bumper was crumpled, a headlight shattered, and the grill was pushed in. There were scratches on the hood and bullet holes in a front fender, door, and

  window.

  "I've been ordered back to Fort Leavenworth," Sara said with amusement. She dropped the phone in a pocket and brushed snow off the front of her jeans. "The Pentagon wants a peacekeeping mission drawn up. Seems there's trouble brewing somewhere in Africa."

  "Do you believe that?" Kerney asked as he checked the engine for damage. It seemed intact.

  "Does that thing run?" Sara asked.

  "It better."

  Sara nodded in agreement.

  "It's not unusual for the school to prepare tactical plans and operational field doctrines for peacekeeping missions. Geopolitical assessments based on proposed strategic military deployments have to be factored in if the mission is going to succeed."

  "Really?" Kerney said as he cut away the deflated passenger's-side airbag. The road was clear in both directions.

  "But do you believe it?"

  "Why shouldn't I?" Sara said innocently.

  "Aren't you interested in geopolitics and military field doctrine?"

  "I'm deeply interested. Tell me about it while I drive."

  Sara slid onto the seat. "No, I'd just be babbling."

  "Babble all you want," Kerney said as he pulled onto the highway.

  "After what just happened, I need the distraction."

  Sara prattled a little and Kerney asked stupid questions. Several miles down the road they found Bobby Sloan's body inside the Bronco and their survivors' euphoria vanished.

  Chapter 14

  In the courthouse basement Tim Ingram got word of Applewhite's screw-up and went into damage-control overdrive. He ordered the chopper pilot and the surveillance team on the scene to shut down the highway in both directions--nothing in, nothing out. Kerney and Sara Brannon were to be held in protective custody.

  He called the commander at Kirtland Air Force Base, invoked a Defense Department intelligence directive, and ordered the immediate dispatch of a security forces unit and a munitions team to the Ramah highway.

  They were to relieve personnel on-site, secure the area, establish roadblocks, and remove all bodies and vehicles ASAP.

  Helicopters took off with two combat control teams. Vehicles and heavy equipment rolled with munitions experts onboard.

  By phone Ingram gave the base public-information officer a press release cover story. All news outlets were to be advised of an accident involving a military armament shipment on the Ramah highway during a heavy snow storm. Cleanup crews were en route. There was no danger to the public. Motorists were cautioned to detour around the area or expect long delays.

  At computer consoles, team members sent top-secret encrypted messages to the White House and the Pentagon, conveyed satellite ph
otographs of the failed hit to the Defense Intelligence Agency, forwarded Applewhite's recorded radio traffic to the National Security Agency, and transmitted Ingram's contingency plan to army intelligence.

  Ingram fired off his own quick status report: assignment blown, nontarget police officer killed, field operative dead, containment teams en route, advise no further action. He ordered up an air force chopper, told the team to shut everything down, and hauled ass to the airport.

  ***

  The Bronco had landed on its right side. The seat belt had kept Bobby Sloan's body from sliding down to the passenger window. Shards from the blown-out windshield glimmered in the dark blood pool that coated the glass. Weapons, flashlights, and equipment had broken loose from mounting racks and were strewn about the cab. Clipped to the windshield visor was a photograph of Bobby's wife, which he always carried with him as a good-luck charm.

  Kerney reached through the windshield, pulled out Sloan's briefcase, and went through it with blood-sticky fingers. He found Bobby's surveillance log, tore it up, and watched as the wind scattered the pieces. He tossed the case back inside the vehicle and kept his eyes off Bobby's face as he yanked out the on-board laptop, stomped on it, and spun it into the trees out of sight.

  "What are you doing?" Sara asked.

  Heartsick, Kerney shook his head.

  "I don't know." He felt deflated, angry, helpless. He kicked a piece of the shattered laptop away, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

  "It's over. It ends right here."

  He pulled out his cell phone.

  "I'm calling it in. Bobby, Applewhite, Perry--the whole stinking mess."

  Sara stepped up to Kerney and gripped his arm to stop him.

  "Lets think this through."

  Kerney didn't want to hear it. "We're outgunned, outmanned, and outmaneuvered."

  "We've got company," Sara said.

  He looked over his shoulder and tensed. Two men in camouflage fatigues came out of the woods carrying assault rifles. They crossed the road in a disciplined, perfect tandem, weapons at the ready.

  Sara reached into her pocket and wrapped her hand around the 38.

  Kerney judged the distance to the nearest cover, snaked his hand inside his jacket, and grasped the semiautomatic.

  One of the men called out, "Chief Kerney, Colonel Brannon, step away from each other and put your hands in the air where we can see them. Chief Kerney, slowly turn to face me. Do it now."

  "What do you think?" Kerney whispered.

  "We better do as they say," she whispered back.

  "Do it now!" the man ordered.

  "I'm sorry I got you into this," Kerney said as he turned and clasped his hands at the back of his neck.

  Sara took her empty hands out of her pockets. "Let's see what these gentlemen want before you start apologizing."

  ***

  Ingram flew over the westbound convoy on the Interstate. A troop transport, two flatbeds, an ambulance, a container truck, and a big-rig tow-truck were moving in close formation, led by a Hummer with flashing lights.

  Ingram waited for his orders to come in by encrypted radio relay. If the removal sanction remained in effect, could he do it? Instructions came through to contain and suppress if possible. Ingram looked out the cockpit window and smiled.

  In his headset Ingram caught chopper traffic as the two Special Ops teams arrived at the scene and blocked the highway. He listened to pilots bark off-load orders as team members dropped into intercept positions at the few dirt roads that fed onto the highway.

  On approach he had the pilot make a run down the five-mile containment area. They flew over the mountain pass roadblock, over Kerney and Sara Brannon under guard next to the Bronco, past the line of special-ops airmen guarding side roads, past Charlie Perry in the shot-up car, and on to the western roadblock.

  Ingram ordered his chopper back to the Bronco. The pilot put the bird down on the highway. Ingram walked through deep snow to Kerney and Sara Brannon. Both were cuffed, hands at their backs. He had the cuffs removed and sent the guards out of earshot.

  He looked at them for a long minute before speaking. Kerney's jaw muscles were torqued together. Sara Brannon's eyes questioned him, but she gave no sign of recognition.

  "Shouldn't you be on your way back to Fort Leavenworth, Colonel?" Ingram asked.

  "I was just leaving," Sara replied.

  "That may still be possible," Ingram said. A cold wind blew against his neck. He turned up his collar. "But first, tell me what you know."

  "I know one of my officers has just been murdered," Kerney replied sharply.

  "Make this easy on yourself, Chief," Ingram said wearily.

  "I'll ask the questions. How did you ID me?"

  Kerney stared hard at Ingram before replying.

  "You were named as the source who confirmed that Applewhite was FBI."

  "Who passed on the information to you ?"

  "A friend of mine."

  "Does he have a name?" Ingram asked sharply.

  "Chief Baca of the state police."

  "Did Chief Baca assist you in any other way?"

  "No."

  Ingram took in the answer without comment and glanced at the Bronco. "Why did you put a tail on Agent Applewhite?"

  "Last night I discovered who you and Applewhite really are," Kerney said. "Once I knew she was operating covertly, I decided to have her watched."

  "You suspected her?"

  "Get real, Ingram," Kerney snapped. "The woman just tried to murder us, and I've got a dead officer your people killed inside the Bronco. Of course I suspected her."

  Ingram stuffed his cold hands into his coat pockets.

  "Why did you visit Proctor Straley?"

  "I wanted to find out if Applewhite had any connection to the Gatlin killing."

  "And?" Ingram asked.

  "Straley had no information. He accepts what he's been told."

  "Who else besides Detective Sloan was helping you?"

  Either Ingram didn't have a clue that he and Charlie Perry had also been under surveillance, or he was trying to give Kerney an out.

  "Nobody," Kerney said.

  Ingram nodded as though Kerney had given the right answer. "Are you willing to walk away from this and not look back?"

  "What will it take for us to do that?" Sara asked. "All that you know about SWAMI can never be revealed, discussed, or made public.

  The same applies to your investigation into the Terrell-Mitchell homicides. You will state this in writing and sign a binding, confidential document. Should you choose to go public on either of these matters, you will both be arrested and charged with the illegal possession of government secrets and obstructing a federal investigation. At the very least it will end both of your careers."

  "What else?" Kerney asked.

  "You must turn over all information gathered during your probe, and stop any further investigation into the death of Randall Stew art. You will acknowledge as accurate and conclusive the FBI findings of the Phyllis Terrell homicide investigation."

  Kerney eyed the Bronco.

  "How do you propose to make Bobby Sloan's murder go away?"

  "Let's say that you asked Detective Sloan to meet with you in Ramah to participate in the Proctor Straley interview. Bad weather delayed his travel and an accident occurred involving a military munitions vehicle. Unfortunately, the detective was killed in the collision."

  "You can make that scenario happen?" Kerney asked.

  "In a very short time it will happen."

  "What about Applewhite and Perry?" Kerney asked.

  "They were never here," Ingram replied.

  "What if we don't agree to your terms?" Sara asked.

  "The scenario regarding Detective Sloan's death is flexible, Colonel," Ingram said. "Two more victims can easily be added, if necessary."

  "Even if we walk now," Sara said, "what assurance do we have that your decision won't be overturned by a higher command authority?"

&nbs
p; Ingram smiled thinly. "I believe you've been given some cause to trust me in this matter, Colonel."

  "I have," Sara said, "but it's not you I'm worried about."

  "Any further contemplated action will be based on my debriefing. I doubt you'll have any reason to worry."

  "That's good enough for me," Sara said.

  Ingram gave Sara a brief smile and turned to Kerney.

  "Do we have an agreement?"

  Kerney nodded stiffly.

  "Very well." Ingram switched his gaze back to Sara. "A word of caution, Colonel. When you return to Fort Leavenworth be very careful about what you do and say."

  He motioned to the guards, who came forward and escorted Kerney and Sara to his helicopter. He heard the distant sound of the convoy on the road and walked to meet the lead vehicle. The Hummer stopped. He gave the officer his instructions, climbed into the chopper, and told the pilot

  to head for Santa Fe.

  ***

  Kerney and Sara read and signed the binding agreement while Ingram looked on. At his cottage Kerney helped Ingram carry case material and evidence to his car. He watched Ingram arrange boxes neatly inside the trunk, and wondered why the rear license-plate lights were broken. He handed Ingram the last box filled with Father Mitchell's videotapes.

  Ingram stuck it in the trunk and closed the lid.

  "Tell me one thing," Kerney said.

  "What started all the killing?"

  Ingram hesitated and looked away. "A floppy disk."

  "Stolen?"

  "I didn't say that," Ingram got behind the wheel.

  "But think about your question, Kerney. Where did it all start?"

  Kerney nodded. "Who was the triggerman?"

  Ingram gave Kerney a tight smile. "Don't you mean trigger person?"

  "I guess I do." Kerney smiled back.

  "No more questions," Ingram said.

  "When do I get my truck back?"

  "Soon," Ingram said, cranking the engine. After Ingram drove away, Kerney carefully checked cottage and grounds for wiretaps, bugs, and cameras. Everything apparently had been removed.

  Unwilling to risk the possibility he'd overlooked something, Kerney took Sara to the hotel in his police vehicle. At the reception desk he upgraded from the junior suite to an executive suite and tipped a porter to fetch Sara's luggage.