Jack Keller Box Set, page 64
A look of shock crossed her face for a moment, then she re-formed her features into the impassive mask. “I’m sorry to hear that, Ben,” she said. She looked up at Marie. “You’d better come in,” she said. She straightened up, walked to the gate and swung it open. “Welcome to Camp Phoenix,” she said formally.
They looked at each other, then preceded her through the gate. “Lisa,” Powell said, “Mike was with us…”
“I know,” she said shortly. “He’s fine. I sent him to the mess hall.” Then, unexpectedly, she grinned. The smile made her look almost impish. “Boy,” she said, “was he surprised when I took him down!”
“Wait a minute,” Powell said. “You took him down?”
Lisa looked smug. “You betcha,” she said. “Things have changed a lot around here since you guys were here last.”
“Looks like it,” Powell said. His face split into a grin. “Man,” he said, “am I going to give Mikey some shit about this.” He began to laugh. Lisa laughed along with him. Then so quickly that her figure seemed to blur, she dropped to the ground in a curious twisting motion. One leg came around viciously and swept Powell’s feet from beneath him. He gave a startled yelp as he crashed heavily to the ground. He looked up dumbfounded at Lisa, who had sprung back to her feet and was smiling wickedly down at him.
“Now you’ve both got something to laugh about,” she said brightly.
Keller bent down and helped Powell to his feet. Powell looked furious for a moment, then he chuckled. “Pretty good, Lise,” he said ruefully. “I underestimated you.” His face hardened. “But you won’t get a chance like that again.”
“I only need one,” she said. She turned and began walking again.
As they walked across the commons, Keller noticed that the log houses on either side were boarded up. Padlocks fastened every door. They drew even with the flagpole. Keller glanced up. The American flag was hanging upside down in the symbol of distress. The sight stopped him in his tracks. “What’s the emergency?” he asked.
She followed his gaze, then looked at him stonily. “You must not have been paying attention the last thirty years or so.” She swung open the door of the large building. “Come on in,” she said. “Dad’ll want to talk to you.”
They stepped inside, into a large room. The only illumination was provided by the sunlight coming in through the high windows down either side of the room. At the far end of the room, interior serving windows opened into a kitchen.
A long wooden table ran down the center of the room, with wooden chairs on either side. The table was long enough to seat twenty people, but only two of the chairs were occupied. Riggio sat at one of them, eating from a wooden bowl. The smell of meat and broth reached Keller, and his stomach growled. The man sitting across the table from Riggio stood up.
He was tall and slender, almost gaunt, with a face lined and seamed from years of wind and weather. Beneath that, however, his chiseled features and high cheekbones spoke strongly of Native American ancestry. His eyes were a piercing blue. His jet-black hair was streaked with silver, hanging halfway down his back in a long ponytail. He stood before them for a moment, looking them up and down. His face was as impassive as Lisa’s. Keller felt as uncomfortable under that sharp gaze as a recruit on his first inspection. Finally, the man held out his hand to Powell. “Good to see you back, Bobby,” he said. His voice was deep and soft, but there was the promise of steel beneath it. This was a man to whom command of other men was as natural as breathing.
“Thank you, sir,” Powell said as he took the man’s hand. “I’m sorry to impose on you like this, but…”
“I’ll decide later whether you’re imposing,” the man said. “For now,” he gestured toward the serving windows at the back of the room, “there’s stew in the kitchen. Venison. It’s fresh.”
“Colonel,” Powell said, “we need to tell you…”
The man waved him off. “Eat first. Then we talk.”
Powell nodded and headed for the back of the room. The man turned his gaze back to Keller. Keller had to fight the impulse to salute. Instead, he held out his hand. “I’m Jackson Keller, sir,” he said.
The man took it. “Nate Harland.” He looked at Marie, who stepped forward. “Marie Jones, sir,” Harland gently took her hand in his and bowed slightly. It was an archaic gesture, almost medieval in its formality. He released Marie’s hand, then bent down and took a knee so he could look Ben in the eye.
“Are you an Indian?” Ben blurted out. Marie put her hand warningly on his shoulder, but Harland only smiled.
“My father’s mother was Tsalagi,” he said, “what white men called the Cherokee. My mother’s grandfather was, too. My father’s father was Irish, though, and my mother’s grandmother was a lady from Scotland. What do you suppose that makes me?”
The boy looked confused. “I don’t know,” he said uncertainly.
“American,” Harland said.
Ben gestured to where Lisa was standing. “That girl there says you’re her dad.”
Harland looked at her and smiled again. “I am. In a way.”
“What way?” Ben insisted.
“Ben!” Marie said. “Stop being nosy.”
Harland laughed and stood up. “I’ll tell you the story later, Ben,” he said. “Now, I bet a fellow like you, who’s been doing some hard traveling, has got to be hungry. Am I right?” Ben nodded. “You ever eaten deer meat?” Harland asked him.
“Oh yeah,” Ben said, “Lots of times. My grandpa hunts deer. My mom used to.”
Harland looked at Marie appraisingly. “That so?” he said. He smiled and gestured back toward the kitchen.
“Help yourselves. More where that came from.” He went to the door. “We’ll be back in bit,” he told them. He looked at Lisa and gestured slightly with his chin. She followed him, casting a worried look over her shoulder at them.
“I hope we haven’t gotten her in trouble,” Marie said.
“Nah,” Riggio said. “Believe me, we’d be hearing it now if he was going to dress her down. He’s probably just getting her report.”
“Report?” Marie said, “She’s his daughter!”
“She’s also a soldier, at least as far as he’s concerned,” Riggio said. He laughed. “In fact, from the looks of things, she’s his whole damn army.”
“Where are all the people?” Keller wondered. “It looks like this place was built for at least a hundred.”
“It was,” Riggio replied. “Harland had a regular little village going up here at one point, waiting for the end of the world. But,” he shrugged, “civilization didn’t collapse.”
“Oh, didn’t it?” Lisa said as she reentered the room. “So why exactly are you people up here? What are you running from?”
“And, more important,” Harland said as he followed her in, “what are the chances that you’re going to bring it here to us?”
They looked at each other. Marie looked at Ben. Harland followed her gaze.
“Lisa,” he said. “Take the boy outside. Show him around the camp.”
“Sir,” she began to protest.
“You’ll be briefed on all the information I get,” he said. The words were reassuring but the command in the voice was unmistakable. She stood up, her face stony. “Yes, sir,” she said. She extended a hand to Ben and smiled. “C’mon, Ben,” she said, “You want to see a waterfall?”
Ben looked dubiously at his mother, who nodded at him. “Go with Lisa, Ben,” she said. “I’ll be out to get you in a little bit.” Ben left with her, still clutching the stuffed frog to his chest.
“Now,” Harland said as they walked out, “Since no one’s volunteered to lead this briefing, looks like I’ll need to pick a volunteer.” He looked at Keller. “Mister Keller,” he said. “What’s going on here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DeGroot punched the numbers into his cell phone. On the second ring, he got the usual numerical response.
He engaged in no pleasantries. “What do you have for me?” he said.
“It wasn’t easy,” the voice said.
“If it was easy,” DeGroot replied, “I could have gotten anyone to do it.”
“The fact that I was nosing around those files…there may be questions.”
“Give me what you’ve found, or there won’t be any questions. Or any doubts in anyone’s mind.”
A sigh on the other end. “All right. The Agency has an asset in the area you described. An old cabin. They bought it from the Parks Ser vice in the eighties when the service decommissioned one of the old fire watchtowers.”
“And what,” DeGroot asked, “did the Agency want with an old cabin in the mountains?”
“It was a place to take defectors for questioning. Isolated. Quiet.”
“Easily defensible.”
“Probably.”
“Their unit used it for an exercise a few years ago. They ran a simulated attack and hostage rescue there.”
“How’d they do?”
“According to the after-action report, brilliantly.”
“So they might have gone back there,” DeGroot mused.
“They’ll be ready for you,” the voice warned.
DeGroot heard a car pull up outside the motel room.
He moved the curtain aside as a red Corvette pulled into the parking lot. Danny Patrick was behind the wheel. DeGroot waved. “They won’t be ready for what I’m bringing them,” he said. He snapped the phone shut.
***
When Keller was finished, Harland looked around the table. “Anyone have anything to add?” he said. No one said anything for a moment. Then Marie spoke up.
“Sir,” she said, “I know you don’t know us. You don’t have any reason to trust either Mr. Keller or myself.” She took a deep breath. “But believe me when I tell you, the man following us is a monster.”
“I believe you,” Harland said gently. “Trust me, Miss Jones, I know better than most men what monsters there are in this world. But you may have brought this one to my doorstep.”
Riggio spoke up. “He’s only one man, Colonel. And I don’t think he knows anything about this place.”
Harland smiled tightly. “One man?” he said. “Never underestimate what one man, properly motivated, can do. You and Sergeant Powell should know that. It’s an article of your faith.”
“Please, Colonel,” Marie said, her voice nearly breaking “That man tried to kill my son. I’m afraid if he catches us…” Her voice did break then. She looked down at the table and ran the back of her hand over her eyes.
Harland stood up. “I’m not making a decision this second,” he said. “It’ll be dark soon. Even if I decide you can’t stay, I won’t send you out on that road in the dark.” He walked over to a cabinet against one wall and opened it. Inside the cabinet was a board studded with hooks. A variety of keys hung from the hooks. “You can bunk in the empty cabins,” Harland said. “They may take a bit of airing out.” He tossed a key to Riggio. “Riggio, you and Powell have number five.” He looked at Keller, then Marie. “You two are together, I take it?”
They looked at each other. They realized that each was waiting for the other to answer, and they laughed.
“Yeah,” said Keller, “we’re together.”
“And the boy?”
“He’s with us,” Keller said. Marie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Harland tossed her a key.
“Number seven,” he said, “it was built for a married couple.”
Ben came crashing back into the mess hall, followed by Lisa. He was breathless with excitement. She was bright-eyed and laughing.
“Mom,” Ben said. “There’s the coolest waterfall. It must be a hundred feet high! You gotta come see!”
“In a little while, Ben,” Marie said.
“Now,” Ben insisted. He grabbed at Marie’s hand.
Harland laughed softly. “I think you’ve been given an order, Miss Jones,” he said. “You might as well go. The waterfall’s very pretty in the sunset.”
“Lisa,” Ben said, turning to the girl, “tell them how cool it is.”
“It’s very, very cool,” Lisa said with mock gravity.
“Come on, Mom,” Ben insisted.
“I’ll take you back if you want to go,” Lisa said.
Marie looked down at Ben’s impatient face. He was so serious and determined she had to laugh. “Okay,” she said. She turned to Keller. “Jack?”
“Sure,” he said. “You guys go on. I’ll be along in a minute.”
Marie allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and out the door. Lisa followed, still laughing.
Harland’s voice was almost a whisper. “She misses the children most of all,” he said as if to himself.
“Sir,” Keller said, “what ever you decide about me, or these two,” he gestured at Powell and Riggio, “let Marie and the boy stay.”
“That’s one of the options I’m considering,” Harland said.
“Consider it real carefully,” Keller said, “Because I’ll do what ever I have to do to keep them safe. Sir.”
Harland looked at him. “Is that a threat, Mr. Keller?”
“No, sir, Colonel,” Keller said. “I just wanted you to have all the information you needed to make a good command decision.”
They stared at each other for a moment. Outside, the shadows were lengthening as the sun eased toward the peaks of the mountains. Powell and Riggio looked uncomfortably at each other. Finally, Harland broke the silence. “I’ll let you know my decision in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Keller said, “Thank you, sir.” He stood up and walked out.
Ben!” Marie called out. “Come back!”
Lisa was walking side by side with Marie, her shotgun slung across her back. She walked with an easy, confident stride over the uneven rocky ground. Now she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, hold up!” she called. Only then did Ben stop pounding down the path into the trees behind the mess hall. He stood waiting, practically vibrating with impatience.
“Oh, you he listens to,” Marie said wryly.
Lisa grinned. “He’s a lot of fun,” she said. “I’ve missed having kids around.”
“Where did everyone go?” Marie asked.
The smile vanished. “Back into the world,” she said with a trace of bitterness. “Back into the shit.”
“You didn’t go with them,” Marie said.
“I still believe in my father,” she said. “I still believe in his work.”
“Your father,” Marie said tentatively. “I couldn’t help but notice—”
Lisa chuckled. “Yeah. I’m adopted.”
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s not a problem.” They had entered the woods now. Ben was a few feet ahead of them on the trail, zigzagging back and forth. “My birth father and Colonel Harland fought together in Vietnam. After the war, things got pretty nasty for my folks. The government treated everyone who’d fought on the American side…Well, it got pretty bad. Colonel Harland and some of the other men who’d fought with them worked hard to get them out of Vietnam and over here. My birth father was the only one of the family who made it.”
“I’m sorry,” Marie said.
Lisa shrugged. “It all happened before I was born. Anyway, my birth father came to America, got married again, and opened a convenience store. Two weeks after I was born, he and my mother were shot to death by an armed robber.”
“I’m sorry,” Marie said again. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Like I said,” Lisa replied, “I don’t remember any of it. Dad…Colonel Harland…had promised my birth father he’d take care of his family if anything happened. He adopted me. I’ve lived up here all my life.”
“What was it like?”
“It was a great place to grow up,” Lisa said. “There were lots of people around, woods to play in…sure better than living down in the shit.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why anybody would want to live like that,” she said.
“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Marie asked.
“Here we are,” was Lisa’s only answer.
Marie looked. They had come out of the trees to a broad ledge of rock. A massive stone overhang, the size of a small building, loomed to their right. A fast-running stream had a groove into the rock, through which it shot out like a horizontal geyser, tumbling down the sheer rock face below. Ben stood at the lip of the ledge, looking over to where the rushing water disappeared from view. Marie’s heart leapt into her throat.
“Best step back a bit, buddy,” Lisa said calmly. “Long way down.”
Ben complied with obvious reluctance. “Come see, Mom,” he said. Marie stepped to him and looked cautiously over. The water roared and hissed and tumbled through the air until it smashed against the stone a hundred feet below, exploding into a cloud of mist before continuing its journey down to the valley below.
“Isn’t it cool?!” Ben said.
“It’s gorgeous,” Marie said truthfully.
“Can we stay, Mom?” Ben said.
“I hope so,” Marie said. “But you’ve got to promise never to come here without a grown-up. You might fall.”
“I won’t fall,” Ben said.
“Promise,” Marie insisted.
“Okay, okay,” Ben said. He brightened. “I can get Lisa to bring me. Right, Lisa? Right?”
Lisa laughed. “Sure, kiddo,” she said. “Any time.”
***
Holley squinted into the late-afternoon sun. The day’s hangover had subsided somewhat, but the sun’s rays still made his head hurt. He reached over and fumbled the glove compartment open. The road climbing into the mountains had grown more winding, so it was an exercise in divided concentration to locate the last hashish-laced joint. Finally, his fingers encountered the softness of the stuffed rolling paper. He smiled. He put the joint between his lips and popped the cigarette lighter. Last one, he told himself. Then it’s show time.
The miles passed more quickly in the haze of the black Afghan hash. It began to get dark. He almost missed the turn to the town where DeGroot had told them to meet. He found that hilarious. He was laughing as he got back on the right road. Finally, after a timeless interval, he saw the lighted sign of the small motel where DeGroot had said to meet. He pulled into the parking lot. A Toyota 4 × 4 and a red Corvette were the only vehicles parked in front of the units. Holley stashed the last remains of the joint and got out of his car.
