He was glad she didnt try to flounder through some guilt-ridden apology. She leveled a shaming look at him, then said quietly, Night before last I saw you get dead drunk, start a brawl and get tossed into the parking lot, remember? This room-beds all made, that squeaky-clean bathroom in there-they dont exactly go with that drunken Indian image, do they? You dont fit that image. And though her eyes narrowed in speculation when she said it, there was something else there, too-a whisper of suppressed excitement in her breathing, a certain tension in her body.
Bronco felt himself go quiet and wary. Well, now, what kind of image do you think I fit?
I dont know, she said softly, thoughtfully.
Im just a plain ol horse wrangler, Bronco muttered, turning to retrieve the rolled-up poncho so she couldnt see his eyes. Acting-playing a part-was one thing, but outright lying didnt come easy to him and never had. Believe what you want-
She broke in with a snort of anger before hed finished. Yeah, right. And this is just a horse ranch, Gil McCullough is John Wayne and Im Maureen OHara, and thats why I spent last night locked in a tack room with bars on the windows while a bunch of people I dont even know cleaned out my motel room. What do you think I am, stupid? Her voice trembled, and the tears she had yet to shed shimmered in her eyes.
No, I dont think youre stupid, Bronco said evenly as he took her arm. What he did think-about her and the whole damned mess-didnt bear looking at too closely. Time to go. Come on.
No, I dont think youre stupid, Bronco said evenly as he took her arm. What he did think-about her and the whole damned mess-didnt bear looking at too closely. Time to go. Come on.
It surprised him when she struggled against his grip, twisting to look at him. Who are you people? Whats this all about? What do you want with me?
Youll find out soon enough, he thought grimly as he hustled his captive out the door of the cottage and down the wooden steps. A whinny rose from the corrals behind the stables. His body tensed and he paused, listening. He heard nothing out of the ordinary, but a thrill of urgency rippled down his spine as he tightened his hold on her and quickened his step.
She went with him unresisting for several paces. But her voice, when she spoke again, had gone tense and quiet. Its about my father, isnt it? He didnt answer her. After a moment he heard her take a deep breath. Well, whatever you people are planning, its not going to work. My father wont let you get away with this. He wont be blackmailed, either.
This time Bronco did reply, on an exhalation that was almost prayerful. Laurie Brown, for your own sake, I sincerely hope you are mistaken.
A council of war was taking place in a seventh-floor room at the Watergate in Washington, D.C. Present were the acting U.S. attorney general, Patricia Graham; Henry Vallejo and Vernon Lee, heads of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms and the FBI, respectively; and last but not least, the former attorney general, now the top con tender for his partys nomination for president of the United States, Everett Charleton Brown, known to friends and family as Rhett.
Three of the four people in the room were seated around a table littered with coffee cups and the sort of mess created by people in the process of deciding among equally untenable options. The fourth, Rhett Brown, was up and pacing. He hadnt slept, and looked it. He knew his hair was rumpled, his tie askew, and that he needed a shower and a shave. He could have used a toothbrush, too; his mouth tasted like the bottom of a Dumpster, after too many cups of coffee and the Philly steak sandwich hed forced himself to eat late last night against his better judgment.
He looked at his watch and his heart ached. How much longer could he put off calling Dixie? Dont tell anyone, theyd said, with the usual warning of dire consequences if he disobeyed that directive. But how was he going to get through this without Dixie by his side? Hed have to tell her soon. She had a right to know. To prepare herself for the worst.
The worst. His mind slammed shut on that thought. Cold to the depths of his soul, he pivoted to face the group at the table.
Okay- he huffed out a breath and drove a hand through his hair -we know what they want. Their demand had made that clear. They wanted him out of the presidential race. They meant to keep Lauren until after the national convention, to insure that he would refuse the nomination. And after thatwhat then? He ground his teeth thinking about it. So. Lets summarize. What do we know about these people, theseSons Of Liberty? Who, where, what, why and how many.
Not, he thought, that it mattered much how many they were. Look at Oklahoma City. How many had it taken to destroy more than two hundred lives? How many would it take to kill one small person? Just one. Lolly, his precious little girl.
Pat Graham looked at him. The burnt-umber eyes that were a legacy of her African-American heritage lit with compassion. A veteran of the civil-rights struggles of the 1960s, she knew all about pain and fear and loss. Rhett couldnt imagine anyone hed rather have succeed him as attorney general, or anyone hed rather have beside him now. How many years had they worked together on the weapons-control project? Shed begged to be put on it in the beginning, he remembered, when hed considered it too inflammatory a position for a woman. With her courage and passion shed made him ashamed of that view. Illegal-weapons trafficking wasnt just a political hot-button issue to Pat Graham. Shed grown up in a south-central L.A. neighborhood where the slaughter of children with assault rifles and semiautomatic handguns had become so common that it seldom even made the evening news anymore. To her, keeping guns off the nations streets and out of the hands of its children was a true crusade of the heart.
She swiveled back to the table and nodded at the FBI director. Vern, you want to do the honors?
Vernon Lee cleared his throat and shuffled through papers already in rumpled disarray. Okay. We know they call themselves SOL. He pronounced it soul and went on to explain, Thats Spanish for sun. Thats their signature, their logo-the rising sun. The good news is- he leaned back in the upholstered chair, leaving one hand palm down on the papers in front of him -we know quite a bit about them. The leader of the group is a man named Gilbert McCullough-ex-marine, war hero, spent five years as a POW in Vietnam. Supposedly hes a legitimate rancher out in Arizona now-owns several thousand acres of land, most of it pretty rugged. Raises cattle and horses. And runs a fair-size militia on the side. Actually, he added almost as an afterthought, SOL is one of the better run of these kinds of groups. Well organized, well trained, well disciplined.
Vernon leaned forward again, forearms on the tabletop, hands clasped. And thats the bad news, Im afraid. Theyre careful. They dont make mistakes. They cover their tracks. We believe McCulloughs goal is to eventually arm and unite all the various militia groups in that part of the country under one supreme commander-himself. Thats an ambitious undertaking for a man who never achieved a military rank above sergeant. Also expensive. We believe the group is directly responsible for a large number of bank robberies and truck hijackings in the Southwest and upper Midwest, but so far we cant prove it. Theyve learned from others mistakes, it seems. They pay their taxes, for example, stay on the good side of local authorities. Up until now theyve been real careful not to give us any excuse to go after em.
Rhett rubbed at his burning eye sockets. Well, he thought, we sure as hell have an excuse to go after them now. And if we do, and if we make one mistake in the process, Ill bury my only daughter.
He drew a steadying breath. Okay. Give me an idea what the situation is out there. Local law enforcement- He stopped as the head of ATF made a soft inarticulate sound. Sorry, Henry, what was that? This is your bailiwick, after all.
Up till now Henry Vallejo had been sitting with his chin tucked against his barrel chest, watching his fingers turn a pencil end over end. He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. We dont believe local law can be trusted. Its highly likely some are members of SOL themselves. We know for sure some are sympathetic to the cause. The code of the Old West, you know. Those people out there do love their guns.
Rhett frowned. You suspect, or you know that for a fact?
Fact. Henry squirmed uneasily and glanced at Vernon Lee. Uhour intelligence sources have confirmed it.
Intelligence sources? Rhett felt his chest quiver with a new excitement as he moved in beside Henry and leaned down close to him, gripping the table with his hands. Are you telling me youve infiltrated this group? You have a man on the inside? He looked across the table at Pat, who raised her eyebrows. He transferred the look to Vernon Lee. Vernon shrugged. Henry cleared his throat. No one appeared to be breathing. Henry, said Rhett, his voice turning soft and dangerous as he came back to the ATF Director, are you telling me you knew about this? Before last night? You knew they planned to kidnap my daughter?
At the look on Rhetts face, Henry reared back in alarm and held up a hand. Pat Graham pushed back her chair. Rhett-
You knew? And you let it happen? You stood by and let these people kidnap my daughter?
Look, Id only gotten the word from my guy the night before. There wasnt anything he could do, not without jeopardizing his own position-
Jeopardizing his position? What the hells the matter with you?
The ATF man was on his feet and facing him. So was Pat Graham, who had taken Rhetts arm in a calming grip. Which, since she was five-two and 110 pounds on a good day, was a little like a Jack Russell terrier trying to corral a Great Dane.
Vallejos face was flushed. Look, Rhett. I know how you must be feeling. But think about it. You know how long it takes to get a man in position with one of these groups-theyre paranoid as hell. This man is one of the best agents weve got. I couldnt risk him. For what? We keep your daughter from being taken-this time. What then? These people are hell-bent on keeping you out of the White House. As far as theyre concerned, you are the great Satan. Theyll stop at nothing-and I mean, nothing-to keep you from accepting that nomination. How many people do you figure would die if they pull off an Oklahoma City at the Dallas Convention Center? Are you prepared to pay that price for your daughters safety?
As if suddenly realizing what he was asking, Vallejo halted and put a sympathetic hand on Rhetts arm. This way we have a shot at getting the whole organization, Rhett, dont you see? We can bring them down. Put the whole operation out of business. Its the chance weve been waiting for.