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T
hey were married on the Sunday after Christmas, in a brief, entirely conventional ceremony performed by Jack Gene Coldwater. Jesse had trouble with the occasion. Up until Christmas Day, he had not hated Jack Gene or Casey or Ruger; now he did, for what they had done to Jenny. His best chance of bringing revenge to all of them lay in calling in the feds, and he could not wait to talk to Kip Fuller again.

Eight days passed before the first business day of the new year, and they were difficult for Jesse. He was glad to be married to Jenny, but nervous about the possibility of the house being bugged. Coldwater's people stayed away from him, and for that he was grateful.

On Monday, the fourth, he took his telephone into the woods behind the plant and called Kip Fuller.

“Jesse, I've been waiting to hear from you.”

“What kind of reaction did you get from Barker?”

“You're not going to like it.”

“They don't believe me?”

“Something like that.”

“Kip, my deal is that I get Coldwater on a felony indictment, and I'm out of here. Well, I've got him; it's a felony to buy or possess the kind of armament he's got stashed up on that mountain.”

“That's Barker's point,” Kip said. “He thinks you're making this up to get out.”

“Well, I'm prepared to prove it; all he has to do is to bust Coldwater, Casey and Ruger, then search the place. What's the big deal?”

“It's too fantastic, that's all. You're going to have to get proof of your allegations.”

“Jesus Christ! What are you, a judge of the federal court? Act on my information and you'll have your proof.”

“The proof has to come first.”

“What do you expect me to do? Walk in there with a camcorder and tape Coldwater posing with a lot of munitions?”

“Not exactly; you'll have to use something a little more subtle than a camcorder. I can take care of that.”

“Kip, I don't know if I'll ever be allowed into that place again. It was a fluke that I saw it at all. How am I supposed to get back in?”

“That's up to you,” Kip replied, and he didn't sound happy about it. “We've got to find a way to get a small camera to you.”

“This is insane; I'll never be able to do it.”

“What about some other way, some other felony?”

“I think they may be bombing abortion clinics, but I don't have a shred of evidence to back that up.”

“Get them to take you along, then.”

“They haven't asked me to do anything illegal, so far. Oh, I did shoot a guy, and Coldwater finished him off.”

“Tell me about it.”

“We were target shooting with M-sixteens and handguns, and a guy named Partain appeared out of
nowhere and tried to waste Coldwater. I hit him in a shoulder, and Coldwater, cool as ice, took my pistol and put one into the back of his head. Casey was there; does murder count in our deal?”

“You got any other witnesses?”

“Just Coldwater, Casey and me.”

“Then it's your word against theirs, and I'll be willing to bet it would be hard to prove this guy Partain ever even existed. Also, Ruger wasn't there, and we've got to have him, too. Come to think of it, he wasn't at the fort with Coldwater and Casey, was he?”

“That's right.”

“Well, then, you've got to tie all three of them in a neat bundle, or your deal's no good.”

“Ruger runs the local bank; I'd be willing to bet that a stiff audit would turn up all sorts of stuff. There's the money I took to the Swiss bank in New York, for instance.”

“You want me to call in the bank examiners while you're there in the middle? That might make them suspicious, since you're the new boy.”

“You have a point.”

“Listen, the fort is your best chance. Can you find an excuse to go to Coeur d'Alene this week?”

“There's no office supply store in St. Clair, and we're low on some things at the plant. I might be able to manage it.”

“What day?”

“Let's try for tomorrow.”

“Okay, on the outskirts of town—you'll pass it on your right driving from St. Clair—is an old fashioned hamburger joint called Mack's. What time will you go?”

“I should be there by ten, if all goes well.”

“Okay, from ten to eleven, there'll be a guy at the counter drinking coffee and reading a Seattle newspaper. He's six-four, two-fifty, and he'll be wearing a
checkered shirt and a down vest and a New York Yankees baseball cap. You sit next to him, have a cup of coffee, and when he has a chance he'll pass you a package. There'll be a camera inside a Zippo cigarette lighter; it'll be loaded with thirty-six exposures of a special, low-light color film, and it will shoot in anything but total darkness, if you brace it against something to hold it still. There'll be typed directions inside; memorize them and burn them—the lighter works. The guy will leave first; you finish your coffee, then go on your way. When you get your shots, FedEx them to me, care of the Justice Department, and don't get caught doing it.”

“Okay, but I can't guarantee that I can get back inside the fort.”

“Then nail them on something else; make them take you on an abortion clinic raid.”

“But if I participate, will my testimony be any good?”

“As long as you can make a case for duress, it will. Are you going to stick it out, Jess?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not that I see.”

“Then I'll stick it out.” He hung up.

Jess walked back to his office deep in thought. By the time he was at his desk he had made up his mind. He knocked on Herman Muller's door. “Herman, I've got some news; Jenny Weatherby and I got married a week ago Sunday.”

“That's wonderful, Jesse; congratulations,” Muller replied, bestowing a rare smile.

“I wondered if I could get a few days off for a honeymoon sometime soon.”

Muller turned to his calendar. “Let's see; we're starting the New York plywood order this week. If things go smoothly, I should think you could take off the week after next.”

“I haven't been here long, Herman; I'd be happy to take it without pay.”

“Call it a wedding present,” Muller said, and smiled again.

“Thank you, Herman; that's very generous. Oh, we're running low on a bunch of things in the office; I thought I'd run up to Coeur d'Alene in the morning.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Jesse went back to his desk. He had the passports; he had, what, something over fifty thousand dollars in his safe under the truck. It wouldn't last long on the run, but it was better than nothing. San Francisco, that sounded good for a honeymoon, and it offered flights to half a dozen Far Eastern countries.

The more he thought about it, the more he knew his fifty thousand wasn't enough. He'd have to put his mind to finding more over the next couple of weeks.

J
esse spent an hour at the office, making a list of needed supplies, then left for Coeur d'Alene. As soon as he left the plant's parking lot, he noticed the car behind him, and it stayed there all the way through town and up the road to the city. This must mean that the office was bugged. In the countryside it kept a car or two between them, but it was always there. Jesse was tempted to pass up the meet at the hamburger joint, but the camera offered at least one possible way out, and he couldn't pass it up. Mack's restaurant hove into view, and he pulled into the parking lot and got out.

There was a variety of vehicles parked out front, everything from a UPS van to a couple of eighteen-wheelers. Jesse wondered what his contact was driving. Inside the door he put some change into a machine and got a copy of
U.S.A. Today
, while looking over half a dozen men seated at the counter. None of them fit the description of his man. He glanced at his watch; ten past ten; his contact was late.

Jesse took a stool at the end of the counter, away from the other customers and with a pair of empty
stools next to it. He ordered a cup of coffee and a doughnut and glanced into the mirror behind the counter. A young man, very like the one who had followed him in New York, came through the front door, looked around, then, spotting him, took a stool near the center of the counter and ordered coffee.

Jesse took his time over the coffee and the newspaper, but he couldn't be seen to tarry, and his contact didn't show. Finally, when he'd been there for twenty-five minutes, he paid his check and got up to leave. As he approached the door, a man fitting the description of his contact walked into the place and headed for the counter. Jesse prevented himself from even pausing and continued on out of the restaurant.

Cursing the man's tardiness for screwing up the meet, Jesse got into his truck and started the engine, then looked down and saw a package of Bicycle playing cards on the front seat beside him, and they didn't belong to him. He waited until he got to cruising speed before opening the package; inside was the Zippo lighter and a tightly folded sheet of instructions. He glanced in his mirror and saw that his tail was one car back, then he held the sheet against the steering wheel and read it carefully, alternating with watching the road. If he started a fire in the truck it might be noticed, so he wadded up the paper and slipped it into a pocket; he'd deal with that later.

At the huge office supply store he got a shopping cart and began to fill it from his list. Halfway through the store he caught sight of his tail, pushing a cart and pretending to shop. Then, as he was about to approach the checkout counter, he saw exactly what he needed. A pretty young woman was demonstrating, of all things, a shredder. He stopped and, keeping his back to his tail, removed the wad of paper from his pocket and opened it up. “Can you shred this for me?” he asked the woman.

“Just shred, or would you like to see our burn feature, too?” she asked.

“I'd just love to see the burn feature,” Jesse replied, handing her the folded sheet of paper. He watched as she fed it into the machine, and he followed it with the playing card package. A puff of smoke rose from the bin as the paper was converted to ash. “That's very impressive,” he said.

“Can I order a machine for your company?”

“I'll have to ask my boss,” Jesse replied. He smiled at her and continued to the checkout desk. He noticed that his tail preceded him from the building and was waiting in his car.

Jesse loaded the supplies into the back of the pickup, got in and drove back toward St. Clair, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror to be sure his tail was in position. He drove straight through the town and back to the plant and, as he was unloading the supplies, he saw the tail's car make a U-turn and head back toward the town. The young man would have nothing to report, Jesse thought, with some satisfaction. It was clear, though, that someone—Coldwater or Casey—didn't yet entirely trust him.

 

At supper, he broached the subject of San Francisco. “Herman says I can have the week after next off.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Jenny said, glancing worriedly at Carey. “I don't think Carey could miss school, though.”

“Well, it is a honeymoon, after all; I thought maybe she could come just for the first weekend. We could fly from Spokane on Friday night, then send her back on Sunday afternoon. Do you think we could get someone to meet her at the airport?”

“Oh, please, mommy, I want to go to San Francisco,” the little girl said.

“Well,” Jenny said, reluctance in her voice, “Let's see what we can do. I'm not promising, though.”

The little girl was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“I'm sure we can work it out,” Jesse said, reassuringly. Carey beamed at him.

 

After dinner, when Carey was absorbed in her homework, Jesse put down his newspaper. “Want to take a stroll around the neighborhood?” he asked Jenny. “It's a starry night.”

“Sure,” she replied. “I'll get our coats.”

When they were away from the house and Jesse was reasonably sure they were not being watched, he spoke up. “I have some things to tell you,” he said. “First of all, we're talking about a lot more than a honeymoon.”

“I was hoping you'd say that,” she said, slipping her hand into his.

“I don't want you to ask any questions about this, but I have three valid passports with yours, Carey's and my photograph in them. I also have enough money to get us out of the country.”

She squeezed his hand. “I've never been out of the country,” she said excitedly. “Where would we go?”

“Maybe Hong Kong, as a first stop. There are excellent airline connections from there to points all over the world. I want to give some more thought to where we might end up on a more permanent basis. Where would you like to live?”

“Anywhere you say is fine with me,” she replied. “I mean that; Carey and I will go
anywhere
with you.”

“Here's what we'll do, then; we'll drive to Spokane and leave the truck there, then fly to San Francisco. We'll check into a hotel, the three of us, and stay until Sunday. When time comes to take Carey to
the airport for her flight back to Spokane, we'll simply get onto another flight. I'll have to check the schedules and see what our best bet is, and we'll have to go with only the clothes on our backs. We won't even check out of the hotel. Carey will have some things with her, of course, but that will be all we can take.”

“There's nothing here that I can't live without,” Jenny said. “Not one damned thing.”

“My, my, I've never heard you use strong language, ma'am.”

She laughed. “I guess I must feel pretty strongly about it.”

“Something I have to know about,” Jesse said, serious again. “Carey. Just how firm a grip does the church and school have on her?”

“I know this isn't a very good answer, but it's hard to say. You've heard her spout the racial stuff they're taught there, and as I've said before, they insist that she never miss a day's school, unless she's certifiably ill. The children are also taught to report any derogatory remarks their parents make about the church or Jack Gene; I think they use them as a sort of early warning system against parents who seem to be straying from the fold.”

“Have there ever been consequences for those people?”

“As I said before, people have been known to disappear.”

“Are there ever any questions asked about these disappearances?”

“People are afraid to ask questions. Sometimes there's a story that they've been expelled from church and are ashamed to show their faces in St. Clair; sometimes they're just gone.”

Jesse nodded. “We're going to have to be very careful with Carey. It's important that she not have the slightest idea of what we're planning. Answer her
questions about the San Francisco trip, but don't overdo it; tell her we'll visit Fisherman's Wharf and the Golden Gate Bridge and see all the other sights. We'll do that on her weekend with us. I don't want her to know that anything at all has changed until the last possible moment, when we're at the airport, and you're going to have to figure out what to tell her to be sure that she's not upset by the change in plans.”

“I understand.”

“Also, talk with her about things beyond the San Francisco trip, things at school or at church. Make the trip seem like just one event in the coming months. That way, if anybody questions her, she'll have the right answers.”

“I think the best way to handle things at the airport is to tell her that Jack Gene is sending us on a trip, a secret trip, maybe, to do something or other for him or the church.”

“Good. You'll have to build our name change into the story, too.”

“What is our new name going to be?”

“Warren. I'm Jeffrey, you're Jillian, Carey is Katherine.”

“I like the sound of them,” Jenny said. “Jeff, Jilly, and Kathy, the all-American family.”

“That's us,” Jesse said. “Something else: I've got enough money to keep us for a while, if we're careful, but we could certainly use more.”

“I rarely have more than a hundred dollars in the bank at any one time, after I've paid the bills,” she replied.

“That's not what I was thinking of,” Jesse said. “When you lived with Jack Gene, did you live in the house he's in now?”

“Yes. He'd just built it when I went to live there.”

“Did he keep large amounts of money in the house or in the church?”

“There was a big safe in his study,” Jenny said, holding out a hand at waist level. “This high, at least. I watched them install it, but I never saw what was in it. Jack Gene always seemed to have a lot of cash in his pockets, though, and it could have come from the safe.”

“Where in the study was it?”

“Opposite the fireplace, behind a bookcase that swung out. Jesse, you're not thinking of trying to rob Jack Gene, are you?”

“I will, if I get the chance.”

“This is what I think,” she said. “I think that if we just disappear, he might not take the trouble to look for us much, especially if we've left the country. We won't be able to hurt him in any way, after all. But Jack Gene has a monumental temper, and in the past he's gotten maddest when somebody stole from him. If we take his money, he'll never stop looking for us.”

“You're right,” Jesse said. “We'll manage on the money we've got.” But, he thought to himself, after what Jack Gene has shown me up on the mountain, he'll never stop looking for us, anyway, so what the hell?