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Authors: Aimee Thurlo

BOOK: White Thunder
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“Did he take anything out of the mine?”
“I guess so, from all that’s happened after he drove off.”
“When the guy in the Forest Service vehicle left, did you go out and take a look around?”
“I sure did. He left his rope. It was still lying there next to the hole.” He reached
behind a pile of blankets on the ground and handed it to her. “I looked down into the mine shaft with a lantern, wondering if he’d left anything else behind, but all I saw were some footprints at the bottom. After that I carried that piece of roofing over to cover the hole so people from the tribe wouldn’t file a complaint against me for having a hazard out here. But everyone sure seems to
like that old mine now, don’t they?”
“Thank you for telling me all this,” Ella said. “One more thing. I know it may sound strange, but the man in the vehicle with the Forest Service sign—did you notice if he walked like an old man or a young man.”
“If you ask me, he walked like one of the punks you see in town sometimes—a kid who walks like he has all the time in the world. You know what I mean?”
Ella nodded. “I think so. That’s a big help, thank you.”
“Can I keep the rope? It’s perfectly good and the guy didn’t want it.”
“After the case is over, I’m sure no one would mind. But for now, it’s evidence.”
“That guy really wasn’t working for the Forest Service, was he?”
Ella shook her head. The vehicle he’d described sounded like Melvin Rainwater’s too, except for the Forest Service sign,
but that wouldn’t have been hard to fake. The fact that Thomas’s phone had been destroyed also pointed to Rainwater, considering the line she’d given him about the tracking signal.
“Are you going to tell me what really happened here?”
“No, not now, but I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
He nodded once. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Ella joined Justine at the mine shaft a moment later. Seeing the
line leading down into the shaft, Ella surmised Tache was already down at the bottom, taking photos. The floodlights below,
powered by a portable generator, radiated outward from the black hole casting an unearthly light into the trees, and eerie shadows across the piñon and juniper forest.
“Anything new?” Ella asked her.
“Joe had it pegged. Agent Thomas was definitely down there at one point,
and the evidence that he was removed from here by one person is right on the money, too. Tache took close-up photos of the three names that Thomas had scratched into the sandstone while he was trapped, along with the words ‘dirty, SS fraud,’ and ‘Yellowhorse.’ Thomas also scratched his own name and the date. There’s one name on the list that has been rubbed out with a piece of metal, like a key
or something, but from the length of it, I’d bet it’s Rainwater’s.”
“Not a surprise. It just further confirms, in a backhanded way, that Melvin was here. Thomas was obviously trying to tell us about the social security scam in case he didn’t survive. Let me guess, the two names still there are Simmons and Krause.”
Justine nodded. “Bingo. There are some chemicals I can use to try and restore
the missing name. Hopefully that’ll work, because we’d have a heck of a time cutting out the rock face and bringing it to a lab. I also found a few hairs and drops of blood, so we’ll have DNA evidence too.”
“Keep working.” Ella said, then stepping away, called Blalock. “I need your help. I believe I’m going to get a call very soon from Melvin Rainwater. I’m positive he snatched Agent Thomas before
Simmons and Krause showed up. My guess is that he took the agent as leverage, hoping to cut a deal. Can you set up a trace?”
“Sure thing. I’ve been able to pull in some real handy state-of-the-art hardware Homeland Security has made available for field testing. Even with cell phones, we’ll be able to get a fix inside sixty seconds. Uses satellite technology, GPS software, and maybe a little voodoo
on the side. Much better than current Bureau issue.”
“Great,” she said with a chuckle. As Teeny had indicated, the story she’d concocted for Rainwater was turning out to be dead
on. “Get busy, ’cause I expect he’ll call as soon as he figures we’ve discovered that Agent Thomas was moved.”
“On it now. If it’s not up and running in fifteen, I’ll call you.”
“Will it kick in immediately, or do I
have to let you know he’s on the line?”
“You don’t have to do a thing. Once it’s set, the monitoring is automatic,” Blalock said, then disconnected.
E
lla was helping Justine load up equipment thirty minutes later when her cell phone rang.
“You know who this is?” he asked.
Ella recognized Melvin’s voice immediately. “You’ve been a busy boy, Melvin,” she answered, “but did you know we can still read your name from the spot on the sandstone where you tried to scratch it off? The wonders of modern forensic science are amazing.”
Uncertain whether the trace was working already, she wanted to stall to make sure they’d get a fix. At the same time she was hoping to undermine whatever confidence Melvin had in his own bargaining position.
“Are you ready to deal? I’ve got something you want—the FBI agent—and you’ve got something I want—Betsy. I want her out of jail and a guarantee that we’ll both avoid prosecution. Let’s talk.”
His words verified it. He’d seen Sheriff Taylor take Betsy into custody. “We already know that you removed Agent Thomas from the mine. But how do I know he’s still alive?”
“You have to take my word for it. I rescued him, that’s enough. But he might get lost again unless you act quickly.”
“Sorry. I need proof he’s alive and in your care before we cut a deal. And if he ends up dead not only will
the deal be off, you’ll
also have every law enforcement officer, local and federal, out looking for you. Your life—as you know it—will cease to exist. You get what I’m saying?”
“Yeah? Well, talk fast. Thomas is running out of time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whatever you want to believe. It doesn’t matter. Do we have a deal or not?”
“What do you want? Reduced sentence for testimony
against Simmons and Krause? A window in your cell?”
“Immunity from all charges in exchange for delivering Thomas—for Betsy and me both. Otherwise I’m hanging up.”
“I’m not the district attorney. I don’t have the authority to grant something like that. I’ll have to check this out and get back to you.”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes. I’ll call back.”
“No, wait. Make it thirty. It’s late now and
I don’t know the DA’s private number. It’ll take me at least one additional call to get it.”
“I’ll give you twenty. That’s my final offer.”
He hung up before Ella could say anything else. Without skipping a beat, Ella ran to her vehicle, waving good-bye to Justine. Once she was rolling, she switched to her headset so she could have both hands on the wheel, then called Blalock immediately. “Did
you get his location?”
“Not exactly, but it’s within a half-mile range of a particular cell tower in Shiprock, one on the east side and south of the highway.”
Ella told him about the pen she’d had Justine rig up using the small microphone he’d loaned them a few months ago. “We can drive around that neighborhood and see if the equipment can pick up Melvin’s voice. My guess is that he’s kept the
pen as a trophy.”
“Good thought. What’s the frequency?”
Ella told him, then added, “Where can we meet? We should work as a team when this goes down.” She was back on the main highway again, making good time. Nobody was on the road this time of night and she could fly.
“How about the parking lot of the convenience store at the western junction of Sixty-four and Four-ninety-one? It’s across
town so Rainwater won’t be likely to spot us.”
Ella called Big Ed next, filled him in quickly, then with his permission called the district attorney. Time was running out, but after a three-minute delay, she finally got the sleepy counselor on the phone and explained what was going on.
“I’ll agree to those terms only on two conditions. Agent Thomas must be found alive and healthy, and Mr. Rainwater’s
testimony has to be sufficient to convict the others of the charges filed. Miss Weaver is on her own.”
“I’ll pass that along. Thanks, Counselor.”
By now, she was close to Shiprock, so Ella cut her speed to fifty. To her right stood the high school, and beyond, the convenience store where Blalock would be waiting.
Tires squealing, she braked, then pulled up next to a blue van and hopped out
quickly. Three men were standing beside the Bureau vehicle, one of them Blalock, the other two, agents she’d seen earlier with FB-Eyes.
“When this goes down,
we’ll
make the actual arrest,” Blalock said as everyone scrambled inside the vehicle.
“Actually, that works just fine for us, too. No matter how you slice it, my department isn’t going to get any brownie points for rescuing a man who interrupted
a Sing. Better that the FBI should take point on that,” Ella said.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Blalock was seated in the backseat beside her, and gave her the once-over as the van hurried east across the bridge. “You look like hell, Ella. Had any sleep?”
“Yesterday, or maybe the day before. I’m okay.”
“Running on adrenaline?”
“Coffee, actually. Got a cup?”
The younger agent in front on
the passenger side handed her a foam cup with a plastic lid. “Here you go,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “My name is Newberry. Ken Newberry.”
“Bless you, Agent Newberry.”
“Your chauffeur tonight will be Agent Martinez,” Newberry added.
“Detective Clah.” Martinez nodded.
“No need to get up, Agent Martinez,” Ella joked, then took a sip of coffee.
Just then Ella’s cell phone rang again,
and she handed Blalock the cup so she could grab the device. Seeing the number register on the caller ID, Ella nodded to Blalock, who tapped the shoulder of the passenger up front. He put on a headphone set, then pointed back at Ella.
Signal given, she touched the button that made the connection. “Clah here.”
“So tell me, does Agent Thomas get to go home today?” Melvin asked.
Ella ignored the
implied threat. “The district attorney says you have your deal on two conditions. First, Agent Thomas must be turned over in good shape, and second, your testimony in court has to lead to the conviction of Simmons and Krause.”
“And Betsy Weaver?”
“She’s on her own.”
“That’s not good enough. Without Betsy, the deal is off. You have ten more minutes to convince the DA.”
“Melvin, it’s the best
you’re going to—”
Rainwater ended the call. Ella looked at Blalock as she took her coffee. “Did you get anything?”
“Newberry?” Blalock looked toward the passenger in the front seat.
Newberry was watching a small LED display on his lap. From where Ella was sitting, it looked like a street map of Shiprock. “We narrowed the area down by half, but still no exact location. There just wasn’t enough
time,” the agent replied, looking at Blalock, then at her. “At least we know he’s not in a moving vehicle.”
“The transmitter inside that pen is our best chance of pinpointing his exact location now.” Blalock reached behind the seat and brought out a hard plastic box with a small monitor and
headphone set. He passed it up to Newberry, who set his other equipment aside for the moment.
As Ella
watched, the young tech switched on the unit, then put on the headset and set it to the frequency she’d given Blalock earlier. Again she could see a small grid with street names.
Blalock looked toward Martinez. “Go ahead and enter the neighborhood. Everyone needs to keep a sharp eye out for Rainwater’s vehicle or anyone watching out their window like they’re paranoid.”
Less than two minutes
later, Newberry looked up again. “I’ve got something,” he said, then switched on a speaker so they could all hear.
Melvin Rainwater’s voice came through clearly a second later. “Andy, you still with me?”
There was a muffled sound.
“I’ll take that as a yes, Red. Hey, your friends are still tossing a coin, trying to decide if they really want you back. Looks like it’s going to be close. You hang
in there, okay? I’ll be right back.” Melvin chuckled, then there was the sound of a door closing.
Ella watched through the gap between the seats as Newberry studied the screen. There was a red dot in the center of the display now, and a green dot, which was moving and getting closer to the red dot. Ella assumed the green spot represented their van, or more precisely, the receiver the tech was
holding.
“It’s got to be right ahead.” Newberry looked up, then pointed out the window to his left as they passed a stucco house with a single light on in one of the rooms. “In there.”
“And that’s his vehicle,” Ella pointed out the Chevy in the driveway. The phony tribal Forest Service sticker was still attached to the door.
On Blalock’s instructions, they circled the block, checking out the
layout, then parked one street over, more or less even with the house where Rainwater was keeping his hostage. All the homes, four to a block with large backyards separated by wire fences, were dark except for a few porch lights. No dogs were barking and everything was quiet.
Blalock handed Ella a ballistic vest—all the agents were wearing them already. Nodding silently, she took it and studied
the taut expressions on the faces of the three agents with her in the van.
To the two young agents Blalock had brought in, she guessed that this was a welcome opportunity to go to the aid of one of their own. But to Blalock, it was much more than that. This was one way of dealing with his guilt. Deep down he’d known that Agent Thomas hadn’t been prepared to handle a case on the Rez, but he’d
still allowed it to happen.
“When you’ve been with the Bureau as long as I have, nothing surprises you anymore,” Blalock told Ella as he picked up a shotgun and checked the magazine. “But this took me completely off guard. I figured the kid would get himself into a scrape or two, like I did when I first came to the Rez, but I never expected a complete disaster.”
“We’ll set things right soon
enough,” Ella said, totally focused on the job now.
“Agent Martinez,” Blalock told their driver, “make sure the paramedics are available and on stand-by.”
Martinez nodded and picked up his cell phone.
Ella adjusted her vest. “You’re calling it, Agent Blalock. What now?”
Blalock brought out a flash-bang grenade, inspected it for a moment, then stuffed it back into his pocket. “Martinez, you
and Newberry cover the rear. Clah and I will take the front. When everyone’s in place, I’ll identify us, and toss the flash-bang into the house via the door or the window.”
Everyone nodded.
“If Rainwater is armed and makes a move to resist, take him out, but don’t risk shooting the hostage.” Blalock was looking at his own people now. He and Ella had worked together enough that they trusted each
other’s reactions and instincts without question.
Martinez and Newberry started out first, circling together, sticking to the street until they could see the back of the target house. Once they disappeared from view down the alley, Ella and
Blalock moved in from the front. There were no trees, just low clumps of weeds and native grasses, but the night was their ally. With the moon hiding behind
the clouds and no streetlights, the darkness seemed like a yawning void that shrouded them as they made their advance.
They reached the front door unimpeded, then Blalock tested the screen door. It was unlatched and moved freely. He took a look at the entry door next. Ella noted that it was cheap laminate, probably hollow core and easily defeated.
Looking back, he nodded to Ella, who was doing
her best to watch the windows and the corners of the house at the same time. Then he brought out the flash-bang and pulled the pin. “FBI!” he shouted, kicking the door open and tossing in the grenade. They both turned their heads away to avoid being blinded.
The building shook from the blast, and the flash illuminated the entire yard like daylight for just a second. Blalock went in an instant
later, followed by Ella.
It was dark inside, the flash-bang must have shattered a bulb, but they could see well enough to find Rainwater. He was lying on the floor moaning, his hands over his ears. A pump shotgun was on the carpet three feet away.
Blalock pointed his weapon at Rainwater, at the same time shoving Rainwater’s shotgun away with his boot. “Find a light, Ella.”
Ella turned, felt
around the door trim, and located the switch. An overhead fixture came on.
“Clear!” Blalock yelled. A few seconds later they heard the back door being forced open and a light came on in the kitchen to their right.
“Clear!” Newberry and Martinez yelled almost together, then they entered the room.
“Don’t shoot,” Rainwater yelled, trying to get to his knees, his arms raised over his head.
Ella
kept her weapon trained on Melvin as Blalock applied the cuffs, none too gently, then removed the pen/transmitter from Rainwater’s shirt pocket. “Where’s Agent Thomas?” he demanded.
“Find him yourself,” Rainwater spat out.

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