Andrew Peterson - First to Kill

Nathan said nothing.

“It’s not hard to guess who did this. You going after them?”

“Big-time.”

“I want to help. What can I do?”

Nathan turned and faced him. “You’re a hardworking and honest public servant, Henning. SAC Simpson told me as much on the drive up to the cabin. Don’t blow everything you’ve worked for over this. It’s too high a price.”

“Fuck that. As far as I’m concerned, the gloves are off.” A soft chime announced the elevator’s arrival. They stepped in and waited for the stainless-steel doors to close. “We take care of our own.” Henning stabbed the third-floor button harder than he needed to.

Being careful not to sound condescending, Nathan said, “That’s not how you felt the other night. Look, I’m dirty when it comes to this sort of thing. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Constitution when the stakes are high enough. Only a fool plays by the rules when the other side doesn’t. If we’re going to find these guys, things may have to get nasty. And I mean nasty.”

“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make sure you get it.”

“For starters, I’ll need access to the NCIC database, and I’ll need license plates run, addresses, phone numbers. Those kinds of things.”

Henning pulled his wallet, removed a business card, and wrote a number on the back. “This is my cell. I keep with me all the time, twenty-four-seven.”

“You’re risking a lot by helping me.”

“I have to sleep at night.”

“This doesn’t go any farther than you, Harvey, and me unless you want Holly to know. It’s your call. Given the circumstances, I don’t think she’ll object.”

The elevator opened onto the third-floor ICU where they had assisted with the wounded several hours ago. All was calm. The nurse’s station was manned. The gurneys gone. The blood mopped. The smell of charred flesh cleaned from the air. Henning nodded to the uniformed police officer sitting to the left. Nathan followed Henning to the nurse’s station where they identified themselves and signed the log sheet. Holly was in room 312. As they walked through the ICU, Nathan considered telling Henning about his conversation with Holly in the piano bar, how she’d agreed to help in much the same way, but dismissed the thought. He didn’t want to betray her trust. It wasn’t Nathan’s place, nor his nature, to disclose anything he and Holly had talked about. If Holly told Henning, that was fine. And he wasn’t going to betray Director Lansing’s trust either. As far as Holly was concerned, Lansing’s call giving Nathan a green light never happened. And what exactly was a green light? What did it mean? For now, he couldn’t worry about it. He’d do things his way and let the chips fall where they might, although he was reasonably sure the old adage Kill ’em all and let God sort ’em out, didn’t apply.

“What are you thinking about?” Henning asked.

“My next moves.”

“And those are?”

They stopped at Holly’s room. The door was closed.

Keeping his voice low, Nathan continued. “I’m going to find people connected with the Bridgestones. With your help, it should be easier.”

“Where will you start?”

“Ernie Bridgestone. I’m going to look at the visitation logs from his prison term in Fort Leavenworth. There might be a contact there. An old girlfriend or drinking buddy. I’m also going to look into Leonard Bridgestone’s military contacts when he was stationed on the Iraq-Syrian border. I think that’s where this Semtex business started. Also, the Bridgestones probably have someone on the inside of a financial institution laundering the cash. I’m betting it was a fellow officer or a grunt from his unit, but it could be anyone associated with either of them. That’s where you come in. I give you names, you give me everything the FBI has on them.”

“You got it.” Henning opened the door and stepped aside. In a whisper, he said, “Keep it brief, under five minutes, okay?”

What Nathan saw next nearly brought him to tears.

Holly Simpson lay on her back. The top left side of her head was shaved and wrapped with gauze. Both shoulders were secured by harnesses designed to keep the dislocated joints from moving. Her legs, from the hips down, were braced with some sort of external steel supports designed to minimize contact with her skin, which was also wrapped in gauze. Burns, Nathan knew. Seeping through in areas, reddish-yellow stains contrasted the white gauze. Two IV’s were dripping fluids into veins on both her wrists. The soft beeping of her heart monitor was the only sound present.

Her eyes opened at hearing a visitor and she turned her head. “I guess they found us.”

“Hey, kiddo.”

“I must look like a real mess.”

“Holly, I’m so sorry.”

“Can you get me a drink of water, please?”

Nathan approached the bed and guided the cup’s straw to her lips.

She pulled a small amount into her mouth and tried to smile. “Thanks.”

“More?”

She nodded.

Nathan let her have as much as she wanted. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Just after fourteen-thirty.”

“Can you elevate my bed a little?”

“Sure.” Nathan reached for the controller and hit the button. The electric motor whined softly. She did her best to conceal it, but her face tensed with pain.

“That’s good, thanks. There’s no TV in here, I haven’t seen any coverage. How many?”

“Twenty-one. Seven more may not make it.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “I should’ve taken better security measures, had more guards at the gate.”

“Holly, don’t do this. They would’ve been killed where they stood. Don’t second-guess yourself.”

“Director Lansing called me.”

Nathan waited.

“He asked me lots of questions, all of them about you, mostly about what kind of person you are.”

“I’m in trouble.”

She managed a smile. “He told me about your call, what you want to do. We both agreed we want you aboard.”

“I didn’t want to betray his trust, but now that you know, he called a little while ago and gave me a green light.”

“Director Lansing told me Larry Gifford was killed in the blast.”

He shook his head and forced himself to relax his hands. Damn those Bridgestones. “I liked him a lot.”

“Me too. Is Bruce here?”

He nodded.

“Can you bring him in, please?”

Nathan walked over to the door and opened it. Henning was standing a respectable distance away. Nathan knew he didn’t want to appear as though he’d been eavesdropping. “She wants you to come in.”

With both men at her bedside, Holly continued. “Last night I promised to help Nathan. That’s on you now. Are you two okay?”

Henning said, “We’re on the same page now.”

“That’s good.” Her face tensed with pain. “I want you to give him NCIC database information when he asks for it. Okay?”

“No problem. I’m glad to do it.”

“I’ve cleared it with Director Lansing. He’s having a Lear flown out from DC. It’s at Nathan’s disposal, okay? Anywhere he wants to go. You go with him, but I don’t want you directly involved. Support only.”

“Understood,” Henning said.

“The Bridgestones left a note in the guard shack. It only had five words. Expect more ofthe same .”

Nathan shook his head.

“Our document people are checking it out, trying to determine what kind of paper and printer was used. We might catch a break. Director Lansing’s beefed up security at every field office and resident agency.” Holly closed her eyes. “Find them, Nathan. We can’t let this happen again.”

“You can count on it.”