Andrew Peterson - First to Kill

During the elevator ride down to the lobby, Henning did his best to hide the fury he was feeling, but Nathan felt it, like heat from an oven.

Outside, Henning asked, “What kind of animals would do this? Those sick fucks.”

“There’s no easy answer to that except that the safety mechanisms that keep most of us in check are absent in those two. They’ve justified the bombing as revenge for their kid brother’s death.”

“You think they’ll try to hit another field office?”

“I don’t know, maybe. The note’s likely just a diversion to draw attention away from their true target.”

Henning waited.

“Me.”

At the Hyatt, Henning pulled his sedan up to the curb and killed the engine. Rather than simply drop Nathan off, he stepped out and shook hands. “I’ll call you as soon as the Lear arrives,” Henning said. “Is there anywhere you want to go right away?”

“The USDB at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.”

“USDB?”

“United States Disciplinary Barracks. I hadn’t planned on going out there because of the time it would take flying commercial airlines. With the Lear, we can land right at the fort. I want to speak to the psychiatrist who counseled Ernie Bridgestone. Ernie was nearly beaten to death in there, I read it in his file. To get over something like that, he probably needed support from the prison shrink, who might have a useful insight into Ernie’s psyche, as well as his personal life. I’m looking for any lead I can get. I just hope the psychiatrist is willing to talk and doesn’t pull some doctor-patient BS on me.”

“Given the circumstances, I hope he shares whatever he has.” The fed grinned. “You could always visit him after hours if he doesn’t cooperate.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think you really are with the program.”

“Listen, I want to thank you for helping out in the ICU with our wounded. I didn’t mean what I said. This isn’t your fault.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“I’ll call if there’s any change in Holly’s condition.”

“Get some sleep, Special Agent Henning. There’s a basic rule in the Marine Corps. Sleep when you can.”

Henning sighed. “I’ve got a long report to write, but it can wait. Now that you mention it, I’m pretty damned tired. I hope you’re right about this ringing in my ears, it’s driving me crazy.” Henning got into the sedan and rolled his window down.

“I mean it, Henning, get some shut-eye. I’d like to be in Fort Leavenworth before sunrise.”

* * *

Inside his room, Nathan plopped down on the bed.

“That you?” Harv called from the connecting room.

He stared at the ceiling. “Yeah.” He sensed Harv’s presence at the adjoining door and answered his unspoken question. “She’s gonna pull through. They’ve got her doped up on morphine for eight broken bones, a fractured skull, and second-degree burns, but she should be okay in the long run. No spinal or nerve damage.”

“I guess that’s good news, considering the alternative.”

“Amen to that. The Bridgestones left a note in the guard shack telling the FBI to expect more of the same.”

“Think they’re serious?”

“Hard to say. I told Henning it was probably a diversion to tie up resources.”

“Makes sense. A lot’s happened while you were gone. I’ve got our two techs checked into a room down the hall. They’ve got our secure fax line up and running. I took the liberty of contacting General Hawthorne when you were gone. He promised to fax us the visitation logs for Ernie Bridgestone by twenty-hundred tonight.”

“Good work. How’s old Thorny doing?”

“Busy. He asked about you, though.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I told him I still needed to wake your ass up with a ten-foot pole.”

“That’s nice, Harv.”

“He’s also gonna get us that list of Leonard’s military contacts from the Gulf.”

Nathan sat up. “Director Lansing called. Gave us the go-ahead. I guess the bombing changed things. We even get an FBI Lear at our disposal. It’s being flown out from DC as we speak.”

“No kidding?”

“Everyone from the top down is strongly motivated to find the Bridgestones. Even Henning’s in our court.”

“Talk about a change from a few nights ago. This is a pretty strong statement of trust.”

“It’s not absolute. I fully expect Henning to be Lansing’s eyes and ears.”

“Lansing’s just covering his ass by having Henning tag along. I wouldn’t read too much into it. What’s your first stop, then?” Harv asked.

“The Castle.”

“We should have the visitation logs tonight. Why go there in person?”

“A hunch. I want an insight into Ernie Bridgestone’s head.”

“The prison shrink?”

“Yep.”

“You could do it by phone.”

“I’d rather have a face-to-face.”

“Understood. I’ll coordinate things from here. I need to follow up on Ernie’s contacts too. Like you said, maybe we get lucky and one of them will be working for a bank or financial institution.”

Nathan lay back on the bed. “Wake me up in three hours.”

“Will do. I’m going down the hall and check on our boys.”

Nathan’s eyes snapped open and for the second time that day he felt disoriented, unsure where he was. As the room came into focus, Harv stood a comfortable distance away, next to the small coffeemaker on the table near the window.

“How long?” Nathan asked.

“Three hours on the button. I took your phone. Henning called about an hour ago, said the Lear will be here by twenty-three hundred. He wants you to call him back.”

“You get the logs from the Castle?”

“Yep, and it seems Ernie had a frequent visitor, besides his brother Leonard. His ex-wife from Pensacola when he was a drill instructor at the naval air station. Her name’s Amber Mills Sheldon. It’s worth pursuing.”

“Definitely. You get an address? Phone number?”

“Just what she wrote in the log, but it’s old. Our guys are checking it out. We should see if she’s in the NCIC database. If she is, we’ll get the most current info.”

“I’ll ask Henning to run her. Anybody else visit him?”

“Not a soul.”

“Why am I not surprised. Did Thorny get you anything on Leonard’s Gulf contacts yet?”

“I don’t expect to hear from him until tomorrow morning.”

“I should be back from the Castle by midday.”

“With a little luck, we’ll have a starting place to hunt these guys down.”

“Agreed.” Nathan’s cell bleeped to life from a restricted number. “Hello?”

“Nathan?”

“Dad,” Nathan said. Harv gestured, asking if he should leave the room. Nathan shook his head.

“Am I calling at a bad time?”

“You’re working late tonight.”

“Goes with the territory. We need to talk.”

Nathan said nothing.

“I hear you’ve been busy out there.”

Was this an attempt at a thank-you? “Yes, I have. We have, Harv and me.”

“You saved a bunch of lives with that warning shot you fired at the compound. I’m glad you were there.”

“Frank Ortega asked us keep an eye on things.”

“I know, he told me. He also told me you want to speak to Director Lansing.”

“I’ve already spoken with him.” But you already know that , he silently added.

“May I ask what you talked about?”

“Harv and I are going after the Bridgestones.”

“I see.”

“Before murdering twenty-one federal employees today, they beat James Ortega to a bloody pulp, cut six of his fingers off, and then burned him alive.” Nathan waited through an uncomfortable silence. “You still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”