James Born - Burn Zone

Lina's head snapped up, and she hesitated about where to point her pistol.

The first mate said, "Shoot him, Lina, and I'll shoot your friend here."

Duarte was startled. How did this guy know Lina's name?

Lina looked at them and slowly lowered her pistol. Duarte felt a shove from behind and moved forward in a daze of confusion.

He sat across from Lina as the first mate, whose name was Pelly, had instructed. Duarte's head hurt from all the questions he had. He looked over at William Floyd, who seemed to cower next to Lina. She kept the gun to his temple in an effort to discourage Pelly from shooting Duarte.

Lina had just explained her brief meeting with Pelly in a bar.

Pelly rubbed his furry face and said to Lina, "You saw me clean-shaven. Quite the difference, no?"

Her dark eyes stared at the simian-like man.

Duarte said, "Lina, don't give up your gun. I've seen this guy's work. He's not gonna let us go."

Pelly gave him an odd look. "What work have you seen of mine?"

"The U-Haul mechanic."

"Oh, yeah, that was me."

"The young couple in Lafayette."

Pelly tilted his head. "That was my friend Ike's work."

William Floyd kept looking at the asphalt, apparently not too proud of shooting the young people. Ike mumbled. "What's it matter now? Yeah, I did it." His eyes occasionally darting to the gun barrel near his head.

Duarte continued. "Cal Linley in New Orleans, and I almost had you at Forrest Jessup's house in Mississippi."

Pelly shook his head. "I had nothing to do with those men. I don't even know who they are."

Ike's head snapped up. "Cal and President Jessup are dead?"

Duarte had always had some problems reading people. It just wasn't one of his strengths. But Pelly had admitted to some killings. Duarte didn't get the sense that either of these two were lying about other murders.

Duarte looked at Ike and asked, "What did you guys bring in?"

"What do I have to bargain with if I tell you?"

Duarte didn't know why he might want to bargain. He tried to look like he was focusing on Ike, but his eyes scanned down to his own pistol tucked in Pelly's belt. The first mate squatted just far enough away. He knew his tactics.

Duarte thought he saw a slight nod from Pelly, then Ike threw his weight toward Lina, knocking her off balance.

Duarte started to move, but felt the barrel of the Beretta against his neck.

Across from him, Ike now had the advantage, as he used his much greater size to wrench the gun away from Lina. He backed away, holding up the small automatic.

He looked at Duarte and said, "Guess I don't need to bargain now. We brought in a nuclear weapon."

ALEX DUARTE SHIFTED HIS WEIGHT, TRYING TO KEEP LINA FROM cutting off the blood flow to his legs in case he had the chance to act. Pelly had used Duarte's handcuffs to secure his arms around Lina in a bear hug in the bench seat of the F-150 pickup truck, tucked between William "Ike" Floyd and Pelly, who kept his Beretta in his hand.

They had managed to leave the area without waking Félix. His captors never even realized he was in the car. Duarte wanted to keep his DEA friend out of this now. He would've just been another hostage. Duarte figured that maybe Félix was just too drunk to wake up. In any event, no one noticed the sleeping DEA man.

What really concerned him now was the idea that the entire dope deal had been a cover to smuggle in a nuclear weapon and he had fallen for it every step of the way. The real questions he had now focused on Ike's relationship to the FBI and who had killed Cal Linley and Forrest Jessup.

Duarte said, "So, Lina, you two met in a bar?"

Pelly snorted.

Lina turned her head to the hairy man. "I didn't peg you as a killer in that little disco."

"Nor did I guess your occupation." He cut his eyes to Duarte to make sure he was secure and not trying some diversion. That impressed Duarte. This guy was sharp.

Then Pelly said, "Lina, why were you about to shoot my friend Ike back there?"

William "Ike" Floyd said, "I'll tell you why."

Duarte could feel Lina tense on his lap.

Pelly said, "Please, Ike, tell us." He looked like he was enjoying this.

Ike said, "Because the FBI doesn't want people to know I'm the third man at Oklahoma City."

Duarte had heard the theory that a third man-besides Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols-who worked for the FBI had walked away from the bombing, but it was always espoused by some gun nut or militia creep. Occasionally a cop would believe it, too, but Duarte had always dismissed it as a fantasy of the fringe groups.

Ike continued, "I told them about the plot. They had me by the short hairs, and I did my job. I told them what was happening, and no one believed me until it was too late." He sounded like he might cry he was so upset. "I couldn't tell my friends I was involved, because then the FBI woulda called me a…"

Duarte finished his sentence. "A child molester."

Ike snapped his head toward the ATF agent. "Yeah, exactly."

It made too much sense to be a lie, and Lina's silence confirmed it for Duarte.

Duarte leaned forward slightly and said to the FBI agent, "You were never sent to help us. You were sent to keep him quiet."

She remained silent.

Duarte felt like an idiot.

Ike felt some sort of release to finally say out loud what he had done. Sure, the FBI knew it, but they had scared him into silence years before. He never realized how serious they were until this bitch, Lina, was about to kill him to keep him quiet.

He had been mesmerized by the news following the blast when the news anchors had blabbed on and on about John Doe #2. After Timothy McVeigh had been arrested by an Oklahoma state trooper, everyone had seemed to focus on that numbskull. No one ever asked how smart he was. Sure, he was crazy, as crazy as anyone Ike had ever met, but he was a dumb-ass. So was his buddy Terry Nichols. Once those two were fingered, no one asked if anyone else was involved, and "John Doe #2," Ike, had faded from the public consciousness.

Over the years, so had the bombing. After 9/11, no one seemed to care about Oklahoma City. Middle Easterners were all anyone talked about.

Now, years after he had anguished about working with the FBI, he had said it out loud: He was John Doe #2.

But that didn't mean he was sold on Mr. Ortíz's crazy-assed idea.

Pelly liked hearing other people's secrets come out. He had no idea that Ike had such an interesting history. The whole story sounded like one of Colonel Staub's elaborate plans.

As they approached the big warehouse, Pelly said to Ike, "You did well getting such a low-profile truck."

Ike just nodded.

Once the truck stopped, Pelly slipped out and orchestrated the two federal agents' exit from the high vehicle. He allowed Lina to slip out of the embrace, leaving Duarte handcuffed in front. He nodded toward the door, and everyone started shuffling that way.

As they entered the large area where the professor's vehicle was parked inside by the small glass office, Pelly stopped and stared. He couldn't believe it. In front of him stood Colonel Staub standing over the still, naked body of Professor Tuznia. She was draped over her case of tools, her large breasts hanging to one side as her head lolled down toward the floor. Her dark eyes were still wide open.

Colonel Staub looked up at Pelly and his captive, but said only, "Make no comment. I have already arranged for an alternative."

"So fast?" asked Pelly.

"Money can do wonders." He cut his eyes to Duarte and Lina. "And we can deal with these two at the same time." He smiled at their expressions. "Yes, my young friends. Nothing is ever as it appears." He walked toward them. "I could ask how you found us, but it does not matter now." He winked at Lina.