Don Pendleton - Hostile Odds

“You want to explain what happened back there?” Bolan asked.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Not much for small talk, are you?”

“Not when someone’s trying to kill me.”

“You’re of no interest to them,” she said. “Besides, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll protect you.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with your real name, because I’m pretty sure it isn’t Louise.”

She extended a hand and replied, “Special Agent Sandra Newbury, FBI. I’m here on temporary assignment.”

“And your handler,” Bolan interjected. “I bet his name’s Kellogg.”

“How’d you know?”

“Same reason I knew you worked for the FBI,” Bolan said. “I recognized you when I was there.”

She laughed—a nice laugh. “Guess I’m getting sloppy.”

“Guess so. What’s Kellogg have you doing up here?”

“It’s a long story.”

Bolan frowned. “I have time.”

Newbury blew out a breath through pursed lips, then laid her head against the headrest and stared at the lake. “I was assigned here by Washington. I’m what they call a flip. I travel a lot, take undercover cases and then once the job’s done I move on. I specialize in fitting into particular areas or groups, but I’m never in for any long-term gigs. You probably hear or even know of the ones who go under for months and months, many times even years, and then after that they do regular fieldwork.”

Bolan nodded. He’d known many in the law-enforcement community who did such work—even a few he counted as friends.

“Anyway, I was assigned to get inside the Timber Vale community,” Newbury continued. “It’s gone a lot longer than maybe it should have. We’ve long suspected corruption by organized-crime elements up in this neck of the woods, and what I’ve seen in recent weeks makes me think more and more we’re right.”

“You’re talking about Mickey Gowan and clan.”

“Right again! Sounds like you know your way around here. You work for Washington also?”

Bolan shook his head. “No, but we’ll get into that later. Right now, I need to know everything you can tell me about Gowan’s operations up here.”

“Afraid I can’t tell you much,” Newbury replied with a shrug. “Especially since I don’t even know who you work for or your clearance level.”

“Much higher than yours. I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me on that and everything else I tell you. I don’t have any credentials with me to prove what I’m saying, not that I feel I have to.”

“Then what makes you think I should cooperate with you?”

“Mainly because I saved your tail back there,” Bolan countered. “That should be enough proof I’m on your side.”

Newbury’s resolve seemed to melt some, as did her defensive expression. “I suppose I do owe you one on that count. How about at least a name?”

“I gave it to you last night. Cooper.”

Newbury nodded. “Cooper it is, although I’m betting it’s a cover. Anyway, it was just luck of the draw you came along when you did. Thanks.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I’d planned to follow up on a lead I got with you, once I realized who you were and where I’d seen you before.”

“A lead on what?”

“About a week ago, a pair of F-15s was shot down at Kingsley Airfield.”

Newbury nodded and said evenly, “I heard about that. My brother happens to be a pilot for the Texas Air National Guard. I’m a little more sensitive when I hear about those kinds of things. It reminds me just how short life is.”

“It can be,” Bolan replied.

“But I thought that was ruled an accident,” she said.

“That’s what they’re telling the press. In reality, we think the Earth Liberation Front might have been responsible.”

“Doesn’t sound like their MO. And besides, what does any of this have to do with Mickey Gowan and my case?” she asked.

“I’m coming to that. My intelligence on Gowan shows he’s funneling monies through the local businesses all along this region for the ELF. Giving them a place to store their cash, launder funds, the works. Neither the Justice Department nor the IRS would look hard at a community of this size, particularly if the growth rate wasn’t significant. Timber Vale’s the perfect place for Gowan’s operations.”

“Okay, but for what purpose? If Gowan allows the businesses around here to get hurt, that’s only going to look bad on him.”

“Not if he’s using those business to pipeline cash but making the individual business owners sign receivership,” Bolan said. “Think about it. He fronts the ELF’s money to the business owners. He can show those as legitimate business transactions to the ELF, make them think he’s doing it to protect their funds. Then somebody defaults and he lets it get back to the ELF the receivers have stolen the money. The ELF then takes it out on the individuals and Gowan gets away squeaky clean with the embezzled funds.”

“And after it’s over, he then comes in and restores the thing at a quarter of the cost,” Newbury concluded. “Nobody’s the wiser!”

“Right.”

Newbury looked at Bolan with utter surprise. “It’s ingenious if true.”

“That’s a big if right now,” Bolan admitted. “What I need is some corroborating evidence. And I need you to help me get it.”

“How?”

“Keep doing what you’ve been doing,” he said.

“That’ll be tougher now that Gowan’s people are onto me,” Newbury replied.

“Those weren’t Gowan’s people,” Bolan replied. “They were too well-trained and -equipped. Gowan’s men are thugs and hoods, nothing more. Those guys weren’t maybe the brightest of the bunch, but they were definitely experts in their field.”

“But why would the ELF come after me?”

Bolan had to admit he didn’t have an answer to that question. He didn’t have any proof the men who attacked Newbury weren’t from Gowan, but his instinct told him otherwise and Bolan always listened to it. No, those men were after more than the rent money.

“What kind of questions did they ask?”

“They wanted to know where Earl was, who owned the place…stuff like that.”

“Mickey Gowan doesn’t own that restaurant?”

She shook her head. “Too small. I actually got hired there by Earl about two months back. Earl did all the resupply, ordered things whenever I asked him, signed all the checks. I just assumed Earl owned the place, so I figured it was a good place to keep my cover while I poked into other business ventures.”

“I know Gowan owns the mill,” Bolan said.

Newbury nodded. “As well as the mercantile, bank and just about everything else in Timber Vale. He doesn’t do much with the small businesses, but he’s got his teeth into all the major capital ventures.”

“Good,” the Executioner said with a nod. “I’ll need a list of those as soon as you can get them to me.”

Newbury batted her eyelashes and said, “Still not going to tell me who you work for?”

Bolan shook his head. “No, and I’d appreciate if you don’t ask me anymore.”

“Fine,” she said. She folded her arms and said, “So what now?”

“You have someplace safe you can go?”

She nodded. “I can wait at a friend’s house until Kellogg gets up here.”

“Not good,” Bolan said. “I don’t trust Kellogg, and I think it’s better if you don’t contact him.”

“He’s my handler,” Newbury protested. “I have to call him.”

“I don’t trust Kellogg,” he repeated.

Newbury sighed. “You think he’s in bed with Gowan.”

“Yeah. You?”

Something in Newbury’s eyes betrayed she had similar feelings. Bolan had wondered why the inaction on Kellogg’s part.