Greg Iles - The Devils Punchbowl

“Their hearts and minds will follow,” says McDavitt.

Kelly looks at me. “You said dogfighting’s a felony, right?”

“Right. Even attending one is a felony. And the sentences can be pretty stiff.”

“Then tonight we’re going to run a quiet little op. A photographic expedition. We’ll shoot pictures of Sands, Quinn, and any local dignitaries who might be in attendance, plus the whores and anything else worth shooting. At that point, you’ll have evidence that could put Sands in jail for serious time. Your DA will have no choice but to cooperate. I’'ve seen dogfighting in Kabul. It’s brutal stuff. If Caitlin publishes one photo spread on the

Examiner

’s Web site, the PETA people will be calling for the partners of Golden Parachute to be crucified on the Washington Mall.”

Walt nods. “I’'ve been trying to find out where they fight. Nothing yet, but I'm on it.”

“What do we use for equipment?” I ask.

“I’'ve got night-vision optics in my gear bag,” Kelly says. “Scope, camera, range finder. Carl’s probably got some stuff too.”

The sniper nods. “We got a new scope at the sheriff’s department. I can have it up from Athens Point by tonight.”

“How do we get close to one of these fights without being detected?” I ask.

Kelly smiles cagily. “Most of them happen by the river, right?”

“That'’s what Jessup told me.”

“Then we do a Huck Finn.”

“A raft?”

“Not exactly. didn't you tell me you'’ve done some kayaking with the guy who organizes that annual race here? The Fat something or other?”

“The Phat Water Kayak Challenge.”

“Right.” Kelly tries to puzzle this out. “Is he a rapper or something?”

“No, he’s an ex-marine, force recon. He’s about fifty.”

“Will he lend you a boat?”

“Sure. He’d be happy to guide us to wherever we’re going.”

“That'’s it, then. Danny will fly air support. He’ll be my eye in the sky, with Carl riding shotgun with his sniper rifle. Wherever the VIP boat docks, I'’ll slip into shore a hundred yards away, find the action, photograph it, then get out before they even know I'm there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says McDavitt. “I'’ll bet they go the same place they docked last night.”

“Where was that?” asks Caitlin.

“A spot down the river. Louisiana side. Looked like an old farm, maybe a deer camp now. I was pretty high up, but I saw what could have been a small crowd of men under some trees.”

“Wait a second,” I cut in. “Those kayaks are nineteen feet long, but they only seat one paddler. We—”

“I know they only seat one,” Kelly says, looking hard at me. “It’s not

we

on this trip, buddy. It’s me.”

I feel blood heating my face. “You’re not going without me.”

“I'’ll move a lot faster without you, Penn.”

“You’re missing the point. I need to be there so that I can corroborate the evidence later. We don'’t know what kind of legal proceedings might come out of this. You’re going to go back to Afghanistan, or Iraq, or Africa, wherever. I need to be able to say I was there, that I saw you take these pictures and the action they document.”

Kelly takes a deep breath and looks at my father, but Dad says nothing.

“You’re forgetting something, buddy,” Kelly says. “Something I heard your mother told you not to forget.”

“What?” I ask, but it’s coming back to me now. The morning we evacuated them with Kelly’s people.

“Annie,” Caitlin reminds me. “This is no Outward Bound course. There’s real risk here.”

“Believe it,” Walt says. “Dogfighters are like drug growers, obsessed with security. They’re well-armed, high-tech, and highly mobile. You should expect guards—human and canine. You might run into booby traps, laser fences, God knows what.”

Kelly nods as though this is all part of a night’s work. “I’'ve been fighting Taliban insurgents for the past year, Mr. Garrity. I can handle this.”

“Oh, I'm sure you can. I'm just making the point for Penn.” Walt gives me a piercing look. “Your old-time American dogfighting fraternity is a tough bunch of boys. And from what you say about these Irish bastards, they could be worse. If they figure out Kelly’s close, there’s gonna be gunplay, no doubt about it.”

I look around the ring of faces, sensing that everyone agrees with Kelly and Caitlin. “I'm not forgetting Annie,” I tell them. “But I'm not forgetting Tim Jessup either. This isn’t up for debate. If we can take Tim’s killers down tonight, I'm going to be there.”

Caitlin uses her eyes to plead silently with me, but the men are watching my father. Dad rubs his chin for a while, then says, “Peggy was right about Annie needing you. She was right that we’re getting old. But she

isn’t

right that nothing’s more important than your children. Sometimes you have to take a stand. I'm not saying this is that time. But Tim was your friend, and I understand if you feel you have to go.”

“I'm getting two boats,” I tell them. “End of discussion.”

Kelly nods once in surrender. “Okay. We’ll put in upstream and take our directions from Danny in the chopper.”

“What about comm?” McDavitt asks.

Kelly reaches into his back pocket and takes out a small, black box like a cell phone, with a short, fat antenna. “These walkie-talkies are encrypted and guaranteed across ten miles. We call them Star Treks, like the ‘communicators’ on the old TV show. I brought four with me. For God’s sake, nobody lose one. They’re army-issue, Special Forces only, and it’s my ass if I go back to Afghanistan short.”

“What kind of weapons are you taking?” Carl asks.

Kelly looks as if this is the least of his concerns. “I'’ll decide that later. I’d like to avoid violence, if possible. But if they start the party, I'’ll be happy to bust their pińata.” Kelly gives Carl a frank look. “You down with that?”

The sniper turns the question over in his mind. “Somebody shoots at me, I gotta shoot back, don'’t I?”

“What if they shoot at

me

?” I ask.

Carl grins. “Just think about that insurance commercial, the one with the red umbrella. I got you covered.”

“How big is your umbrella?”

“In daylight, over a thousand yards. Nighttime’s a little different. But I won'’t be far away. You just focus on staying quiet while Kelly does his job. Danny and I will take care of the rest.”

“All this testosterone is certainly reassuring,” Caitlin says, “but what if you don'’t

find

a dogfight?”

Kelly shrugs. “We pull back, regroup, and wait for more intel. From what we know about Sands, I don'’t think he’s worried about being caught by the locals.”

“They’ll be fighting tonight,” Walt says with confidence. “Go outside and smell the air.

Feel

it. It’s football weather. The blood is up. Animals are getting itchy, starting to move. Bucks are fighting in the woods. Fighting and fucking’s what it’s all about this time of year.”

I think Caitlin is actually blushing.

“What about you, Mr. Garrity?” Kelly asks. “I know you didn't come all this way to twiddle your thumbs.”

“That'’s a fact,” Walt says. “I came because my old comrade-in-arms was in trouble.” He nods at my father. “And I do have a plan. But I tend to play a long game. I like to move slow and careful and let my prey come to me.”

Carl is listening closely. Undoubtedly, a sniper can relate to this philosophy.

In a good-natured voice, Walt says, “I'm sure that after tonight, I'’ll be redundant personnel. But no matter what happens, this is the last time you folks will see me. I'm like an actor playing a part. Once I get into the role, I don'’t break character. I almost didn't come tonight, but I wanted to see what this mess was really about. I'm glad I did.”