Cold trail, p.20
Cold Trail, page 20
Faraz brought them to his face and studied them as if surprised. “Guess so.”
“You guess so?” Kim asked. “You didn’t feel it?”
Faraz kept his eyes forward, turning occasionally on side roads and down alleys, making a circuitous route away from the main street that would be difficult to trail. “I don’t know.”
Kim could tell he was being cagey. “How did you get the car keys? Did the owner agree to let someone else vouch for you in Shir Khan?”
Faraz looked a little guilty. “Not exactly.”
“Then how did you get them?”
“I tried to reason, but he wouldn’t listen.” Anger flashed in Faraz’s eyes. “And then you got yourself in trouble. So, I did what I had to do and then took the keys and left.”
“You mean you knocked out some innocent person and stole them?”
“We needed a car and now we have one. Just be glad it only came to that.”
Part of Kim knew that Faraz was right. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and given the impending danger and Bayat’s weakened condition, it was about as bad as it could get. But in all her time on the job, she’d never asked anyone to harm an innocent civilian. Of course, this was a classic ends versus means scenario. It was literally life and death.
She had to remind herself that Faraz, in addition to being sweet little Asadi’s long-lost older brother, was also a criminal. It was unlikely this was the first time he’d used physical violence to get what he wanted. But that was a problem for another day. They’d tipped off their location, which meant they were even worse off now than they were in the BMW.
As soon as she and Faraz picked up Bayat they could be on the road. And with a little lead time, they could safely link up with Mario undetected. With her CIA counterpart in mind, Kim pulled out her cell phone to make a call. She had just typed in the number and was about to press send when the rattle of automatic gunfire prompted Faraz to slam on the brakes.
Kim yanked the cover from her head and glanced around. “Where did that come from?”
Head on a swivel, Faraz jammed on the accelerator, sped down the dirt road, and nosed the car around the corner of the auto repair shop where they’d left Bayat. He was still there, as was the vehicle. But unfortunately, so were their old adversaries in the red Toyota Hilux.
The only good news was that the back-and-forth exchange meant Bayat was still in the fight and giving them hell. But the tit-for-tat wouldn’t last long. She had left him with only one extra magazine for the UZI. Which meant in a matter of seconds, his ammo would be spent.
40
Garrett could tell that giving Bridger a heads-up on the investigation had paid off in spades. His lawyer brother was busting to report a win for their case from the moment he opened the door. The former high school quarterback was still extremely competitive and was as aggressive in the courtroom as he had been on the football field. It was clear by his face that they were headed for victory, or at the very least that he’d scored a big touchdown pass.
In the short time he’d had to start his investigation, Bridger had put together a war room with maps, legal documents, and printed articles that were scattered about the den and the kitchen. After Garrett made introductions, his brother gestured toward a table in the dining area where there was a carafe of coffee, as well as a spread of bacon, eggs, and pastries laid out for them.
“Given the hour,” Bridger began, “I feel like this qualifies more as a midnight snack than breakfast. But I thought you could use a little fuel to keep you running.”
“Man, you have no idea.” Garrett looked around for the pastry baker but came up empty. “Where’s Cassidy? Wanted to see if I could grab a couple of her famous homemade cinnamon rolls for the road. Asadi hears that he missed out on the mother lode, I’ll be in trouble.”
“She and the girls hit the road this evening,” Bridger explained. “Headed to Lubbock for some 4-H thing down there. Wanted to shake a leg before the weather moves in.” He grabbed a couple of rolls and put them on a napkin. “And don’t worry about taking a few rolls. I’ll be in trouble if I don’t save some for him.”
“Looks like they barely missed the snowstorm.” Kai took a bite of his cinnamon roll as he spoke. “Wind is picking up and skies are going dark.”
“Gonna be a nasty one,” Bridger agreed, scooping a healthy portion of eggs onto his plate. He turned to Garrett. “Eat up, Bucky. You look like hell.”
“Feel like it too. Been a long-ass day and I’ve got a feeling that it’s far from over.”
Bridger poured Garrett a cup of coffee from a carafe on the table. “You smart enough to think while you eat?”
Garrett grinned. “Only if you dumb it down for me.”
“No problem.” Bridger shot Kai a wink. “Been doing that my whole damn life.”
Kai chuckled, seeming to get a kick out of the teasing. “Well, Counselor, Garrett might’ve told you that I’m along for the ride to clear my group of any wrongdoing. Any luck with that?”
Bridger shook his head. “Afraid not. In fact, your organization has quite a reputation for civil disobedience. Mostly in Europe though. Record is pretty clean here in the States.”
“Better update that record.” Garrett cut eyes at Kai, including him in the playful teasing. “Witnessed some civil disobedience around here up close and personal.”
Kai raised his hands in a show of mea culpa. “Man, I told you I was sorry about all that.”
“I know. I know. And I’m also aware that blocking roads and blowing up pipelines are two vastly different crimes.” Garrett looked to Bridger. “Seen anything like that over in Europe?”
Bridger looked down at his notes. “Broken windows. Graffiti. Disturbing the peace. But nothing that would land anyone in the hospital or the morgue.”
Garrett felt a little funny defending the Order, but as a law enforcement officer he knew that there was a big disctinction between unbridled passion and extreme violence. He wasn’t excusing the former. But he didn’t want to waste his time going down any pointless rabbit holes.
Kai looked hopeful. “So, you’re saying that you don’t suspect it’s us?”
Bridger took a sip of his coffee, seeming to buy time while he thought. “At this point, there’s not any direct link to Cosmic Order. But I found something else.” He spread several printed newspaper articles out across the table. “There were other incidents similar to what happened here, each one in a time span of about five years, at different places across the globe.”
Kai took a minute to study the articles. “None of these mention the Order.”
“Not specifically,” Bridger agreed. “All different environmental organizations, each with names that are dumber than the next.” He smiled and added, “No offense.”
Kai stayed focused on the news stories. “Then what does that have to do with us?”
Bridger slid a stack of papers that looked like a report over to Kai. Each section was marked with yellow Post-it Notes. “Did some research on your funding, and that’s where it all gets real complicated. Looks like you’ve got some skilled accountants and lawyers.”
Garrett kept himself from laughing. His brother was a master of corporate shell games, largely because he’d done it with the best of them. “Okay, what are we looking at here?”
Bridger shrugged. “Nothing that out of the ordinary on the surface. Cosmic Order is funded by an environmental philanthropy called Earth Action Now. They’re the face of the movement. Highly connected. Pretty big lobby all over Europe, Canada, and the United States.”
“That’s no secret.” Kai seemed a little defensive. “Just look on the internet. You can find the connection there without a whole lot of searching.”
“Oh, I did.” A wry smile spread across Bridger’s face. “But did you also know that Earth Action Now gets the lion’s share of its backing from Ressource Absolue, an oil and gas company based out of Marseille, France?”
“Energy company,” Kai corrected, as he clearly flew into protective mode. “Absolue is one of the good guys. They were founded as an oil and gas company, but they’re aggressively moving toward renewables. You should look at what they’re doing to promote wind and solar.”
“Saw that too. Looks like they’ll be fully transitioned to green energy in about fifty years.”
“It takes time,” Kai argued.
“Hell of a long time,” Bridger agreed. “The company and all its executives will make billions on oil and gas between now and then.”
Wanting to prevent an argument, Garrett intervened. “What are you getting at, Bridger? Hypocrisy isn’t a crime. A lot of companies do that. Absolue is just playing the game.”
“Yeah, it’s a game for sure.” Bridger pointed to an article with the headline that read “Activists Disrupt Pipeline Expansion.” The lead paragraph identified Nature First as the face of the protests. “A little more digging,” Bridger added, “and you find that Absolue was up for the bid on this particular project. Press got so bad for the rival energy company up against them that they ultimately pulled out of the running and slinked away in disgrace.”
“Who ended up getting the pipeline project?” Garrett asked.
Bridger looked like he had just laid down a royal flush. “Well, who do you think?”
Kai, on the other hand, looked sick to his stomach. “When did this happen?”
“About two years ago.” Bridger pointed to the other articles with similar headlines. “Wherever you go, there’s a nexus between Absolue, Earth Action Now, and some frontline group of environmental radicals. And that connection is symbiotic. Relationship goes back with multiple vanguard organizations that all just disappear when something bad happens like a protest gets out of hand, or someone gets hurt, and investigators start closing in.”
Garrett took a moment to process what he was hearing. “Okay, then it sounds like Cosmic Order might just be Absolue’s next fall guy.”
Bridger’s research certainly married up with Kai’s confession that Cosmic Order was taking its cues from overseas. But a corporate boogeyman was one problem. The bigger issue was that there was an operative on the ground. And there was a good chance he would strike again.
“If that’s true,” Kai said to Garrett, “then we need to do something. The question is what.”
Garrett took a sip of his coffee. “First and foremost, we need to find that Frenchman.”
“Frenchman?” Bridger asked surprised.
“Simon Cloutier,” Kai answered. “He was sent in from our headquarters office in Switzerland. But it looks like he went missing from my camp a couple hours ago.”
“Pulled a gun on Smitty,” Garrett added. “Of course, you can’t hold it against him. Guilty of that once myself.”
Bridger furrowed his brow. “Frenchman on the loose around here shouldn’t be hard to find.”
It was true that the man would stick out, but only because he was about a couple of centuries too late. French pioneers were among the first to explore the area around the Canadian River. In fact, it was rumored that the name itself came from a group of French traders who’d noted the presence of Canadian merchants at the confluence with the Arkansas River.
Kai looked to Garrett. “What do you think finding Cloutier will prove? He’s not going to admit to blowing anything up. Even if you throw him in that oil pit.”
“Oil pit?” Bridger glared at Garrett. “What’s he talking about?”
Garrett winced. “Trust me, Bridger. It’s better you don’t know.” He turned to Kai. “You’re right. But if Cloutier is the bomber, then there’s a good chance that he’s either scouted or will be scouting other locations to hit.”
Kai gave an approving nod. “But how do you narrow the search? There has to be a million facilities he can hit around here. And you said it yourself, pipelines are running everywhere.”
“You can narrow it down like this.” Bridger pulled up a map on his laptop of pipelines in the area. He pointed to an intersection of pipe. “Once the Mescalero Compressor Station went down, this one took up the slack. This one goes offline and we’re sunk. We’ll be down for months.”
Garrett studied the photo. It was inside the perimeter of the Washita Game Ranch. The property, nearly three thousand acres, was surrounded by a fence that was ten feet high. Because of the whitetail trophy deer roaming the area, it was monitored closely for poachers. It wouldn’t be impossible for someone to cut the wire or disable the locks, but whoever was coming in or out would no doubt be caught on one of the dozens of security and trail cameras.
Garrett looked to Kai. “I know the guy who runs the place. He’ll give me the code to get into the front gate and office. Let’s go see if Cloutier has popped up on his feed. If we find him snooping around by the Washita Compressor Station, then I think we’ve got our man.”
Bridger perked up. “I’ll keep researching on my end. Got a text into a law school buddy of mine in Houston with Baker Botts. His firm has done a good bit of work with Absolue. Maybe he’ll have some intel we can use.”
“Good deal. In the meanwhile, we’ll do our best to find this Simon Cloutier, or whatever his real name is. I’m assuming that it’s an alias. I’ll get the sheriff to run it.”
“You really think Cloutier’s the guy?” Kai asked Garrett, looking a little squeamish. “That he’s connected with one of these other groups that were working for Absolue?”
“Nothing’s for certain just yet. But he’s the best suspect we have now given what we know. And I think the quicker we find him, the quicker we get to the bottom of all this.”
“Need anything else?” Bridger asked.
Garrett held up his coffee mug. “How about a to-go cup? Our work’s just getting started.”
41
Ike Hodges couldn’t have been any more stunned had Crystal Smitty walked in dragging a dead skunk and smacked him with it upside the head. It was the first time she had returned to Crippled Crows after putting in her two weeks’ notice years earlier. He would’ve been a lot happier to see the best waitress he’d ever had if it wasn’t the middle of the night.
The hour of the visit, coupled with the serious look on her face, meant there was trouble.
Sliding from behind the bar, Ike made his way through the crowd and met Crystal halfway. But before he could playfully scold her for staying gone so long, she had him in a hug, generating a few cocked eyes from some drunk nosy patrons. Which meant it was time for some privacy.
Aside from the crowd noise and blaring electric guitar solo onstage from Comanche Moon’s lead singer, he didn’t like the idea of being gawked at by customers. It had taken years to build his reputation as a not to be screwed with owner of the World’s Trashiest Dive Bar and he hated to think that the countless ass kickings dished had all been for naught.
Ike broke away from his guest and rested his forearm over her shoulder. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “How about a little bourbon to warm you up?”
Crystal waved her hand at him. “Been on more of a chardonnay kick lately.” She added with a smile. “Just a minute of your time will do. I can’t stay long.”
Ike looked at her askance. Crystal’s time hobnobbing with the Kaisers hadn’t just resulted in a different appearance. Apparently, it had altered her palate too. “Well, step into my office then.” He pointed to the door behind his bar. “Let’s get away from all this racket.”
Crystal led and Ike followed her inside his office. Just like old times, he sat atop the floor safe while she eased in behind the desk. Had anyone walked through the door, they would’ve thought she owned the place. While he was happy to see this former party girl settle down and get focused on Ray and Savanah, it made him a little sad.
Turning down a drink was his first clue that she’d changed. And truth be told, he’d always been partial to bleach blond and skintight. But the darker hair, and business casual attire, showed that she’d really moved on since becoming Vicky Kaiser’s assistant. And it suited her just fine.
Crystal picked up Ike’s cell phone, which was buried under a mess of papers. “Guess this explains why you didn’t answer my calls.”
Ike felt a little guilty, but the damn thing was starting to feel like a ball and chain. “Sorry about that. Probably should keep it close since I got rid of my landline.”
Crystal looked at him curiously. “Why’d you get rid of your phone?”
“Nothing but trouble on the other end usually. I’ve learned over the years that anybody who wanders into a place like this doesn’t want to be found.”
There had been plenty of wives looking for husbands, and sometimes the other way around. But with age he’d become more reclusive. Ike understood the need to drop out of sight, unwind with a drink, and just be left alone. Basking in the neon, whiskey in hand, with some outlaw country playing in the background for some folks was just what the doctor ordered.
As Crystal leaned forward, her smile vanished. “I needed to find you for a good reason.”
“If you’re here this late, I’m guessing it’s kind of pressing. We can save the small talk for another day. What’s on your mind?”
“Actually, it’s two things, Ike. You’re the only one around here who knows about one of them. Which means I gotta talk about it with you.”
If there was ever a place in the world where terrible secrets were made it was Crippled Crows. But there was only one confided to him by Crystal that he swore he’d take to the grave. “This about Duke?”
Crystal swallowed hard and gave a single nod.
“What about the other issue?” Ike asked.
“Well, it’s related to Duke in an odd way. Or I don’t know. Maye it’s not.” Crystal was clearly flustered. “Sorry I’m not making much sense. I’m just stressed.”
This time, Ike leaned forward. “What’s going on?”
“Savanah can’t be found for starters.” Crystal paused, looking as if she was replaying the situation in her mind. “Well, not just Savanah. Asadi and Duke are missing too.”
