Forced to Kill (11 page)

“He’s concerned about your further involvement.”

“With all due respect, we don’t report to Lansing.”

“Technically, neither do I. My boss is in Los Angeles. In fact, Lansing said it was my call. He made it clear this operation is outside the normal chain of command and that I’m to report directly to him on all matters related to Montez. He also made it clear that letting you and Harv proceed involves risk for all of us, and that my political capital is all used up.”

“So you’re on the hook if we screw this up.”

“I made a deal. It’s the price of your admission.”

“The hell it is. You’re not taking the fall for anything. Period. If Lansing wants to get in the mud with me, he’ll regret it.”

“Nathan, please.…”

He heard the stress in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was contribute to it. “I’m sorry, Holly, I didn’t mean that. I’d never do anything to damage your relationship with him.”

“It’s okay. We’re all on edge. I just can’t stop thinking about that monster having Nichole Dalton and her daughters. It’s really tearing me up.”

“Yeah, me and Harv too.”

“Grangeland’s already in Salt Lake. I’ll have her meet you there.”

“Grangeland’s in Salt Lake?”

“Early this morning Lansing asked me to send one of my agents out there to do an assessment of Kramer’s body. Grangeland was the perfect choice. She has a master’s degree in forensic science. Plus, I had a feeling you’d end up there. She’ll get you into the ME’s facility.”

“Thanks, Holly.”

“We’re just pulling into Bullfrog’s airstrip,” Harv said. “We’ll be airborne in ten minutes. Can we call you after we land?”

“Please do. I’ll give you Grangeland’s cell number. You ready?”

Harv wrote it down.

“Have a safe flight. And don’t worry about Lansing and me. We have an… unspoken understanding.”

“He owes you a lot.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to put it quite that way.”

“Thanks again. For everything.”

“Have a safe flight, and give my regards to Grangeland.”

Chapter 14

Nathan hadn’t felt real talkative on the flight. Hearing Mary Grangeland’s voice had brightened his mood a little, but something continued to bug him. Something deep in his subconscious, more than just the sight of Kramer’s torture and murder, and more than the missing woman and her girls. The more he thought about it, the more elusive it became, like a lost thought during a conversation. It felt important, which made it even worse. Maybe he
would
do the hypnosis thing.

 All in all, he’d thought he done a pretty good job concealing the hatred he felt toward Montez. He knew Harv sensed it. There was little—if anything—he could hide from his friend. Deep down, he needed Harv’s stability more than Harv needed his maverick nature. One thing was certain, they were ten times stronger as a team.

He broke the silence. “How long to Salt Lake?”

“About thirty minutes. We’re coming up on Provo. You’ve been kinda quiet since we left the marina.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t have to.

“We don’t have to look at it.”

“Somehow that seems… I don’t know…”

“Cowardly?”

“I wasn’t going to use that word, but yeah.”

“Truth be told, I’m a little uneasy too.”

“We’ll get through this. It’s just a body.”

They looked at each other. No, it wasn’t
just a body
. Far from it. More like a malevolent version of Alice’s looking glass. A portal to a dark chapter in both their lives. A chapter neither of them wanted to revisit. Maybe the Company shrink had it right after all. Maybe hatred
is
the strongest of all human emotions. Nathan had survived his torture by tapping into what seemed like an endless supply of it.

  “You okay?” Harv asked.

“Huh?”

“You looked lost in thought.”

“Thinking about Montez.”

“Don’t obsess, okay?”

“I was starting to, thanks.”

Harv refolded his chart, putting Salt Lake City in the center of his knee board. “What are friends for?”

“I feel like there’s a time bomb in my head.”

“There
is
a time bomb in your head.”

“I was hoping for an argument.”

They flew in silence for a few minutes.

Harv said, “We ought to get on the horn to Salt Lake approach and request flight following from here on. It’s a beautiful day, there’re probably more than a few fixed wings around.”

“Good idea.”

South of Provo, Harv entered Salt Lake’s approach frequency into the NavCom and made contact. Harv entered the assigned squawk number into the transponder and hit the IDENT button. Salt Lake approach saw them on radar right away. The approach controller informed them of traffic at ten o’clock, climbing through 5,300. Harv acknowledged the call. A few minutes later, Salt Lake approach handed them off to the tower. Nathan made the approach while Harv worked the radio.

An employee from Salt Lake’s Million Air jet center directed them to a transient parking area. After the main rotor wound down, they stepped onto terra firma and stretched. The Bell 407 was a comfortable ride, but sitting for long periods of time took its toll. He did a quick walk around the ship. Everything looked good.

“There she is!” Harv said.

He turned toward the jet center, where Special Agent Mary Grangeland had just stepped through the sliding glass doors.

“Easy,” Harv said, “you’re staring.”

“I can’t help it.”

Grangeland waved.

Her lean physique, blue eyes, and blond hair made for a stunning combo. Her sidearm closed the deal. Fifty feet away, she almost broke into a run. He took a few steps toward her. She wrapped him up in a bear hug and didn’t let go.

“It’s good to see you, Nathan.”

Harv stepped forward. “Hey, save some of that for me.”

She let go and gave Harv a long hug too. To Nathan’s surprise, Grangeland had a single tear running down her cheek. She wiped it away. “Sorry about the emotional reunion.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Harv said and released her. “This is just what the doctor ordered. You look great. Everything okay? You made a full recovery?”

She patted her stomach. “I lost my gallbladder, but that’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said.

“The bullet missed my spine by an eyelash. All things being equal, I’m just glad to be alive.
And
walking.”

“Amen to that,” Harv added.

“I owe you guys my life.”

“That debt,” he said, “goes both directions. You took a bullet for us.”

Though as attractive as any woman he’d known, Grangeland had incredible physical strength, which, when combined with her combat training, made her a tough opponent. Under adversarial circumstances when they first met, Grangeland had challenged him to an open-handed fight—minus any head blows—and to his shock
and
admiration, she’d wrestled him into a half nelson in mere seconds. A rocky start, but their friendship had grown closer ever since. After the dust had settled, she told them she preferred being called Grangeland, not Mary. He had a hard time picturing her as “Mary” anyway. While working, she wore her hair in a utilitarian ponytail. Her eyes and strong cheekbones gave her a distinct Scandinavian look. Nathan had never asked her age but guessed she must be in her early thirties. Never married, it seemed. He’d have to ask about that sometime.

A tanker truck rumbled up to refuel the helicopter. The driver slid out and did a double take at Grangeland. She probably got that all the time. She smiled and the driver smiled back.

Despite himself, Nathan found his mood lifting.

The three of them started toward the jet center.

“You guys realize that you’ve become something of a legend in our Fresno office, don’t you?” asked Grangeland. “Unofficially, you’re known as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.”

“Who’s who?” Harv asked.

Nathan said, “That’s kinda obvious, Harv. A white guy. A brown guy.”

Harv objected. “Hey, I’m the one with the silver horse.”

“You own a horse?”

“Eight of them.”

“I love riding.”

Nathan smiled. “I’ll bet you do.”

She punched his arm.

“What?”

Chapter 15

Nathan used the drive to the medical examiner’s office to fill Grangeland in on everything they could. The call from Holly. The meeting with General Hawthorne. Bullfrog Bay. Stiegler’s houseboat. The Kramer crime scene. Thorny’s removal from the case and the ironclad implication that Kramer’s murder and the abduction of Nichole Dalton and her daughters were all linked to Montez.

Nathan knew she had a ton of questions. He forestalled them by pointing at his face. “We’re after the man who did this to me.”

Grangeland winced. “What can you tell me about him?”

“Not too much. In a nutshell, one of our missions went south and I fell into his hands. Harv got away. I didn’t. I was held captive for three weeks.”

She softened her voice. “Nathan, I’m sorry.”

“It happened a long time ago. When Harvey rescued me, I was close to death. He carried me through two miles of jungle at night.”

“I know you guys are really close, I just never knew why.”

“His name is Colonel Juan Montez de Oca, formerly of the Sandinista National Liberation Front. He’s a professional interrogator.”

“How will you find him?”

“We may not. He’s a trained spook.”

“Did seeing the crime scene spark anything?”

“That’s why we’re here.”

Harv cut in. “As far as we know, Nathan’s the only person on Earth to survive a Montez interrogation. If Montez finds out Nathan’s alive, we might as well paint a target on his forehead. We’re trying to keep our involvement under wraps for as long as possible.”

“Understood. I’m yours for as long as you need me.”

Nathan let Harv continue. His thoughts were elsewhere.

“You’re a proven asset,” Harv said. “We definitely want you on our team.”

“Can you tell me
anything
about your past? What you guys used to do?”

“We were a Marine scout sniper team, then CIA operations officers. That’s about all we can say. Sorry.”

“I can live with that.”

“Holly said you have a master’s degree in forensics?”

“Criminal science with an emphasis on forensics.”

“You’ve already seen Kramer’s body?”

She nodded.

“What did you think?”

“Well, at that time I didn’t know a professional interrogator had killed Kramer. It looked like some sort of ritual killing, but I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Now that I know a bit more about the suspect, I’d have to say there’s a savageness to the injuries that goes beyond what an interrogator would inflict strictly to extract information. Either way, I suppose my best guess remains the same. Montez is a severely twisted individual, bordering on psychopathic.”

“He’s all that, and more,” Harv said.

The onboard nav took them east, through downtown toward the mountains. The pleasant female voice issued turn-by-turn directions and deposited them into a large complex of medical buildings and offices. He could still call this off, but each passing minute made the decision more difficult.

She parked, cut the engine, and pivoted to face Nathan. “It’s not too late.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Inside the brick building, Grangeland flashed her FBI badge to the receptionist, who made a call and said Dr. Salk would be right with them.

Nathan took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. He relaxed his hands and focused on Grangeland. She offered a reassuring smile. Harv seemed equally nervous, but was much better at concealing it.

A man in a gray business suit stepped out of a door and extended his hand to Grangeland first. Not unexpected. They’d already met.

“Thank you for seeing us,” she said. “This is Nathan McBride and Harvey Fontana.”

“I’m Dr. Jonas Salk, no relation.” No doubt he said that to everyone. In his mid-fifties, Salk had thinning hair that looked a shade too dark. “I’m the chief medical examiner.”

Dr. Salk looked over the top of his black-rimmed glasses, obviously fascinated by the scars. Nathan was sorely tempted to lean in close and turn his head from side to side so Salk could “examine” the damage in all its glory. “Doctor,” he said, and shook hands.

Salk recovered his composure. “Would you… ah… like a brief tour first?”

“Thank you,” Grangeland said, “but we’ve a got another appointment after this.”

“No problem. This way, please.”

They followed Dr. Salk down a short hall. Salk spoke as they walked. “We’ve got the body in our refrigeration room. I didn’t want to bring it out until you arrived. I should warn you, it’s one of the worse cases of mutilation I’ve ever seen. Whoever did it knew what he, or she, was doing. The victim’s submergence in water washed the exterior applications, but we found traces of QuikClot in the victim’s bloodstream. The only reasonable conclusion is that his attacker didn’t want him to bleed to death. The margins also indicated cauterization. There still would’ve been significant bleeding, just not as much.”

Harv looked back and mouthed the words,
You okay?

He gave a tight nod. Montez hadn’t used a hot knife on him, but he
had
used a clotting agent that had stung like all hell.

They entered the examination room and he noticed the drop in temperature right away. It looked and smelled both sterile and chemical. Lots of shiny surfaces and stainless steel. Drainage sinks. Mobile instrument tables. Cabinets. Computer stations. Four autopsy tables lined one wall. A large stainless door on the far side of the room probably led to the walk-in refrigerator.

“I’ll need one of you to help me with the body.”

Harv volunteered.

He and Grangeland waited in the exam room.