Righteous02 - Mighty and Strong (26 page)

“No way I’m leaving until we pull this off.”

“And things are cool up there?” he asked.

“No worries, the Senator is in Provo tonight, speaking to a gathering of sheriffs from across the state. A room of armed law enforcement isn’t the best time to try anything, know what I mean? That goes until eleven. He’s then returning to his hotel and our guys will be with him. By the time McKay leaves for Salt Lake tomorrow morning, we should be wrapped up here.”

“Bad timing,” Chambers said. “Sure we shouldn’t wait until we’ve got this business at Temple Square behind us?”

“Look at it this way,” Krantz said. “Either the cult is planning something for tomorrow, or not. If they’re not, they’re not as dangerous as we’re guessing. We’ll get into the compound, get our girl, the informant and his family, get out.”

“And if they
are
planning something against Senator McKay?”

“Then no better time to run our operation. We’ll knock them off their game plan.” He tried to sound more confident than he felt. “We’ve got a full SWAT in Salt Lake with sniper and assault contingents. This compound team is an HRT. It can do the job.”

“Sevare vitas,”
Chambers said in an ironic tone.

It was Latin for “to save lives,” the motto of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. HRT was more advanced than a typical SWAT team, with the ability to fast-rope from helicopters into the center of a hostile environment. Perfect for Zarahemla.

Chambers had trained with HRT, had performed two missions, although he hadn’t talked much about either one. Reading between the lines, following press and Google, Krantz thought one had been a joint Delta Force operation in Afghanistan, and the second might have been a botched attack in Colombia that left one agent dead and killed two of the three American businessmen being held. Drug-related raids, in both cases.

Either way, the experience made Chambers the best man to run the second team in Krantz’s two-pronged attack.

“Be careful,” Krantz said. “Don’t let personal feelings screw with your judgment.”

“Like how? Like I’m going in there with guns blazing, because these guys are assholes who deserve to get theirs for what they did to Fayer?”

“Frankly, yeah. Something exactly like that.”

“I’m a professional. There isn’t going to be another Waco.”

“Good. Look, my goal isn’t to micromanage. I’ll be too busy keeping my own guys alive to give you two seconds thought. But I need you to keep those HRT guys in check.”

“They’re professionals, too. Nobody wants to put a bullet in some kid’s head because he pops out of a closet at the wrong time.”

“No, of course not.” He chewed on his lip, tried to pinpoint exactly what it was that was giving him second thoughts.

Chambers cocked his head, put his hand to the piece at his ear. “Good…No, that’s enough…Okay, then…Oh-one hundred hours, plus what?” He looked at his watch. “Twelve minutes? That gives us three hours to set up the arrays, get the ground team ready. Perfect.”

He turned back to Krantz. “The helicopters depart at 1:12 AM. They fast-drop us in, it’ll be over in ten minutes.”

God, if only it could be that easy.

Chapter Twenty-five:

Fernie didn’t look happy when she came from the bathrooms before bed. She looked at Jacob and shook her head.

He sat in the corner with the children, who he’d tucked among blankets and pillows on the floor. He’d sang songs until Nephi fell asleep, then told stories to the older two. Inside, he was a bundle of knots.

Jacob was sure he could escape from Zarahemla alone. With Fernie and Miriam, almost as sure. But what about the children? Nephi might cry out, and even Daniel and Leah would be scared and might make noise. He’d toyed with the idea of giving them a narcotic in their milk at bedtime. But they might have to walk a long distance. He needed them mobile and not dead weight.

Leah didn’t make it through the story of David and Goliath, but Daniel stayed awake while Jacob continued with Jesus healing the lepers, and then Helaman and the stripling warriors from the Book of Mormon. Daniel started blinking and yawning.

Jacob broke from the story when Fernie entered. “Everything okay?”

“Sister Miriam gave me a message to pass you.”

“Yes?”

“I’m your wife, why would you keep this from me?”

“Is that jealousy I hear?” He tried to keep his voice light. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Her tone hardened. “Seriously, did you think I wouldn’t be upset?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. We had to meet with Brother Timothy, and if you were scared and nervous, I didn’t think we could pull it off.”

“Pull what off? You think Timothy is behind this?”

“How much do you know?”

“Enough. Miriam told me about the body, that it was the same girl Brother Timothy mentioned at dinner. But I can’t imagine he’d do that. Or authorize it. Or even know about it.”

Jacob joined her on the bed. He dimmed the light. “Because he seems nice?”

“He’s sincere. Earnest. You can see it, can’t you? I haven’t decided yet if he’s a prophet, but if he’s a fraud, I don’t know anything about anything.”

“Maybe he believes what he’s saying,” Jacob said, “or maybe he is somebody, just not
the
somebody, the One Mighty and Strong. You remember all that about Devorah’s purity? I can’t help wonder if he wasn’t comparing her with Emma Green. Maybe Emma said or did something that wasn’t pure, and it got her in trouble.”

“Lots of people worry about keeping girls pure for marriage. It doesn’t make them murderers.”

“So he’s not a murderer. Someone is. It’s a small community. Maybe forty, fifty men in total and it’s got to be one of them. Do you want your children staying here while we find out who?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What was Miriam’s message?”

“She’s coming around one o’clock, says that will give enough moonlight and time to reach the highway before dawn.”

“Good.” He glanced into the corner. “We’ll let the children sleep until she gets here, see if we can carry them without waking them until we leave the compound. Then the older kids can walk the rest of the way.”

Fernie let out a long sigh. “I guess there’s no other choice.”

“Not that I can see.”

“And Miriam is coming all the way?” she asked. “She’s planning to tell the FBI what she knows?”

“She was reluctant, but yeah, I think I talked her into it. Either way, it won’t be our responsibility.”

“Okay, but tell me something. What happens when they solve the crime? If it turns out Brother Timothy had nothing to do with it, can we come back?”

“Whatever for? We were making a good life in Salt Lake.”

“No, Jacob. Really, we weren’t. We were holding on. We were surviving. We weren’t living.”

“As soon as we figure out this garbage with the Attorney General and I get my job back, get a couple of paychecks banked—”

“I’m not talking about money, I’m talking about everything else. About walking into the grocery store and having people stare, about needing help and not having a single person to call. I used to dream about getting out of the desert and going to live with real people, living real lives.” She shook her head. “It’s a different kind of desert in the city. People are like—I don’t know—like tumbleweeds blowing down the street. Every once in a while they pile up together, but then the wind comes and they’re all gone. Does that make any sense at all?”

“Yes.”

She grabbed his hand, so hard it almost hurt. “I want to live where I’m nurtured and supported. Where people put down roots.”

“I hear what you’re saying, I really do.”

“Do you? Do you really? Zarahemla is different. People care. They’re good people and they want us here.”

“But I don’t want to come back. I don’t want what they’re offering, and I can’t give them what they’re asking.”

“Is this nothing more than you don’t want to marry Devorah?”

“No, it’s not.”

“But you don’t, do you? You don’t want to marry her. I knew it.”

“Fernie, you must be the only woman who accuses her husband of staying faithful behind her back.”

“I want to follow the will of the Lord, is that so bad?”

“So do I. And as soon as he tells me personally, I’ll be sure to do it.”

“Oh, Jacob. Do you always have to be so glib?” She sighed. “Never mind, I’m too tired to argue. Let’s make sure we’re ready when Sister Miriam comes.”

#

The helicopters lifted into the sky. Krantz’s stomach lurched. Even with headphones, it was loud. The thumping rotors throbbed through his body.

“Birds are in the air,” he said into his headset. “Drop on schedule.”

The response crackled in his headphones. “Perimeter team on alert.”

It was dark in the helicopter and the others weren’t moving or making a sound, but he could sense their presence around the interior. They would be running through the playbook, like football players after the snap.

As they dropped into the courtyard, each member would cover his or her Area of Responsibilities. This ensured full coverage, kept them from tripping over each other, and enabled members to react to threats as they appeared.

Krantz heard chatter from the pilots up front, two men from the FBI’s Tactical Helicopter Unit. They were flying dark, so they kept direct communication with the ground and with the second black hawk, coming in behind. Once over the compound they would hover over their respective targets while the two teams fast-roped into the two preselected courtyards.

• He double-checked his equipment, his M-5 submachine gun, the stun grenades at his belt, extra ammo, night-vision goggles. Why was it taking so long? In that thin moment, when the battle was inevitable, but hadn’t yet arrived, time seemed to slow. His thoughts raced, tried to imagine every contingency.
  

Impossible. Until the action started, until guns fired or didn’t fire, until the enemy fled or attacked, until the play worked, or the opposing defensive tackle burst through your offensive line and slammed your quarterback to the ground, there were only guesses. It drove him crazy to sit there, thinking.

And so he checked equipment. And checked again.

The helicopters swooped in at 150 miles per hour and within minutes they’d covered the distance from their base to the compound. Krantz’s harness tightened as the birds slowed. A red light blinked overhead.

“Bird One in position,” he said into his headset.

“Bird Two in position,” came Chambers’s voice in the headphones.

He pulled on night-vision goggles. From around him came the sound of harnesses unbuckling. Then, in the red light, Krantz saw the hoist pole thrust the rope into the darkness. It was braided, almost 40 centimeters thick to keep from getting whipped around in the rotor wash.

He stepped to the open door. He couldn’t see the ground. He clipped his belt harness to the rope, then grabbed the first figure-eight descender—meant to slow him from absolute freefall—and leaned his weight onto the rope. He gripped it with his gloved hands, his knee pads, and his boots. Trusting your weight to the rope that first moment was the hardest. After that, instincts kicked in.

Krantz dropped into the compound.

Chapter Twenty-six:

Sister Miriam didn’t bother to knock. She pushed open the unlocked door and stepped into the room, then pulled it shut behind her.

Jacob and Fernie were awake. He sat on the bed, turning over details of Emma’s murder in his head. One person or two? A crime of jealousy, anger? Did it have anything to do with her interest in Jacob? Meanwhile, Fernie sat at the table, reading her Book of Mormon by the half-dimmed lamp light. She’d had the book open to the same page for fifteen minutes and was visibly struggling to maintain attention. As soon as Miriam entered, she sprang to her feet.

“Ready?” Miriam asked.

Fernie shoved her book into the bag she’d brought to the compound. She swung the strap over her shoulder, made her way to the baby, wrapped him in his blanket, and lifted him gently from his bedding. Nephi stirred, but didn’t wake.

Jacob picked up Daniel, who muttered something, opened his eyes, then fell back asleep against Jacob’s shoulder.

He turned to Miriam. “Can you get Leah?”

“Hate to have my hands full, but I guess there’s no other choice.”

“Anyone catches us, it won’t matter if our hands are full or not,” Fernie said. “Unless one of you has come up with a good story to explain all this.”

“Explain why we’re sneaking out in the middle of the night?” Jacob asked. “Uhm, the devil made us do it?”

“Guess we can always finger you,” Miriam said. “Say that
you
made us do it.”

“Right, we’re just women,” Fernie said. “How could we tell you no?”

“So yeah,” Jacob said, “the devil made you do it.”

Miriam had their daughter now. They were three for three on sleeping children. Thank goodness for small miracles. “You ready?” she asked. “Good, then one final thing and we go. I’m in charge. Sorry about the priesthood and all, but it’s time to trust the FBI training.”

“So it’s Agent Kite again, is it?” he asked.

“Yes. For the moment.”

“You got it,” Jacob said.

They slipped into the arcade outside their room. A sharp wind blew down from the hills. As it hit the interior it thrumbed like the deepest string on a bass guitar. Moonlight cast the courtyard in shadows.

Miriam led the way. At first they moved deeper into the compound, following the arcades, beneath each archway and into the subsequent courtyard. Daniel stirred and Jacob wrapped the blanket over his head, slowed to let him settle down. His arms were already complaining, but he didn’t dare shift Daniel’s head to his other shoulder.

The two women carrying the other children waited at the next archway until he caught up. He started to continue through, but Miriam blocked his way with her shoulder.

“Listen,” she whispered.

At first he didn’t hear it, just the wind, which was louder, even more resonant here, beneath the archway. That thrumming, almost a throb. Rhythmic. Louder, still.