Unmanned (9780385351263) (34 page)

“You got an ID on the victim yet?” Barb asked. Steve perked up, eager.

“Maybe we do, maybe we don’t,” Earl said.

“Goddammit, Earl!”

“Keep your shirt on, Calbert. I ain’t telling ’em nothing more.” Then, to Barb: “We’ll be releasing all that later, after the proper notifications have been made.”

“Maybe,” Calbert said.

Their punishment for having tromped across the crime scene, probably.

The tech was now down on his knees with a flashlight and tweezers and another of his plastic bags. He had placed little metal sticks with orange DayGlo flags at spots where there must be footprints. Steve made a mental note of where the flags were in relation to the body, the driveway, and certain trees, in case all this stuff was cleared away when they came out later. He turned and joined the others.

Cole waited for them to pass, then dropped into step behind them. They reached the driveway single file, then walked four abreast back to the house. Twenty yards later Barb brought them to a halt, holding up her hand like a patrol leader in a combat film.

“Listen. You hear that?”

A rumble of engines, from the upper end of the drive. They turned and saw more headlight beams working their way down toward the scene.

“You people get moving, you hear?” Calbert called out. He stepped out into the driveway as if to make sure. “Don’t make me come arrest you, now.”

“Must be somebody they don’t want us to see,” Barb said.

“The feds?” Steve asked.

“Maybe. But which ones?”

“I said move it. Right now!” Good lord, he’d actually drawn his sidearm.

“Relax,” Steve said. “We’re going.”

And they were, although slowly, and while glancing over their shoulders. Steve thought he could see the outline of a big dark SUV of some sort. A Chevy Suburban, or maybe that was just wishful thinking, since he knew Suburbans were often the choice of federal law enforcement. No tags were even close to being visible from this far off, and pretty soon they were too far down the driveway to see much of anything except the glow of lights.

They were just arriving at the house when Steve’s cell phone rang.

He pulled it from his pocket and checked the display, but the incoming number was blocked—which gave him a clue as to who it might be. And that surprised him a bit, shocked him even. It was 4:43 a.m., and the grapevine was already lighting up to spread the word. The cops must have notified someone very early based on something they’d found at the scene.

“Hello,” he answered. The reply was the voice he expected.

“Sounds like an eventful night down your way.”

“Figured I might hear from you, but not this soon. What do you know about this?”

The other three had stopped to listen.

“Very little, Old Pro. Probably less than you. But what I do know is significant, and I’m calling to say that you can stand down. The quarry has not only been treed, it has been brought down.”

It took Steve a second to add it up.

“Fort1? The body is Wade Castle’s?”

The other three watched him closely. His mind was in a whirl, but he knew he needed to take care not to make some sort of slipup that would compromise the Source’s identity.

“Please, Old Pro. No blurting of names, not on this line.”

“Sorry. But is it him?”

“The one and only.”

“Why? And who would’ve done it?”

“Good questions. Wish I had the answers.”

“What
do
you know?”

“Nothing I can talk about now. Maybe never, which is why I’m going to hang up. Loose lips and all that, Old Pro.”

“Our work’s not finished.”

“But your story is. That’s what happens when you no longer have a living, breathing subject. It passes into history. And we’re surely finished as well. Thanks for the drinks, though.”

“You can’t do this, asshole!”

But the asshole had already done it, hanging up and vanishing into the ether. And as the other three stared at him questioningly, Steve was left to wonder whether any of his efforts, with all their tricky compromises, had ever been worth it.

BY SUNRISE THE BODY WAS GONE
. Cole walked out there and saw tire tracks and footprints, pressed into the mud like fossils, but there were no more orange flags or webs of yellow tape. The grass was flattened where the body had been, with a stiff circular bloodstain that made it look like the scene of a sacrificial rite. He was surprised to find Sharpe kneeling at the fringes like some monk in solemn meditation.

“You’re the last one I expected to find here.”

“The ghoul patrol has already paid its respects. By the time they got back to the house they were already arguing. Woke me up, so I had to go
somewhere.
Ready to fly?”

“Doubt we’ll have much of an audience.”

“Fuck ’em. Long as they don’t try to stop me. I’m just worried the police will be back. Wouldn’t want them to see what I’m up to. So we should get started early.”

“I need coffee first.”

“Have at it. They’re probably at full volume by now. I’ll be setting up in the peace of the great outdoors.”

Cole turned to go.

“Tell me something,” Sharpe said.

He turned back around. Sharpe looked troubled.

“Yeah?”

“I get why Castle came. Everyone here’s been poking around in his business. But the gun? And the idea of someone stalking him, trying to kill him? That should’ve happened long ago or not at all. Doing it now makes no sense.”

“Maybe he’d done something new. Pissed off the wrong people.”

“And exactly who are the
right
people in this mess?”

“Good question.”

Sharpe nodded, still frowning. “I’m having trouble getting used to the idea that someone died here. All these years of designing shit to kill people, but I’ve never been around something like this. There’s even a smell to it.”

“I know. It’s freaky.”

“You, too? Weren’t you around combat way before the drone shit? Didn’t you even have an air-to-air kill?”

“That was a ball of flame, way off in the distance. I didn’t even get a good look at it. Like you said, this is right in your face, with its own texture.”

“Maybe it’s good for us. Not to get all cosmic, but we both
knew
the man, for God’s sake.”

“Hard to see how something like this is good for anybody.”

When Cole reached the house, the others were deep in subdued conversation. He poured a mug of coffee and stood in the kitchen door while they traded theories and ideas.

“What I’d really like to know,” Steve said, “is why Castle had a sniper rifle.”

Barb frowned.

“Who said it was a sniper rifle?”

“Well, it had a damn scope. And I don’t think it was for deer.”

“He has to have known we were after him,” Keira said.

“Meaning what?” Barb said. “That he was going to plug us?”

“But why shoot
him
?”

None of them had answers, but Barb had a follow-up question.

“So, whoever did this, do you think it’s safe to surmise they’re on our side? Or at least that they’re not against us?”

No one had an answer for that, either.

“Well, one thing I know. It sure as hell doesn’t kill our story. If that’s what your source thinks, Steve, then he’s out of his mind.”

“I was about to tell him that when he hung up.”

“First there was Castle. Now there’s the cover-up, and this is part of it. It makes it even bigger. The cover-up always does.”

Keira’s cell phone rang. She went into the hallway for privacy. They heard her speaking in a low voice, and she was back in a few minutes.

“That was Tony, my cop source. They’ve made an arrest.”

“Shit, already?”

“Then it sure as hell wasn’t the feds,” Steve said. “They clean up their messes and get the hell out.”

“Not always, I guess,” Keira said.

“It
was
the feds?”

“Depends on your definition.” She turned toward Cole. The others turned with her. “It’s some guy from the Air Force. Based at Nellis.”

Cole almost dropped his coffee.

“Got a name?”

She checked her notebook

“Captain Trip Riggleman. Had his Nellis ID with him. Also had a Beretta M9 pistol, camouflage, a rough map of the property
—this
property—night vision goggles, and a bunch of printouts with our names on them, the names of everybody in this room except Sharpe. But most of his notes had to do with a missing former Air Force pilot, Captain Darwin Cole.”

“Shit,” Barb said. “Shit, shit, shit! How do you spell his name?”

Keira told her. Barb flipped open her laptop and began clicking away, already looking for more. Steve and Keira gazed at Cole, as if he might have some answers. And he did.

“I think I’ve
met
the guy. That aggressors unit, the one I told you about with the Infowar stuff? He practically ran it. He’s the nerdy guy who cleaned our clocks. Gave his presentation like he owned us. By the time we left everybody hated his ass. But a killer? An
assassin
?” Cole put his mug on the table. The idea refused to sink in. “There’s just no way. He’s a clipboard guy, he just isn’t the type.”

“Or wasn’t,” Steve said. “He had all the right gear. Maybe they trained him up?”

“Maybe so.” The ramifications began to sink in. “Damn. So I guess if he knew where I was, then the whole Air Force must know by now.”

“He works for General Hagan,” Barb said, clicking feverishly. “Out at Nellis, the next guy up the ladder at Creech in your old chain of command. I was researching Hagan’s financials just the other day. Found some weird stuff, too. Why would he want you dead, Cole?”

“Whoa. Who says he did?”

“Okay, maybe not dead. But I doubt he was here to make nice. Then he ends up in some kind of firefight with Castle, and his plans go down the toilet.”

“Or maybe they were working together,” Keira said, “and something went wrong. An accident, even.”

“Let’s think this through from our end,” Steve said. “We need to marshal our resources and jump on it before the trail goes cold.”

“I’ll try to get more from the cops,” Keira said. “Maybe I can get a look at all the stuff he had with him.”

“Good. I’ve got some federal law enforcement sources. If this guy has a history of going rogue, they might have some leads.”

“I’ll keep running the financial stuff,” Barb said. “Maybe there’s a connection.”

Then they all looked at Cole.

“Now’s your time to shine, big guy,” Steve said. “These are your people.”

“You’re forgetting something. To them, I’m discharged and AWOL. Persona non grata.”

“What about your wingman, the guy you emailed?” Barb said.

“Zach? I don’t even know if he’s answered.”

She made a few clicks and turned around her laptop.

“Then maybe it’s time to check.”

Cole signed on to his Gmail account while the others watched.

“Shit. He replied yesterday, and there’s an attachment. Five of them. Video files, they’re huge. And they’re dated.”

“Transcripts?”

“Looks like it. Everything I asked for, plus one more. A Lancer reference, from the recon we fucked up. He must have remembered it, too.”

“So Tangora’s on there?” Barb asked with an edge to her voice, almost like she was afraid to hear the answer.

“Yeah. It is. You can watch it with me, if you want.”

She considered it a second, then shook her head.

“Maybe later, some other time. Or maybe never. But definitely not today. I need to stay on top of my game right now.”

“How ’bout I just send you a copy?”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Is all this mission stuff still relevant?” Steve asked.

“I think it is. Or might be. Even with Castle dead, Mansur’s still floating around somewhere. All those fuckups with Magic Dimes, plus everything Barb saw. There still has to be a reason for it.”

“A reason good enough to come down here to kill Wade Castle?”

“Maybe.”

“Leave him to it,” Barb said. “It could even explain why they sent this guy Riggleman. And for all we know your friend Zach could be in the stockade by now.”

Cole hadn’t thought of that, but she was probably right, and it pained him. He looked again at Zach’s message, with its reference to a “pencil pusher” out at Creech, asking about Cole and making everyone uneasy. Riggleman, maybe. He should have checked his emails earlier.

The house was in full motion now. Keira already had her car keys and was ready to go. Steve was on the phone, talking loudly and gesturing with his free hand as he walked toward the kitchen. Barb was off and running, having borrowed Keira’s laptop, apparently content to let Cole use hers to review his new trove of information. He needed a quiet place to work, so he picked up the laptop and headed for the living room. That’s when Sharpe came bursting through the front door.

“What’s got this beehive all stirred up?”

Cole told him about the arrest.

“Air Force? Doesn’t sound like their style.”

“I agree. But it is what it is. I’ve got news, too. My sensor sent me the video record of our missions at Sandar Khosh, both the recon and the attack, plus three others. So it looks like the flying’s going to have to wait while I go through everything.”

“Five missions? That could take hours. Days, even.”

“I can skip over most of it. I know when the relevant shit happened. But, yeah, today’s probably a washout.”

Sharpe looked put out, perhaps on the verge of an outburst. Then he sagged, as if the inevitability of it sank in. For once, he wasn’t in position to call the shots, and he knew it.

“Then I might as well watch with you. But let me put away the bird first, in case the cops come back.”

“I’ll get everything ready to roll. You bring the popcorn.”

Sharpe didn’t smile.

“You joke about it, but are you ready for this? I’ve watched these things before. They’re damn vivid. It’ll be like flying those missions all over again.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing for more than a year now, up in my head? This’ll just fill in some blanks.”

“Fair enough. Give me fifteen minutes.”