ceased.
As expected, the female FBI agent took the opportunity to open the driver’s side door and sneak into the car. The woman was good, he could barely see her head sticking up as she stepped on the gas and spun dirt with her tires.
Barzani placed a hand on Mani’s shoulder while staring intently on the road in front of the car.
“Ready?’ Barzani asked.
“Yes, Sarock,” Mano said, hovering his thumb over a button on the remote control detonator. As the sheriff’s car fishtailed down the unpaved street, Mano timed the vehicle’s forward motion perfectly.
He pushed the button.
The car jumped up in a ball of flame as the explosion catapulted the vehicle five feet in the air. It tilted the car sideways and the charred shell skidded to a stop just before hitting a large pine. The blast echoed throughout the woods and Barzani couldn’t keep the smile from his face as debris from the car littered down over a stand of trees.
“Now,” Barzani said, nodding with satisfaction. “Now we can go.”
Matt raced down the gravel road and drove furiously until he saw the devastating sight. Jennifer’s car sat on its side, smoke drifting from its carcass.
Nick, Matt and Walt jumped out of the car and ran to the disfigured vehicle. Heat still steamed off the metal in shimmery waves.
Matt ran up to look inside the shell and saw nothing. He turned around in a circle searching for clues, then looked at the cabin and saw the upstairs windows open. He pulled out his Glock and said, “The house.”
Nick and Walt took attack positions around the perimeter of the cabin. Matt tried to catch his breath. Nick was already at the front door and gestured for him to take the back.
Matt’s heart pounded in desperation as he crept along the back wall of the house. He peeked up into a window and saw nothing unusual, but nightfall was making it difficult. His mind wandered dangerously to the fate of the only one he’d ever loved. Jennifer needed to be safe. Breathe, he thought. As he approached the back door, his hand trembled while reaching for the knob.
“Are you looking for me?” a female voice said behind him.
He whirled around to see Jennifer Steele smiling with leaves clinging to her jacket and dirt covering her face.
Matt grabbed her and squeezed her until she squealed, “I’m okay.”
Relief flooded his system. His vision blurred and he wiped his eyes to clear it.
“Hey,” Steele said, “you’re not getting moist on me are you?”
“What the … why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry, I dropped my phone in the car as I rolled out.”
“Rolled out?”
“Well,” she said, “you always taught me to watch for booby traps with these guys. I saw a bump in the road which looked like an IED, so I jammed a rock on the accelerator and rolled out and down that incline.”
“Are they gone?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t raise my head to see what they were driving, Matt. Sorry.”
He gathered her in his arms again. “It’s okay.”
The back door opened and Walt said, “You better get in here.”
Before they even reached the kitchen Matt could smell death in the air. Luke sat in a chair, his arms hanging limp, his head slumped down. When Matt circled around the deputy, he could see the long slice mark across his neck. The blood had drained out and left nothing to hope for.
Nick leaned over and kissed Luke on the forehead, then turned and put his hand over his mouth as he paced a small oval.
On Luke’s chest was a piece of paper jammed into his torso with a boning knife. The note read, “You’re next.”
“Shit,” Matt said.
Nick’s pace quickened as he simply shook his head and murmured obscenities.
Walt looked at Steele. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“You see them leave?”
“No,” she said, with a tinge of shame on her face. “I had to take cover.”
They seemed to stay quiet while Nick worked things out in his head. Finally, he turned to Steele and pointed. “Call the State Police and get roadblocks up on 60 and 260. Maybe fifty miles out. Did you get the color of the vehicle?
“It was a white SUV. Maybe a Suburban?”
“Give them what you know. Tell them it’s a long shot, but prepare them.”
Steele fished her hand into Matt’s pocket and pulled out his phone, then went outside for the call.
Nick pointed to Walt. “You need to get to L.A.”
Walt cocked his head in apparent confusion.
“Because,” Nick said, “if I’m wrong about LAX, they’ll crucify you. And right now I can’t afford to have anyone else I care about get hurt.”
Walt didn’t argue. He had a family to feed as well.
“Besides,” Nick added, “you go over there and cause a big ruckus, it might give Barzani a false sense of security. Like we’ve lost their scent.”
Sirens blared nearby.
Nick adjusted his arm sling. He looked down at Luke with a tight chin. “Walt,” he said, “before you go, get Stevie Gilpin on the red eye. Have him bring his bag of toys with him.”
Walt crossed his arms. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Nick squinted.
“You’re the Sherriff of Gila County, Arizona. I can’t exactly be giving you access to all this confidential FBI stuff.”
Nick’s eyes roamed around the room as if searching for something. “Then reinstate me,” he said.
From his inside jacket pocket, Walt pulled out a worn leather badge case. He handed it to Nick with a sad smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 14
Julie Bracco packed the last of her things and dropped her bag on the living room floor. She looked at Matt and Jennifer Steele cuddled up on the couch watching the evening news.
“Anything else on?” she said, pulling her hair back into a tight bun. A local Payson reporter stood a distance away from the abandoned KSF safe house. The news crew had illuminated the scene for the viewers and offered Nick’s written statement announcing the terrorists’ escape, the death of Deputy Luke Fletcher, and the possibility of Kurdish militants still operating in the vicinity. Nick had given the news media FBI’s hotline number to report any suspicious behavior. Meanwhile, he had the Baltimore Field Office e-mail over pictures of Temir Barzani and a couple of his known soldiers.
Matt sat with his hand on his forehead seemingly in complete disgust with the report, as if being forced to relive the day was too much for him. He pushed the remote and found a college basketball game on ESPN.
Steele yawned. “Well, I’m about ready for bed.” She looked at Matt with raised eyebrows and held out her hand.
“You need real sleep,” Walt called from the kitchen with his paternal voice. He was scraping up the remains of a salad Julie had made for dinner.
Matt grinned mischievously and took her hand. He looked at Walt and said, “Yes, Dad.” Then he followed Steele into the guest bedroom.
