'The Bradshaw Trail is out past Indio by the Salton Sea in Riverside County,' he explained as he started flipping pages. 'It runs between the Chukwalla Mountains and the Chocolate Mountains. There's some spectacular views from the Chukwalla Bench of the Palos Verdes Valley.'
Then he found the page he wanted. 'There's a Navy SEAL camp known as Camp Billy Machen down here at the base camp. They used to use it for desert training. It's closed now. The other SEAL camp, the one he wanted to visit, is at altitude.' He pointed at a spot on the map. ' 'Bout here, above Silver Pass.'
'Could I make a copy of this?' I asked him.
'You can take it, if you bring it back.'
He gave me the book and I pulled out the sheet of paper that I'd found by Smiley's trash. 'You recognize anything here?' I asked him. He scanned it for a moment.
'YUMA TACTS,' he read aloud. 'Looks like some kind of military operation.'
'Yeah, but for what?' I wondered out loud.
He shrugged and handed it back. 'Beats me.'
I thanked Marion and walked back out to the car, wondering how to go about this.
If Smiley wanted to go to the Chocolate Mountains, then that's where I wanted to go.
My problem was, I didn't know the first thing about mountain climbing.
Chapter 42
By six fifteen the Rams were halfway through practice. I pulled the borrowed D-car into the upper parking lot at Agoura High School and walked through the campus. It was Friday afternoon, and the school sign announced that the Agoura football team was playing at San Marino High that night at eight, so the high school team wasn't out on the field. I stood for a minute on the top steps, looking down to where Chooch and thirty or so kids in their practice uniforms were running plays on the main field. There was still almost an hour of fall sunlight left.
Chooch was with the offense. Across the field, working on breakdown drills with the defense, was Sonny Lopez, the man I'd come to see. He was coaching the boys to come to a partial balanced stop, setting their feet, running in place before making an open-field tackle.
Chooch saw me and waved. 'Hey,' he yelled. 'This is a closed practice.'
I flipped him the bird and he laughed, then turned and limped on his walking cast back toward the offense. Sonny looked up when Chooch yelled. He was dressed in sweats and football shoes, with a towel around his neck. When he saw me, he scowled and immediately started walking in my direction. We met about midfield.
'I came to make a deal,' I said.
'You got nothing I want.'
I told him about Smiley's twin brother Paul, how Jo Brickhouse and I had found the tunnel at Hidden Ranch, and my theory about how easy it would have been for Vincent to steal those casings from the shooting ranges, commit the Nightingale and Greenridge murders, and frame both SWAT teams. When I was finished, he had lost the attitude.
'You and Jo Brickhouse turned all that?' he said, a little respect creeping into his voice and eyes.
I nodded, then added, 'Jo was shot by that bastard this afternoon. She's in critical condition at L. A. County. She went to a house Smiley was using in Inglewood and he dumped her. It's all over the department and on the news. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it.'
'I've been at practice here since two.'
'I think I know where Smiley might be,' I continued, 'but I have a few conditions.'
Sonny stood with his hands on his hips, his face a mask. I couldn't read him at all.
'First, I can't go after him alone. I need your word that if I tell you where I think he is, you'll do your best to deliver what I want.'
'I'm not gonna promise anything, Scully. At least not until I know what you have in mind.'
'All I want is your best effort. If you can't deliver, then you can't deliver.'
'Let's hear.' He took off the towel that was around his neck and dropped it on the grass. His team had stopped practicing, so he turned and yelled, 'Hey! Keep that drill going. This ain't a break! We have the Chargers on Saturday!'
The boys again lined up and continued the tackling drill. Sonny looked back at me.
'I think Smiley went up into the Chocolate Mountains. It's a range out by the Salton Sea, south of Indio.'
'So call the FBI. It's their case now. Turn it over to them.'
'I want to arrest him myself. Two weeks ago he shot Emo, a guy I really cared about. This afternoon he dropped my partner. I really want this guy, Sonny.'
'It's not like Sergeant Brickhouse was your real partner.' He was hedging.
'Hey, she's my partner! And she's also my friend!' I almost shouted this at him. Calm down, I lectured myself for about the tenth time in two days. Then I put my hand on his shoulder. 'Listen Sonny, if not for me or for Jo, then do it for Emo. You cared about him. Smiley deserves some first-person payback.'
'You said you had a few conditions. I got the first one. What're the others?'
'I don't know how to mountain climb, and from what I've found out, I think he's going into some pretty rough terrain. I need help to get up there.'
'How can I help you with that?' Sonny said. 'I don't know how to mountain climb.'
'SEB does. They teach their SWAT teams mountain rescue. I want you to get in touch with Scott Cook, tell him to bring the Gray team, or as many of those guys as he can, and have them meet me here and bring their climbing equipment. I'll call Cagel at SRT and see if I can convince him to loan me that unit too.'
'SEB and SRT are barely speaking. Put 'em in the same place, and you could end up with people getting killed.'
'Think about it. These are the two units that were hurt the most by all this. They weren't out killing each other, Smiley just made it look that way. What better way to bring these guys back together?'
'A joint op.'
'Exactly. We work it together. Go up there and drag that asshole off the mountain.'
'You oughta sell this to the Discovery Channel,' he said dryly. But I could tell from his expression and the glint in his eyes, that I had him.
'Tell Sergeant Cook that my condition for giving him Smiley's exact location is that I go up there with them.'
'He's not gonna go for that.'
'He is if he wants to catch the guy who killed Billy Greenridge.'
Chapter 43
Whatta they doing here?' Gordon Grundy said, standing in the back of the SRT SWAT truck, which was parked in the Faculty Only area of the Agoura High School lot. He was looking across the tarmac as the SEB SWAT van's headlights swept across us pulling in. It was just after sunset.
'So far, the only thing all of us are guilty of is having a stupid fight in a bar,' I said. 'Nobody shot anybody. SEB didn't light up Greenridge and you didn't shoot Nightingale. Maybe it's time to bottle up some of this testosterone and aim it at the real shooter.'
Grundy was a tall, hard-edged man, dressed in black Kevlar. A collection of right angles and hard surfaces, his jaw jutted and his knuckles looked like unmined calcium deposits. He was flacked and jacked. His first scout, Nacho Rosano, was behind him, also glaring across the tarmac at the sheriff's van.
