Below Zero

lines toward end users in eight states. Most of those users—like Joe—rarely thought about how the electricity got to his home or how it came about. All they—and he—knew was that when they flipped a switch, the light came on. The power came from somewhere, and he was looking at it.

Except when it didn’t.

Joe frowned to himself, said to Coon, “How in the hell could two guys from Chicago sabotage a power plant?”

Coon shrugged, said, “We don’t know. But we’re going to stop them before they do.”

And Joe realized what really made Portenson so happy. Thanks to Joe’s initial theory, the FBI had focused on Robert and the environmental angle. Things had fallen into place. The analysts were not only connecting the crimes, they were anticipating what the Stensons would do next. Coal-fired power plants with massive carbon dioxide emissions were a natural target. It all played out and fit the pattern. And Portenson was in the catbird seat. He’d be able to avert the plot before anything bad happened. He’d get the credit. Even if the Stensons were in Rangeland to buy gas.

The fly in the ointment, Joe thought, was if Stenko or Robert started talking after they were arrested and threw too much doubt on the FBI’s theories. If they denied ever targeting the power plant. Then Joe realized what else worked in Portenson’s favor. He was pretty sure that the Stensons wouldn’t be alive to talk. Not with Robert’s new propensity to try and shoot his way out of every situation and Stenko’s fatal cancer.

Which meant that Joe would need to get to Stenko before Portenson did.

AS THE PILOT negotiated with the Rangeland sheriff on where to land and Coon arranged for vehicles with the police department, Portenson turned in his seat and said to Joe, “You’ve got a call on channel C.”

His stomach knotted as he turned the dial two clicks. Joe thought: Marybeth. Janie Doe has taken a turn for the worse.

Governor Rulon said, “Finding you was not so easy. How is it going?”

“Not great.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I got a briefing from DCI and between these bad guys you’re chasing and the FBI, there are bodies all over my state from Rawlins to Devils Tower.” He didn’t sound like he was in a good mood.

“It’s been rough,” Joe said. “But we may finally be closing in on them.”

Rulon acted like he didn’t hear Joe. He continued, “Tell Agent Portenson that Wyoming has the smallest population of all the states. He and his minions are doing serious damage on our census count. Those are citizens and voters. I mean they were citizens and voters. At this rate we’ll lose a seat in Congress and our federal funding if he keeps up with all the bodies.”

By the set of Portenson’s jaw, Joe could tell he was once again listening in.

“He just heard you,” Joe said.

“Good! I figured he might be eavesdropping on a private conversation without a warrant.”

This time, Portenson ripped his own headphones off.

“He’s gone,” Joe said.

“So tell me, did you find the girl you were looking for?”

Joe briefed him on the situation.

Rulon said, “Unbelievable. So you think these bad guys might know where the girl you’re looking for is located?”

“Maybe,” Joe said.

“So where are you now?”

“We just got cleared to land in Rangeland. The FBI thinks the Stensons may be going after the power plant.”

“Jesus Christ! They had better not be!”

“I don’t see it,” Joe said, making sure Coon wasn’t listening in, either. He wasn’t. “I just can’t imagine they can waltz their way in there and disrupt the electricity. These Stensons are not geniuses, and one of them may be terminally sick. But that doesn’t mean somebody might not get hurt.”

“But the feds are coordinating with local law enforcement?”

“They appear to be.”

“Will miracles never cease.”

Joe shot glances at Coon, who was obviously engaged in another conversation, and Portenson, who took a cue from Coon and was adjusting his headset back on. Joe saw Portenson switch channels to Coon’s frequency. They were getting information from someone that was making them both sit up straight.

“Something’s going on,” Joe said. “Coon and Portenson are getting new information.”

“What?”

“I think I know, but I can’t say.”

Rulon said, “My lights are still on. So the Stensons haven’t done anything to the power plant.”

The ground rose up and Joe felt one of the skids touch the field. They were landing on the north side of town in an empty cornfield. He could see several police department vehicles parked on a service road beyond a barbed-wire fence.

“Sir,” Joe said, “we’ve landed. I’ll call you back as soon as I have something to report.”