‘‘Why in the name of God would you want to do that?’’
‘‘We need to talk to her,’’ I said.
‘‘I’ll have to consider this’’ was the answer I got.
It wasn’t the answer I was looking for, but it did bring up a very good point. Legal believability. Hester took care of that for us. She called Nola’s local appointed attorney. Told him that we were going to have Nola back in the county on Friday, the 2nd of August, and if he wanted to proceed with any motions, he’d better hurry, as we didn’t want to transport her twice. Then she called the county attorney and told him that Nola was going to have to come back up on Friday, for a hearing on a couple of motions her attorney was filing. He, assuming that I and DCI weren’t communicating, told Hester that Nola was coming back anyway and not to worry about it.
Hester hung up, and smiled all over herself. ‘‘That’s just about how I got Mom and Dad to get me my first car.’’
The icing on the cake came about two minutes later, when the county attorney’s secretary called the Sheriff’s Department and told us to expect Nola Stritch back in the jail on Friday. Not five minutes after that, a ‘‘friendly’’ employee at the Clerk of Court’s office called me. She said that Nola’s attorney’s secretary had called with a request that someone stay in their office a little late, as he was going to be filing a writ of habeas corpus that same day. She also told me that the attorney had asked to speak to the judge.
And so grind the wheels of justice. Brilliant maneuver on Hester’s part, and we now had the front part of a time frame.
Now, for an estimate of the threat. That was mostly Volont’s area, although, having seen the arms cache at Wittman’s, we were all pretty sure the threat level was pretty damned high.
Volont said he thought that Gabriel would be able to field a unit of five to six reliable people within a week, maybe twice that many after that. That meant that we had to narrow the ‘‘Save Nola’’ window and do it publicly. He also thought that, the way that Gabriel preferred to work, he’d have to do a reconnaissance of the jail area. He’d want to get our routine down right, and that would take two days. If he struck the jail, that’s how it would go.
If, on the other hand, he decided to take her away during a court hearing, we would have a more difficult problem. Scouting the courthouse would be a piece of cake, and getting people in there would be even easier. Even with security in place. One of those rockets in the front door, for instance, and security would just no longer be a problem.
He doubted that they’d try for her while she was in transit. Not that it would be at all difficult but there was a better chance for her to get injured or killed if something went wrong while trying to stop a security van. If we were right at all, we had to assume that he loved her.
So… routine protection for transport. Well, routine for someone of Nola’s stature. Great, but subtle, precautions at the courthouse and the jail.
‘‘Where do we want him to strike?’’ asked Volont.
‘‘Pardon?’’
‘‘The difference between good security and excellent security,’’ he said, ‘‘is this: Good security warns you, and may even prevent an occurrence. Excellent security, on the other hand, also channels the intruder to just where you want him.’’
‘‘The jail,’’ I said, without having to consider it. ‘‘No civilians to worry about.’’
‘‘Good choice,’’ he said. ‘‘ Festung Houseman.’’
The way to arrange that, it turned out, was to have obvious, busy, and daunting security at the courthouse. Almost completely hidden security at the jail. An ambush, as it were. I was a little uncomfortable about that, but didn’t say anything. We were fast leaving my area of expertise now, and I wasn’t at all sure about what was the correct move. That happens to you when you suddenly deal with the real physical power of the federal system. I mean, you can sort of visualize what they can do. But when it comes time to not only see it but use it… well, overwhelming is a good word.
Volont put in a cautionary word. ‘‘Remember,’’ he said, ‘‘this man is not like your usual criminal. He’s not psychotic. He’s certainly not some sort of mad serial killer.’’ He looked out the window at the jail. ‘‘He’s a soldier. Maladjusted, perhaps, but a soldier. He does not kill for the pleasure of it, but only when necessary to further the mission.’’ He looked back at me. ‘‘So there is no familiar criminal motive that will set him off. Mission, and perhaps some ideology. But mission, always mission. Don’t forget that.’’
‘‘Okay,’’ I said. ‘‘So we have to predict his mission. But the soldier business. He’s not obeying orders, is he? I mean, not from some sort of political leader or anything?’’
Volont thought a second. ‘‘No.’’
‘‘So he sort of determines his own mission, his own assessment of what’s necessary?’’
‘‘True,’’ said Volont. ‘‘But very much in keeping with the doctrine he picked up in military service.’’
I thought that one over. ‘‘This is going to be even more interesting.’’
‘‘Why’s that?’’ asked Volont idly.
‘‘Well,’’ I said, ‘‘his troops will be following orders. Are they the same quality as Gabriel?’’
‘‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’’ he said. ‘‘I can tell you this. .. the one time I know of where Gabriel was heavily involved, his soldiers weren’t quite as good as he could have wished.’’
At any rate, I was absolutely certain that the assets we had available in the Nation County Sheriff’s Department wouldn’t be able to come close to containing Gabriel and his little army. We needed resources, and we all knew where they’re kept.
The judge issued an order, saying that he had scheduled the habeas corpus hearing for Nola Stritch at 11:30 A.M. on Friday, August 2nd. Because of that, and because her attorney would ‘‘require time to discuss the subject of the hearing with his client prior to the hearing being held,’’ Nola was to be at the Nation County jail by 0800 on Friday. That meant that she would have to leave Cedar Rapids at about 0630. That also meant that the security people would have to be transporting her part of the way in the dark. The judge had also directed the Nation County Sheriff’s Department to do the transporting. We had to call his chambers and remind him that she was a federal prisoner and the U.S. Marshal’s office would be handling that part of it. He agreed, of course, but sounded a little put off. We weren’t supposed to know he ever made a mistake, I guess. Well, he was one of the older judges… I get the same way myself.
All in all, I was feeling pretty good about things. Not so good as to let Sue come home, though. Not until this was done. Just to be sure. She wasn’t too happy about it, but was convinced it had to be done. Staying with her mother meant that she’d likely be playing bridge with the ladies. Sue hates bridge.
‘‘You be careful,’’ she said. ‘‘Very, very careful.’’
She had no idea what was happening, none at all. But if you’re married to a Norwegian like me, you just tell him that every once in a while, to make sure he remembers. Can’t hurt.
I went home about 1930, just in time to have missed the first thirty minutes of a good movie on HBO. TV dinner. Pills. To bed at 2300. Dull, dull, dull. I couldn’t even go up to my mother-in-law’s for supper, because if I was being watched, I didn’t want to lead anybody there.
You have to do it that way.
For Wednesday and Thursday, I really didn’t have much to do. So I took Wednesday off, and spent most of it in the basement, working on my model of HMS Victory. Put horses and vangs on the driver boom and gaff. ‘‘Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum.’’ It rained most of the day, hard enough to make me wonder if I should be building a slightly larger boat. Ship.
As I sat there, threading lines through little pulleys, I wondered about the nature of the mission rehearsal that had set this all in motion. We knew that there had been a team in the woods and that they were training for a mission. But, as far as I knew, nobody had ever determined what that mission was. Or why they’d be training for it here, of all places.
Another thing was bothering me. What Volont had said about Gabriel being a soldier and not a criminal. I believed that. Being neither a soldier nor a criminal, I couldn’t speak from either position. But I had talked to a whole hell of a lot more criminals than I had professional soldiers. I did know that there were differences in approach there. I’d read some military history. But how these differences would be applied had me stumped. I was uncomfortable on unfamiliar territory, and that was exactly where I was headed.
Thursday was August 1st. Hotter than hell, and humid again, because of the rain. I spent most of the day in the office, working on our case files. And in air-conditioned comfort. Neither George, Hester, nor Volont were anywhere around, being at their respective offices making arrangements for the next few days. It was nice to have
