“Without more facts,” Vail said, “we can fall back on the kindred- souls-find-each-other scenario. Whatever the reason, we’ve got to find him-them-fast. If we can believe his text, our offender’s back on Alcatraz.”
Burden swung around. “Robert, get us a helicopter. Faster than taking that Zodiac and we can land somewhere central, like maybe the cellhouse roof.”
“Bureau’s Regional Aviation Assets might have a chopper,” Vail said, “but I’m not sure if San Fran-”
“We just got one,” Yeung said. “A Bell 407, all tricked out. Staged at Crissy Field.”
“Perfect,” Burden said. “Get it hot. We’re on our way.”
Dixon rose from her chair. “So what’s the plan?”
“Plan?” Burden harrumphed. “We don’t have a plan.”
Vail tucked in her blouse as she moved for the door. “Sure we do. And I can sum it up in three words: Catch this asshole.”
Dixon grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. “Works for me.”
THE BELL MOTORED OVER THE fog-socked Bay. Visibility was almost nil, with white enveloping the helicopter’s windows and increasing the confining feel of the chopper’s modest compartment. Vail closed her eyes and tried to calm the anxiety, focusing instead on what their next steps would be.
Dixon, Burden, Carondolet, and Yeung sat alone with their thoughts until Vail tapped Carondolet on the knee. They were all outfitted with headsets tuned to the same channel.
“Any agents still there from last night?” Vail asked.
Carondolet shook his head. “They left on a cutter this morning. Around four or five, if I remember. Soon as they cleared the island.”
“How many armed LEOs are normally on the island?”
“None. There was a law enforcement ranger there for a few months once, but it wasn’t a permanent position. Just no money for it. Park Service has got the same problem Bureau of Prisons had with Alcatraz-costs a goddamn mint to maintain the buildings and keep that place in one piece. The salt air’s a killer. And cops just haven’t been necessary.”
“Until today,” Vail said.
Carondolet, seated beside the pilot, shrugged: What do you want me to say? “Park Police and FBI’s got people en route. I’ll get an ETA.” He twisted the radio dial and began speaking into his mike. A moment later, he tuned back to their channel and then turned his torso to face his task force members. “Backup should arrive about ten to fifteen minutes after we do. But you’re not gonna like this. It’s Alumni Day.”
Vail leaned closer. “What the hell’s Alumni Day?”
“Once a year deal. Former correctional officers and their families-and ex-inmates-go to the island. Have meals, reminisce, give talks for the tourists.”
“Inmates and officers, socializing?” Vail asked. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
Burden said, “And that’s today?”
Carondolet nodded. “And tomorrow. It’s not publicized. The tourists who come this weekend just luck out.”
“I don’t think ‘luck’ is the right word,” Vail said. “Call it off, turn the ferry around-”
“They’re already there. Probably in the hospital by now. That’s where they eat and hang out. They close off the whole floor from the public.”
The helicopter swung left, circling from over what Vail presumed was choppy Bay water, inward toward the island.
“I’m gonna land us on the fresh-water cistern,” the pilot said. “Better access to all the buildings than the roof. Assuming I can see it.”
Vail nudged Dixon. “This guy’s got a sense of humor.”
The FBI pilot swept around in a tight arc, then hovered and slowly descended, as if the agent was holding out a hand and feeling around for the ground. A moment later, with a slight jolt, he brought them to rest on a large, flat, cement area just north of the cellhouse and water tower-both of which were barely visible in the fog. Dozens of seagulls scattered, vacating the improvised landing pad for a much larger bird.
Carondolet pointed as he spoke. “We’re near the north tip of the island. Industries building and the Golden Gate are to our right.” Their heads swung in that direction. “Trust me, behind that wall of fog, they’re both there. Cellhouse and rec yard’s in front of us, which you can kind of make out. Powerhouse is to our left, down the hill.”
“There’s the smokestack,” Vail said. “Or, part of it.” Looks a bit different without a dead body tied to it.
“How do you want to handle this?” Yeung asked.
“First question to ask is why Scheer brought us here,” Burden said. “We figure that out, we’ll have a course of action.”
“Another body?” Dixon asked.
Vail shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe more than one. I think everything he’s been doing, it’s all been leading up to this. He chose today, and this place, for a reason. He wanted all the ex-officers and inmates on the island. And this Alumni Day gives him what he wants.”
“Why?” Burden asked.
“I can guess, but I’m sure we’ll find out.” Vail’s BlackBerry buzzed. “Apparently sooner rather than later.”
welcome
“He knows we’re here,” Dixon said.
Vail frowned. “We flew in on a goddamn helicopter, Roxx. Fog or not, everyone knows we’re here.”
They jumped out of the Bell and pivoted, taking in what they could see of the structures Carondolet had mentioned.
Dixon put her hands on her hips. “He could be anywhere. We should get everyone off the island until we get things under control.”
“The ferry’s back at Pier 33,” Carondolet said. “It’s loading up. They’d have to get everyone off, then it’d take at least twelve minutes to get here, and then another ten to fifteen to load it.”
Yeung, who was peering into the thick soup, swung around and said, “We should leave everyone where they are, in the hospital. Soon as backup gets here, we put an agent at each entrance. Right now keeping things simple will keep everyone safe.”
“Fine. We need to focus on finding Scheer,” Vail said. “You were him, where would you be?” Just then, her phone vibrated. “Here we go.”
i would give you a clue but
ur time is running out
go to the diesel tank
Vail turned to Carondolet. “What diesel tank?”
