but couldn't get his left arm above the shoulder, so he surrendered with one hand raised.
A short burst of automatic-weapon fire cut into the treetops at the edge of the mesa. Pine cones and needles rained down on Alan Begay, who stepped into view with both arms in the air as high as he could get them.
'I guess Alan wanted to surrender too,' Jim said.
'No sense letting us have all the fun.'
'I like a man who can follow orders,' Kerney noted.
A man got out of the third chopper and scanned Kerney, Jim, and Alan with binoculars before talking into a hand-held radio.
The two guys who came out of the woods behind Kerney and Stiles wore Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms shield patches on their SWAT uniforms.
They got Kerney and Stiles dismounted, disarmed, and handcuffed before walking them across the meadow to the man with the binoculars. Another team followed behind with Alan.
The slightly stoop-shouldered man had an FBI shield patch on his SWAT jacket and an angry expression on his face which Kerney had seen before.
'You're a meddlesome son of a bitch,' Charlie Perry said to Kerney.
'Let me guess, you're really not Ranger Rick,' Jim remarked.
Perry ignored Stiles.
'What the hell are you doing here, Kerney?'
'Looking for Leon Spence,' Kerney answered.
Spence was stretched out facedown, hands cuffed at the small of his back, with an M-16 muzzle pointed at the nape of his neck.
'I see you found him for me,' Kerney added.
'What's Spence to you?' Charlie demanded.
'A murderer,' Kerney replied.
'Don't play games with me, Kerney. I haven't got the time.'
'I'm serious. Spence whacked Steve Lujan.'
Perry laughed.
'If you can prove that, I'll personally kiss your ass.'
'That won't be necessary. An explanation of what's going on here will do nicely,' Kerney countered.
'Do we have a deal?'
Perry nodded curtly.
Kerney turned his back to Perry and waited for him to remove the handcuffs. Hands free, Kerney took the small tape recorder from his shirt pocket and played it for Perry. Voices carry in the thin night air, and even the noise of the car engine didn't mask the conversation between Spence and Lujan, and the sounds of the two gunshots. Kerney popped out the tape and tossed it to Charlie.
Spence stared at Kerney with one eye, his cheek ground in the gravel of the landing strip. He tried to lift up his head and spit at Kerney. The man with the M-16 poked Spence with the rifle to keep him still.
'I'm sure your technical people can do a voiceprint analysis and match it to Spence,' Kerney said.
'Plus, I'll testify as your star witness. I saw the whole thing go down.'
'That sure sounds like Leon,' Charlie said as he pocketed the tape.
'You stay here,' he ordered Alan Begay.
'Kerney and Stiles, come with me.' He uncuffed Stiles, turned away, and walked toward the lodge.
As they moved toward the lodge, two large trucks | lumbered into view and turned in the direction of a wooden barn a hundred yards from the house. Some of Perry's team were hauling crates outside and stacking them in front of the open barn door.
The living room of the ranch house, a wide, deep room with exposed rock walls and an oak floor, was richly furnished. Two tan matching Italian leather couches sat on either side of a fireplace which could easily take an eight-foot log. Scattered over the floor were expensive Navajo rugs. The mantel above the fireplace, a good six feet off the ground, displayed a collection of Zuni pots. An antique side table held a Remington bronze that looked authentic.
Kerney and Jim Stiles sat together on the couch that faced the front windows of the room. High up on the wall were mounted heads of elk, deer, and antelope overlooking the room. Charlie Perry sat on the other couch. Behind him was a floor lamp made of deer horns. A bear pelt, complete with head and paws, hung on the wall next to the fireplace.
'Let's have it,' Kerney said to Perry.
Charlie pushed his sandy hair up from his forehead and stretched out his legs.
'About three years ago the bureau infiltrated the Michigan Militia.
Sanderson, the guy who owns the Double Zero, a rich right-wing zealot from Detroit who made his money in insurance, stepped in and helped bankroll the organization. There was nothing illegal about it, but it made Sanderson worth watching.
'He put a hundred thousand dollars on the table and we kept waiting to see how the money would be used. Finally, the money was filtered to a national committee charged with reorganizing state and local militia groups into regional military districts. We have a mole serving on the committee. There are six regional districts already operating. The committee decided to use Sanderson's funds to finance a special project.
'Leon Spence ran a smuggling organization that specialized in bringing exotic birds and animals into the States. The committee approached Spence with a scheme to harvest wild game to supply the Asian market with ingredients for folk remedies. He had an organization in place that could move the product to the right buyers and get top dollar for the goods.
'It was a damn good idea. Hardly anybody knows you can kill a cougar, boil its testicles, and sell the concoction as an aphrodisiac in a third-world country at a big profit. It's been a quiet crime spree that hasn't drawn any media attention.
'Spence targeted two areas for harvesting-Alaska and southern New Mexico. Both fit the criteria: small populations, the right kind of wildlife, and not enough cops to cover the wide open spaces.
He's been running the operation for the past two years.'
'What were the proceeds to be used for?' Kerney asked.
'What every army needs,' Perry replied.
'Weapons and guns. Nice little toys for the self-proclaimed patriots.'
'The crates,' Stiles exclaimed.
'Exactly,' Charlie confirmed.
'All of them filled with illegal armaments.'
'Tell me about Spence,' Kerney asked.
Charlie laughed.
'He's a blue-eyed, blond-haired, Spanish-speaking Mexican, with a green card. His father is the son of a German who immigrated to Mexico after World War II. His mother is the daughter of the former governor of the state of Nuevo Leon. He went to a military prep school in Georgia and took a degree at Tulane in New Orleans.
He does a great southern accent.'
'Steve Lujan worked for Spence,' Kerney prompted.
'Exactly.'
'I'd sure like to know how he got paid,' Jim broke in.
'I couldn't find a money trail.'
Charlie chuckled and stood up.
'The deposits were made to a bank in the Bahamas. We've got the account impounded along with about a dozen more.' He looked at his watch.
'We have agents picking up the national committee members and Sanderson right about now. Plus we're shutting down two illegal arms dealers and breaking the back of a whole network of illicit exotic animal traders.
This is one for the good guys.'
'It sounds like a major bust,' Kerney said, standing up so he could look Perry in the eye.
'Big-time.'
