Lew, the coast guard lieutenant, sat in with them. 'Do you have any firsthand information about the shootings?'
'No,' she said. 'But Haley Walther and Sam witnessed it. I trust them completely, and I'm here to ask you to believe these people through me.'
'And you want me to accept that an ex-police officer in the employ of the Sanker Corporation is going around killing people for a fountain of youth-pharmaceutical?'
Rachael suspected that was a question best unanswered.
'I'm not trying to be harsh,' Glendale said, 'but I've got to marshal the cold facts.' He turned to Lew. 'She really roped you in, huh?' For the first time Glendale smiled at the coast guard officer.
'Right or wrong, I'm a baptized true believer,' Lew said.
'Okay,' Glendale said. 'I'm going to start calling people. Starting with Special Agent Ernie Sanders.'
'He's probably on a plane,' Rachael said.
'I'll leave messages. I'll call his colleagues. I'll go up the line here and get my ass shot off. I'll even call over to the attorney general and see if there is anybody on call tonight.
I'm in. We'll see where this takes us. But no way do I have authority yet to send anybody anywhere or to intervene, uninvited, in the county's case.'
Rachael tried hard not to smile. It was more than she'd hoped for. no one was around. Yes, the Blazer was there at the Nisky home, but was probably left hours before. They had broken into the house and one man was still poking around.
Frick had seen enough after two minutes. Khan had swallowed the bait too easily.
As he ran into the beach house, he realized that he wasn't hearing anything. He pulled his gun, but was reckless in his anger. He forced himself to go more slowly.
In the kitchen the chair was gone and the line was on the floor. His instruments were just where he had laid them, the ball gag on the floor. He charged out onto the back porch, then again thought better of running to the beach and into a bullet. Stepping back inside, he started searching the house while he got on the radio.
'Get in here!' he screamed, not caring who heard him.
A quick run through the downstairs revealed nothing. It seemed unlikely that Sarah's rescuer would have stuck around. By the time he got to the back door, the three men had arrived.
'You'-he pointed at a burly, mustached man-'down the beach, to the left, patrol back and forth. If you find anyone, you call, check in every five minutes. You, the same to the right. Howell, you come with me. They had to have used the road.'
Suddenly Frick stopped. He sent Howell on alone and reentered the house. He had three men here, and more on the way from San Juan to Lopez. His best hope was letting them search in the various directions until they caught a sign of Sam, Haley, and Sarah James.
Then he'd join them. More important than getting them was getting the goods. That meant keeping up with McStott, whom he trusted less and less as the night wore on.
He called Khan for an update, realizing that he had to keep a grip, keep moving and not become distracted over a bad turn of events.
'That was a massive screwup,' he began. Explaining in some detail how stupid they had been; how it had all been a ploy to rescue Sarah James. Khan listened and said nothing.
'What's our little weasel found?' Frick finally asked.
'Well, Rolf's found a partial draft of some kind of allegiance document. Like a pledge.'
'Belonging to?'
'Anderson was drafting it on his computer,' Khan said, 'but it reads like a government document.' Khan voiced the pledge:
'Whereas we have been given by Providence a great discovery that might enhance the life of man and extend his time on earth;
'Whereas we have joined together to use this new knowledge for the good of all, with harm to none;
'Whereas we have enumerated certain goals and the manner of their achievement;
'By this document we commit ourselves…'
'That's it? Commit ourselves to what?' Frick asked. 'That's all we found.'
Haley moved the boat down the beach with the first load of files while Sam returned to the house. Sarah was in considerable pain just from the overtightened cuffs and it was hard on Haley to wait around with Sarah suffering.
Wondering if he was using more guts than brains, Sam emerged from the shrubbery near the door to the garage. He slipped back through the door, grabbed an armload of files, heard whispering, and turned to look back out into the garden. Two men were headed down the path with their guns drawn. Obviously they didn't expect anyone behind them in the house. Putting the files down, he went quietly after them, forcing himself to endure the pain of moving at a trot. They didn't see him coming, intent as they were on the beach.
Sam reminded himself not to strike a lethal blow. Anger over Sarah would make it easy to put a nose cartilage into a brain.
Catching the first man unawares, he delivered a hard blow to the area of the seventh cervical vertebrae. The man spun. Sam slammed a fist into the chin and an elbow hard into the floating ribs. Something snapped and the man dropped. Without stopping his motion Sam kicked at the other man's right arm before he could pull his gun. The kick was a mistake. It hurt and, not surprisingly, it went wide, clipping the man's elbow. The man grunted and swung his firearm up. With one hand Sam clamped the gun while he used the other to deliver a hard, palm-up blow to the chin. The man staggered and Sam landed a harder punch to the point of the chin. It took three strikes and a badly broken jaw to bring the man down, but he would likely stay put for a few minutes.
Sam quickly walked back and grabbed another armload of files that he'd left in the doorway, then reversed toward the beach. His legs were getting worse and he was further degrading them with the kick fighting.
Once at the water he flashed the penlight and waded. In a couple minutes he was in the boat and rowing like his life depended on it.
No doubt it did.
Haley was comforting Sarah, and Sarah seemed in better spirits.
After he had rowed a good half-mile offshore, Sam used his cell phone to call Ernie Sanders. No answer. He left a voice mail message, instead. They tried Rachael. She answered and explained the difficulties she was having with the authorities. They told her about Sarah and she said she would relay it. There was desperation in Rachael's voice and Sam knew she was trying. It was only a matter of time and the government would listen and come.
The two women were now shaking from the cold. Although the temperature was probably about fifty-five degrees, there was a stiff breeze. They had no way to warm themselves out here. Sam was a little better off from rowing hard, and he was naturally hardy when it came to extreme cold. Nevertheless, they were all imagining the luxury of heat.
'Surely the FBI will come now,' Haley said.
Sam kept rowing. 'Consider that I never saw Frick in the house, nor did I see him with Sarah. Physical evidence takes a lab.'
'To investigate, all they need is Sarah's story. True?'
'Jurisdiction. They need jurisdiction, like a kidnap across state lines. Or a civil-rights claim. Civil-rights claims usually move slowly. Otherwise, it's a job for the sheriff or the state police. It's a holiday, in the middle of the night, and there are supposed eyewitnesses to our murderous ways. Obviously Frick didn't steal the Opus Magnum. If the state or feds came, they wouldn't know where to come because Frick wouldn't tell them. We can't tell them where we are or what we're doing because it might get back to Frick. It'll get worked out, but maybe not in the middle of the first night.'
'So what do we do?' Haley asked.
'We need to leave Sarah with someone. Is there anyone we can trust?'
'I know someone. Sarah knows them. Of all the people on the island they're the ones I would trust. The Harlasens. They've been here for years. They own rental properties on various islands. And they're close friends of Ben and me.'
'Let's do it,' said Sam. 'Where do we go?'
'We can row there. Just past the Williamses', and then into McArdle Bay.'
