Lethal Politics Read online

  Earl wished he could talk to CC and explain, but there wasn't time, and a letter would be taken by the Feds. He thought about it. Would it exonerate his son, or expose him, depending on what course of action he selected? He couldn't risk complicating things any further, and wasn't certain enough of what was the right approach.

  He'd made a number of mistakes he realized now. Especially afterwards, when he'd been led into a false security after learning that the FBI case had been closed and all investigations halted. They'd all believed they had been successful. Even the things that he'd done that now linked his team together probably wouldn't have hurt them, or revealed their involvement, except for the one unfortunate mistake. The fact that the woman's death had been planned might have been revealed, but the perpetrators would have remained a mystery. It was the stupid actions of that damned Abe that had ruined it all. It was his using the credit cards that were supposed to be restricted to the mission that had ultimately allowed Abe to be located, and through him all the links to the rest of them. If only Earl had collected the cards that last day when they were together at the mountain cabin. He'd meant to, but then simply directed everyone to destroy them instead. For the want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.

  He knew was going to have to hurry. If Mark was right then a team of FBI agents were winging their way from DC to El Paso with the intention of arresting him. They'd be here by late afternoon or early evening. They might not have proof as yet of his role in events, but they had enough circumstantial knowledge to drag him in for questioning, and he knew it was then only a matter of time before they figured everything out. He wasn't going to be the one who led them to the President, so he'd have to be gone when they got here. He understood once he rode away from his ranch he'd never be back. He could attempt to flee. He had the plane, and Mexico was a short hop away. But this wasn't the old days, and Mexico didn't put one out of reach any more. The U.S. had all manner of agreements with the Mexican government, and they would aid in running him down. Running to the south, or most anywhere else, was simply a delaying action. No, he was finished, it was simply a matter of where he chose to make his last stand.

  Most everything he could do here was done. He had sent the warning to Jason, so he could make his own plans. Earl had no doubts they'd be able to link both him and Bo to the killings sooner or later. Earl wondered about Bo, but like everything else, his fate was beyond his control. Ginny and Gus both knew something was very wrong, but had no idea just how bad it really was. The FBI agents had been here the other day, and now the boss was prepared to ride off into the mountains on a supposed camping trip. This late in October? They'd shown their worry, but Ginny was packing up the kind of grub that would keep as requested, and Gus was getting his ride ready. Earl knew they'd be okay. When he'd started all of this he'd written a document making certain they'd be financially secure if things went south.

  He would need guns. He walked across the hall to the utility room and worked the combination of his gun safe. He wasn't that much of a handgunner, but there were several to choose from. The big 1911 .45 Colt he'd acquired after the war he'd never really mastered, and the cowboy style guns were mostly commeratives, engraved and inlaid with gold. The compact Smith and Wesson was his service weapon, and he pulled it out for one last adventure.

  One of the AR style rifles was probably the most appropriate for what lay ahead, but he wasn't thinking in terms of how best to win the coming fight. It was a given that he was going to be the loser, and he couldn't see making the battle bloodier than necessary. Still, he wouldn't be surrendering. Deciding, he reached past the modern semi-automatics and bolt-action hunting rifles and pulled out the refurbished Model 1886 Winchester. Turnbull had done a remarkable job, making the rifle gleam as if it had just left the factory. Chambered for the mortar-like .45-70, it was the kind of weapon he could rationalize for this situation. He grabbed a box of twenty rounds, deciding that should be more than he'd need, and locked the safe.

  Grabbing his saddlebags stuffed messily with a few items of clothing and other minor necessities, he turned and headed into the main part of the house.

  "You can't do this!" Ginny warned, not sure what this was, but instinctively knowing that Earl was embarking on a no-win path. "Think of CC," she added.

  Earl had been doing just that. CC kept popping into his thoughts as he tried to think out what needed to be done. He'd done his son a disservice, but there was nothing he could do now except clear the way for him."

  He smiled crookedly at his housekeeper, his eyes as misty as hers.

  "Thanks, Ginny. For everything. You take care of yourself, you hear?"

  Briefly he wrapped her in an embrace, one he thought she wouldn't allow him to break free of as she tried to hold him here. A few moments later he was headed out the side door and walking across the yard toward the two horses Gus had waiting.

  He'd be taking Blue, his favorite riding horse. A powerful stallion, he'd traveled through the wild country with this horse under him many times in the past. It was a fitting choice. Tied to the hitching post next to Blue was a far less grand animal, a pack horse fittingly named Trouble, as he wasn't the best tempered animal on the ranch. For some reason Earl had always liked the independent animal, and had specifically asked Gus to get him ready as well.

  "Boss . . ." Gus said, but stopped as Earl held up a hand.

  "They'll be coming later today," he said. "Don't create a problem for yourself. Cooperate with them, understand? You have to keep this place running for CC. Tell them what you know."

  Earl held out a hand, which Gus took, his face clearly bothered by the strange events. Gus sensed that this was the last time he'd be seeing Earl.

  Throwing the saddle bags over his mount and sliding the heavy Winchester into the scabbard, Earl climbed up onto the animal with practiced ease, and taking the offered lead rope for the pack horse from Gus, he nodded, then turned and headed north, toward the Gila National Forest where he'd be waiting for those coming after him.

  They were back on board the same C-37A aircraft. Karl could identify a couple of minor scratches that were in the same places that confirmed his suspicions. The crew, however, was different, suggesting this plane was kept reasonably busy and at least two crews were assigned duty on it. He and Kevin had taken off just over an hour ago and expected to land in El Paso approximately 5 PM, giving them time to make the drive out to Earl Campbell's ranch and hopefully make an uneventful arrest before nightfall.

  He and Kevin, again supported by agents from the local office, were tasked with detaining the President's long time friend and suspected organizer of the recently unearthed team who had plotted and executed a plan to kill the President's only significant competition in the upcoming election. An election that was now less than a week away.

  Karl agreed with the decision. Once they had him, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the team, the two missing and as yet unidentified individuals, would also be in custody. Then would come the painful task of revealing to the public what had really happened.

  While there was no solid proof of their suspicions as yet, the circumstantial evidence continued to mount. The closeness of the man's relationship to the President tied him to the desire to see him re-elected, and hence provided a motive for him to have gone after Nancy Craig. The discovery that four men had been stalking the candidate, and that one of the phones belonging to that team had been located somewhere in the vicinity of his ranch, close enough to be linked to the operational tower providing service to his property, were one clue.

  This suspicion was further strengthened when the use of a pair of highly restricted, covert phones was discovered. This pair of phones was much harder to track, but showed a frequent use that connected that same tower to an individual inside the DC area. The most recent call, only a few hours ago hadn't been able to pin down the Texas location any more precisely before the call was terminated, but it was more than a little suspicious that the phone was transmitting throug
h the exact same tower as the throwaway phone they'd been tracking earlier. The precise location of the DC phone had been refined, and while it wasn't exactly located, the circle of maximum likelihood placed the phone in or on the White House grounds. The fact that Earl's son, a Secret Service agent watching over the President was on duty and in the White House at the time suggested the two were probably working together, and that Agent Campbell was keeping his father abreast of what the government had thus far discovered. The assumption the two were working together would support the many calls ending or originating at the White House even when the remote device was changing location.

  The possibility that father and son were working together would also explain the timing of certain other events, such as why the El Paso burner phone dropped off the net shortly have the various agencies, the Secret service included, learned of the phones and the FBI's actions to locate the users. Agent Campbell's involvement might also explain the source of the special phones. As an agent in his position, the possibility he found access to the devices was reasonable, and he could have provided one to his father to support their planning and allow for safe transfer of key information. A check of Agent Campbell's past movements based on records of his personal phone connectivity history revealed an undisclosed weekend trip to Texas when he could have transferred the illicit device to his father.

  For the moment, the Director had requested that Agent Campbell be left in place with the hope the arrest of his father would trigger incriminating behavior and possibly a message to one or both of the missing individuals, allowing the Bureau to close in on the remaining suspects. He would be carefully watched, and hopefully the secure phone would also be recovered, confirmed the working hypothesis the Director had put forth.

  The one weak link that still gnawed at Karl's subconscious was the motivation for the killing of Cindy Moore. If the suspects had been motivated by the desire to eliminate the President's competition, why would the girlfriend fallen victim. The only thing that Karl could come up with was a possibility that she'd discovered something incriminating, but that seemed unlikely and a rather drastic move given their friend's supposed infatuation with the woman. Well, time would most likely reveal what had happened.

  Landing in five minutes," Kevin said after shaking Karl from the light nap that he had slipped into without realizing it. Kevin was eager for this to go well as it represented quite an achievement for him would almost certainly get him a promotion, and perhaps the relocation back to FBI headquarters he'd been hoping for.

  The same two agents were on hand to meet them. This time, however, they brought two vehicles, both armored SUVs, apparently to ensure room for the suspect and to carry the additional equipment they felt prudent for the arrest. Karl didn't like it, but they were directed to suit up in body armor and the special FBI jackets that defined who they were. They were also each issued a MP5 with integral suppressor. Karl had used the stubby 9mm machine gun before, and frankly wasn't a fan, but the FBI loved them. Karl thought if anything, all of this would potentially aggravate the situation when they tried to arrest Mr. Campbell.

  "I don't think we'll need all this," Karl stated for the record.

  "You saw all the people on that ranch the other day," Jack said. "If they decide to stand behind this guy and put of a fight we might need a little protection."

  Kevin glanced toward Karl and shrugged. He didn't think these were the type of people to engage the Bureau in a gunfight, not even to protect their boss, but it was clear they were going to have an argument if they bucked the others.

  "Looks the same," Tom noted as they drove through the gates and past the white fences as they had the day before. Kevin and Jack were in the other vehicle connected by radio. This time no one rode up to intercept them, but they could see a number of wranglers working with the horses in fields off to the side.

  "They've seen us coming, Kevin said, pointing to the welcoming committee standing by the barn.

  "He's back," Karl added, pointing toward the tail of the Cessna 182 at one end of the odd parking garage.

  The two dark SUVs came to a stop a dozen feet from the foreman they had talked with the day before. He was surrounded by several dusty wranglers who were not threatening, but obviously concerned about the return of the agents.

  "He's not here," Gus said as they stepped out of the vehicles, his face telegraphing his displeasure with their presence.

  Karl pointed to the plane parked across the way.

  Gus nodded.

  "Yeah, he flew back early this morning. But left again soon afterwards. He had me saddle up his horse and he took off into the flats. Been gone eight hours or so."

  "Where's he going?" Kevin asked.

  "Don't know for certain."

  "Don't know, or won't say?" Jack asked.

  Gus spit and turned toward the agent.

  "He told me to be cooperative before he left. I guess he knew you'd be coming. Wish I knew what this is about. I'm certain he headed up toward Gila National Forest. There are a few places up there he always favored for camping. I guess I can show you on the topo map in the barn. You going after him?"

  Karl nodded. "That's why we are here. Hoped it wouldn't be so much trouble. I assume he's armed?"

  "He is," Gus agreed reluctantly. "Are you going to want horses? I don't have enough riding stock for all of you. Most of our horses are specially trained for shows. I can't let you take them up into the hills."

  Karl shook his head. "I doubt I'd make it across the field there before falling off. Besides, I'm too old for that kind of nonsense. We'll go by chopper."

  Jack glanced his way.

  "Should I ask them to send one?"

  Karl glanced at the sky showing the first signs of red as the sun settled in the west.

  "Tomorrow morning's soon enough," he said.

  Chapter 36

  Earl crawled out of his sleeping bag, his breath forming a cloud of whitish vapor as he breathed. It was cold, colder even than he had expected, but even so he had slept well. His sleeping bag was rated to far lower temperatures than he'd encounter out here this time of year, and he'd been toasty warm all night. He actually felt good. Invigorated even. This would be fun if it weren't for the situation that had driven him out here.

  Today was the day. He knew it. Almost certainly his last day. He hadn't expected anyone to come for him the night before, and he'd been right. It was still too early this morning, and he'd be able to cook himself a warming breakfast. Those who came for him, he wondered how many it would be, wouldn't get here for a couple of hours if they came by air as he expected, and not until the late afternoon if they tried to follow on horseback. The latter would have been best if he'd been trying to hide, but that wasn't his plan. That would only drag things out, bring a larger number of searchers, and most likely result in more deaths.

  The horses were tethered a short distance away in the small grassy flat where they had grass and a trickle of clean water from the tiny stream that flowed through where he'd placed them. They'd be fine until someone came for them, and they would also be a clear beacon for anyone searching from the air. They'd see the two horses, and that would guide them to his small but tidy campground. Then they would have to figure out just how to approach him.

  He pulled on his boots and grabbed his rifle before starting down the hill to a spot where he could find a heavier flow of water for his pot. Several of the small trickles and streams converged a short distance below his campground. Scanning downhill he could see the meadow was clear and waiting. That's where they would land, he thought, still certain they'd do this the easy way and use helicopters for the search. Uphill, behind him it was rocky for about fifty meters until one reached the crest, then the terrain flowed slowly downward for several miles, but was heavily forested making it an impossible landing spot. To either side the hill turned ragged, with drop-offs high enough to discourage climbing. That meant they would have to come from below.

  He pushed the thought aside. T
rouble would find him soon enough, but for a very short time this area was all his. No one was within miles, and he felt like an old mountain man far from civilization.

  Karl and the others were well fed and rested. The beds in the Howard Johnson's had been soft and warm, and despite the cold weather outside, the room had been comfortably warm. They'd had a fine dinner, and an even better breakfast, and now they were about to start off. He tightened the straps of the Kevlar vest knowing today things had changed. Earl Campbell had thrown down a challenge, and he made it clear he'd have to be taken, and chosen the fighting ground where he planned to make his stand.

  "How far do you think he got?" Kevin asked as he hefted his H&K MP5.

  "Depends on how hard he pushed and how difficult to find he wants to be," Jack said.

  They had discussed the matter at length the night before at dinner, and Jack was of a like mind with Karl. He didn't believe Earl would be hiding. He believed they'd spot him easily enough, but taking him might be another matter. The man knew this area, and he clearly had some place in might when he set off.