The door burst open, and two men dressed in full camouflage gear entered the shelter, one wearing goggles Dan recognized instantly as a night-vision device. That accounted for how they had been able to cover the ground so quickly. Dan had started a Coleman lantern after entering the cabin-part of the emergency Boy Scout equipment left behind in the hut. That lantern provided the only light, far too much, however, for the man with goggles. He removed them just as a third man came in the doorway. Mild surprise showed on his face as he recognized Dan, a fact that eluded Dan until the man stepped farther into the light. It was unmistakably Jackson Shaw. As soon as he stepped into the dimly lit room, the even more familiar face of Roger Dahlgren appeared in the doorway.
“Well, Mr. Rawlings,” Shaw said, “what a pleasant surprise. Camping on such a night, or are you just earning a few more Boy Scout merit badges?” Shaw stepped farther into the small cabin and turned to face one of the men who had not taken his eyes or his weapon off Dan since he entered. “Sergeant Krueger, secure the perimeter.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, leaving the cabin.
Shaw pulled a stool out from under a rickety table and sat down facing Dan, who was standing with his back up against the far wall of the hut. Dahlgren entered and sat on the edge of an old, wooden bunk bed.
“Lose your companion, Mr. Rawlings?”
Dan maintained a blank stare, holding Shaw’s eyes. “Companion?”
“Rawlings,” Shaw said, spitting on the floor of the cabin, “save the tap dance for someone else. Where’s the girl?” he demanded.
“You must mean Agent Bentley,” Dan replied. Glancing casually at his watch, Dan looked again at Shaw. “By now, she’s probably back at her office in San Francisco.”
Shaw smiled. “Right! Beam me up, Scotty. Is that it, Rawlings? You expect me to believe that?”
Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Believe what you will, Shaw. If she’s not there yet, she’s at least well on the way. Look, we can save each other a lot of time. We saw your men at Stevenson’s cabin and when we made a run for it, I left her out on the highway, intending to hide until your men passed. I then took the fire trail back over the mountain to lead them off. By now, she will have flagged down a passing car and made it into the city, or at least to a police station.”
Shaw remained expressionless, evaluating this bit of information.
“We might as well all hike back down to our vehicles and go home,” Dan said, pushing his luck. “There’s nothing I have that you want, Shaw.”
Shaw slowly shook his head side to side, a sneer forming on his face. “Rawlings, you just don’t get it, do you? We’re at war. And you’re not even one of the enemy-entitled to POW treatment under the Geneva Convention. You’re a Californian and a member of our legislature-a traitor, as I see it.”
Dan remained silent, trying to evaluate Shaw’s mood. If he decided Dan had outwitted him and gotten Nicole away, it might serve only to infuriate Shaw, who seemed quite content to take his victories where he could find them. Sgt. Krueger reentered the room and whispered something to Shaw, who stood, kicking the stool over. Krueger handed Shaw a cellular phone, and Shaw stepped out through the door.
Shaw’s earlier report to Wolff, that they had Agent Bentley caught in a trap, had brought explicit instructions: Get the disks, kill her, and dispose of her body.
Wolff’s anger at the news that Bentley hadn’t been found, though Rawlings had, brought a change of instructions: “Hold him until daylight, and then we’ll move him. Leave two men with him and check out Bentley’s place. She is, after all, a woman. She might have gone home to get cleaned up and change clothes. Follow those orders, Shaw. Stay in touch, and don’t go off half-cocked!”
Shaw tried to convince Wolff to let him dispose of Rawlings, but Wolff was adamant.
“Not yet. I’ll tell you when.”
As Shaw reentered the cabin, Dan and Roger Dahlgren were involved in a silent staring contest. Shaw whispered something to Krueger, who stepped outside again, and Shaw resumed his seat facing Dan.
“You really don’t get it, do you, Rawlings? I’m surprised, because your own book has some parallels.”
Dan broke eye contact with Dahlgren and looked toward Shaw.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Shaw continued, “I’ve read the newest hot novel, just to see what makes you tick. You’ve chosen the wrong side this time, and put a blemish on your family’s history.”
“And does the history of the brigade take lightly to murder?” Dan asked.
“Murder?” Shaw once again shook his head. “Rawlings, you’re denser than I thought. Try to get it through your thick skull. It’s war! That changes everything. What you call murder is execution-of traitors who stand in the way of victory. Idiots like you, who haven’t the courage to know where to stand, how to read the future,” he said, allowing the thought to sink in. “But that’s okay. You and Nathan Hale’s buddy, Benjamin Rumsey, are gonna have something in common. I hadn’t thought of the garrote until I read your book-the British had a lot of experience dealing with traitors, and the garrote was the perfect answer. We’ll give that proper consideration in your case-but you’re both gonna have unmarked graves and just disappear. ‘An ignominious end,’ isn’t it?” Shaw said, quoting Voices in My Blood.
Dan looked into Shaw’s eyes and saw only pleasure. He could see that Shaw relished the idea of putting fear into a man.
“Gotta leave you for awhile, Mr. Rawlings,” Shaw said, standing up. “But Captain Dahlgren and one of the brigade troopers will keep you company. Come sunup-that is, if you’re still around to see sunup-we’ll meet again. Be a good boy, Mr. Rawlings, and the troops will treat you fair. Act up, and I may not have the pleasure of using a modern-day garrote.”
Dan continued his silence as Shaw spoke again with Krueger, who had reentered the cabin with two men. He then turned to face Dahlgren.
“Bind him, Captain, and stay alert-one inside, one outside. Trade off if the weather gets worse,” Shaw ordered. “We’ll be back at first light. One more thing, Captain Dahlgren,” Shaw said, zipping up his fatigue jacket and looking intently at Dan. “If anyone other than us appears. .” He hesitated, a slow grin spreading across his face as he watched Dahlgren tying Dan to the chair, his arms twisted behind his back. “. . kill him, and then hightail it over the mountain.”
Nicole dropped flat as she heard approaching voices. This time, however, she had no rocky cleft in which to hide. She had slowly begun a descent toward the cabin, determined that Dan would not be tortured if she could do anything about it. As he had described his plan to her, and she could see the determination in his face, she found no reason to describe the condition of the skinheads the FBI now knew had been bludgeoned to death by members of the brigade, or the viciousness with which they had assaulted and murdered Ann Macintosh. These men were ruthless, capable of great cruelty, and she didn’t believe they would necessarily wait for orders from higher up before deciding what to do with Dan.
She hadn’t expected the men to return so quickly, however, and she was caught out in the open with only trees and bushes to hide behind. The weather was on her side-unless, of course, another lightning bolt illuminated the area. Hugging the earth, Nicole held her breath as three men passed within twenty yards without spotting her position. She lay still for several minutes after the final sounds of their movements died in the darkness, after which she resumed her cautious descent toward the cabin.
Through the darkness, she eventually crept close enough to see the dim glare from the lantern through the cabin window. The rain had stopped, and moonlight breaking through the clouds gave her an occasional glimpse of the cabin itself. But her opportunity came when the outside guard, in defiance of all military procedure, lit a cigarette, raising the night goggles to his forehead before he did so. Nicole watched silently for over an hour as a plan formed in her mind, hindered only by not knowing how many men were in the cabin. It was clear there was only the one guard outside, but there could be more inside. She only heard three or four voices when she was up on the hillside, so if three had passed on their way out, it seemed reasonable to assume that probably one, but not more than two, were in the cabin.