They weren’t any closer to the KSF hideout and now the news was interrupting programs on every station, including the cartoon channel, identifying Payson as the headquarters for Kemel Kharrazi and his crew of terrorists.
“What did Walt have to say?” Matt asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“He said that everyone was proud of us. Riggs wanted to congratulate me for finding the KSF hideout.”
“But we haven’t found the hideout.”
“That’s what I told Walt, but I guess they’re finally convinced that Kharrazi has his crew up here somewhere. DPS has quarantined Payson. No one comes in or goes out without inspection. They’re sending us a SWAT team and Special Ops from Phoenix.”
“How long before they get here?”
Nick looked at his watch. It was seven-fifteen, nine-fifteen in D.C. “The first chopper should get here in about twenty minutes.” Nick took a gulp of Diet Pepsi, then looked at Matt. “He said something else.”
Matt cocked his head.
“He said the President has scheduled a press conference for eleven thirty p.m. Eastern Standard Time.
A frown curled Matt’s lips. “Don’t tell me.”
Nick nodded. “If we don’t find Kharrazi by then, he’s announcing a withdrawal.”
“You tell Walt that it wouldn’t be the last time terrorists threaten the White House?”
“I told him.”
“He have anything to say about it?”
“He said we should get Kharrazi and make this all moot.”
Matt walked away shaking his head. He shoved open the door to the men’s room and disappeared inside.
Nick knew that every minute counted, but he had to let the crew catch its breath while reinforcements made their way to Payson. He dialed his cell phone and when he heard his wife’s feeble voice, he nearly wept. “Hi, Baby,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?”
“I miss you,” Julie said. “Are you almost done?”
“Almost.”
“You know, Nick, what I said about… you know, killing him… I was kind of juiced up on painkillers at the time. I really want you to come home and be here with me.”
Nick cupped a hand over his eyes. “Jule, I’m not coming home to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”
There was a pause. “Is that how you would feel if you stopped right now — like danger will follow you home?”
He didn’t want to frighten her, yet he couldn’t allow her to be caged by FBI protection twenty-four hours a day. Not long term.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“But Sweetie, that puts us back to square one. There will always be someone out there,” her voice cracked. “It’s never going to stop.”
Nick paced into a dark hallway that led to the prison cells. The only thing on the wall was an ancient payphone jutting out into the narrow corridor. Atop the phone was an abandoned Styrofoam cup. Nick increased speed as he spoke. “Listen, Jule, this time it’s different. It’s personal. I promise I will not be an FBI agent thirty days from now. One way or another, I will be done.”
“I don’t know if I like how you said that, Nick. What do you mean ‘one way or another you’ll be done’?”
“I mean…” Nick thought about what he meant. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t plot out his goals on a chart and check them off as he went. How could he possibly resolve the KSF threat in such a short period? “I mean… I mean I’m going to get Kharrazi.”
“Will you ever be able to let go?”
Nick didn’t have the details yet, just disconnected ideas floating around in his head like tiny bits of hydrogen and oxygen looking for a way to merge into something significant. He was distracted by a pair of headlights that lit up the inside of the reception room. He heard Carl Rutherford murmur something about sticking a bullet between the Sheriff’s eyes.
“Listen, Jule, I’ve got to go.” Tell her, he thought. Tell her what she needs to hear. But the moment passed, and once again, Nick grappled for something resembling appropriate. “I’ll be home tomorrow — I promise. We’ll talk then.”
“I love you.” She hung up, giving him the out he needed.
“Now listen up,” Matt was instructing Rutherford and Tolliver. “We go straight by the book. We read him his rights and take him into custody. End of story. We don’t want any well-paid attorneys getting him off on a police brutality charge. Understand?”
The two agents were more interested in their burritos than some corrupt Sheriff. They both nodded with mouths full of beans. The front door creaked open and Sheriff Skrugs marched in with his airy smile intact. He stopped cold when he saw the audience waiting for him. He tried, but he couldn’t hide his astonishment. He continued through the doorway tentatively while his eyes darted from agent to agent as if he was trying to discover how much they knew.
“Evening, Sheriff,” Matt twanged.
“Well… how did it go?” Skrugs’ voice was shaky.
Matt approached the sheriff with a sinister grin. “Bet you didn’t think you’d ever see us again.”
Skrugs assumed his trademark pompous smirk. “Now why in the world would you go and say a thing like that?”
Matt hesitated for just a moment, then squeezed his fist shut and flew an uppercut into Skrugs’ chin. The Sheriff’s teeth snapped together like castanets as he fell back and hit the floor flush, the full weight of his body causing the room to shake.
Nick jumped to Matt’s side. He looked sideways at his partner. “By the book, eh?”
For the first time in their tenure together, Matt was speechless. He just stood with his fist clenched as if he were waiting for Skrugs to get to his feet and take another blow.
But Skrugs was phlegmatic. He slowly rose to one elbow and rubbed his chin with an air of superiority, as if his acquired knowledge would sustain him. Nick wasn’t sure if it was the grin or the residual tension left behind from the ambush, but he suddenly found himself with his hand grasping the Sheriff’s throat. His grip was so tight that Skrugs’ skin oozed from between Nick’s fingers like Play-Doh. Skrugs' face turned red while appearing anxious to hear Nick’s demands.
Nick simply squeezed harder and harder until he was fairly certain he would suffocate Skrugs in a matter of seconds. The Sheriff desperately pulled on Nick’s arms and searched the room for support from anywhere he might find it. He found nothing but steady glares from the observing agents.
With the wall of blood rushing to his head, Nick didn’t hear the door open.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Silk stood in the doorway with the confused expression of a child who had just found his little brother opening up all of his Christmas presents. He froze open-mouthed, while a green toothpick defied gravity on his lower lip. He looked at Nick for an explanation.
Nick released Skrugs and the big man’s head bounced on the linoleum floor like a bowling ball. A strained surge of air fought its way through the Sheriff’s collapsed trachea.
Silk looked down at the Sheriff gasping for air. He pointed his toothpick. “That’s supposed to be my job.”
“Silk,” Nick stopped him before he went any further. “This is not who you’re after.”
Silk looked pensively at Skrugs, as if any revenge might curb his appetite.
Nick kicked Skrugs. “How much did they pay you?”
Skrugs was on his side. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath. Nick couldn’t tell if one of the heaves was a shrug. He pulled out his 9mm and pointed the barrel at Skrugs’ head. “Where are they?”
The Sheriff’s eyes widened.