Part 13 (1/2)
”No question. But even knowing it was going to cost him his star, he did it anyway, because it was the right thing to do.”
”Brave. Maybe not so clever.”
Howard chuckled. ”And we both know we'd rather have a brave man willing to go against the odds covering our a.s.ses in the field than a clever one.”
”Amen.”
”So, that's the reason I put Abe Kent up for the job. Net Force operations aren't always by-the-book, and this job requires a man willing to go out on a limb for his people. Whatever else you might say about him, Colonel Kent is not a man ever going to be shot in the backside.”
Julio said, ”Thanks for telling me, John.”
”Does it make any difference?”
”Well, he's still still a jarhead, but at least he's a jarhead, but at least he's my my jarhead. For as long as I'm stuck with him, he'll get whatever I can give him.” jarhead. For as long as I'm stuck with him, he'll get whatever I can give him.”
”I knew that all along, Julio.”
Both men smiled.
”Sir? General Howard?”
Howard looked at the doorway and saw a young FBI agent he thought he recognized come into the room. What was his name? Rogers? Not a field guy, but a tech. What was he doing here?
”Sir. We transferred Operative Gridley's car from the state police and went over it, just a matter of routine.”
Howard nodded. ”And?”
”Sir, we found a wireless transmitter affixed under the automobile's rear b.u.mper.”
Howard exchanged a quick glance with Julio. ”A bug?”
”And not one of ours, I take it?” Fernandez said.
”No, sir, Lieutenant. Not one of ours.”
Fernandez said what Howard was thinking: ”So we're not talking about road rage. We're talking about a stalker.”
The agent said, ”We don't know that. Could be a coincidence.”
”You believe that?” Howard asked.
”We tend to look askance at coincidence in the labs, General.”
”I want to know everything there is to know about this bug, and I'd like it yesterday.”
”Yes, sir. As soon as we know, you will.”
Howard stared into the distance. A stalker. What had Jay been up to?
Outside Spokane, Was.h.i.+ngton The fall day was sunny, a hint of chill in the autumn air. The alder leaves were beginning to turn, and there was a scent of wood smoke in the breeze.
Thorn, dressed in a T-s.h.i.+rt and Gortex windbreaker, blue jeans, and running shoes, walked the narrow trail next to the rus.h.i.+ng water of the shallow Oregon river. It wasn't Gridley's scenario, it was his own, and one he liked to use. His grandfather had taken him for hikes in the forest a lot when Thorn had been a boy, and they were happy memories. He had invited a couple of people into the scenario at various times, usually women he had started dating. Their reaction to it usually gave him a good idea of whether there was much chance of the relations.h.i.+ps going anywhere.
One woman he'd met in college had laughed and wanted to know why he wasn't wearing moccasins and buckskins, him being an Indian and all. Another had walked for ten minutes and said, ”Borrring.”
Both women had been drop-dead gorgeous and ready to spend serious time in the sack with him, but he had shut them down after that. A woman who didn't enjoy a walk in the forest, no matter how s.e.xy or smart she was, just wasn't going to pan out in the long run. Not for him.
He spotted some bear scat just off the trail ahead. He stopped, squatted, and used a small stick to poke at the dung. Fairly fresh, still moist, still pungent. He smiled at the old joke that popped up in his memory: How do you protect yourself from grizzly bears when you are in the back woods? You wear little bells on your shoes to warn them you are coming, and you carry pepper spray in case they see you. And how do you tell grizzly scat from black bear scat? The grizzly scat has little bells in it, and smells like pepper spray.
This was black bear-there weren't any grizzlies in these woods, virtual or real world, and hadn't been for years. A black bear was much smaller and less likely to give you any trouble, but they'd go a couple hundred pounds, had teeth that could snap your arm or bite your face off, and you didn't want to mess with a momma and cubs or a male in mating season. Most people didn't realize that bears could outrun people in the short haul, and could climb, too.
At least he was on the right path. Gridley's pa.s.swords were down this way, and maybe he wouldn't need the big Cray to figure them out when he found them.
He stood and started back down the trail.
A deep voice drowned out the sound of the river bubbling over the big rocks: ”Emergency override, Commander. General Howard calling.”
Thorn stopped. ”End scenario,” he said.
Net Force HQ Quantico, Virginia The incoming call had visual-Howard was using his virgil, so it must be important.
”General. What's up?”
”The FBI found a bug on Jay Gridley's car.”
Thorn digested that and considered the implications. ”You think it might not be road rage.” It was not a question.
”Somebody was tracking him. It would be pa.s.sing coincidental if it was somebody else other than the guy who shot him.”
”You tell the lab guys to hit it hard?”
”Yes, sir.”
”State police know about it?”
”I expect so.”
”Keep me in the loop.”
”Yes, sir.”
After Howard discommed, Thorn went over the new input. Somebody was after Gridley in particular. Why?
Could be personal, though that didn't seem likely. A lot of effort to bug his car and track him, then try an a.s.sa.s.sination on a major highway with witnesses all around. Did Gridley have enemies like that? He'd been here for years-n.o.body had said anything about him having ha.s.sles. Thorn could check with the man's wife, but that scenario, that Gridley had personal enemies, just didn't feel right.
So that left work. Who would want to knock off a Net Force op?