The agent took a seat in an oil-stained rocking chair. "First of all, I don't know who you are or what you do. All I need to know is that we're all working on the terrorist situation, correct?"
"That's about it," Scott said.
Wakefield gently rocked the chair. "The majority of people think these terrorists are illiterate street people, but most of them are intelligent, well educated, highly trained, and shrewd — suicide bombers being the exception."
"We've had firsthand experience with some of the best," Scott said, in a flat voice.
"Okay, then you realize the need to appear to be who you aren't. Like I said, it's the only way to gather information."
"We've had some practice," Jackie said, making eye contact. "How are you differentiating between legal immigrants from the Middle East and the terrorists?"
"Our field agents are working with local law enforcement agencies to establish identities, citizenship, work histories, et cetera, but it isn't easy, legally speaking."
"Racial profiling?" Scott asked.
"Yes, but we're catching quite a few with bogus credentials and a variety of weapons. We try to keep it low-key and get them out of the immediate area as quickly as possible."
Jackie glanced out the window at the agent working in the garden. "From what we understand, this invasion of terrorists extends all the way to the Twin Falls area."
"That's the official line, but we've seen activity and problems branch out in quite a few directions. The primary trail seems to go through Salt Lake City into southern Utah near Cedar City. But Salt Lake City is a dispersal point; from there they go in various directions, sometimes backtracking to head in a different direction."
"How tight is the border?" Scott asked.
A hard look crossed Wakefields face. "The addition of the military units has helped, especially the elite forces and their stealth operations. But the heavy concentration of military equipment in some areas is like sending up a flare."
Jackie was becoming anxious to get airborne and begin their search before they ran out of daylight. "Anything else you can tell us?"
"No, not much else, but I have a packet for you." He rose and walked to a wooden desk, picked up a waterproof container, and handed it to Jackie. "You'll find phone numbers, radio frequencies, locations of our command posts and the joint operations center, plus other info you may need. We're big on communications and keeping one another in the loop."
"You can count on us," Jackie said, without expression.
Wakefield's curiosity needed to be satisfied. "You are with the government, right? Some extension of the CIA or DEA?"
She smiled and tilted her head. "Actually, we're not with the government. No connection."
He tried to conceal his surprise. "Well, my orders came from the top, so that's all I need to know. How can I get in touch with you?"
Jackie gave him the codes for their satellite phones. "The first one is our primary means of communicating."
"Great," he said, and pocketed the piece of paper.
Scott rose from the couch. "We appreciate your help. Thanks."
"Happy to do it." The hard look returned. "As I'm sure you know, a lot of these terrorists are ruthless zealots from many different countries. Some are certified nutcases who look forward to dying. Even the most harmless-looking person could be a mass murderer, so don't let your guard down for a second."
Scott extended his hand. "Your point is well taken."
Wakefield gave him a firm handshake. "I'll have my gardener drive you back to the airport."
"Appreciate it."
When Jackie lifted the LongRanger off the ramp, Scott noticed four marine corps AH-1W Super Cobra attack helicopters preparing to land.
He pointed to the gunships. "Looks like they're bringing in some heavy firepower."
Jackie answered a radio call from the control tower before turning to Scott. "After all that's happened, I'd say it's time to project power."
They flew at a leisurely pace while Scott used his binoculars to survey the terrain. The closer they came to the Canadian border, the more helicopters and airplanes they encountered.
Scott raised his binoculars and focused on an army UH-1H Huey helicopter hovering over a road. "We sure have a strange mix of civilian and military aircraft clustered in the same area."
Jackie checked to her right and banked the helo into a sweeping turn. "We'll try another route back."
She remained fifteen miles east of the Washington border until they were closer to Coeur d'Alene. Low on fuel, they landed and stretched their legs. After refueling, they headed north again and searched an area south of the Canadian border and west of the Montana line.
They made another fuel stop at the tourist town of Sandpoint and then flew over picturesque Lake Pend Oreille. Hundreds of blue herons were perched in the backwater reeds, and a bull moose meandered close to the placid lake. When they reached the Coeur d'Alene National Forest, Jackie made a minor course change to the east and began a gradual descent. They covered another twelve miles and decided it was becoming too dark to see much in the thick forest canopy.
Scott was about to stow his binoculars when he spotted a small campfire. "Make a three-sixty to the left." The glow suddenly disappeared. "Someone just put out his fire."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." He glanced at the GPS coordinates and kept his binoculars on the same spot. "Bring it around into a hover about — coming up at your one o'clock, sixty to seventy yards."
"You're seeing things."
"I know what I saw — hey, there's movement down there!"
The LongRanger was slowing to a hover when two rifle rounds shattered the helicopter's chin bubble.
"Go — go — hit it!" Scott said, as Jackie lowered the nose and pulled maximum power.
"Seeing things?" Scott asked with a dash of sarcasm. He opened the plastic packet Wakefield had given them.
"Did you notice the GPS?" she asked.
"Yeah, got it nailed." Scott used the satellite phone to contact Wakefield. He explained what happened, gave him the coordinates of the campsite, and signed off. "They're on it as we speak."
"Well," Jackie said, with a wide-eyed look, "I think that's enough excitement for one day, at least for me."
"Yeah. Let's stay in Coeur d'Alene tonight."
Jackie surveyed the minor damage their helicopter sustained. "Almost seven hours, par for the course."
"What?"
She glanced at him and smiled. "We haven't had the helo for a full day and it's already damaged."
He shrugged and studied the ragged holes. "We'll get some duct tape and patch the holes, keep the breeze from blowing through."
Returning to Coeur d'Alene's signature resort, Scott and Jackie walked around for a few minutes to cool down after their three-mile jog. He pulled a quarter out of a pocket in his hiking shorts and flipped it. "Your call."
"Tails."
He caught the coin and slapped it on the back of his hand. They peeked at the results.
"You get the shower first," Scott said, as they entered their luxurious room.
After they were refreshed, Jackie opened her flight bag and retrieved the GREAT FALLS and SALK LAKE CITY sectional charts. "I think we need to use a search grid."
"Makes sense to take a methodical approach. We know Farkas is out here somewhere; we just have to find him."
She nodded and moved the floor lamp closer to the table. "Yeah, we know what he can do with an airplane or a dozen aircraft radios." Jackie neatly folded the GREAT FALLS chart into a small manageable square. "I think we should be airborne as early as possible. Okay with you?"
"Absolutely."
The satellite phone rang. As Scott answered it, Jackie began working on the chart with a colored marker. She wanted to check every out-of-the-way airport along the route to southern Utah. She drew a straight line to Cedar City and began studying the remote airports along the way.