Urlacher was silent for a moment. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation we’re dealing with here. Victor Gant and his motorcycle gang are responsible for an increase in opium feeding into this county. I want to shut that pipeline down.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Ultimately a lot of those drugs are going to find their way onto military bases. They always do.”
“And when they do,” Will said, “we’ll take them off the board. Bobby Lee Gant is another matter entirely. He’s going to take the fall for what he did.”
“I understand why you feel the way that you do. I heard about what he did to that young soldier-”
“He was a Marine,” Will corrected automatically. “One of the Marines that I’m supposed to help. I couldn’t be there to stop Bobby Lee Gant, but I am going to help see that Bobby Lee goes away for what he did.” He let out a breath. “If you’re a betting man, Agent Urlacher, I advise you to bet on that.”
“I think the DA in Jacksonville can be persuaded to do business with us,” Urlacher said. “All cases involving civilian personnel go through him.”
That was true. Only cases that involved strictly military personnel went through military courts.
“We have a good working relationship with the Jacksonville DA,” Will said.
“He might like to have a new one with the FBI.”
“I don’t see how working with the FBI would be in his best interests.”
“The FBI is a good friend to have.”
“The FBI,” Will said, “can’t fill the DA’s court with civilians violating ordinances in Camp Lejeune. The DA can’t hold military personnel in jail if this camp decides those men are better off working at their jobs. Trust me when I say that we make his life a whole lot better than you ever could.”
“I don’t think you can muscle up that much resistance.”
“It’s not just me,” Will said. “With the military, it’s never just an individual. Civilians make the mistake of seeing an individual, but we’re never alone. And these are the Marines. They’ll want justice done.”
“I think the federal government can pony up more respect than that.”
“I’ve worked with the DA over the years,” Will said. “He’s not a guy who likes getting strong-armed. You take that approach with him, I might not have to do a thing.”
Urlacher cursed.
“Now, if there’s nothing else,” Will said, “I’ve got work to attend to.”
“I’ll be talking to you, Commander.” Urlacher broke the connection before Will could respond.
“Sounds like he has issues,” Maggie said.
“Maybe a few.” Will took out his Pocket PC and scribbled Urlacher’s name onto a Post-it note. He’d write up a file about the conversation later on the off chance that they might bump heads again. “Let’s get hold of Shel and Remy. If Urlacher has Victor Gant, he’s probably holding him in Charlotte.”
“Are you thinking they might cross paths?”
Will nodded. “We got the tip about Bobby Lee Gant from the Charlotte PD. If Urlacher finds that out, he might want to pursue Bobby Lee himself.”
›› Interview Room
›› Federal Bureau of Investigation Field Office
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 1941 Hours
Calm and at ease, Victor Gant sat in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. He actually sat too far from the table, but he couldn’t move the chair because it was bolted to the floor.
He didn’t know if anyone stood behind the one-way mirror to his left, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to go to jail long-if he went at all. He wasn’t worried about that. What concerned him more was whether or not he’d be able to sell the other part of the plan.
That was questionable, and it was important.
The FBI agents had left Victor his cigarettes even though the building was supposed to be smoke-free. He knew that was an attempt at buying him off, but he didn’t care. If the cigarettes hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have smoked them. Time would have passed just as slowly, but he would have been more aware of it.
He inhaled carefully, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs to absorb the nicotine. When he let the smoke out in a steady stream, he saw the past coiled in the gray mass. He was never far from the past. Maybe it was thirty years and more on a calendar, but it remained only a single thought away.
One thought and he was right back in those green jungles with Charlie all around him.
The interview room door opened.
Victor barely glanced up.
The hard-nosed FBI agent who had arrested him at the Tawny Kitty stepped into the room. He carried a slim folder in one hand.
Victor knew at once that the folder wasn’t his. He’d seen his folder. It was thick with past brushes with the law and the evil that he’d done. There was a dark part of him that took pride in that work.
Urlacher dropped the file on the scarred conference table.
Victor grinned at the man. “Catching up on your reading, Hoss?”
“Do you know what genealogy is?” Urlacher countered.
A cold chill spilled through Victor’s stomach. “Family history. I ain’t dumb.”
“I never thought you were.” Urlacher put a big hand on the file. “But I find family histories mighty interesting. Not always good reading, but interesting nevertheless.”
Victor lit a fresh cigarette from the butt of the old, then crushed out the old one and fanned the smoke. His handcuff chains rattled and pulled at the connection to the belt around his waist.
“Take you, for instance,” Urlacher said. “You’ve got an interesting family tree. Father and grandfather were both hard-core military guys. Noncoms, both of them. Your father served in Korea and World War II. Your grandfather fought in World War I. Both of them were decorated heroes.”
Victor leaned his head back and blew a perfect smoke ring that floated toward the ceiling.
“You,” Urlacher said, “weren’t quite so decorated.”
“Vietnam was a different kind of war,” Victor said.
“I know. I was there.”
Interested in spite of himself, Victor leaned forward. “Where?”
“I was a PJ.”
Now that was interesting. PJs were pararescue jumpers, men who’d parachuted into hostile territory under enemy fire and pulled out survivors. Everyone respected the PJs.
“I knew some PJs,” Victor said. “They had a saying.”
“‘That others may live,’” Urlacher responded.
“They always said you guys went to Superman school.”
“We did.”
Victor smiled at Urlacher. “I know you ain’t here to rescue me.”
“I’m not. If I had my way, I’d drop-kick you into the deepest, dankest cell I can find.”
“Love the way you sugarcoat things. Must make you a real heartthrob with all the guys you bust.”
Urlacher’s face hardened. “Let’s get something straight, melonhead. I’m not your friend. I’m not going to be your friend. If push comes to shove, I’m going to rip your ears off and feed them to you. Are you hearing me all right?”
“So far. I’ve still got my ears.” Victor took another drag on his cigarette.
“You’ve also got a son.” Urlacher opened the file.
1 1
›› Interview Room
›› Federal Bureau of Investigation Field Office
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 1941 Hours
Before he could stop himself, Victor glanced at the file Urlacher had brought into the room. Bobby Lee’s picture was on top. Bobby Lee looked bruised and cocky.
“You don’t want to go down that road,” Victor said quietly.
“Sure I do,” Urlacher stated. “It’s the same road you took getting to my guy.”
Victor didn’t say anything.
“You build a road,” Urlacher said, “it goes both ways. My guy says you threatened his family. Now I’m telling you that I can hit you right back.”