“Okay, that’s good. Call Leaf back. Ask him to get a copy of any security video taken from the Sacramento field office. Tell him to have a sample of the Semtex recovered at Freedom’s Echo and a sample of the bomb residue from the Sacramento field office flown over to Quantico by an FBI courier right away. First available flight. I want those Semtex samples flown directly into Quantico’s airfield within five hours. I don’t care if the courier has to be strapped into the backseat of a California Air National Guard Strike Eagle if that’s what it takes.”
Chapter 13
Nathan’s cell woke him. He immediately scanned his surroundings, unsure of where he was. The ER’s waiting room. Having confirmed Holly had survived but remained in surgery, Nathan had planted himself and promptly fallen asleep. He looked at his watch. Four hours had passed. Sitting directly across from him, Bruce Henning had also dozed off, but Nathan’s phone had awakened him as well. The LCD indicated a restricted number.
“Hello.”
“Mr. McBride?”
“Who’s calling?”
“FBI Director Ethan Lansing.”
Nathan didn’t respond.
“Are you there, Mr. McBride?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got your green light. Don’t do anything until we talk again.”
The line went dead.
Henning looked haunted. “Holly’s awake, barely. She needed emergency surgery to relieve pressure on her brain. She wants to talk to you.”
“How’d she look?”
“Not so good. She’s been in and out of consciousness for the last hour. They’ve got her pumped full of morphine.”
“Her burns, how severe are they?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I called her cell. A paramedic answered it.”
“They’re mostly on her legs and back. Not too bad, considering where she was. The doctors think something large struck her head, a piece of a desk or chair. Could’ve been anything.”
“Where were you when it detonated?” Nathan thought it strange he hadn’t asked this until now.
“Second floor, far side of the building. The air… It seemed to shimmer for an instant.”
“The compression wave. How are your ears?”
“Still ringing. I hope it goes away.”
“It should. Might take a day or two. Can you take me up to see her?”
“Yeah, sure. I didn’t want to wake you. You know, I… ah… never thanked you the other night for saving my wife’s life up at the compound.” Henning attempted a smile. “I hear she tried to kill you.”
“Tried being the operative word. Is she okay? Was she in the building?”
“No.”
“I’m on your side.”
Henning nodded. “I know that now. I’m sorry about being rude the other night.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Will you keep your visit brief? She needs to sleep.”
“No problem.” Nathan followed him through the emergency room’s foyer, past four Sacramento police officers, and down a narrow hall lit with fluorescent lights.
At a bank of elevators, Henning pressed the button and took a step back. “We’ve got twenty-one dead, fifty-eight with serious injuries. Seven of them critical.”
Nathan said nothing.
“It’s not hard to guess who did this. You going after them?”
“Big-time.”
“I want to help. What can I do?”
Nathan turned and faced him. “You’re a hardworking and honest public servant, Henning. SAC Simpson told me as much on the drive up to the cabin. Don’t blow everything you’ve worked for over this. It’s too high a price.”
“Fuck that. As far as I’m concerned, the gloves are off.” A soft chime announced the elevator’s arrival. They stepped in and waited for the stainless-steel doors to close. “We take care of our own.” Henning stabbed the third-floor button harder than he needed to.
Being careful not to sound condescending, Nathan said, “That’s not how you felt the other night. Look, I’m dirty when it comes to this sort of thing. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Constitution when the stakes are high enough. Only a fool plays by the rules when the other side doesn’t. If we’re going to find these guys, things may have to get nasty. And I mean nasty.”
“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
“For starters, I’ll need access to the NCIC database, and I’ll need license plates run, addresses, phone numbers. Those kinds of things.”
Henning pulled his wallet, removed a business card, and wrote a number on the back. “This is my cell. I keep with me all the time, twenty-four-seven.”
“You’re risking a lot by helping me.”
“I have to sleep at night.”
“This doesn’t go any farther than you, Harvey, and me unless you want Holly to know. It’s your call. Given the circumstances, I don’t think she’ll object.”
The elevator opened onto the third-floor ICU where they had assisted with the wounded several hours ago. All was calm. The nurse’s station was manned. The gurneys gone. The blood mopped. The smell of charred flesh cleaned from the air. Henning nodded to the uniformed police officer sitting to the left. Nathan followed Henning to the nurse’s station where they identified themselves and signed the log sheet. Holly was in room 312. As they walked through the ICU, Nathan considered telling Henning about his conversation with Holly in the piano bar, how she’d agreed to help in much the same way, but dismissed the thought. He didn’t want to betray her trust. It wasn’t Nathan’s place, nor his nature, to disclose anything he and Holly had talked about. If Holly told Henning, that was fine. And he wasn’t going to betray Director Lansing’s trust either. As far as Holly was concerned, Lansing’s call giving Nathan a green light never happened. And what exactly was a green light? What did it mean? For now, he couldn’t worry about it. He’d do things his way and let the chips fall where they might, although he was reasonably sure the old adage Kill ’em all and let God sort ’em out, didn’t apply.
“What are you thinking about?” Henning asked.
“My next moves.”
“And those are?”
They stopped at Holly’s room. The door was closed.
Keeping his voice low, Nathan continued. “I’m going to find people connected with the Bridgestones. With your help, it should be easier.”
“Where will you start?”
“Ernie Bridgestone. I’m going to look at the visitation logs from his prison term in Fort Leavenworth. There might be a contact there. An old girlfriend or drinking buddy. I’m also going to look into Leonard Bridgestone’s military contacts when he was stationed on the Iraq-Syrian border. I think that’s where this Semtex business started. Also, the Bridgestones probably have someone on the inside of a financial institution laundering the cash. I’m betting it was a fellow officer or a grunt from his unit, but it could be anyone associated with either of them. That’s where you come in. I give you names, you give me everything the FBI has on them.”
“You got it.” Henning opened the door and stepped aside. In a whisper, he said, “Keep it brief, under five minutes, okay?”
What Nathan saw next nearly brought him to tears.
Holly Simpson lay on her back. The top left side of her head was shaved and wrapped with gauze. Both shoulders were secured by harnesses designed to keep the dislocated joints from moving. Her legs, from the hips down, were braced with some sort of external steel supports designed to minimize contact with her skin, which was also wrapped in gauze. Burns, Nathan knew. Seeping through in areas, reddish-yellow stains contrasted the white gauze. Two IV’s were dripping fluids into veins on both her wrists. The soft beeping of her heart monitor was the only sound present.
Her eyes opened at hearing a visitor and she turned her head. “I guess they found us.”
“Hey, kiddo.”
“I must look like a real mess.”
“Holly, I’m so sorry.”
“Can you get me a drink of water, please?”
Nathan approached the bed and guided the cup’s straw to her lips.