“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Merrivale was outraged. He turned, studied Gammel’s face in the light of an oncoming car. The FBI man held his features immobile, a dark piece of stone for all the emotion showing.
“I would like that nothing explained, provided you’re able to explain it,” Merrivale said, his tone distant and acid.
“As per our instructions,” Gammel said, “we have been waiting for you.”
Just following orders, Merrivale thought.
He could see the implications in that. There was going to be only one responsible target in this situation. That was in Gammel’s orders, too. No doubt of it. No bloody doubt of it.
“I find this almost inconceivable,” Merrivale said. He turned, looking out at the darkness flashing with vague movements on his right as the car sped toward Fosterville. He could make out that they were passing through open countryside, the road climbing slightly, dim shapes of hills ahead in starlight. Few other cars shared the road. The dark landscape carried a sense of loneliness which rubbed at Merrivale’s feelings of abandonment.
“Let’s not misunderstand each other,” Gammel said. “I came out here alone to pick you up just so we could talk openly.” Gammel glanced at Merrivale. The poor sod was in the jaws of the vise, no mistaking that. Was he just now becoming aware of it?
“Then why aren’t you talking openly?” Merrivale demanded.
He’s more on the attack than the situation requires, Gammel thought. Does that mean he has information that might throw his agency’s position into doubt? I wonder . . .
“I’m doing my best within my instructions,” Gammel said. “I had less than an hour at Fosterville before they signaled that you’d be coming in at Lakeview. I had to rush like hell to get there. They said you were coming in at Lakeview because it had the nearest field with lights. Was that it, or was there another reason?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m still wondering about our own casualties—up at the Sisters.”
“Oh—yes, of course. That was in the report I had at Portland. There’s still nothing conclusive or I’d have mentioned it. The fire played bloody hob with the wreckage. It could’ve been lightning and a fuel explosion. They said the pilot should’ve gone up through the Columbia Gorge, but he was trying to save time by flying direct.”
“They haven’t ruled out sabotage?”
“They have not. High probability if you ask me. Damn stupid kind of coincidence, don’t you think?”
“We’re acting on that assumption,” Gammel said.
“What’ve you done with your eleven men and the patrol?” Merrivale asked.
“I’ve dispatched three cars—two men each. One of the Oregon Highway Patrol cars with three officers was sent around to the south. That’s going to take a little time. For part of that trip they will be out of range of the radio relay equipment.”
“But what are these three cars doing?”
“We’ve set up a communications base in the motel at Fosterville. The cars are maintaining contact with that base at regular intervals. My cars are deployed between Fosterville and the farm, and they—”
“Two cars between town and the farm?”
“No, three cars. The OHP car is a fourth. My three cars are deployed in a wide surveillance pattern—one on a Forest Service road to the east and the other two spaced along the actual road to the farm. They were instructed to approach no closer than two miles.”
“Two miles?”
“Correct, and they were told to stay in their cars.”
“But two miles—”
“When we’re fairly certain of what we’re doing and what we’re up against, we don’t mind taking risks,” Gammel said. “But this case appears to be nothing but uncertainties.” He spoke in a level voice, trying to hold his temper. Merrivale’s carping was becoming insufferable. Didn’t he realize he might be wearing Gammel’s own handcuffs before another twenty-four hours was out? They might have to arrest Merrivale just to save the FBI’s neck. What did this bastard expect?
“But two—”
“You’ve lost how many people in there?” Gammel demanded, not trying to hide his anger now. “Twelve? Fourteen? I’m told there were nine people in that team you sent in today and you lost at least one team before that. Do you take us for morons?”
“Fourteen, counting Dzule Peruge,” Merrivale said. “Your ability to count is unimpaired.” In the dim green light of the dash, he noted a muscle working along Gammel’s jaw and the tense-knuckled way the man gripped the wheel as he drove.
“So we have one certainly dead, thirteen missing, and our own planeload down in the Sisters; that’s twenty in all. You dare ask me why I haven’t sent my people in there after yours? If I had my way, we’d have a regiment of marines on hand and we’d be doing just that, but I don’t have my way. Why don’t I have my way? Because this whole thing smells of a lash-up by your people! And if it explodes, we’re not going to get burned in the blast. Is that clear enough for you? Is that open enough?”
“Bloody pack of cowards,” Merrivale muttered.
Gammel suddenly swerved the car off the road onto the parking strip, skidded to a stop in gravel, set the hand brake with an angry rasping of its latch, and turned off the lights and the motor. He whirled on the seat to face Merrivale. “Look, you! I understand the hot seat you’re on; at least, I have a good idea of the bind you’re in. But my agency has not been in this from the first, although it should have been! Now, if that turns out to be a nest of commies up there, we’ll mop it up and have all the help we need. If it turns out to be an arm of a major industry in this country trying to protect a new invention from the vultures you represent, that is an entirely different ball game.”
“What do you mean - industry—new invention?”
“You know goddamned well what I mean! We didn’t sit around on our asses accepting you people as our only source of information.”
If they have the whole story, why’re they still helping us? Merrivale wondered.
As though he’d heard the question, Gammel said, “Our position in this is to try to keep the shit from hitting the fan. You rub dirt on your outfit and you rub dirt on the whole government. Now, if you’ve been sent out here as a patsy, I can sympathize. But there’s no sense in our fighting each other. If this thing’s ready to blow and you’re here to take the rap, you’d better level with me right now. Are you?”
Taken aback by Gammel’s sudden stop and attack, Merrivale sputtered a moment; then, “Now, see here! If you—”
“Are you here to take the rap?”
“Of course not!”
“Bullshit!” Gammel shook his head. “You think we don’t have our own suspicions about why your boss took the short road to hell?”
“The short road to—”
“Jumped out of that goddamned window! Are you their patsy?”
“I was sent here with the understanding that you would provide full cooperation until we could field new teams,” Merrivale said, speaking stiffly. “I don’t find your present attitude cooperative in the least.”
Still not mollified, Gammel said, “Tell me—yes or no—do you have new information that dramatically alters your original assessment?”
“Of course not!”
“Nothing new to tell me?”
“I will not be cross-examined by you,” Merrivale protested. “You know as much about this situation as I do. More! You’ve at least been on the scene.”
“I hope you’re telling the truth,” Gammel said. “If you aren’t, I personally will supervise whatever action we have to take to fry you.” He turned, restarted the car, eased back onto the highway. He turned on his lights as he moved and they startled a big black and white cow that had wandered onto the verge. It galumphed ahead of them for several hundred feet before diving off into the open grassland beside the road.