“Border patrol. It’s one of their outposts.”
“You think leaving the van here is a good idea? They’ll find it.”
“It’s going to be found no matter where we leave it because of the smoke, and I’d rather it be them. They’ll chalk it up to drug runners and dispose of it. They’re overwhelmed by the border and don’t do any investigative stuff—especially here on the reservation.”
Shane nodded, swayed by his words, convinced that Flynn was thinking two steps ahead. He opened the back and pulled out two five-gallon containers, handing one to Flynn. They liberally doused the interior, then tossed the empty gas cans inside. Flynn stood back, lit a piece of cloth, and tossed it through the open doors. There was awhumpand a sharp mushroom cloud of flame and smoke. The tower of flame subsided, leaving the interior of the van burning furiously.
Flynn looked up at the smoke billowing against the blue sky and said, “Let’s get out of here before they investigate.”
They returned to Flynn’s car and began driving away, taking one dirt track after another until they cut back onto the lonely asphalt they’d used before, Shane realizing they’d traveled in a circle.
They continued west, getting passed by yet another CBP vehicle, and Shane said, “Aren’t you worried about making a crossing with that dude? The border patrol is all over this place.”
“That’s why we’re on the reservation. The Papago territory is on both sides of the border, and they freely come and go.”
“Papago?”
“That’s what the folks around here call the Indians. It means ‘bean-eater’ or some shit. Anyway, with the right ID they just go back and forth like the border doesn’t exist. No worries about being chased down by border patrol on either side. We’re going to walk right through it.”
“So that’s what all the document stuff was about?”
“Yeah. Once we get that, Taco and our contact will walk him across legally. Should be tomorrow.”
“Good. I can’t wait to get rid of that guy. He creeps me out. I’m ready to get back to Utah.”
“You aren’t going to Utah. We’re hunkering down here until the transfer happens, then picking up the load as payment.”
Chapter 14
I wondered what Wolffe’s answer meant to my question about Kerry Bostwick’s solution, but I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I saw President Hannister lean forward and say, “Kerry, what are you proposing?”
Kerry waved his hand around the table and said, “We’re sitting on the finest manhunting organization on earth. Use the Taskforce.”
Palmer said, “No way. That’s throwing good money after bad. The Taskforce is the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. We need to figure out a way to get the Ghost’s face plastered in every post office in America. Freeze him from moving.”
Kerry said, “We’re already past that. The Ghost didn’t do this on his own. He had help, and that help had a plan. He’s already moving, and they’ve already thought through how to hide him. Yeah, we can freeze him from buying a bus ticket in person, but we can’t stop whoever is helping him.”
Oglethorpe said, “The Taskforce can’t operate CONUS. It’s against the charter. They’re forbidden from executing missions on US soil.”
Kerry ignored him, looking at the president and saying, “Wecreated the charter. It’s not like it’s carved in stone inside the Ark of the Covenant. We can make an exception. We’ve done it before.”
Palmer said, “That was because of extreme circumstances.”
Kerry let slip a wry smile and said, “I think we can optimistically call this an extreme situation.”
President Hannister said, “So you’re proposing targeting the Ghost with a Taskforce team?”
“Yes. This is what they do, and they routinely do it clandestinely in nonpermissive environments. Running operations in the United States will be much easier than missions we’ve conducted in Syria or Qatar.”
Hannister looked directly at the camera and said, “Wolffe? You up?”
Wolffe said, “I’m here, sir.”
“You’re tracking the conversation?”
“Yes, sir. And I agree.”
“Who do you have on short notice to execute? Is there a team available?”
