“Okay,” Wilson’s voice came. “We pull another U-ie at the next opportunity and get back on track for Milwaukee even though I’m sure both of these vehicles have been identified by the Tangos.”
“But since they weren’t looking to take us out, it’s unlikely they know who’s in our SUV,” Burke said.
They executed another U-turn and were once again heading south, towards Milwaukee on I-43. All four of the men from Shepherd Security watched the traffic, scrutinizing the vehicles that passed. These guys weren’t amateurs. They had to have more vehicles out there, and they were all sure the silver Trailblazer was up ahead, waiting for them.
After thirty minutes of quiet, Wilson’s voice came through comms. “Several miles ahead at exit 15-A is State Highway 310. It leads to Manitowoc Municipal Airport. I just spoke to Big Bear. The Lear will meet us there. We’ll hand off our passengers and confront anyone tailing us. If there’s no one, we have been ordered to go back to that warehouse in Shawano to conduct a more thorough search and to secure it until federal authorities arrive to take custody of it and the stockpile of weapons. We’re also to confront and detain anyone who may show up there.”
“Fuck,” both Burke and Tessman grunted in unison. “Roger that,” Burke acknowledged. Even though the warehouse and the weapons needed to be secured, that was the last place he wanted to be heading.
“What?” Brandon Ellison asked.
“Given our recent tail, we’re diverting to an airfield where you’ll be flown out. It’s safer for all of you,” Burke answered. “Stacy, after that, we’re heading back up to the warehouse in Shawano to secure those rifles. Is there anything else there we should betaking a look at?” His eyes flickered to his rearview mirror and Stacy’s nervous gaze.
“Yeah, there are records in a file on the computer that’ll be valuable and back up Valerie and Tom’s claims. I’m sure they’ll tell the federal authorities about them, but it wouldn’t hurt for you to get them turned over to the authorities sooner.”
Burke was surprised that she was being so forthcoming. “Good. Tessman, note the file location, login, and password info. Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of, but can I ask a favor of you when you go back?”
Burke’s gaze again went to hers in the rearview. “What?”
“My husband will be home around five this afternoon. If I’m not allowed to contact him by then, can you go see him and let him know what happened? He’ll cooperate with the authorities, I’m sure. And he may have additional information on the group, maybe someone who he knows is a member of both the prepper group and the militia.”
Burke nodded. “That we can,” he promised.
Further up the road, the two vehicles came to the exit and took it with no further signs that they were being followed. Within a few minutes they pulled up to the seven-hundred-acre municipal airport. Thirty cream-colored hangars were situated behind security fencing, which gave cars access through a security gate.
The white SUV came to a stop at the security gate. Wilson flashed his badge and identified himself. The overweight, middle-aged guard exited the little building and walked behind the white SUV. Burke assumed the guard was recording the license plate number. Then he watched the white SUV go through the gate. He was surprised when the gate re-closed as he approached it. He pulled his own badge out, lowered his window, and presented it to the guard.
“We’re with the white SUV. Didn’t he tell you?” Burke said.
“He did. Sorry, sir, we’re required to document each car separately.” The guard squinted his eyes to read his badge. “Burke, ATF,” he said aloud. He handed him a parking permit. “Keep this displayed in your windshield.”
“We’ll be leaving the airport after our plane arrives, a quick in and out,” Burke said.
“Yes, sir,” the guard said. “Let me just record your plate number and I’ll open the gate.” He pointed to the left, to where the white SUV had disappeared from view. “You’ll be going to hangar number fifteen. Your plane is due in within the hour.” He stepped to the back of the vehicle and then returned to his little building. The gate rolled open.
Burke pulled through.
Tessman scanned the long road that had led to the airport. “Road behind us is clear. We didn’t have a tail.”
“I almost wish we did,” Burke said.
He pulled up beside the white SUV near hangar fifteen. The large door was closed. Rogers was just exiting the side door of the hangar. Through comms, they heard him. “There’s a civilian law enforcement liaison inside the hangar. Our bird is due in less than half an hour. Unless someone needs to use the bathroom, I suggest we keep everyone in the cars.
The Shepherd Security Lear landed and taxied up to the hangar. It parked, and the door popped open, revealing Jackson from Alpha Team. He descended the stairs. Burke and Wilson met him as he approached the two vehicles. “Good timing,” Jackson said. “We were just getting back from our mission when you rang, were on final approach, which made it easy for the pilots to divert here to pick you up.”
Burke knew that Jackson had been on a case in Mississippi with three other members of Alpha Team. He was surprised that it was already wrapped up. “I thought I heard you ran into issues that would leave you onsite for another week,” Burke said.
“Yeah, we thought that would be the case. Leave it to Cooper to threaten our suspect into confessing by telling him he’s being charged as a terrorist,” Jackson said with a laugh. “Never mind, we didn’t have proof.” He pointed back toward the plane. “The rest of the team is on the phone with Homeland now. The guy confessed to everything, including unrelated crimes. It’ll be a few minutes until they’re off the call. Then we can bring your people on board.” He lowered the volume before continuing. “So, from what I understand, they’re being delivered to the FBI, but we’re to treat them as suspects?”
Burke and Wilson gave him the cliff notes version of what went down. When they got to the part where they threw the phones out of the window, Jackson laughed. “Only way to be one hundred percent sure,” he agreed, after he’d calmed his laughter.
A few minutes passed before Garcia stuck his head out of the door. He motioned to them. Wilson and Burke each returned to their vehicle and opened a back door.
“Sorry about the delay,” Burke said. “We’re ready for you to board the plane.”
Stacy pulled herself out of the vehicle first. “You promise to personally talk to my husband?”
