Zero Option

45

Stafford found the sheriff ensconced at his usual table. “Guess there’s no way around it,” Stafford said, sliding into the booth and putting his computer down on the floor. “I’d better call Atlanta.”

The sheriff was inhaling his usual cholesterol extravaganza. He nodded but kept eating. “Use my office, you want to,” he said finally. He kept eyeing Stafford, as if waiting for something.

“Okay,” Stafford said. “That fire has to be connec d to this business.

My guess is, the Army torched the place.” He explained why.

“No shit?” the sheriff said. “Burned down a government installation?

Just like that?”

“You never burn a problem out up here in the hills, Sheriff? I’ll bet you have.”

The Sheriff gave him a speculative look. “Mebbe,” he said.

“Well, think of it as a matter of scale. Yeah, it’s drastic, but it’s in their power to cover it up. Remember, that’s an operational consideration these days in government. My question is, Where’s Carson?

They said at that press conference that they’re looking for him.”

The sheriff nodded again. “I can tell you the whole damn state is looking for him,” he said. “We’ve had ten telexes on him this morning.

He’s supposedly driving a green pickup truck, government plates. Suppose Carson took that thing, whatever it is. Where would he go? What would he do with it?”

“Don’t know,” Stafford replied. “That’s why I feel obliged to call in.

Otherwise, I’d sit back and await developments. One of the leads the Army will want to pursue now is how knew about the weapon.”p>

The sheriff finished — his breakfast. “The Army knows about Gwen and the school?” he asked. “About Jess?”

“No, but my boss does. I suspect the Army has told the FBI some kind of story about Carson. They can’t tell the truth, so they’ll say he’s a foreign agent or some shit like that. The FBI is, if nothing else, thorough. They’re going to go to Ray Sparks probably sooner than later.

Probably right about now.”

The sheriff gave Stafford a long, searching look. Then they walked out of the diner together.

The sheriff’s office was in the county courthouse. It was not a large affair: a reception desk, a bull pen for admin and communications, a hallway that led back to the holding cells, and an office for the sheriff himself. Inside Warren’s office, Stafford plugged the phone line into his portable.

“I’m going to put this on speaker,” Stafford said. “We’ll be secure, but I think you should hear this.”

The sheriff nodded once, acknowledging the professional courtesy being extended, and went to his desk.

“Defense Criminal Investigative Service. We are secure. May I help you?”

“Ms. Smith, this is David Stafford. Is—”

“Oh! Yes. Just a minute, Mr. Stafford.”

“Think they want to talk to you?” the sheriff asked innocently.

Stafford grinned. “Bet they’re running a trace while we wait.”

The speaker erupted with the voice of Ray Sparks. “Goddamn it, Dave, why aren’t you here? Where the hell are you?”

“And good morning to you, too, Ray. I’m on speaker here in the sheriff’s office in Graniteville. Sheriff’s name is John Lee Warren, and he’s in the room. Heard you had a fire last night down there in Atlanta?”

“Wait a minute. Don’t go anywhere, you hear me?”

“Waiting right here, Ray.”

The sheriff leaned back in his chair and sipped some coffee. “Boy sounds put out,” he said.

Sparks came back on the line. “Dave, you there?”

“Right here, Ray.” Sparks sounded slightly less agitated. “Had to close my door. Christ, it’s been a bitch of a night. I’ve had the Army and the FBI and the Atlanta cops and our own Washington headquarters down my neck since zero dark thirty this morning. I take it you heard about the DRMO?”

“Yes, I saw it on the news. What the hell happened down there?”

“It’s a stone-cold mystery is what it is. The Army’s got the scene clamped down like a bell jar and nobody’s talking a whole lot. I thought you were coming back here yesterday. You weren’t involved in that fire, were you?” ‘ “Nope. Been right here in Graniteville. Scout’s honor. And Ray? I’ve decided to stay here. To protect my confidential informant.”

“Headquarters thinks otherwise, Dave. Headquarters—” “Ray?” Stafford.

“Don’t interrupt me, Dave, because—”

“Ray. Put a sock in for a moment. I’ve decided to resign. As of right now. You’re technically my immediate supervisor, so you have been duly informed.”

There was a’moment of stunned silence on the line. “Well, shit” was all Sparks could manage.

“One of the reasons I’m doing that is so I can stay up I here in Graniteville. So I can protect my erstwhile confidential informant. You know who I’m talking about, Ray?”

Sparks had to think about that for a moment. “Oh. Right. Her. Well, look, the Army’s got a brigadier general down here, and there’s a senior FBI guy from the Atlanta office riding shotgun with him, although there’s something odd about that arrangement. They really, really want to talk to you. It seems that Carson guy has disappeared, and they think you might know something.”

“Not about Carson, I don’t. But I’ll bet I know why they’re still agitated. And I’ve met the general (before. In Anniston.”; “He’s the guy?”

“I think so. The voice is the same.”

“You talked to him? The guy that called me?”

“Yeah, Ray, I did. Somebody had to point them at Carson before it was too late. You wouldn’t do it, remember? Especially after somebody planted that IR on me? I’m guessing they moved on Carson but that he got away. Now he’s on the run, with the weapon, the one that isn’t missing.”

Sparks’s voice became quieter, as if he was trying not to be overheard.

“Okay, that computes. You think he has it with him?”

“Yes, I do. That weapon is the biggest, most valuable thing he’s ever stolen. If they’d found it in the ashes, they wouldn’t be coming to see you.” “Well, look,” Sparks said, “it’s like I said: Nobody’s telling me shit about that fire. So far, everything I know about this, I’m finding out from you, which is probably why they’re really serious about talking to you. I guess that means you can either come back here or I have to tell them where you are. In Graniteville.”

“Ray, what have you told them about my source?” Stafford asked.

“Nothing — yet. Just that you had a CI and that’s how you backed into this situation, whatever the hell it is. Now listen, Dave, the colonel has ordered me to put you together with these people. You want to protect someone in Graniteville, wouldn’t it be better if you did it here?”

“I don’t work for him anymore, Ray, remember? Besides, if I return to Atlanta, can you guarantee that I’ll be free to walk out of there when we’re done?” Sparks did not reply. Stafford looked across the desk at the sheriff, whose expression said, You have your answer.

“Look, Ray,” Stafford said, “I’m more worried about what Carson’s going to do than what the good guys are going to do.”

“Why? You mean he’ll go there? To Graniteville? Why would he do that?”

“Because as long as the Army won’t admit there’s a weapon missing, he’s got some maneuvering room. Unless somebody else knows about it, that is.

And somebody else does.”

“Oh, you mean her. But how would he know to go to Graniteville?” “Because I think told him that’s where the woman and the girl were from, back on day one. Back before I knew, any better. Now he might not make the connection. But if i he does, I want to be here and not in some sweat room at FBI headquarters.”

Sparks was silent for a moment. “Well, I don’t know what the hell to do,” he said with a sigh. “All I do know is that the Army and the FBI are waiting outside my office right now. And they really want to talk to you.” {

Stafford did not reply to that., i “Dave?”;

“Yeah, Ray?”

“You’re not giving me much of a choice here. I’m getting a ton of heat on this. You don’t come in, I’m going to have to tell them what I know.

If they have to go up there, they’ll take a crowd and they’ll probably act like some serious assholes.”

The sheriff leaned forward in his chair. “Mr. Sparks? This is John Lee Warren. Sheriff of Longstreet County. We don’t take kindly to serious assholes up here in the hill country, Mr. Sparks. Don’t much care who they are.”

“Well, Sheriff, on behalf of the government, let me j apologize all to hell in advance. But these aren’t my people, and I think they’re used to going wherever the hell they want to. They want to go up to Graniteville, they’ll just do it.”

“I’m not doubtin’ they can come to Graniteville, Mr. Sparks. It’s just the leavin’ in one piece that can get I tough.”

“I’m not sure they’re gonna worry too much about that, Sheriff. This general who’s out in my anteroom right now? He looks like a real go-ahead kind of guy, you know what I mean? And he’ll have the Bureau with him. You don’t want to play hardball with the Bureau. They want to come to that school and see some people, they’ll probably just ‘ do it, Sheriff.”

This brought the sheriff straight up in his chair, glaring down at the portable as if he was about to mash it. “Mr. Sparks,” he said slowly and distinctly, “been lots of nosy folks come up here to these hills over the years, some of ‘em federal. You tell your federal friends there, they come’ ugly, pokin’ their nose where they don’t even belong, harassing people, frightening people, they gonna get run over by a gravel truck, after which we’ll chop their arrogant heads off and throw ‘em in a wolf pit up on the Carolina border, you hear me, mister? You can tell ‘em I said that.”

Stafford leaned forward to break the connection. “I’ll guess I’ll have to get back to you, Ray. Tell those guys to concentrate on finding Carson. He’s got what they want, not me. I have no idea where Carson is or what he’s going to do, and I am now formally out of the game.”

Stafford broke the connection before Sparks could reply.

” ‘Wolf pit’?” he said, eyeing the sheriff.

The sheriff shrugged, the barest hint of a smile on his face. “Gives the tourists something to talk about when they get home. They need to hear bullshit like that; otherwise, all they remember is the poverty and the unemployment. Think of it as mountain lore.”

Stafford grinned. “Wolf pit. I love it. And I’ll bet everyone they bring with them will have heard about it before they get here.” Then he grew serious. “But they will come. You know that, don’t you? We’ve got to screen Gwen and the kids somehow. If the Army’s got the FBI with them, they’ll come on like gangbusters.”

The sheriff stretched and cracked his knuckles loudly enough to make Stafford wince. His hands looked as if they were made of hickory: smooth, white, and hard.

“Will this Sparks fella tell ‘em about Jessamine?” he asked.

“You heard him. Ray Sparks is a good guy, but he’s not gonna buck the system if his ass and his pension are on the line, which I suppose they now are.”

The sheriff nodded. “Then we’ve got to warn Gwen,” he said. He stood up.

“And now you’re gonna learn the advantages of living on the edge of a federal wilderness area.”