Deadlock

24

Jalicia and Coburn took their seats in a meeting room within the 9th Circuit Court of Appeal Building in downtown San Francisco. The cell phone of Manny Lopez, the US Marshal in charge of court security, chirped. As he shrugged an apology, the cell phone of the man sitting next to him, an FBI field agent by the name of Peter Breedlove, blasted out the James Bond theme tune. Flushing, Breedlove scrambled to answer it.

He listened for a few moments, then said, ‘When?’ He covered his cell phone with one hand. ‘A bomb threat was just phoned in to the Santa Ana Federal Court building by someone claiming to be from the White Aryan Resistance Movement.’

‘They give a code word?’ Coburn asked.

Breedlove looked irritated. ‘No one heard of these guys until today.’

Jalicia, sitting at the head of the table, put a line through the Santa Ana Court building, which lay third on the list compiled by the US Marshals Service. ‘So, where do we go from here?’

Coburn cleared his throat. ‘The trial doesn’t have to stay in California, does it?’ he asked.

‘Nope,’ said the judge who’d been hearing the case. ‘As long as it’s in a state covered by the 9th Circuit. What were you thinking, Agent Coburn?’

‘Well, we can safely assume, even from early reports, that it’s the same group, and that they’re active in California. After all, California is the Aryan Brotherhood’s home turf.’

Bobby Gross, who’d insisted on being party to the discussion, loosened his tie. ‘Let’s not jump to any conclusions as to who’s responsible,’ he said.

Jalicia noticed that the vein in his neck was pulsing.

‘Oh, come on,’ said Manny Lopez. ‘Who else wants this trial stopped bad enough to bomb at least two Federal Buildings?’

Gross stood up. ‘I will not tolerate-’

‘Regardless of who’s responsible,’ Coburn said, smoothing his hands across the conference table, ‘I think everyone can agree that California’s too dangerous right now.’

There was a general murmur of agreement.

Jalicia leaned forward. ‘You have somewhere in mind?’

‘I think the more remote we go, the better. A smaller community than Los Angeles. That means if anyone shows up who’s out of place it’s going to be one hell of a lot easier to spot them.’

Breedlove, the FBI agent with the 007 fetish, nodded. ‘Makes sense to me. It’s too easy for these people to blend in at a big city court facility.’

‘Then I have just the place,’ Coburn said.

Ten minutes later, across the bay in Oakland, Chance snatched up her cell phone and heard the man on the other end of the line say, ‘It’s playing just like you said.’

Chance’s heart began to pound. Hers had been an educated guess about what would happen after the explosion. When she’d heard that six people had been killed her heart had sunk. Not because she felt bad for them — most of them were either black or Hispanic — but because she thought they might stop the trial entirely, which could set things back weeks if not months. What she’d been counting on was the bloodthirstiness of the prosecutor, and Jalicia Jones hadn’t disappointed.

‘They’re moving it?’

‘Yup.’

There was the sound of voices in the background. Chance was about to end the call when the man on the other end of the line said, ‘Be right with you.’

She could hear the man talking to someone, then he came back to the phone. She smiled at the thought they had someone right there in the belly of the beast.

‘Yeah,’ said the man. ‘They’re moving it to Medford in Oregon. Hope that works for you guys.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Chance, ‘we’ll make it work.’ She paused. ‘What about Reaper? When’s he arriving?’

‘It’s gonna be tight. They’re moving him tomorrow. Soon as I get more details, I’ll let you know.’