Long Road to Mercy

Chapter 63

Pine sat in her newly renovated office, adjusting the controls on her state-of-the-art ergonomic office chair that could do just about anything except fly, although there might be a control for that, too, somewhere. She ran her hand over the mahogany wood of her new desk, looked down at the fresh carpet, and then over at the new solid wood door.

But when she glanced at the wall, the indentations were still there.

Blum had been of the opinion that they should remain as a deterrent. And Pine had heartily agreed.

Pine stared down at the news story on her laptop screen. The country was buzzing about some momentous changes that had taken place within the government. Some very-high-up leaders had suddenly announced their resignations. These included top generals at the Pentagon, the head of Homeland Security, and the attorney general, all with differing explanations, but none involving their participation in a foiled plot to blow North Korea off the map. Others had been reassigned in an unexpected shakeup that had caught many off-guard. And certain key advisors within the White House had also resigned, saying they wanted to spend more time with their loved ones. And the president had, out of the blue, announced that he might not seek reelection. Lastly, the peace talks with North Korea had been restarted, but now with South Korea and Japan in the lead roles.

Even by recent standards, it had been an extraordinary news cycle. Dobbs had evidently used the DVD to full advantage. She expected him to be nominated as deputy director any day now. Hell, she thought, maybe he should run for president.

Her office phone buzzed.

“Yes, Ms. Blum?”

“Special Agent Pine, there’s a gentleman to see you.”

“What about?”

“He’s from Washington, DC, with a request.”

“Okay.”

The door opened, and Blum escorted in a short man who looked to be in his early thirties. He carried himself in a very cocksure manner. His features were sharp and his gaze even sharper. He was dressed in a blue suit, stiff white shirt, and solid tie, with a handkerchief carefully aligned in his breast pocket.

Pine stood. “What can I do for you...?”

The man said, “I’m Walter Tillman. I’m with the federal government.”

“So many say, and yet it doesn’t always turn out to be true. Can I see some ID?”

He took out his wallet and showed her an ID card with his picture on it.

“Okay, what do you want?”

“To formally invite you to DC.”

“Why?”

“To talk with some folks there who want to meet you.”

“Why?”

He flinched and his look darkened. “They think you’re talented and want to recruit you to work on some matters for them directly.”

“I already have a job.”

He looked around the small office. “Look, no offense, but you’re in a crummy office in the middle of nowhere.”

“No, I’m in my FBI resident agency office in the middle of beautiful Arizona, within spitting distance of the only natural wonder of the world located in this country.”

“Only this position would be far more prestigious, a kick up in the GS level, and a lot more money in your wallet.”

“I didn’t join the FBI to get rich. And I could give a damn about prestige.”

“I’m not sure you understand. They want you in DC. At the highest levels.”

“And I decline.”

Now Tillman dropped all pretense of civility. “You think you’re something, don’t you? Because of what you did,” he added with a snarl.

Pine looked over at the two indentations in the wall and was sorely tempted to add a third. “I tell you what, Walt. The day your guys get their shit together to my satisfaction, I’ll think about it. But I won’t be stupid enough to hold my breath on that. Anything else?”

“No, that’s about it,” he said sullenly.

“Good, because I have someplace to go. Ms. Blum will show you out.”

As though she had been listening against the wood, the door opened and there was Blum.

Pine took her pistols out of her drawer and slipped them into her twin holsters. She grabbed her dark jacket off the chair, and, passing by Tillman without a word, said to Blum, “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Safe travels, Special Agent Pine.”

Pine left the office.

Down in the garage, Pine put on her sunglasses, took the car cover off, and stowed it in the trunk.

She fired up the Mustang and drove out into the sunshine.

She had a long drive ahead of her, and she was looking forward to every mile and minute of it.

The vintage car roared along, its big block V-8 eating up the highway as she went from Arizona on a diagonal through the southeastern corner of Utah, where she followed the flow of the Colorado River for a bit before cutting east and entering the Rocky Mountain state.

She stopped only once, for a restroom break and some dinner, which she ate in her car, looking at the stars swarming the big sky.

She held up her bottle of water and said, “See you soon, Sam.”

Pine drove on, timing it so she arrived at ADX Florence about ten minutes before midnight. She got out of her car, slipped on her jacket, and clipped her FBI badge to her belt.

By the time she cleared security and was being escorted down the corridor to the visiting room, it was one minute to midnight.

She sat in the same seat and looked through the same wall of polycarbonate glass, awaiting his arrival.

Just like last time a half-dozen guards brought Daniel James Tor to her.

They chained him down and left, waiting just outside as before.

Tor popped his neck, placed his manacled hands in front of him, and eyed her curiously. And she figured he had to be curious, since he had agreed to see her again.

She reached into her pocket and took out the picture.

She looked at it for a moment.

The image of Mercy gazed back at her.

Pine placed it against the glass so that Tor could see Mercy staring back at him.

“Where’s my sister?” she said.