Sedona Conspiracy

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ^VISITORS

The more Leon searched, the more he worried. John Coulter had dropped off the face of the planet only days after giving Eric a substantial amount of money and talking about assignments. Coulter knew that Eric and Leon were close. Leon expected a call from him, an assignment, maybe even another unmarked envelope stuffed with fifty-dollar bills. He waited a week, and then called the cell number Coulter had given him. There was no answer, so he left a message. He sent e-mail to the address on Coulter’s business card, but it was returned immediately with the admonition ‘user doesn’t exist’. In retrospect, that was the first warning that something had gone wrong.

For over two weeks, he’d roamed the streets mornings and late afternoons in search of Coulter’s black Mercedes. Those wasted hours were only added to by repeated phone calls that went unanswered. The man had disappeared. Something had spooked him. It had to have something to do with the meeting Eric had had with him, but Eric remembered nothing unusual. Coulter had told him what he wanted, and paid him handsomely for it.

Leon made inquiries with any person he knew had seen Coulter in the past. He went to the Coffee Pot, Shari’s, The Planet, described the man who’d been there before with Leon. Nobody had seen him. He even asked Nataly, thinking Coulter might have come to her shop when Eric was there. Nataly hadn’t seen the man, didn’t know who he was. She looked away from Leon when she said it, distracted by something.

“When you see Eric, tell him I came in to flirt with you.”

“I haven’t seen him for a while, Leon. We’ve both been busy.”

Something in her tone of voice bothered him. “You two okay?” he asked, and meant it as a friend.

Nataly smiled faintly, put a hand on his arm. “I think we’re trying to figure that out.”

“Well, don’t take too long.”

Nataly patted his arm. “I’ll keep an eye open for your friend, and let him know you’re looking for him.”

Leon left her in a dark mood, and went back to his office after another fruitless drive around town. He was surprised to find Eric there, clacking away at a keyboard.

“I thought you’d be at the base today.”

“Nope. I go in tomorrow morning. I’ll be spending the night there before the flight.”

Leon sat down. “Still no Coulter. I’ve asked all around. Maybe he changed cars.”

“Maybe he’s sick, or dead,” said Eric.

“Right. Maybe you’d better take it seriously. My stomach is crawling. Something is up.”

“Either that or Coulter has skipped town. I have enough to think about right now.”

“That’s sort of what Nataly told me today.”

“What?” Eric stopped typing, and looked at him, eyes narrowed. When he looked like that, Leon always felt hairs moving on the back of his neck.

“She said you’ve both been very busy lately. She sounded kinda sad.”

Eric’s smile could be nasty when he wanted it to be. “You in love with her, Leon?”

“No, but if I was I’d sure be with her a lot more than you are. And if you hurt her you’ll see what a royal shit I can really be.”

“Threat noted,” said Eric, and went back to typing. After a few seconds, he looked at Leon again. “Sorry. I’m sensitive about Nataly right now. We’re taking a little break to cool down.”

“That’s stupid,” said Leon, and went to his desk.

“Maybe,” said Eric, and began typing again.

They worked the rest of the afternoon without talking. Eric finished his work first, and turned off his computer. “I’m going home early and going to bed early. I’ll call you if I live through the flight.”

“Good luck,” said Leon, and didn’t look up. The door closed, and Eric was gone.

A few minutes later the telephone rang, and Leon answered it.

It was John Coulter.

“Well, hello. I’ve called you a couple of times. What’s up?”

“I just got back from Phoenix. Something has come up, and I need your advice about it before I do anything foolish.”

“That sounds ominous. What’s the problem?”

“It has to do with someone we both do business with. We have to meet. I don’t want to talk about it on the phone.”

“I’m about finished here. Where, and when?”

“How about your house? I don’t want to meet in public.”

“You have my address?”

“Sure. I know where it is. I’ve been by there on my way to the canyons.”

“Okay.” Leon looked at his watch. “I have four-twenty now. Meet me at my house at five. Just pull up to the gate, and I’ll buzz you in.”

“I’ll be there,” said Coulter, and hung up.

So Coulter had been out of town, and Leon had been wasting a lot of time searching in the wrong place for him. The problem he wanted to talk about had to be Eric. Shit. Whoever employed Coulter had probably become suspicious when Eric wanted to deal with him directly. I can think of a way to explain that: Eric is an asshole who hates authority and makes end runs when he doesn’t get his way. The money will make him back off. He loves it. What else can I say?

Leon thought about it for several minutes, then shut down his computer and locked up the office. The Humvee’s tank was nearly empty from the entire fruitless running around. He gassed up a block away from the office, drove four more blocks south and turned west towards the Canyons on Dry Creek Road. Out of habit, he watched his rear-view mirror every time he made a turn.

A black van turned with him, and was following five car lengths behind. Leon sped up, and the van kept its distance. He slowed to the speed limit and kept it there. It was only a few minutes before he reached his house. Coulter’s black Mercedes wasn’t there. Leon put on his turn signal to make a left turn and pressed on the gate activator above his head. He slowed, and the black van slowed behind him, coming close. Now Leon could see the man who drove the van.

It was John Coulter.

Leon turned into his driveway, and Coulter followed. They parked up close to the garage. Coulter got out of the van before Leon had shut off his engine.

Leon got out of the Humvee. “What happened to the Mercedes?”

“In a shop in Phoenix. The van is a loaner. This will only take a few minutes, Leon.”

“So let’s go inside.”

Leon unlocked his front door and turned off the security alarm next to it. They entered, and Coulter closed the door behind them. Leon put his briefcase on the couch, and turned to face his guest.

Coulter was standing there with a black automatic in his hand, and it was pointed at Leon.

“What the hell is that for?” asked Leon.

“Just in case you’re also part of my problem, Leon. I haven’t been able to read you as well as the man I’m after.”

Coulter backed up to the door, and opened it. Six men came into the room. They were dressed in black from head to toe. Deep red plastic-looking masks covered their faces, and they carried ugly, black and stubby weapons that looked like machine pistols. It was as if they’d been in his house before. They walked straight to his basement door, opened it, and went down the stairs.

“Guess they wouldn’t fit in the Mercedes,” said Leon, and smirked at Coulter.

“I don’t think you realize how close you are to dying,” said Coulter, and carefully aimed his pistol at Leon’s head. “You and Price are probably in it together, but I’m going to give you one chance to show some loyalty and give me a reason to keep you alive.”

“The last I heard, you gave Eric Price more money that you’ve given me in a year. And now you don’t trust him? That doesn’t sound smart to me.”

“Money does lots of things, including diverting people’s attentions. Makes them easier to read, Leon.”

“Whatever the hell that means.”

Coulter took a step closer, and lowered his gun to aim at Leon’s chest. “What it means is Price isn’t selling. He’s digging for the identity of my employer, and has no intention of providing what I’ve paid for. He’s a spy, just like you, Leon; only he’s more open about it. That makes him dangerous, so I’m eliminating him, and if you don’t help me I’ll eliminate you too.”

“Bribery is one thing, but murdering a federal officer makes you a dead man,” said Leon.

“Words can’t describe how much that frightens me. Now get down the stairs.”

“Why?”

“You’re going to lead us through that tunnel of yours to your neighbor’s house, and then you’ll get him down to the basement so we can kill him there. And when that’s done, maybe, just maybe I’ll believe you’re working for me.”

“Bullshit. All you have is suspicions. Eric has never given me a reason to think he’d cross you. He wants a good retirement as much as I do.”

“Leon, if you don’t move quick I’m going to kill you right here. I don’t want it that way, but I’ll do it.” Coulter straightened his arm, and Leon saw a tendon bulge in his hand as he began squeezing the trigger.

“Okay. Okay! I’m moving, but I think you’re wrong about Eric, and getting rid of him is just going to mess things up.”

“That’s another reason to kill him. Get going.”

Coulter waved his gun, and Leon went to the basement door and down the stairs. His own weapon was loaded and locked, but the safety was on, and the holster it was in was velcroed to his ankle. He would need a big distraction to get to it, and now, as he came down the stairs, seven men were watching him.

“Very nice,” said Coulter, and he looked around the room. “You must get a lot of practice.”

“I keep my hand in it,” said Leon, and was careful to keep his hands in sight. Coulter and his thugs had stupidly not bothered to search him for a weapon. If Coulter had the slightest bit of trust in him right now, it was the only card Leon had to play.

Coulter opened a cabinet door and saw six pistols hanging on hooks there. He selected one, a Sig forty-five, checked the chamber and magazine to be sure it was unloaded, and handed the weapon to Leon.

“What’s this for?”

“You’re going to lead us through the tunnel and knock politely on the door at the other end. If nobody answers you’ll open the door with that gun in your hand. If somebody does answer you’ll be standing right there, ready to shoot, but of course you won’t be able to do that. You might get lucky. Price might be able to control his instincts, and not shoot you, or, anyone guarding him might be smart enough to see what’s going on before they blow you to pieces. Either way, we’re coming out that door right behind you, and Price is going to be a dead man.”

“And if I get through this alive, can I anticipate any kind of a reward for my participation?”

Coulter’s smile was more of a sneer. “You’ll get to live, for starters, and just maybe there’ll be another donation to your retirement fund.”

Leon paused a moment to let Coulter believe he was thinking about it, then, “Okay, let’s get it over with. But I still think you’re wrong about Price.”

“Yet you’ll still help us kill him,” said Coulter. “Your loyalty is outstanding.”

“I’m loyal to one person,” said Leon, “and that person is me.”

Coulter waved his pistol towards the tunnel door. “Then by all means, let’s proceed.”

Leon stepped up to the door and opened it. The tunnel lights flickered, and then came to full brilliance. The air smelled of paint and oil and something sharp, like a solvent. The vent pumps came on almost immediately, and the walls vibrated with a dull throbbing.

Coulter’s men bunched up behind Leon, and Coulter trailed behind them. After a few steps he ordered his men to form a widely spaced line behind Leon. “Watch for tripwires. Stay on the catwalk, and don’t touch anything else.”

“That sounds like you’ve been in here before,” said Leon.

“Shut up,” snarled Coulter. “No talking the rest of the way.”

The tunnel ran straight for fifty yards, and then curved slightly to the left. There were no buttresses or cutouts where Leon could jump to and pull out the weapon strapped to his ankle, but he was looking for them, anything he’d forgotten. He was searching the walls as he came around the curve in the tunnel. For one instant he thought he detected movement at the edge of his vision, but when he looked ahead nothing was there, just another hundreds of yards of tunnel and the door at the end of it.

The nearest man was only a few feet behind him. Leon glanced over his shoulder, was surprised to see that Coulter was now several yards behind them, his forehead glistening with sweat. The man looked scared. He looked ready to run.

Eric was armed. If Leon could warn him, the attackers could be shot down one by one as they went up the basement stairs. That meant getting the door open. But what if Eric was right there, waiting for them? A single, lucky shot and Leon could be dead.

The tunnel was nearly soundproof, but not perfectly so. Gunshots would certainly be heard in the basement, and maybe upstairs. If Leon could start and maintain a firefight in the tunnel for even a few seconds, it might be warning enough. He thought about it, watched the tunnel exit coming closer and closer. He looked back again; saw Coulter twenty yards behind, and slowing. What the hell? Leon looked forward again, lost some balance and stepped off the catwalk. As he did it he felt something heavy and sticky brush up against his left side. It shocked him, and his heart pounded hard. He stepped back on the catwalk. The man behind him had closed up, was within arm’s reach. And Leon suddenly knew what he had to do.

It was five yards to the door, and Eric’s basement. Leon slowed, felt a man’s body and the hard muzzle of a weapon press against the back of his head. He reached out to the door, turned the lock, the doorknob, and pulled back hard.

“Eric! Watch out!”

Leon slammed back against the man behind him, and twisted. There was a muffled explosion, and he felt searing pain in his right side. He got his arm around the man’s neck, as there were two more explosions, then a staccato of gunfire down the tunnel. Leon pulled up under the man’s chin, then jerked to the right and heard a satisfying snap. The man slumped. Leon went down with him, scrabbling for the gun strapped to his ankle.

Leon’s gun came loose from his holster and he thumbed the safety without thinking. Coulter’s men charged as Leon twisted around his human shield and emptied the magazine of his pistol as fast as he could pull the trigger. One man staggered and went down, but the other three kept coming, and Leon felt the terrible impact of three bullets in his chest. He watched his pistol fall from his hand, and slumped against the doorway as the three men trampled on his legs getting past him. Down the tunnel, Coulter had disappeared, and two other men were still struggling.

There was a long burst of gunfire from behind him, and then Leon’s hearing failed as he plunged into cold oblivion.