The naked edge

5

In the harshly illuminated parking lot, dozens of reporters straightened as the barracks door opened. The lights from within silhouetted Garth, who stepped from the building and walked toward them. The weather had shifted, cold enough to bring frost from his mouth. Garth had no idea how the media had gotten word of the attack so quickly. If one of his officers was responsible, he swore to find out who it was and give him the worst duties imaginable. Since Jackson didn't have a TV station or a large newspaper, most of the men and women converging on him must have come from Idaho Falls (a drive-able 180 miles away) or from Casper, Laramie, and Cheyenne (much farther away-to get here this soon, the reporters would have needed to charter planes). Then it occurred to Garth that the person who alerted the media might have been somebody on the hit team. Get as many reporters and TV cameras here as possible. In the ensuing chaos, the gunmen could blend. Any of the supposed news people shouting questions at him could be a killer.

"Is it true that six men were shot-"

"Ranch thirty miles north of-"

"Explosion destroyed-"

"Sniper-"

"Helicopter-"

"Okay, all right." Garth gestured for quiet. "If all of you talk at once, I can't hear your questions." The television lights glared at him, hurting his eyes. "I have a brief statement. At four-thirty this afternoon-"

Suddenly, the front door to the barracks banged open. As Garth turned, he saw a trooper hurrying toward him, a concerned look on his face.

"What's the matter?" Garth asked.

Cameras flashed as the trooper motioned Garth away from the reporters and spoke in urgent hushed tones.

Garth spun toward the reporters. "This'll have to wait. There's been a-"

"Captain!" a trooper yelled from the front door.

A siren wailed in the fenced-off parking area behind the barracks. Roof lights flashing, a highway patrol car rounded the building and skirted the reporters. An officer was silhouetted in the front seat as the car reached the main road and sped north toward Jackson, disappearing around a curve in this sparsely populated section of the valley. Moments later, a second patrol car followed, lights flashing, siren wailing.

Some of the reporters raced for their cars.

Or possibly they aren't reporters, Garth thought.

Others stayed, demanding to know what was going on.

"Tell us what happened this afternoon!"

"Are these incidents connected?"

Headlights blazing, a state police van hurried past, reached the road, and followed the three civilian cars that chased the cruisers.