Chapter 4
Before they went their separate ways, Lyle dragged Russ over to his MKPD vehicle for a confab. “Look.” He leaned against the car door. “You do realize you’re at least temporarily retired, right?”
Russ stuffed his gloves in his coat pocket. “Of course I do.”
Lyle wordlessly gestured toward Clare’s car, where Clare and the ranger were talking.
“Okay, one.” Russ held up a finger. “You know damn well Clare will go whether I do or not. Two,” he held up another, “Kevin and I are the only people who can actually ID these guys on sight. And three,” he pointed toward Terrance, “he and Knox are two sworn employed law enforcement officers.”
“Yeah. Neither of whom have any jurisdiction in Albany.” Lyle sighed. “Go on. I’ll do what I can to back you up. But later? We’re having a long talk about your ‘retirement,’” he air-quoted, “and finding you something you can do. Legally.” He opened his car door.
Russ grinned. “Maybe the staties are hiring.”
“God forbid.”
Kevin and Knox emerged from the truck depot as Lyle and the deputy were pulling out of the parking area. Russ wanted to debrief Kevin and loop Paul in, so he grabbed his former officer right before he followed Knox into Clare’s car.
Kevin squeezed in between supplies on the narrow bench seat in the rear of Paul’s truck. He shoved a backpack tent out of the way and set a box of granola bars on his lap. “Someday, I’m not going to be the youngest in every situation, and get the crappiest position.”
“Don’t hurry it, my man, your thirties are coming for you fast.” Paul grinned at Russ. “You remember your thirties, right, Chief?”
“Oh, yeah, I had just gotten out of the Union Army after the Civil War.” He angled himself as best he could to address Kevin. “You told us you don’t know the militia’s specific target. Do you have an idea of what they hope to achieve? What’s their strategic goal?”
Kevin frowned. “To be honest, they’re a little all over the place.
One thing they want to do is create awareness of the movement, make a big splash so other ‘patriots,’” his voice was heavy with irony, “will join up. Their ultimate goal seems so…” He juggled his hands.
“Intangible. Ridiculous. You mentioned the Civil War. I think they want to go back to 1840, when white Christian men held all the authority, and didn’t have to listen to anyone: Jewish, Black, women… ”
“Back to when they could round up people like me at gunpoint and force-march us to the Badlands of Oklahoma.” Paul shook his head.
“What about fear?” Russ asked. “What are they afraid of?”
Paul took his eyes off the road for a second. “You mean, besides getting stopped? I’m pretty sure that’s why they killed my uncle.”
“Smart strategy is positive. It moves toward a goal. Poor strategy is reactive. It moves against something—usually something you’re afraid of.”
Kevin leaned forward. “They’re afraid of getting replaced by immigrants. They think Jews and ‘the elites’ are conspiring to bring in immigrants who are going to somehow take all our jobs and I guess marry our women?”
“Oh, yeah, the captain told me about that one.” Russ shook his head. “They’re going to destroy our culture and replace it with their own. If their skin is any darker than a sheet of paper, that is. Apparently Hungarians or Russians are exactly like us, so they’re okay.”
“Really? They’re afraid of groups taking over their lands and erasing their culture?” Paul blew a raspberry. “I swear to God, these bastards are just afraid everyone wants to do to them what their grandfathers did to the rest of us.”
“Truth,” Kevin said.
“Focus, people. If their strategy is fear-based, what are their tactics?”
“To blow something up,” Paul offered.
“With maximum casualties.” Russ gestured toward the backseat. “Kevin told us they experimented with improvised fragment bombs.”
“To push back.” Kevin’s voice was slow, thoughtful. “Scared people want to frighten those they’re scared of. Punish the, the other group. For threatening us.”
Russ fished his phone from his coat pocket.
“I’m going to tell Lyle to add any migrant aid organizations to the list of possible targets.
” He looked out the window, where the sun was hanging low and westerly, long late-afternoon rays glittering on the highway and setting the snow alight.
At three thirty. “Paul, I hate to sound like my wife, but let’s pick up the pace.
Darkness is their ally, and we don’t have long before it’s here. ”
By the time they had all pulled into the parking lot of the Albany PD’s main precinct, MacAuley had reached out to his considerable network, and they had an appointment with Commander Vince Patten—who also happened to be Lyle’s partner from what he always referred to as “the good old days.” Despite his Dutch surname, in looks and manners Patten was 100 percent Italian, and greeted them in the lobby as if they were all long-lost friends.
Which, in Knox and Kevin’s case, had some truth to it.
“Officer Flynn! It’s so good to see you again, kiddo!” Patten threw his arms around Kevin, which gave the effect of a raisin bun attacking a carrot. “And Hadley Knox! You’re more beautiful than ever. Still ready to run down the bad guys?”
“Always.” Knox deftly sidestepped the incoming hug by pulling Russ forward. “This is Chief Van Alstyne.”
Russ shook Patten’s hand. “Not the chief anymore.”
“I know, I know, Lyle’s got your job. I’m never going to lure him back down to the city now.”
Russ introduced Clare, who wasn’t able to avoid an all-encompassing embrace, and Paul, who got a vigorous hand-pump while Patten joked, “So you’re the guy I should see if I want to catch more than one buck next year!”
He stepped back and clapped his hands. “Okay. Down to work. The state police have the Amber Alert up, and we’ve sent out a BOLO with the description and picture of the husband and baby.”
“What about the terror threat?” Russ looked around the group. “Did Lyle catch you up on that?”
“Yeah, but…” Patten gave a whadda ya do?
shrug. “Nobody’s gotten any threats. Not us, not the troopers, not the sheriff’s department.
We called up to Essex County, like Lyle suggested, and they said members of the militia—that’s what they are, right?
—they said they’re persons of interest in a suspicious death and, ah, unlawful restraint, which I guess would be you, Russ.
Me, I think anybody ballsy enough to hold you at gunpoint is bad news.
So I’m having my people check the churches Lyle suggested.
They’re also going to do a visual for any activity around our synagogues, the migrant legal aid, and places like food banks that might serve illegals.
Problem with that last, of course, is those places also serve homeless guys and people on the down and out, so it’s hard to tell who’s suspicious and who’s not. ”
“What about the federal building? Or the courthouse?” Kevin asked. “They really hate the feds. And they’re not too big on the state government, either.”
“Closed and locked up tight on Sunday. Although we oughta give them a heads-up just in case.” Patten looked at Russ. “You got any evidence one way or another it’s going to happen tonight?”
“Kevin’s the man to ask. Kevin?”
“I don’t know for sure. But there was definitely a lot of energy and excitement building in the group. I’m pretty sure they’re going to set those IEDs today. Or tonight. When they go off…” He spread his hands. “That, I can’t say.”
Patten nodded. “Which means they’re looking for someplace that’s open today or tomorrow. I think we—”
He was cut off by a loud buzz-click, as a young officer burst through the door leading to the restricted area. “Commander! They’ve spotted the ten-forty-seven at the Colonie Center Mall! Units on route!”