Chapter Twelve
Thayne had to grit his teeth and take a deep breath when he called SAC Stanger to let him know what had happened on their aborted run out to San Bernardino.
To say the man was pissed was the understatement of the century.
He told Thayne that he hoped Jarrett would recover quickly and that they were both to stay put until he called in reinforcements.
Jarrett was none too happy when he was told that he had to stay the night to have his injuries further assessed.
They’d seen something on the MRI that they didn’t like and the doctors were keeping a close watch on Jarrett’s lungs to make absolutely sure a rib hadn’t damaged one, requiring emergency surgery.
After his conversation with Stanger in the hall outside the room Jarrett had been transferred to, Thayne walked back in.
Jarrett looked up from where he lay the moment he saw Thayne.
He held out his hand and gave Thayne a crooked smile.
Thayne walked over and took Jarrett’s hand, leaning down to kiss him.
Jarrett’s lips felt soft and wonderful, the way they always did, and a rush of feelings hit Thayne all at once.
He loved this man.
He was angry that someone had so obviously tried to kill them, and it made him fearful and sad all at the same time.
Why? Why had someone tried to kill them? Was it related to the fireworks case? That seemed like a very remote possibility.
They didn’t really even have a solid suspect yet.
They’d only just begun running background checks and gathering evidence of Mason’s murder.
Hell, they’d only just found out it was a murder.
None of it made any sense in Thayne’s mind but whatever was going on, they’d survived the attempt on their lives and here Jarrett was, safe and in his arms for the moment.
He ended the kiss and straightened, not letting go of Jarrett’s hand.
“How you doin’, darlin’?”
Jarrett looked Thayne up and down critically, probably trying to figure out what happened to him.
“Your head?”
“They did an X-ray and I have some cracked ribs and a hell of a headache.
Got lots of scrapes and bruises,”
he said, lifting his shirt to show Jarrett the wrapping around his torso.
“I’ll live.”
Jarrett frowned, reaching out to caress Thayne’s chest where he still bore the long white scar from where the doctors had opened his chest to remove a bullet and save his life not so long ago.
“You don’t deserve all this, Thayne.”
Thayne dropped the shirt as Jarrett pulled his hand back.
“What the hell, Jarrett? You don’t deserve this either.
Who did this?”
He sat on the edge of Jarrett’s bed, putting his hand on the sheet covering Jarrett’s muscled thigh.
“While I waited for you to get out of the MRI, I just sat and thought about who wants us dead.
That wasn’t an accident.
Someone is targeting us but why? No one can possibly know what we were going to do except maybe the office.
And even then, Stanger wasn’t even aware that we were coming out here today.
Sarah and Tim knew we were going to follow up with Anthony Revilla and Beth Quinn but I trust they didn’t say anything to anyone.
What the hell is going on? Do you think someone doesn’t want us to talk to Mason’s crew?”
Jarrett shook his head.
“It don’t make no sense to me, Thayne.
I’m as lost as you as to why someone would try to kill us.”
He went silent for a few seconds, contemplating something.
“And fuck all if they didn’t ruin my goddamned bike!”
Thayne bit back the smile that threatened.
He was sympathetic with Jarrett but he’d lost both of his vehicles, both to someone who wanted them—or at least Jarrett—dead.
“Could this be something from your past, Jarrett?”
Jarrett stared at him for a long time, his ice-blue eyes showing concern.
He finally sighed and nodded.
“It could be, Wolfe.
I’m not sure—but I think it might be.
If it is, the friend I spoke to yesterday might be in very real danger.”
“You have to warn him, then.”
“That’s just the thing.
The phone call I made to him yesterday might have been the catalyst to what happened today so I ain’t sure how to do that without bringin’ more shit down on him.
Someone may have been listening in.”
“Can we go to him?”
Jarrett smiled sadly at him.
“He lives and works in Virginia, darlin’, but I may know how to get a message to him.
It’s gonna suck big, though.”
“Why?”
“Cause it means callin’ my daddy and that’s something I promised myself I’d never do again.”
He reached out for Thayne’s hand.
Thayne took the hand Jarrett offered as he gazed at him.
He was genuinely worried about something and even though it was probably something he couldn’t tell Thayne, that wasn’t going to stop Thayne from asking.
He had to know.
He had to understand the man he loved even if he couldn’t tell him everything from his past.
Jarrett never talked about his family but if someone’s life was in danger, he had no doubt Jarrett would do the right thing and call his father if that’s what it took.
“Look, I understand you probably made some enemies along the way and I understand you can’t tell me everything that you did in the past, but that means you need to think hard on this, Jarrett.
You need to try to figure out who wants you dead because it’s pretty obvious that someone does, and if you can warn your friend, you have to call your father.”
Jarrett squeezed his hand and he gazed at him with such a serious expression, Thayne was momentarily rendered speechless.
He’d only seen that expression one other time—when he’d figured out who was chasing them as they fled the man trying to kill Thayne to keep him from testifying against Mills Lang.
But Virgil was dead.
“Jarrett? Do you think this is about me? Wait a minute.
Do you think Mills Lang is trying to kill me again?”
Jarrett pursed his lips and frowned deeply.
He finally sighed, closed his eyes and let go of Thayne’s hand.
“It crossed my mind a time or two but I just don’t fuckin’ know, darlin’,”
he said.
“That would mean someone had knowledge of us when we were down at the border in order to get at my Jeep and that’s a fuckin’ frightening thought.”
He shook his head, sounding tired as hell.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked sad.
“It might well be someone from my past but I sure as hell don’t know why.
The missions I went on were highly classified and if someone from my past who had knowledge of those missions is doing this, well, that’s more than a little troublesome.
That means it would have to be someone very highly placed in the government.
I just hope it’s not who I think it is.”
“You need to call your father as soon as possible.”
Jarrett squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them to look at Thayne.
“Can’t do it from this room,”
Jarrett said.
“Need a secure line and the hospital’s network might pick up my call.”
Thayne looked sideways at him.
“To call your father? I thought you said he was a coal miner.
Since when does a coal miner need a secure line to talk to his son?”
Thayne smiled and then let it fall away when Jarrett didn’t smile back.
In fact, he’d turned positively green.
“Naw.
I told ya that in the beginnin’ when I didn’t know you, Thayne.
I tell everyone that ‘cause I don’t tell anyone who he really is.
The rest of what I told you about my family is true though.
I do come from Turkey Knob and I have three younger brothers and my father is a homophobic asshole.
I just lied about who he is ‘cause… I didn’t know you then.”
“So, are you gonna tell me who he is?”
Thayne asked, reaching out and taking Jarrett’s hand again.
Jarrett sighed and blew out a long breath.
“My daddy is Mark Evans, the Associate Director of Military Affairs for the CIA.”
“What?”
Thayne was stunned.
“Yep.
I don’t tell anyone that.
Don’t think Stanger even knows that, unless someone high up gave him my unredacted file.”
“But…”
Thayne didn’t really know what to say after Jarrett dropped that little bombshell.
“Anyway, I haven’t talked to him since before I left the Corps, but now it looks like I have to.
If this bullshit is connected to the government, I have no choice.
The thing is, it’s also crossed my mind that he might be the one tryin’ to kill me—or you—or fuck if I know, but it ain’t good.”
Damn.
If the man in the SUV was connected to the government… Thayne suddenly remembered the license plate.
“Jesus! I completely forgot to tell you!”
He practically bounced on the bed.
“When I was talking to the Highway Patrol officer, I remembered something.
The license plate I got a glimpse of was a government plate.”
Jarrett suddenly sat forward, then winced and wrapped both arms around his middle as if his ribs protested that position.
“Are you sure, Thayne?”
Thayne nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”
He reached up and touched his head which was pounding like hell at the moment.
“I looked over my shoulder to see who hit us after the first impact—before he pushed us over—and saw the government plates.
They’re very distinctive, you know.”
Part of the numbers on US government plates were tiny, usually preceded by a G or Gov and some were stamped US government.
“Do you remember the numbers?”
Jarrett asked.
Thayne closed his eyes and tried to picture the license plate again.
The numbers were a blur.
He opened his eyes and he shook his head.
“No.
I can’t remember, Jarrett. Dammit!”
“It’s okay.”
Jarrett squeezed his hand again and his expression turned sympathetic.
“You doin’ okay, Thayne? Really? You look downright peaked.”
He turned his head and looked over to a chair beside his bed in the large room.
“You should sit down over there or better still, get some sleep, darlin’.
Don’t think I want ya out there alone, is all.
I’d prefer if you stay here till mornin.”
Thayne leaned over and kissed Jarrett slowly, breathing in his scent—which at the moment was a combination of Jarrett, motor oil, dirt, and pine trees.
When he leaned back, Jarrett was smiling at him, showing off those deep dimples in his fuzzy cheeks.
He looked damned handsome, even with a three-day growth of scruff, bruises on his jaw and neck, and a clean bandage over the bullet graze.
Damn.
Even banged up the man’s a walking wet dream.
“I’ll stay here.”
He glanced over to the chair.
“I think that folds out into a bed.”
“You ain’t gonna get much sleep that way, Thayne, and one of us has to be on his game.”
He looked down and Thayne realized he was feeling guilty, as though he brought all this down on them because of who his father was.
When he glanced back up, his eyes were filled with such sadness and regret, it took Thayne’s breath away.
“I’m damn sorry about all this, Thayne.”
“This is not your fault.
You hear me? I want to be here.
I want to be with you and I wouldn’t be comfortable anywhere else.”
He leaned down and kissed Jarrett again, pouring every possible ounce of love he had into the kiss.
“Thank you,”
Jarrett said, when Thayne finally pulled back.
Thayne smiled at him and stood up, letting go of Jarrett’s hand, and walking around the bed to the chair.
“I’ll be right here.
Just get some rest, Jarrett.”
The door opened and a nurse came in.
She was smiling and pushing a rolling stand with a blood-pressure cup and a digital thermometer.
“I’m Vera.
You must be Mr. Evans,”
she said.
She was an older lady and she was wearing green scrubs with yellow ducks all over them.
She looked like everyone’s grandma.
“I’ll be your nurse tonight.”
She glanced over at Thayne and smiled.
“I’m Jarrett’s partner,”
Thayne said.
She nodded and smiled again.
“How nice.
We encourage family, spouses, and partners to stay overnight with their loved ones.
You’re welcome to sleep here if you want.”
Thayne’s mouth dropped open and Jarrett snorted in laughter.
She looked perplexed.
“He’s a very good partner,”
Jarrett said.
He glanced over at Thayne.
Thayne was tempted to take out his badge and show it to her but he just smiled.
“Well,”
she said sweetly before turning back to Jarrett, “I’m here to take your vitals and give you some pain meds if you need it.
They tell me you rolled down a mountain.
You must be sore.”
“I tell him he’s a pain in the ass all the time.
I guess he tried to go legit,”
Thayne said with a grin.
“Hey,”
Jarrett said, sounding offended.
Vera took his vitals and then asked Jarrett his pain level.
Thayne was a little surprised when he answered with a five.
He was pretty sure those ribs and the rest of him hurt a lot more than a five out of ten.
His own ribs hurt like a bitch and the doctor down in the emergency room had given him a shot of Tramadol which took the edge off but he could still feel it.
“Do you think you could use some pain medicine?”
She reached into her scrub top and pulled out a syringe.
“Naw, I’m okay, really,”
Jarrett said.
“Ya got any Tylenol?”
Nurse Vera frowned a little as she put the syringe back in her pocket and walked over to the computer chart.
She typed something into the machine, staring at the screen for a moment.
“Yes, I can give you some acetaminophen.
Let me go get it.
I was sure you’d be in a lot more pain so I brought the strong stuff.”
“That’s okay.
Just a couple Tylenol is fine.”
She nodded her head and walked out.
“You sensitive to drugs?”
Thayne asked.
“Me? Nope.
Jes don’t like to be out like them things do to me.
I need to be able to open my eyes and don’t like to feel loopy.
That’s all.”
“Because if you actually let yourself be taken care of for once, you might turn into a pumpkin.
I get it,”
Thayne huffed.
“No, it ain’t that, smart-ass.
If someone is tryin’ to kill us, I don’t think it would be prudent to relax and let my guard down until I know for sure we’re safe, Thayne.
I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
Thayne snorted.
“How very Sam Elliot of you.”
Jarrett flashed him a gorgeous smile.
“Roadhouse, right? Love that damn movie.”
“It’s one of my top five of all time,”
Thayne answered.
“Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliot? Fuck.
That movie gave me jack-off fantasies for years.”
Jarrett laughed and then grabbed his ribs again.
“Stop it.
I cain’t laugh.
Hurts too much.”
Thayne loved Jarrett’s drawl and it always deepened when he was under stress.
It was sexy as hell.
“Sorry.
Okay, you lie back and get some rest.
I’ll stay awake and stand guard.
If anyone hairier than Vera comes close, I’ll take them down with extreme prejudice.”
Jarrett smirked.
“My hero.”
Vera came back in the room and waited until he’d taken the medication.
After marking it in the computer chart, she left.
Jarrett closed his eyes and Thayne sat back in the chair.
He pulled out his phone and thumbed through it, thinking hard on the shit that had transpired during the day.
For the life of him, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head that the SUV had government plates on it.
It just didn’t make sense.
But the fact that Jarrett’s father was a highly placed CIA official made things even more complicated.
He wondered if Jarrett’s father could be behind all the accidents.
Thayne’s gut told him no but who knew.
If the guy truly was a homophobe, it might make sense that they were both targets.
He sure as hell didn’t like a target on his back again.
Having his lover in danger was even scarier.
He glanced over at Jarrett’s sleeping form. The man was a true enigma if there ever was one and didn’t that just make him even more sexy.
****
A doctor came in bright and early the next morning.
Thayne sat up as the doctor walked over to Jarrett’s bed.
“Good morning.
I’m Doctor Nelson, the internal medicine attending physician.”
He reached out a hand and Jarrett shook it.
“Mornin’, Doc.
When can I leave?”
The doctor smiled and then looked over to Thayne, ignoring Jarrett’s question.
“Good morning.”
“Hi.
I’m Thayne, Jarrett’s partner.”
He stood up and shook the doctor’s hand.
“Well,”
he said, turning back to Jarrett, “I’d love to sign you out right now but I can’t.
I took a look at your MRI this morning and you have some fluid in your abdomen.
As best I can tell, it’s blood seeping from somewhere below the diaphragm and I don’t like that.
If it were in the lungs I’d think your broken ribs caused it but this is in your abdomen.”
“What?”
Jarrett asked.
He was trying not to sound alarmed but Thayne could hear the strain in his voice.
As for himself, that sounded really bad.
“I want to examine you.
Please lift your gown.”
He looked over at Thayne.
“Can you step out of the room?”
“No.
Let him stay,”
Jarrett said immediately.
Thayne had no intention of leaving Jarrett alone for a second.
They would have had to drag him out of the room if Jarrett hadn’t spoken up.
He watched as Jarrett sat up on the bed and throw his legs over the side.
He pulled up his gown and the doctor unwrapped his bindings.
Thayne was shocked to see how bruised he was all over his body.
It was horrifying to say the least.
He looked like he’d been put in a rock tumbler and turned over and over for hours.
Come to think of it, his own body probably looked like that too.
The doctor told Jarrett to lie on his back and he began a thorough visual examination before pulling on gloves and then slowly palpating his abdomen.
Jarrett’s face turned white and Thayne could see him clench his teeth as the muscles in his face jumped.
He was in pain but he didn’t say a thing to the doctor as he went through his paces.
When he finally hit a particularly tender spot, Jarrett yelped.
Thayne shot out of the chair and walked over to the bed.
The doctor stopped what he was doing and looked up at Thayne who stood several inches taller than him.
“Yeah, I thought that might hurt.
That’s where the fluid has gathered.”
He pulled off his gloves and stepped back as Jarrett pulled his gown back down.
The doctor set his hands on his hips over the white coat he wore and stared down at Jarrett while he contemplated something.
He finally blew out a breath and sighed.
“Okay, you have some internal bleeding which would normally require an exploratory surgery, but I really don’t want to go in there if I don’t have to.
The scars on your body tell me that this would not be your first rodeo but the truth is, I want to keep you here a day or so and repeat the MRI to see if the bleeding continues.
If it doesn’t, I’ll let you go home but if it does, I’ll have no choice but to go in.
Better to be conservative so that your recovery is shorter.
How’s that sound?”
He glanced over at Thayne and then back at his patient.
“I think the whole thing sucks, Doc, but do what ya gotta do.
I wanna get out of here and I wasn’t plannin’ on surgery,”
he grumbled.
“I’ll suck it up and stay put, I suppose.”
“Good,”
the doctor said.
“I’ll send your nurse in to re-wrap your ribs.
Don’t get out of bed until we do that, okay?”
“No problem, Doc.”
As soon as he left the room, Thayne walked up.
He gently laid a hand on Jarrett’s bruised belly.
“Damn, Jarrett.
How can you not take the pain meds?”
“Aw, this is nothin’,”
Jarrett said, “Been much worse than this before.
I just thank my lucky stars the fall didn’t scramble my marbles.”
He tapped the side of his head with one finger.
Thayne smiled at him.
“Boy, ain’t that the truth.”
“You just say ain’t? Pretty soon I’m gonna have ya sayin’ y’all too.”
“Shee-it!”
Thayne joked.
“Now you just sound like some dumb hillbilly.
Come here.”
Jarrett reached up and circled the back of Thayne’s neck, pulling him down to thoroughly kiss him.
Thayne loved the feel of Jarrett’s lips under his.
There was nothing like Jarrett Evans, and Thayne felt butterflies every damn time he kissed him.
He sighed into their kiss, feeling Jarrett’s tongue as he opened his mouth and deepened their kiss.
Thayne had begun to harden in his jeans but suddenly jerked back, standing straight when someone cleared their throat behind him.
Vera was standing just inside the door holding two large Ace bandages.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.
You have some visitors but I asked them to wait outside while I re-wrap your ribs.”
Who now? Thayne frowned over at Jarrett.
“I’ll just step out and see who’s here.”
Jarrett appeared to be annoyed but he nodded and Thayne stepped away, walking out into the hall.
Sarah Connor stood there along with Tim Darcy who was wearing an ATF windbreaker. “Sarah?”
he asked in surprise.
He walked over and gave her a hug and then shook Tim’s hand.
“What are you two doing here?”
She smiled at him.
“Hi there, Special Agent Wolfe.
SAC Stanger sent us to help out.
He says that we’re to work with you until your partner gets back on his feet.
How is he, or the better question is what the hell happened to the two of you? I’m about ready to ask you to change the beneficiary on your ATF life insurance policy to me.”
Thayne knew she was joking but he was beginning to wonder if someone wouldn’t be cashing in on the policy damn soon.
If things continued like this, anyway.
“Tell me about it.”
He launched into an explanation of what had happened the day before and what the doctor had told them about Jarrett.
They were both looking very concerned when he finished.
“Jeez, Wolfe.
You sure you saw government plates?”
Darcy asked.
“I’m sure,”
he said grimly.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on but we’re both beginning to think someone in his past is coming back to haunt him.
He’s really closed-mouth about it because so much of the stuff he did in the Marine Corps was classified, but I really believe he doesn’t know who wants him dead.”
“Either way, whoever they are doesn’t have a problem trying to take you out right along with him, Thayne,”
Sarah said.
She reached out and touched his bicep.
“Now I’m really worried about you both.
Please be careful.”
“I am… we are.
Trust me, until we figure out who it is, we’ll be on edge.
But I will tell you this.
I’m getting damned sick of someone trying to kill us.”
“You don’t think it was Mills Lang, do you? I’ve always wondered how someone on that jury thought him innocent,”
Sarah asked.
“I don’t think so, but who knows.
We’ve thought about it.”
The implications of Mills Lang being connected to someone high up in the government was a fucking scary-ass thought but it was a perfectly believable possibility.
A lot of the militia types were former special forces or at the very least, expertly trained military.
That meant they might have friends in the government who’d have sympathies with the militia.
The Freedom Brigade could be supplied by arms Lang acquired illegally.
Militias like the Freedom Brigade were outwardly anti-government because they didn’t agree with the anti-gun sentiments gaining traction across the nation.
If they had criminal records, and Thayne figured a lot of those types did, they wouldn’t be able to purchase the guns they needed for their war legally.
That made them perfect customers for a douchebag like Mills Lang.
As far as Thayne knew, the militia hadn’t run in Lang’s circles during the two years he’d been undercover in his organization, but that didn’t preclude the possibility that they’d become his customers since the trial.
That was a fucking scary thought.
The militia had some serious firepower the night of the raid on their fireworks shipment, and he knew the FBI must have some of those weapons in evidence.
It was one more thing to check on but if they could prove Lang had supplied those weapons, it would put Lang away for the rest of his life.
Terraciano and other law enforcement officers had died in that raid, and that meant Lang could be charged with the murder of at least one federal officer.
“You’re a million miles away,”
Sarah said.
“Yeah, sorry.
I was just thinking if we could connect Lang to the guns used in the raid down at the border, we could have him for the murder of a federal officer.
An FBI agent we met was killed in the raid and there were probably others as well.
I didn’t even check to see.
All I wanted to do was get the hell out of the hospital down south and come home,”
Thayne said.
He looked up as the nurse walked out of the room.
Vera smiled at them.
“You can go back in now.
I’m done with him.”
Thayne thanked her and they turned and walked into the room.
Jarrett was sitting primly in the bed, looking a little green around the gills and he looked genuinely surprised to see whom Thayne had with him.
After Sarah and Tim greeted him, Thayne explained why they were there.
Jarrett looked none too pleased about being left in the hospital with Tim to guard him, but when Thayne explained that he and Sarah were only going to interview the Mason crew, he seemed to be okay with that.
He sent them on their way with a threat that if they didn’t bring him back something to eat other than hospital food, he was going to start throwing things… beginning with his partner.
****
Sarah and Thayne headed out of the hospital about a half hour later, leaving a grumbling Jarrett sitting up in bed with Tim Darcy by his side, armed to the teeth and ready to defend Jarrett if someone should decide to come back and try to finish the job they started.
Thayne gave him a wistful wave as he walked out of the room dressed in the suit Sarah had picked up from his apartment.
She was the only person besides himself who had a key to his place and he really hoped that when she’d gone poking through his closet, she hadn’t recognized any of Jarrett’s suits hanging beside his own.
Thayne loved Sarah like a sister, but he wasn’t ready to come out to anyone, not until Jarrett was ready.
The fact that they’d be split up as partners if it was ever revealed that they were a couple forced them to keep their relationship a secret.
It had to stay that way—for now at least.
“You sure you’re okay, Thayne?”
Sarah asked.
She eyeballed him critically every time she glanced over while driving.
Thayne glanced at her.
“Yeah.
I have a fuckin’ killer headache and I really need a good night’s sleep, but at the moment, all I want to do is finish these interviews and get back to check on Evans.”
He took a sip of the Starbucks they’d picked up at a drive-thru.
“Damn this is good.
“So, Anthony Revilla and Beth Quinn live together.
Are they a couple, you think?”
Sarah asked.
“Don’t know.
I guess we’ll be able to tell from their body language,”
he replied.
“Here’s the thing… if they are responsible for sabotaging the fireworks show down in San Diego, I find it hard to believe they’d have hung around after their boss got killed.”
“There’s a good possibility these people have ties to the militia, Thayne.”
Thayne nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it.
They may have been the ones who turned the Masons on to the illegal fireworks if they were.”
“I suppose we’ll find out eventually,”
Sarah said.
“Jarrett and I suspect they had something to do with the Chinatown mishap too.”
“Because of the field strips.”
“Those and the notes with bible verses.”
Sarah drove them into the heart of San Bernardino.
The city was located at the base of the San Bernardino mountains where hundreds of southern Californians went to ski every year.
Over the years, the city had become more and more of a ghetto.
A huge number of undesirables had moved into what were once middle class neighborhoods, chasing out families.
Gangs moved in to spread the drug trade.
A lot of property had transitioned in recent years from owner-occupied single family dwellings to tenant-occupied property.
Many banks would no longer lend to buyers in the decaying neighborhoods of San Bernardino as inexpensive rent from “Section 8”
or government-subsidized housing took over many of the homes.
With the decline in property values, drug dealers had moved in.
Lawns died, homes were boarded up, graffiti appeared, the crime rate soared, and urban decay began to take over the once pristine family neighborhoods.
It wasn’t an area that was safe to drive into at night when troublemakers roamed the streets.
Sarah drove to the apartment where Quinn and Revilla lived, and pulled up in front of a dilapidated building.
She parked the shiny new ATF-issued Crown Vic in front of the apartment and they got out, locking the doors and setting the alarm.
Thayne figured they had about a fifty-fifty chance of coming out and finding the car up on blocks and missing all four tires when they were finished.
“Let’s make this quick and get the hell out of here before we have no car to get the hell out of here with,”
Thayne said.
Sarah glanced around and smiled weakly at Thayne.
“I agree.
We’re being watched.”
Thayne glanced at a group of gangsters lounging on the steps in front of the building.
They were wearing baggy black khakis and either white T-shirts that were far too big for their bodies, or tank tops that showed off their tattooed arms.
A number of them had tattoos all over their skin including their faces and their shaved heads.
Thayne and Sarah walked up the cracked cement pathway leading to the stairs they’d have to take to get to their apartment on the second floor.
A gang member scooted over so that he blocked the only open space for them to walk and glared at them.
His companions snickered.
“Excuse me,”
Sarah said, “We need to go upstairs.”
“What’s your name, pretty lady?”
the gangster asked.
Thayne reached up and moved his jacket aside to show the gun in the holster under his arm.
“The lady said move, so move.”
He put as much threat into his voice as he could as he glared at the guy.
The gangster sobered and shot him a deadly glare.
“Who you here to see, 5-0?”
“None of your business.
Now, move aside,”
Thayne warned.
“You don’t look like no local puercos,”
the gangster said, making no move to scoot to the side.
He lifted his face and sniffed the air.
“Smell like federales to me.”
“We’re federal officers.
Move your ass!”
Thayne said, praying that Sarah didn’t challenge the guy in front of the man’s homeboys.
He knew how bad that could make things turn and how quickly it could happen.
He glanced over at Sarah as the gangster stood up.
She was bristling with anger but to her credit, she kept her jaw tightly clenched and stared the group down, keeping her hand on the gun on her hip.
Thayne watched as a manicured finger unsnapped the holster and he had to give her credit.
She was awesome.
The gangster stared up at Thayne as he rose to his full height.
Thayne had at least six inches on the guy and he glared down at him.
They stood facing each other off and saying nothing as the guy tried to think how he could move without losing the respect of his crew.
Thayne waited patiently.
He finally blew out a breath and stepped aside, bowing as he swept a hand out to indicate a clear path up the stairs.
“Lady cops first,”
he sneered at Sarah.
Thayne watched as she steeled herself and then walked right past the guy, stomping daintily up the stone stairs in her high heels and pencil skirt with her head held high.
It was all Thayne could do not to laugh.
He followed her, giving the gangster one last stare down.
As soon as they got to the second floor terrace, he was flooded with relief.
He glanced over at Sarah who looked pissed as hell.
He’d almost wished the gangster had tried something with Sarah.
Her roundhouse kicks were off the charts and Thayne had seen her bring a huge male coworker to the practice mat with a single thumb hold as the guy howled in pain and tapped out.
It had been awesome.
They walked down the terrace, coming to a stop in front of the apartment, and Thayne reached out and knocked.
A few seconds later a man yanked the door open.
He was young with a short haircut and holding a Miller Light in one hand.
He gaped at Sarah and Thayne.
Thayne flipped open his credentials.
“I’m Special Agent Thayne Wolfe of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms.
This is my partner, Special Agent Sarah Connor, Mr.
Revilla.
May we come in and talk with you and Ms.
Quinn for a minute?”
“This regarding the accident down at Miramar?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,”
Sarah replied.
The man nodded and stepped aside, beckoning them in.
They stepped into a small apartment which stunk like marijuana and cigarette smoke.
A small white woman with blonde hair and dark roots stood from where she’d been seated on the couch.
She had bad acne and was also very young.
Even more startling than the smell of dope in the apartment was the massive Confederate flag stuck to the wall behind the couch.
It appeared to be held there with thumb tacks and was the only decoration in the room.
The carpet was dirty and the couch had seen better days.
The coffee table in front of the couch was littered with empty beer bottles, a pizza box, and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.
Thayne took in the scene, focusing his attention on the ashtray.
Several field strips lay inside it, twisted into small curls along with other cigarette butts.
“What can we help the ATF with?”
Beth Quinn asked walking around the coffee table and coming to stand beside Revilla.
“Don’t own no firearms.”
Her accent was deeply southern.
“We had some questions about the incident down at Miramar just as you thought,”
Thayne said, speaking to Revilla.
“Have a seat,”
Beth said, pointing to a kitchen table that was piled high with newspapers.
“Thank you,”
Sarah said, “but I prefer to stand.”
Thayne also remained standing, noting that Anthony wasn’t going to sit either.
He went to stand behind the chair Beth claimed.
“We heard that Greg Mason died from his injuries,”
Beth said.
She appeared to be genuinely upset.
“Yes he did,”
Thayne said, cautiously.
“Sad that.
He were a true American,”
Revilla said.
“What do you mean by that?”
Thayne asked, genuinely curious.
“A hero,”
Anthony said, raising his chin to look into Thayne’s face.
He appeared defiant as if Thayne were going to try to argue the point.
“Our country needs more men like him.
He were a good Marine too.
Him and his wife.”
Sarah nodded.
“Yes, I’m certain he was, but that’s not why we’re here actually.
We wanted to ask you what you remember about the accident when it happened.”
“Already told the Naval investigator all about that,”
Beth drawled.
She appeared to be closed off.
“Well, we’d like you to go through it again, please,”
Thayne said, “If that’s not too much trouble.”
“No problem,”
Anthony said.
“Beth and I were goin’ over the manifest with the truck driver when it happened.
We were standin’ at least a hundred feet away and we both had to hit the ground when the blast happened.
Fortunately, we both dove behind a wheel or we would ‘a probably been hurt.”
“Weren’t nowhere near the blast or would have been killed like Greg,”
Beth added.
“When you were going over the manifest, did you see anything on it that didn’t belong?”
Thayne asked.
“Like what?”
Anthony sounded genuinely perplexed.
“Do you know whether the Masons ever used bootleg fireworks?”
Sarah asked.
Beth shot out of her chair.
“Greg would’na done that.
Everything he used was as legal as can be and anyone who says different is a goddamned liar.
Ya can’t prove any different.”
“Actually, we have proven different.
We did a trace analysis on the explosives that caused the accident and found compounds that weren’t in the legally obtained fireworks.
So, yes, bootleg fireworks were a possible cause of the explosion,”
Sarah said.
Anthony put his arm around Beth’s shoulder.
They both appeared to be surprised.
“I asked Greg if he ever put anything in the show that he bought from bootleggers and he told me no way.
I believe him,”
Anthony insisted.
“That’s true.
They’s honest folks,”
Beth added.
“Did you attend the Chinese New Year celebration in February of this year?”
Thayne asked.
Anthony and Beth exchanged a glance and then looked over to them. “No,”
Anthony answered.
Thayne could read the lie in his face instantly.
He set his hands on his hips and glared at both of them.
“Are you certain? There was an explosion of a Chinese lantern during the parade and several people were hurt.
We found field strips similar to those at the scene,”
he said, inclining his head toward the overflowing ashtray.
“Lots a’ people field strip their smokes,”
Beth said, “It’s mandatory in the field.”
“You were in the Marine Corps, correct, Ms. Quinn?”
“Yeah, but I never saw no action in the field.
Quit before I got that far,”
she replied, sounding defensive.
“Weren’t my choice.”
She put her hand on her belly and looked down.
“Were in a family way but my baby died.”
“I’m sorry,”
Thayne said.
“I saw action in the Army,”
Revilla said.
“Them field strips are mine.
Just got used to doin’ them that way is all.”
Revilla nodded at the ashtray.
“Lots of military does it.”
“I see.
Thank you for your time then,”
Sarah said.
Thayne and Sarah moved toward the door.
He stopped short and turned around.
“That’s quite a flag you have there,” he said.
Anthony turned to look over at the flag.
“Just the true American flag, that’s all.
Nothing the ATF should be worrying on.”
“We’re not worried,”
Thayne said, smiling.
“Are you familiar with a man named Reverend James?”
“Nope,”
Anthony said.
“Never heard of him.”
“How about the Freedom Brigade?”
“Nope.”
Anthony shook his head.
Thayne nodded and turned to look at Beth.
“You? Have you heard of Reverend James or the Freedom Brigade, Ms. Quinn?”
Surprisingly, she nodded.
“Yeah.
I heard of ‘em.
They’re true Americans, one and all,”
she said, once again sounding defiant.
“Thank you for your help,”
Sarah said, glancing at Thayne.
“Ready partner?”
“Yes.
Thanks for your help,”
Thayne added.
They walked to the door that Anthony held open for them.
They needed to get out of there.
The minute they were outside, Sarah punched Thayne in the arm.
“What’s that for?”
“Poking the bear,” she said.
They turned and walked toward the stairs.
The gangsters no longer lounged on the steps.
“What? I am a true American,”
Thayne said, using air quotes.
“Besides, if I hadn’t poked, we wouldn’t know that those two are more than familiar with Reverend James and the Freedom Brigade.
My guess is, they’re card-carrying members.”
“This is true,”
she acknowledged.
“Let’s get out of here,”
Thayne said, “Looks like the gangsters have flown the coop for the time being.”
Sarah snorted.
“Right.
Assuming we still have a car, let’s get the hell gone before the gang comes back.”
Thayne followed Sarah out to their car, grateful that it was still there and that all four tires were, indeed, still attached.
He was pretty certain they’d just identified two more members of the militia and that they were involved in the explosion in Chinatown.
Whether they were responsible for Greg Mason’s murder or not, was the larger question.