Author: Thomas Watson
Date: 2016-08-22 01:00:55+00:00
Description: Civil forfeiture: the government's ability to seize, keep, and sell any property of any person they believe is involved in a crime...even if that person is innocent. All it takes is for an officer of the law to 'think' the items were obtained through criminal means. The person is presumed guilty and must prove innocence to get back what was taken and the government doesn't have to provide legal counsel. What if this law is just another way for the US government to supplement their income while destroying every innocent person they deem a threat? What would you do, and how far would you go to p
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

BONNER INCIDENT

Book One

THOMAS A WATSON

MICHAEL L RIDER-RIP

1949-2016

Copyright © AUGUST  22, 2016

THOMAS A WATSON

MICHAEL L RIDER

A-POC PRESS LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Credits

Edited by Fast Track Editing

Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

This book is a work of fiction. People places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Thank you for acknowledging the hard work of this author. If you didn’t purchase this book or it wasn’t purchased for you, please go purchase your own copy now.

Acknowledgment

Let me start by saying I lost a great friend and mentor. His name was Michael L. Rider, but to me he was Mr. Mike. To others, he was known as ‘Dirty Shirt’. I met Mr. Mike four years ago and knew instantly, he was a person who had my respect and admiration. I didn’t know why at the time, but would later learn he was beyond knowledgeable in many fields and what he didn’t know, he would learn rather quickly. But in his heart, Mr. Mike was a logger.

When I met him for the first time, I told him ‘You are a brother.’ He considered what I’d said with a weird look and said ‘Well, you don’t even know me how can you tell?’ At the time, I couldn’t answer, but I can now, Mr. Mike, you were a good person. When you gave your word, you always followed through and you didn’t give your word lightly like many today do.

Mr. Mike was a logger through and through. Walking through the woods or driving down a road, he would look at the trees with a longing. Even in his sixties, Mr. Mike was an awesome logger. He taught this Louisiana boy so many things about logging it is unreal, and he barely scratched the surface in the four years we were buddies.

Another of Mr. Mike’s habits was, he loved to read. Needless to say, when he found out I was an author, he wanted to read my books and told me they were great. So great in fact, Mr. Mike learned how to use a Kindle. Something he had adamantly refused to do before; learn any computer-like device. That alone made me proud of my work.

When we would sit down and talk, he would ask me about my characters and stories. And I found out that first year, he’d always wanted to write a book. In his youth, he even took writing classes in college. In reality, it didn’t surprise me much that he wanted to write a book. He had a book he put out on Brain Tanning along with several short stories.

The only thing that held him back: Mr. Mike couldn’t type but had tried to learn several times. Using his two index fingers, he said the best he could do was a few words a minute. Once when he came down to the house while I was writing (He just walked in my house. I told Mr. Mike, a brother doesn’t need to knock and I would be offended if he did.)

I had my headphones on and this was before my thumb injury, pounding away on the keyboard at three thousand words an hour. He stood back watching the cursor zip across the screen till ‘Buddy’ my Chihuahua, jumped in my lap telling me I had company. I took off my headphones and Mr. Mike grinned.

“Tom, you type faster than I can think,” he said shaking his head. He looked behind me at the stack of wore out keyboards and laughed. “Now I understand how you wear the things out, never heard of that before.”

That was the second year I had known Mr. Mike, and I left ‘Blue Plague’ for a while and sat with Mr. Mike who wanted to leave me alone, seeing I was stopping my writing to talk. This was the first time I talked with Mr. Mike about writing a book with him. Seeing how excited he got, I knew if nothing else, we would write the book together.

I told him of an idea about the story and he loved it, since it was based on a logger. At that time, I was buried under in projects and now looking back, I wish I had stopped all of them and started the book that day.

Over that year when we would talk, usually after he came and showed me how to use his ‘Man’ chainsaw on a tree, about the book outlining the story. Until you see a real logger, or faller, as they call their job, you won’t understand.

That first year, this Louisiana boy had got his chainsaw, trapped in another tree. When I first moved on the mountain, I had a Poulan chainsaw which sucked but that’s what we used in Louisiana, our trees are tiny and you don’t cut down that damn many. When Mr. Mike looked at the chainsaw, he said that was my first problem and I needed to go orange.

That day, I took my Poulan back and bought my first Husqvarna. I can tell you now; I will never use another chainsaw. Those damn things will run forever and you’re not yanking on that stupid cord for half the day. Seeing how Mr. Mike always wore a wood cutters hardhat, Husqvarna of course, Tommy bought one as well.

It was a few days later and I got my Husky trapped in a tree as me and my son, Nick, were clearing a spot to build on. Ashamed and hanging my head low, I walked down to Mr. Mike’s and once again asked for his help. Like I said, being a logger and hearing a tree needed cut down, Mr. Mike went to his arsenal of chainsaws, grabbed one, then grabbed his hatchet and wedges, and threw them on the four-wheeler.

“Come on and get on,” he said with a big grin. That was the day I understood how much he enjoyed being a logger and that was the day that for ‘Tom’, what Mr. Mike called me, real lessons started.

Shit, I never knew the cuts on trees had names, much less there was more than one. “You need to quit using a conventional undercut,” he said seeing my chainsaw trapped. “You waste too much lumber.” My son and I just looked at Mr. Mike with blank stares.

A conventional cut is where you cut straight into a tree about a third of the way then bring your chainsaw down cutting at an angle to meet the straight cut forming a wedge. This is what I was taught as the only way to cut down a tree, I didn’t even know the cut had a name. To me, it was cutting down a tree.

“You need to use Humboldt cuts since you’re going to throw these logs on the mill you ordered,” Mr. Mike said pulling his chainsaw off the four-wheeler. Still with blank stares, Nick and I just looked at him wondering what he was talking about. Nick had been taught by me like I had been taught by my dad and papaw.

When Mr. Mike turned and saw the blank faces, he laughed his ass off. After he stopped laughing, he called me and Nick over and explained the different cuts and I learned there is an open faced cut. I haven’t used that one and he was going to teach me that one this year. So that is one cut, Tom will avoid because Mr. Mike didn’t teach it to me.

It took Mr. Mike like thirty seconds to get my chainsaw out and drop the tree Nick and I had been working on for like two hours. Yes, we had another chainsaw, but the tree refused to let me have the other one back. “What other trees you want down?” he asked turning around, flipping up the face shield on his hardhat and we pointed at the marked trees in the draw we were clearing.

I shit you not, Mr. Mike dropped sixteen massive trees in twenty minutes, well they were massive to us, Mr. Mike called them sticks. A thirty-inch diameter tree down south is freaking big, up here, it’s a stick. When Mr. Mike showed us pictures of logging sites he worked on, where the trees were measured in feet, not inches, I finally understood, our trees were little.

He jumped on the felled trees and delimbed and sectioned them out. As he was doing that, Nick glanced at me, “Dad, Mr. Mike is a master. Maybe we should kneel or something,” he said in complete awe. “The trees should just fall down on their own when they see him coming.”

“Yeah, he wields that chainsaw like a samurai,” I mumbled watching what Mr. Mike accomplished in minutes what I had laid out over two days for Nick and me to do.

Now I have some big trees on the mountain, but I thought when a tree got so big, you left the damn thing alone. Mr. Mike laughed his ass off for several minutes when I told him that. Those trees are still on this mountain because I didn’t need to clear them but I can tell you, Mr. Mike put the logging bug in my blood. I look at one of the Ponderosa Pines that’s about sixty inches in diameter and want to grab my chainsaw and drop it.

If Mr. Mike heard someone needed to chop down a tree, he would grab his saw and jump on the four-wheeler. Usually with Tommy following along behind him, just to watch a master at work. Until you see a master logger, you won’t understand. I swear it’s like poetry in motion watching someone fall trees where they want them to go. I don’t care which way the tree leaned, Mr. Mike could put it anywhere.

Did Mr. Mike watch those logging shows on TV? Yes. Most of the time, he laughed or yelled at them that they were doing it wrong.

When my mill arrived and I put it together, Mr. Mike came down and showed me how to make lumber. Yes, when he came down I was reading a book on how to do it. In ten minutes, he had me cutting two by twelves.

I can say, Mr. Mike got plenty of laughs from this Louisiana family. Let me tell you, in the mountains, you get snow. And for all you people in the south, snow is heavy. I learned this, trying to plow the road and getting the crap off my roof the first winter here. Next winter, my roofs looked like a sharp triangle, you can’t walk on the things the slope are so steep. But the snow slides off now and Mr. Mike showed me how to build a roof. Mine still don’t look like his, but they work.

Two years ago, we had a bad winter and there was just nowhere to push the snow, so I asked Mr. Mike if he would take me to town so I could use his truck to get a snow blower. Being Mr. Mike, he grabbed his shoes right then, I’d wanted to go the next day.

When we got back on the mountain, he helped me unload it and went inside to load the wood stove since we had been gone a few hours. Walking back to the shop, he found this Louisiana boy sitting down in the snow by his brand new snow blower, reading the instructions.

I really thought he was going to wet his pants he was laughing so hard. “Tom, what are you doing, it’s put together,” he cackled wiping his eyes.

Halfway through the instructions, I looked up, wondering why he was laughing so hard. “Mr. Mike, I’ve only seen snow blowers on TV. I don’t know how they work or how to use one.”

Oh man, did he think that was funny, that part of the country didn’t know how to use a snow blower. He walked over, taking the instructions away and showed me how to work the snow blower. I could tell you stories like this and fill an entire book on them.

It was September 2015, when I went to Mr. Mike and said it was time for us to do this book. I still had projects out and new ones in the works, but seeing how excited he would get just talking out the story, I paused them. In reality, I wasn’t planning to work on this book until the end of 2016. I thank God now that I changed that.

Working with Mr. Mike on this book, he was happier than when he was cutting down trees and let me tell you, that was something. Everybody on the mountain, all ten of us, would talk about how much he was enjoying this.

I’m completely off the grid and use generators to power everything and I write in the late afternoon and all through the night, till my thumb can’t take anymore. Mr. Mike would walk out on his porch through the day till he heard the generator crank up and knew I was awake. He would go and grab the phone, calling me up and telling about new ideas, since he went to sleep around nine and woke up at sunrise.

One thing I taught him was, keep a notepad near and gave him a stack of them and man, did he take that to heart. We would have regular pow-wows as the book took shape. As I would write, I would print the story out and he would go through it making notes. It was our story and it took a bit, but he finally would say ‘Gene wouldn’t do that’ getting into the characters.

In December, the story really took off and I couldn’t print off the story fast enough because I found out a printer uses some serious power. When I would print, my seven-thousand-watt generator would groan to support it.

So I took my tablet down to Mr. Mike and this is how excited he was about this book. Mr. Mike learned how to use a computer to keep up with the story. We would talk about what direction the story would take and how, then I would go and write. Now he didn’t type, bless his heart, typing is one thing Mr. Mike couldn’t do, but I damn sure can.

Mr. Mike lived with Susan and she would tell everyone, she would hear him wake up during the night upstairs. He would turn on the light and she could hear him rustling paper and knew he was writing away on the story. After a few minutes, he would quit and turn off the light only to get up a few hours later and write some more.

When we first started, I told Mr. Mike he was going to be a co-author and listed on the book and he would say “Nah, I just want to help write a book.”

This very nearly became an argument. I told Mr. Mike if he didn’t want his name on it, he could use a pseudonym, but he just wanted to help.  It was only when I told Mr. Mike I was going to call Tina and tell her he was being difficult that Mr. Mike gave in and wore a huge grin. Mr. Mike loved his Tina and even threatened to spank her when he taught her how to drive our bulldozer. Tina didn’t want to wear the hardhat. Mr. Mike told her if he ever saw her driving the dozer without the hardhat, she was getting a spanking on the spot.

She didn’t listen to me, but Tina damn sure listened to Mr. Mike. Tina would put the hardhat on just to climb up and turn it on, letting the engine warm up. So not wanting Tina mad at him, Mr. Mike agreed to have his name on the book and his enjoyment grew. Mr. Mike told me later he did want his name on the book but didn’t want me to be offended since I was an author. That was one time I actually, almost, got mad at him.

He asked if he could give copies to some of his friends. “Mr. Mike, it’s our book, you can do what you want,” I told him and he ‘was going to make a list’ he said, but I haven’t found it.

It was a pure accident that took Mr. Mike, and an accident that could’ve only happened to him. January 28, 2016, is the day Montana lost most of the happiness for me. Montana was my dream state to live in, but it doesn’t hold that quality to me anymore.

To all my fans, I hope you enjoy this book. Until Mr. Mike passed, this was one of my most enjoyable books to write and it was because of how excited Mr. Mike was about it. That this Louisiana boy could do something for him as a buddy made me really proud. I loved the characters and the story, but Mr. Mike helped me breathe life into them. He would laugh as I incorporated parts of his life events into the story.

Mr. Mike passed when the book was three-quarters done, but it was fully outlined. We would just go over dialog, scenes, and characters. We had both decided Agent Moore needed a new name, but Mr. Mike left before we came up with a good one, so it will stay the same. Mr. Mike even wrote, by hand, a chapter and had the audacity to ask if I would mind typing it up for him. I almost called Tina on that one so she could chew his butt. It was important to him to say something about the rest of the crew and a character he always wanted to put in a story, Eddie Shore. This was the opening for other books we’d talked about and made notes on. After that chapter he wrote, he expanded scenes in other chapters and almost wrote another chapter, again, all by hand.

Yes, we did talk and make notes about a sequel, but I don’t know if I can ever do it. Maybe years from now, but don’t hold your breath. When I think about Joshua, Gene, Ben and the others in the book, I can see Mr. Mike sitting across from me with a huge grin and my God, does it hurt to continue this without him. When I wake up and crank the generator, I look at the phone, missing his call about new ideas.

The only reason I didn’t close the book down and walk away is I know how much it meant to him and I can’t be a sissy boy and not complete this book for him. I can do anything for a buddy, but missing him is the hardest.

This is for Mr. Mike from me.

Mr. Mike, the day you asked me why I now called you ‘My brother’ and not just ‘brother’ anymore, I told you I call friends ‘brother’, I call buddies, ‘my brother’. When I told you a friend will help you move a couch, a buddy will help you move a body and I would move a body for you. You told me you were honored that I thought so much of you.

I wish I had told you then Mr. Mike, it was I who was honored to have a buddy like you. I wanted to tell you that day and several other days later, but didn’t want to look like a sissy and I didn’t say it. I hope you know that now, I miss my buddy.

The first week in January that I asked you about a distance only a logger would know because I wanted to add in that chapter with his family so Joshua could tell the others in the book how close he would come to the house, you told me about Section 19.

Watching you talk about loggers’ paradise, Section 19, where loggers go when they die, I was blown away seeing the exhilaration in your face. One square mile of old growth timber where you fall trees all day long and when you wake up the next morning, they’ve all grown back and you just crank your chainsaw enjoying the work and doing it all over again.

I know you’re there now and one day I will see you again. I hope you won’t mind if I cut trees with you once again and at times just stop and watch. I don’t think I will ever see another master until I get to your Section 19. Even if I do, they won’t be you Mr. Mike, the best buddy. I’ve had very few buddies in my life, but you were one of the best, my only regret - I didn’t meet you sooner.

I will miss your stories and your willingness to share your knowledge with this Louisiana boy. I swear to you, I will put this book out and I know you see now how much you meant to me and others. It is ironic that we talked about what Tina and I would do if you passed after this book was released (Damn it Mr. Mike, that was supposed to be years from now. You said you would live to 102.) and your granddaughters will know.

Keep a chainsaw ready for me Mr. Mike, for when we meet again. You were a lot of things to many different people who loved you. To me, you were a mentor, teacher, coach, confidante and buddy and most of all, my brother.

I love ya, Mr. Mike, my brother, but I’m going to punch you in the mouth when I see you for leaving us like that. Susan told you to stop that. I’m sure you’re going to punch me back because I know you; you laughed your ass off about it when you landed in front of the Pearly Gates. Falling massive timber all your life and you go out of this world by a freak accident, I know when you landed at the Pearly Gates, you were rolling on the ground laughing.

After our tussle, I’ll grab my saw and you can show me what you always wanted and loved, cutting down big timber.

When the day is done, you can share your stories with me again as we wait for Section 19 to grow again.

Farewell, my brother, you will be missed and until that day, I love ya.

Your Tom.

To the reader, I wrote the above Introduction the day after I found Mr. Mike and waited six months before continuing the story, it just hurt too much then. It still hurts reading the notes he made and my notes when we talked, but I made a promise and a buddy will always keep his promise. I wanted to take out that introduction but Tina refused, even grabbing a hammer to prove her point. In the quarter of a century I’ve been with her, I’ve never seen that look in her eye. I don’t know what she was going to do with the hammer, but I wasn’t about to find out. So as you can see, that introduction stayed.

This is the longest introduction I’ve ever written and I did it to let the world know a great man had passed. At his life celebration, I met all the people that called him a friend and there were a lot of them. I knew all their names but had never seen their faces.

I’ve met his granddaughters several times but hell, as much as I’ve heard about them, I felt I knew them and watched them grow up.

The title came from Mr. Mike just a week before he passed. For three days, we talked about the title and had over a dozen good names. It was as I was leaving to start writing; Mr. Mike opened the door for me and said, “Hey Tom, I just got an idea, ‘Bonner Incident’. I like that.”

Since it was our brainstorming session I had notebooks and luckily, I stopped and wrote it down right then, yes, because I would’ve forgotten it and Mr. Mike didn’t write it down after I left. I know because I have the notebooks I gave him to make notes in.

I hope you enjoy this story and, yes, before any readers start asking, Joshua is based around Mr. Mike’s life. When we started working on the book, I asked Mr. Mike if we could do that and he just grinned and said, “Hell yeah, that is awesome.”

Glossary

Turn - One bunch of logs of tree length pulled to the landing.

Round - One complete trip to the mill and back by the log trucks.

Nose-bag – Lunch box.

Skidding – drag a ‘turn’ of logs to the landing.

Wrappers – Cables with a six-foot section of chain on each end for binding loaded logs on the trailer.

Grapple – Hydraulic operated claw-like device for picking up logs.

Hahn Processor – Large stationary machine with grapple arm, conveyer, delimber and cut off saw.

Grapple Skidder – Articulating large 4x4 tractor with a small dozer blade on the front and hydraulic grapple on the back.

Crummy – any vehicle that transports the crew to the job site.

Scrench – Combination ‘T’ shaped bar wrench screwdriver/socket wrench combo (chainsaw tool).

Choker – cable for hooking to logs for skidding. Various length and diameters with a knob on one or both ends or an eye on one end with a ‘Bell’ latching device that slides up and down the cable to cinch around logs to form a self-tightening snare to ‘choke’ the log for skidding.

Landing – The area where logs are brought to be processed and loaded.

Deck – Pile of logs stacked and ready for loading or at the mill.

Crawler – Large tracked bulldozer with a large blade and hydraulic winch on the back. Used for road building and skidding logs.

Cutter – the guys that saw down the trees with chainsaws. Also regionally called sawyer, faller, single jack, or log cutter.

Winchline – wire cable of larger diameter than the choker being used that the chokers are attached to and winched to the back of the dozer to be skidded to landing. Usually a hundred feet long.

Link Belt – Brand of cable Log Loading machine can be converted to a line skidder.

Madill Tower – Brand of high lead tower ninety feet tall.

NDAA - National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) is a United States federal law specifying the budget and expenditures of the United States Department of Defense. Each year's act also includes other provisions.

High Lead – A system of logging clear cuts where a central tower is erected and logs are skidded to the base of the tower using a large cable with a smaller cable attached to haul the rigging with chokers back to the choke setters. Powered by a stationary diesel engine with cable drum winches at the base tower.

Rigging - any number of different types of equipment to attach chokers to winch lines.

Chapter One

Driving slowly up the dark, winding, mountain road, Joshua gave a quick glance over at his thirteen-year-old son, William. William’s head bobbed with his eyes closed as the truck bounced along the road. Reaching up as he moved his eyes back to the road, the glare of the headlights started catching regular patches of snow, Joshua stroked his bushy black beard that had a few streaks of gray like his thick shoulder-length hair.

Glancing at the clock on the dash, Joshua sighed seeing it was 3:40 a.m. “We should’ve had breakfast on the go,” he said glancing again at William.

Jerking his head up and blinking his eyes, William looked around seeing it was pitch black outside the cab. “Huh?” he said looking over at his dad.

“I said we should’ve got our breakfast to go,” Joshua grinned.

Blinking and clearing the sleep from his eyes, William saw his thermal coffee mug in the center armrest. Grabbing it and flipping the top open, he glanced over at his dad. “I was finished in five minutes,” he said taking a tiny sip then smacked his lips from the scalding liquid.

“Just so you could go back to sleep,” Joshua laughed.

“So?” William said with a shrug. “I can’t drive the truck and I can put my time to better use.”

Reaching over, Joshua patted William’s leg. “You need more days off from school. Getting up at six is making you soft.”

Putting his mug back in the holder, William looked over at his dad. “Humph, my buddies can’t even get up at six regularly and when I go to work with you, I get up at two-thirty, when most are just going to bed.”

“That’s called being a man,” Joshua said as William stretched out.

William grinned and looked over at his dad. “Yeah and I’m here,” he said. “If I’m not working, I can sleep. Everyone in your crew does the same thing.”

Driving around a switchback, Joshua shook his head. There was a lot of snow on the ground but nowhere near what there should be for the middle of April. “I’m just messing with you, son,” Joshua said hoping the weather would hold till he got this job done. The contract with the Forestry Service clearly stated, ‘Job must be complete and site cleared before bare ground exposed’.

Hearing his dad’s voice change, William looked over. “I know you’re messing with me, Dad. I was just messing back with you,” he said. “Something wrong?”

“Snow’s melting too fast, contract says the job has to be done before it’s gone,” Joshua said, rounding another switchback with the massive mud grip tires on the truck throwing up snow as they dug down.

“Hey, the Forestry Service came to you, Dad. Nobody wanted this bid,” William scoffed. “You started the day after you took the contract, so they can deal with it.”

Spotting a deer up ahead in the headlights, Joshua slowed, making sure the deer wasn’t suicidal. For some reason, the last three deer he’d hit, they had charged right at his truck and he’d even had one run into the back of his truck. “It’s not that easy anymore, son,” Joshua mumbled as the deer turned and bounced up the mountain.

Speeding back up to a whopping fifteen miles an hour on the now snow-covered road, Joshua glanced again at William. He could remember sitting in that spot when his dad drove the truck to the logging site. Joshua had started logging with his dad when he could pull a choker and move fallen branches. Before he could even walk, Joshua’s dad had sat Joshua in his lap as he ran the loader. Forty-five now, Joshua and the rest of his crew were the last of the old-time loggers.

When his dad died, getting caught by a widow-maker tree, a tree top that was broken off and leaning against another tree, Joshua took over the family logging business at twenty-eight. It was one of the last small operations, and compared to the big logging companies and mills, they were tiny.

With only eight employees and himself, Joshua’s company took the small jobs that didn’t pay enough for the large companies to take. Like the contract he was doing now, it was only a hundred and fifty-eight acres but it was a selective cut, meaning only marked trees were to be taken. The site was in a small valley and ran up the sides of the mountains on each side. What made the job really suck, there were two small streams that met in the valley, almost in the middle of the contract area.

Each stream had a fifty foot ‘green’ area on either side that couldn’t be disturbed, and the only place you could cross was where the Forestry Service had marked. Logs had to be placed in the stream to drive over, then removed when the job was done. Joshua really didn’t have a problem with that, but he had seen another owner of a small operation several years ago bankrupted by the EPA for allowing a tree to fall in the stream.

“They keep adding rules to make the job harder,” Joshua finally said as William stared at the side of his face. “When I complete this contract with all the regulations, I’m barely coming out ahead.”

“I know, Dad,” William said, looking out the front window. He had been coming to jobs with his dad for several years but only in the last two, had his dad allowed him to work. Just in his short time there, William had noticed changes on how his dad and the crew logged. “You would think people would get pissed about paying stupid prices for lumber and tell the government to stop.”

“Why?” his dad shrugged. “We can import lumber cheaper than it can be cut here with all the rules. If they would relax them, we could bring lumber prices back down.”

Not knowing how to respond, William just sighed. “You aren’t going to have to lay off anyone, are you?”

Slowing down, Joshua turned to look at the worried expression on William’s face. “No, son,” he said, glad that his son understood to always treat your employees better than yourself. “That’s why I took this job before heading to the Olympic Peninsula in June. This was going to keep us afloat long enough to keep everyone’s paycheck rolling.” Many in Joshua’s crew had been with him for decades. He never had to advertise a job opening, men begged to be part of his small company. His newest employee was Alex, and Alex had been with the company for six years.

“So, the new equipment isn’t hurting us?” William asked.

“Whew,” Joshua moaned just thinking about that. The last few years had been tough on equipment for him. The dozer broke and the cost to repair it wasn’t worth it, so two years ago, he’d forked up the quarter of a million for a new John Deere Forestry Crawler. Which just meant that it was a dozer with a tough roll cage and big ass winch on the back, to pull logs off the side of steep hillsides. That same year, one of the semi’s he used to haul logs and equipment was hit by another big rig, totaling it out.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the truck had been hauling one of his two log skidders. A huge four-wheeled monster of a vehicle that had an articulating arm on the back with a grapple, to grab logs and pull them to the landing where the logs were loaded on trucks. Since the truck, the flatbed trailer, and the skidder were ten years old, the insurance hadn’t come close to paying what they were worth.

He did find a nice used semi which he beefed up with the crew, turning it into a log truck, but couldn’t find a nice used skidder. So, he bought a John Deere 948L, which cost two hundred grand. Then, his other skidder had been crushed last year in Canada by an old growth tree.

A job had come up in Canada harvesting old growth, trees circumferences that were measured in yards, not feet. Like any true logger, Joshua jumped at the chance. It was a subcontract, working for a large lumber company. It wasn’t one of his crew that had crushed the skidder; it’d been one of the newer generations of loggers that the old timers called ‘machine operators’. The new generation didn’t fall trees, they just cut them down. A logger falls trees, putting them where he wanted to. A machine operator cuts them down, not caring how they land.

Luckily, the skid operator had been helping to hook up a choker for the dozer when the machine operator had cut down a six-foot-diameter tree thirty yards away. Unfortunately, the tree was two hundred and forty feet tall and had crushed the skidder. Needless to say, Joshua had to visit the John Deere dealership again.

Ben, his foreman, had to be held down on the spot and his chainsaw taken away because he was going to kill the machine operator. Ben had worked for his dad and they had known each other all of their lives. Most of the crew was built lean and hard from the tough work. Not Ben, he looked like a muscle-bound cartoon character with a shaved head and red goatee that hung down to his chest.

Looking at William, Joshua smiled. “We’re making the payments and if we get picked up again for Canada this year, I should be able to get one close to being paid off.”

“I’m glad,” William said with relief. He looked at everyone on the crew like members of the family.

Topping a rise, Joshua pulled into the valley and over to the landing. “How about you run the loader until the crew arrives?” Joshua said turning the truck off.

“Really?” William cried out.

“You have to learn to run it by yourself someday,” Joshua said grabbing his mug. “Just don’t get in a rush and you’ll do fine.”

“All right!” William sang out pushing open his door.

Joshua grinned as he climbed out and opened the backdoor of the quad cab, grabbing his white hardhat and radio. He looked over to see William yank his backdoor open and grab his hardhat with a wide open smile. Grabbing his gloves, Joshua shut the door and headed over to the loader.

The loader looked like a big excavator but had a huge claw to grab logs instead of a bucket. With the exception of the other semi, it was the oldest piece of equipment at ten years old and hadn’t been paid off that long.

Walking over to the loader with William beside him, Joshua held the flashlight under his arm as he clipped the radio on his belt with the hand-held microphone clipped to his jacket and put the earpiece on his ear. After the episode of a skidder getting crushed, Joshua made everyone wear and carry a radio. He knew that his crew knew what they were doing, but he wanted them to be used to wearing it always when they worked around others.

The last few yards, William took off, throwing snow up, jumping on the tracks of the loader and opening the door with the cab light coming on. Climbing in, he sat in the chair and turned on the glow plugs. Joshua climbed up and stood on the track, grinning at William’s excitement.

“When you get this truck loaded, I’ll bring up the other one,” Joshua said nodding at the semi parked beside the loader. “Watch what you’re doing and I’m going to start the equipment up. First things first, we’ll have to extend the trailers, okay?”

“Okay, Dad,” William said almost vibrating. He had run the loader with his dad a lot, but never by himself. Seeing the plug light go off, William turned the key, firing up the big machine.

Closing the door, Joshua jumped off the track as William let the loader warm up. When William cut on the huge lights that were mounted on every side of the roof of the loader, the landing was bathed in light. Joshua turned off his flashlight and walked across the landing, the area where the logs were loaded up.

Climbing up on the first log truck with its trailer folded up like it was riding piggyback, Joshua started it up and got on the radio. “Okay Will, remember how I showed you last Saturday. Gently reach down with the grapple and grab the trailer strap.”

The arm of the loader slowly moved and William almost panted in anxiety as the boom lowered. He managed to grab the strap on the second try which did boost his confidence. “Pull back on both levers and pick up the trailer,” Joshua said over the radio.

As soon as the trailer cleared the bunks on the log truck, Joshua pulled forward and grabbed his microphone. “Okay, now gently lower the trailer.”

Once the trailer was on the ground, Joshua backed up to the trailer reach. Setting the brakes, he jumped out and hooked up the trailer. “Will, open the grapple and swing it around,” Joshua said, hooking up the air brake lines to the trailer and pulled the reach pin. “Good job son. Go ahead and start loading.”

Seeing the first logs coming, Joshua headed over to the skidder parked beside the Hahn Processor. Joshua frowned upon hearing his boots making a slushing sound and not a crisp squeak from snow.

“I only need ten days,” he murmured walking between the six feet tall, three feet wide tires. Using one of the massive paddle tire lugs like a step so he could get to the stairs, Joshua climbed up and opened the door. After waiting for the glow plugs to shut down, he cranked it up.

Leaving it running, he climbed out to see William loading the first of the logs on the trailer. Standing on the deck of the skidder, Joshua chuckled as he watched the loader’s arm move almost timidly, placing the forty-foot logs on the truck. As William placed the logs gently on the trailer, Joshua shut the skidder’s door and climbed down. “Need to tell him that he doesn’t need to be that gentle.”

After starting up the skidder, and dozer, Joshua headed over to the log truck that William was loading. Even though he would be finished by now, William was only halfway through. But to William’s defense, Joshua couldn’t recall ever seeing logs placed that neatly on a trailer.

Starting the other log truck and leaving it to warm up, Joshua ran back as William put the last load on, filling the trailer. Jumping in, Joshua moved the semi out of the way and moved the other over to be loaded. “Just like the last one, William,” Joshua said into the radio as he backed the second log truck up to the landing.

William was much surer of himself this time and was quicker as they readied the trailer to be loaded. When the trailer was ready, Joshua headed to the first log truck William had loaded. Climbing in, he turned and gave William a thumb up to start loading the second trailer. Pulling out of the loading area, Joshua stopped by the Hahn processor and started it up. Of everything on the site, the processor was by far the most expensive. Joshua had got this one used and still had spent almost half a million.

Heading over to the first trailer, Joshua pulled out the binder and wrappers and started binding down the load. As he was locking down the last binder, he noticed headlights shining over at the loading area. Turning around, he saw the other two company trucks pulling in and parking beside his truck.

All four doors opened on each truck and his crew stepped out. Lifting his arm and pulling the cuff of his glove down he saw it was fifteen till six. “One day, they’re going to be late,” he mumbled but didn’t really believe it. Joshua treated his employees well and they returned it.

As they pulled out gear, putting it on, Joshua finished wrapping the load down. “Hey William, throw me the load ticket book and paint on your right side,” Joshua called over the radio. William grabbed the items and opened the door and tossed them over to his dad.

Opening the book, Joshua sighed as he filled out a ticket for each load. Ripping off the tickets, he stapled them to the left rear bunk log, the long bottom log on the trailer, and painted the sale name and ticket number on it. Closing the ticket book, Joshua said a thankful prayer that he didn’t have to brand stamp each log on this sale.

When he was done, he headed toward the loader which was sitting idle now with the second trailer loaded. Glancing at the crew also heading to the loader, it wasn’t hard to notice which outline belonged to Ben. Ben was only five and a half feet tall but had eighteen-inch arms with a barrel chest and no neck.

When William climbed out of the loader, the crew let out whooping cheers. “The little boss is stepping up!” Ben yelled.

When William jumped down from the loader, Joshua laughed as the crew walked up and began patting William’s back. Gene, the oldest member of the crew and ten years’ senior to Joshua, grabbed William by the shoulder. “Turning into a logger, young man,” he said.

“Hell yeah,” Ben shouted. “Pull it out William, and drag it around in the snow like a real logger does.”

Shaking his head, Gene, the oldest, therefore the father of the crew, stepped up to Ben and spoke in a low voice. “You may be a badass kung fu fighter Ben, but he’s only thirteen for Christ sakes. Mind your manners, at least keeping it civil. If Sonya heard you talk to William like that, she’d snatch that red goatee off and hang it from her rear-view mirror.”

Lowering his head, “Yeah, sorry, William,” Ben mumbled. “Gene, it’s MMA; mixed martial arts, not kung fu.”

Loving the attention, William just grinned as Joshua held out his hand for everyone to quiet down. “Thanks guys,” William said looking around at the group.

“Alright guys, we need assholes and elbows. You can see the snow is slushing out, so we need to be done quickly,” Joshua said looking around as Ben reached over and patted William’s back.

“Boss,” Ben said taking off his blue hard hat and tying a bandana over his shaved head. “It’s Monday. We’ll be finished with timber by next Monday, and clean up by the end of next week.”

Nodding, Joshua looked around at everyone else wearing their orange hard hats. New Forestry regulations dictated owners, foremen and workers had to wear different colored hats for identification. Joshua thought it was to make a caste system. Everyone in his group could do any job on the site and all of them had CDL’s to drive the semis. “I know, but let’s not get slack-assed here and get done, so we can pull the equipment back to the shop before we head to Washington.”

“Hold on boss,” Ben said putting his hardhat back on. “I know little boss here only has today off from school and I don’t think he needs to set chokers. William set those chokers and they weigh almost as much as him. He helped run the dozer when we cut that road in before Christmas at our last job. I think it’s time for him to be foreman for the day.”

Ben took off William’s orange hardhat and put his own blue one on him. “I think he needs to run the site today.”

William looked at Ben with wide eyes as the rest of the crew agreed. “Son, you ready to step up?” Joshua asked.

“I don’t want to mess up Dad,” William said looking around, proud the guys thought that much of him.

Ben patted his back, “William, loggers don’t mess up,” he said. “If something goes wrong, the world messed up, we didn’t.”

Nodding but still afraid, William leaned over to Ben. “You will stay close, won’t you,” he whispered.

“Hell yeah,” Ben said turning to Joshua. “How about it, boss?”

Grinning, Joshua nodded. “Men, meet William, the foreman for today.” They all gave a cheer and William adjusted the blue helmet on his head. “What are assignments for today?”

“Um, well,” William said looking around with his face getting red, and it wasn’t from the chill in the air. “Gene, you’re on the Hahn. Donnie, Alex, and Chris, you’re cutting. Frank, you’re skidding. Kyle, and Robert, you’re on the log trucks. I’m on the crawler, and Ben, you’re setting chokers for me. Dad, you’re running the loader.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows, impressed with the assignments. Everyone could do any of it, but they always tried to rotate everyone and with William’s assignments, he had, but he’d also put everyone in their strongest area. “Sounds good,” Joshua said and everyone moved off, grabbing what they needed.

Since the loading was done, Joshua moved around the site helping until the trucks showed up again to be loaded. He had two trucks running logs to the mill just over fifty miles away, but the mill wanted logs so badly they were sending at least four of their own trucks a day. Joshua didn’t give a shit because he didn’t have to pay them and the mill wasn’t even taking it out of his price. Normally, the mills would be buried under in logs but lately, it was getting harder and harder to fill their yards. Now, they took timber wherever they could get it.

Joshua followed Ben and William uphill after nose-bag time to help pull the winchline up an extra steep slope. Looking back Joshua grinned, very pleased at how well William handled the dozer. Slowly, William backed it up the steep slope to where the winchline could be pulled to reach the turn of pre-set chokers. As they caught their breath from the hard pull, Ben turned and said, “You gotta be proud of your boy. Must be genetic.”

Before Joshua could answer, the radio went off. “Looks like we have company,” Frank called over the radio.

Joshua turned around and saw the Forestry Badge on the door of the SUV as it pulled to a stop. Grabbing the microphone on his chest, “Who the hell is that? It’s not Norman,” he called out running down the steep slope past William on the dozer.

“Hell, I’ve never seen any of the Forestry Rangers or supervisors around here driving an SUV. They drive pickup trucks,” Ben called back.

“I don’t know who they are,” Frank said as he dropped his load of logs at the landing. “There’re two of them.”

“Fuck!” Joshua shouted seeing his empty log trucks pull back in. Joshua eyed the large pile of logs sitting at the end of the Hahn, ‘it’s gonna be balls to the wall cleaning them up and loading out the round’, he thought grabbing his radio. “I’m loading, so keep an eye out for them,” he said trotting over to the loader as one of the log trucks pulled up to the loading area. As he climbed up on the loader, Joshua saw both of the Forestry men had on gun belts. “What the hell is the enforcement division out here for?”

The USDA Forestry service had its own law enforcement division and even its own SWAT teams. But for the life of him, Joshua couldn’t figure out why they would even need one SWAT team much less several. Knowing trucks had to be loaded, Joshua climbed in the loader and started loading his trucks.

When he started on the second truck, his radio went off again. “Another SUV,” Ben called out and Joshua glanced out of the loader to see another Forestry Service SUV park by the first. Shaking his head while looking at the man, Joshua didn’t know him but could tell by the badge and lapel, he was the regional forester for district one, the district they were in. The regional forester reported directly to the chief in Washington D.C. The fact that Joshua had never seen one in the field did make him a little nervous.

With two enforcement officers with the supervisor, Joshua was tempted to tell everyone to load up the equipment and head home. “Hey boss,” Ben called over the radio. “Is it my imagination or is that last one the regional forester?”

“Yep,” Joshua said as he continued loading the second truck.

“Hell, the only time I’ve seen a regional forester was on TV talking bullshit,” Ben called back. “The only time we dealt with enforcement was when those Echo terrorists shot at us in Washington State two years ago.”

“Well Ben, they wouldn’t have come to see us if you hadn’t taken the skidder down to their camp and run over their Prius,” Gene shouted back.

“Fuck you, they shot at us!” Ben bellowed and Joshua laughed remembering the event as he loaded the truck.

“Those pansy asses couldn’t even hit the bulldozer they were aiming at,” Gene shouted back.

“Yeah, but I hit their little car with that skidder, didn’t I?” Ben chortled.

“Ah, boss,” William came over the radio. “Um, they can’t come near the landing unless they have hardhats. You said nobody could ever.”

“I told you heathens he was an old time logger!” Ben shouted over the radio and Joshua laughed at Ben and was proud of William.

Joshua grabbed his microphone. “That’s correct foreman,” Joshua said as he finished loading the truck. Shutting down the loader, he climbed out to see the three men walking toward him. “Hold up gentlemen. This is a logging operation in a forestry service timber sale area and during operation, everyone must wear an OSHA-approved hardhat and logging boots.”

The three men stopped and looked at each other, talking quietly as Joshua continued toward them. Three years ago, he had been fined because his crew was sitting in the landing eating lunch and everyone had taken off their hardhats. That had cost him five hundred dollars for each person and another grand because Chris didn’t have his chainsaw chaps on and he was assigned to cutting. So after paying fifty-five hundred dollars for a regulation that he had never heard of, Joshua went and found it.

OSHA had passed a regulation on what had to be worn in a US Forest on a logging operation. What had surprised Joshua was that the Forestry Service or OSHA could fine someone who was cutting firewood if they didn’t wear the proper gear in a US Forest.

When Joshua stopped a few feet from them, the regional forester turned to him. “I’m Ronald Gifford, Northern Region forester,” he said but didn’t hold out his hand.

“Joshua Anderson,” Joshua said with a nod. Be damned if he was holding out his hand when Ronald didn’t. “How can I help you?”

“I’m just checking on my area,” Ronald said with a grin. “I have nine thousand employees under me with over twenty-five million acres of forest to look after, and want to make sure my officers and rangers are doing their jobs. So I came out here to inspect the sale area, just to make sure my forestry rangers are doing their jobs, of course.”

“That’s fine, Ronald,” Joshua said and Ronald raised his hand.

“I’m Ronald Gifford, region one forester,” he said with a scowl. “You may call me ‘Northern Regional Director, Region one Director, or Mr. Gifford. Are we clear, Joshua?”

Swallowing a dozen retorts, and all but one was very rude, Joshua nodded. “Crystal clear, Ronald.” Ronald sucked in a breath as his cheeks turned red. “Like I said, under your rules, nobody can come on this site without a hardhat and logging boots at the minimum.”

One of the officers turned to Ronald. “He’s right sir.” Joshua looked at the two officers and noticed that both were wearing captain bars on the shoulders of their jackets. “We have some in the rig,” he said walking away.

“You need to learn your place, gypo,” Ronald said glaring at him. Gypo was a derogatory name for independent loggers but was worn with pride by independent loggers.

“Ronald, I took this job because Charlie begged me to. In case you don’t know, Charlie Verner is the ranger over this district. Not one outfit put a bid in for this sale. Charlie came to me begging me to take it because there was some plan for this area,” Joshua said fighting to keep his voice even.

“I’m well aware Joshua,” Ronald said. “We are destroying the road, putting a hiking trail here and this area will be turned into a summer camping area on the Rocky Mountain Trail System.”

“Well, I’m happy for you then,” Joshua said as the other officer came back carrying three hardhats.

Ronald snatched one putting it on. “I have my hardhat.”

“Hey, it’s your rules, not mine. I was fined three years ago for it because we were eating lunch without our hardhats on,” Joshua said. “If you need me, you can find me by my white hardhat, from the rule you passed two years ago that owners must wear white hardhats.”

When he walked away, the three circled up whispering. “What the fuck is he talking about colored hardhats?” he heard Ronald whisper to the officers.

Grabbing his microphone, Joshua keyed it. “Forestry Service is inspecting the site so all vehicles, watch your ground. I don’t think any of these guys have ever been on a logging sale site.”

“Is that really the regional forester?” Ben asked.

Giving a long sigh, “Yes Ben,” Joshua answered. “Don’t ask anything else because I don’t know.”

Moving over, he helped strap down the trailers, then went to help set chokers. When the mill’s trucks showed up, Joshua loaded them up. As he was climbing out, he saw the three dorks measuring the heights of stumps. “I’m really getting tired of shit,” he mumbled.

At four o’clock, his trucks returned and Joshua almost grabbed his radio, but stopped himself and waited. It wasn’t long until William’s voice came over the radio. “Last trucks are back. All vehicles back to the landing for daily maintenance so we can go home.”

As the skidder and crawler pulled down the valley toward the landing, Joshua looked over at the dorks walking along one of the creeks. When he saw Ronald writing in a notebook, he turned to look at the two lowboy trailers he used to haul the equipment parked off to the side. Fighting the urge to tell the crew to hook up the trailers and load up, Joshua went to his truck.

The only reason he wasn’t leaving was because all forestry sales were laid out in contracts and those contracts had fines to be paid if you didn’t do the job the way it was laid out. If he didn’t have this job done before the snow melted, he was looking at a twenty-thousand-dollar fine. Dealing only with Charlie, Joshua wasn’t worried. Charlie would just tell him to finish the best he could. Unlike the dorks that had come onto the site, Charlie had grown up around here.

Climbing into his truck, Joshua pulled the contract out of the center console. The contract was over two inches thick, spelling out the job, and as his dad had told him long ago, ‘Son, always have the contracts with you on the site. Like every organization, the Forestry Service has assholes’. Here lately, that’s all Joshua was running into, case in point; the three he was looking at.

Flipping through the contract, Joshua found the penalty section. Doing quick math in his head, it would cost him half a million to walk off this job without sabotaging his own equipment. That was the only loophole he could find. Toying with the idea, Joshua gave up and dropped the contract on the seat.

Climbing back out, he saw the dorks looking at the equipment. Looking over, he saw William pulling out dipsticks, checking fluid levels with Ben standing beside him. “They raised my business tax to forty percent two years ago, you can only bleed a man so much,” Joshua mumbled heading toward the landing to help with maintenance.

As he walked over, he noticed the dorks making a beeline straight to him. Not wanting the others to hear, Joshua stopped and took several deep breaths. “Joshua, we have found twenty-six violations on this sale site and I’m sure if I keep looking, I’ll find more,” Ronald said with a wide grin.

“Be my guest,” Joshua said. “Do you want to release me from my bid? I can load up and head out right now.”

“No,” Ronald snapped, shaking the notebook at him. “You took the bid and you will fulfill it!”

“Are you ordering me to shut down as you inspect the site?”

“No, but I’m suggesting it,” Ronald said lowering the notebook.

Knowing if he was ordered to shut down for inspection, the contract’s time would be thrown out and he couldn’t be fined for not completing on time. “If you’re not ordering me to shut down, we’ll continue,” Joshua said glancing over at the crew, and now all of them were staring back.

“Fine, but we must address the violations,” Ronald said opening his notebook. “You cut down unmarked trees-,” Ronald stopped as Joshua cut him off.

“What are you talking about?”

Turning around Ronald pointed at a big stump. “That was an old growth-,” he stopped and looked at one of the captains.

“Northern white pine,” the captain offered.

“Yes, northern white pine. It wasn’t marked yet you cut it down along with-,” he looked at the captain again.

“Douglas fir.”

“Yes, along with a Douglas fir,” Ronald said turning back to Joshua.

Seeing the stump and the two next to it, Joshua shook his head. “Ronald, those two trees had trees tangled in the limbs. You know what those are called by loggers? Widowmakers. If you cut the smaller tree down that’s tied up in the branches, it doesn’t fall. When you cut down the big one with a smaller one leaning on it, you can’t control where either of them falls. That’s how my dad was killed. It’s clearly laid out in the contract; widow makers are safety violations and must be cut down.”

Ronald scoffed. “You can cut a tree with a chainsaw and make the end jump several yards out.”

Joshua stepped back in complete shock that someone would say something so stupid. “I’ll get my chainsaw for you and you can show me just how in the hell you can make a tree jump several yards off the stump.”

“This is your sale site. I’m not going to show you anything,” Ronald snapped.

“What I thought, you’ve never touched a chainsaw,” Joshua said. “If you want, I can get my contract, I was just looking at it. For safety reasons, unmarked trees can be cut down without penalty, and I know my cutters took pictures before cutting those trees down just because they were unmarked and old growth.”

“We’ll come back to that,” Ronald said opening his notebook. “We found several stumps above the required thirty-centimeter height.”

“Like hell,” Joshua snapped. “Not taking as much of the base as we can costs us money.”

Ronald pointed behind him. “There is one right there,” he grinned. “That one, if I remember correctly, was ninety centimeters.”

Spinning around, it didn’t take long to spot the stump. “That tree grew out of a vertical rock wall, that’s the only place we could’ve cut it, hell your marking even marked it at the cut line,” Joshua shouted, turning back around.

“Don’t yell at me,” Ronald snapped.

“Listen, boy,” Joshua said lowering his voice to a growl. “I’m not one of your employees or your kid and you don’t even come close to impressing me so don’t snap at me, Ronald.”

One of the captains stepped up. “You will address him with respect. We are with the enforcement division and will arrest you.”

“I got a lawyer. Go right ahead,” Joshua said calmly. “So, do you want me to shut down while you investigate?”

“No, I’m advising it,” Ronald said opening his notebook back up.

Fighting the urge to beat Ronald to death with his notebook, Joshua took a deep breath. “Then like I said, we’ll be here until the job is done.”

“We found three ‘green’ zone infractions,” Ronald said looking up.

Giving a long sigh, “I don’t care,” Joshua moaned. “Shut me down or leave us alone. I will be filing a complaint because you are endangering my employees.”

“That’s fine, I’ll file it away,” Ronald grinned closing his notebook. “You had an underage employee on the site, so I will be forced to notify the Department of Labor and the EPA about your ‘green’ zone violations.”

Spinning around and walking away. “Fine, just tell them to wear a hardhat and logging boots before they come,” Joshua said fighting to stay calm.

When he stopped at the crew, they were all looking from him back to the three walking to the SUVs. “Boss,” Ben said, watching the three climb in their vehicles. “Charlie still lives down the road from me, I’m stopping by and kicking his ass.”

Shaking his head, Joshua reached out and grabbed William by the shoulder. “Forget it, guys, we’ve been fucked with before,” he said and grinned at his son. “We need to take our foreman for the day to supper. I’m buying.”

Everyone cheered and grabbed their gear, heading to the trucks. “Dad, is it going to be okay?” William asked after he climbed in the truck.

“Hope so son, but they can only bleed a man so much before he has nothing left. Then he’s like a mean bear; don’t poke him or you’re liable to get hurt bad.”

Chapter Two

Beep, beep, beep, sounded and Joshua reached over tapping the alarm clock. Sitting up in bed, he rubbed his eyes and brushed down his beard. He looked over at his wife, Sonya, sound asleep. Sonya was his second wife. His first wife, Mary, William’s mother, died of an aneurysm when William was five.

Leaning over, he kissed Sonya on the cheek as she reached up patting his head, “Your beard tickles,” she mumbled and immediately fell back asleep.

Getting out of bed, Joshua looked at the clock as he dressed. “I wonder what it’s like, going for a long time without having to wake up in the early morning hours?” he asked himself. Putting his boots on, he grabbed his Springfield 1911 off the bedside table and slid the clip-on holster over his belt. He had a concealed permit and carried the pistol most of the time. About the only time he didn’t, was when he was working. A pistol on your hip grabbed all kinds of shit, and working on very steep slopes, that could be deadly.

But even on some jobs, he’d carried it on him. Like when the Eco-furry-animal-lover terrorists were protesting, taking pop shots at them or sabotaging their equipment or work-site. Or when he worked in Alaska or Canada, bears could be a problem, be damned what the environmentalists say. In Alaska one year, he cut down a tree and turned around to spot a grizzly twenty yards away creeping closer. He’d pulled his pistol and shot the ground in front of it. He really didn’t want to shoot something with teeth that weighed just shy of a ton with a tiny .45 caliber bullet.

A .45 was massive to stop a man but could be compared to a spitball for stopping a grizzly. One of the machine operators that night, who was working with a company on that site had asked why Joshua was scared, he had a massive 3120 Husqvarna 118 cc chainsaw with a 42-inch blade.

Joshua had turned to the guy, “Son, a man several years ago, thought the same thing as a grizzly charged him. He raised his chainsaw gunning the engine and swung as the bear closed. His buddies came up an hour later, finding the bear eating the man. They shot it with a rifle and found a chainsaw clogged up with hair that choked it out. The blade never even made it to the bear’s skin.”

Grabbing his spare magazines, Joshua clipped them on his left side. Walking out of the bedroom, he glanced back at Sonya to see her snuggled up in the blankets. He smiled at her, thankful she’d come into his life. Even though she was William’s stepmom, she doted on William, and William loved her to death. Walking down the hall, he passed William’s room and eased in to see William sprawled over the bed with the covers kicked off. He patted William’s chest and picked the covers off the floor, covering him back up.

Walking in the kitchen, he smelled the coffee from the automatic coffee maker. “Sometimes technology is alright,” he said grabbing his mug. As he fixed his coffee, Joshua looked at the pictures hanging out in the hall. One was of him, Sonya and William up at the cabin.

The cabin was built by his great uncle and was about six miles from Nordman, Idaho. It sat on twenty acres, not even two miles from the Washington State border, and Joshua tried to get there every chance he could, which was several times a month at least.

William would always go with him if he didn’t have school and Sonya went too, but didn’t really like the rustic setting. The cabin had power from solar panels and running water, but that was pretty much it. Well, not really after last year. Somehow, William had rigged a cellphone up to a booster, and now the cabin had internet.

Joshua used to hate computers, but his boy had changed that for the most part. Walking across the kitchen, Joshua smiled as he opened up his laptop to look at the alternate news sites. Scanning the headlines as he sipped his coffee, Joshua shook his head. “Wish I had enough money to buy a politician,” he chuckled, reading how foreign parties paid millions to politicians.

Seeing his beloved country sliding further downhill, Joshua closed his laptop and grabbed his Kindle. Joshua loved to read, and now that he could buy books electronically and they didn’t take up space in the house, he’d gone wild. He literally had thousands of eBooks and hundreds of regular books.

Grabbing his coat and tucking it under his arm, Joshua grabbed his keys and lunch box walking out. Every night, Sonya made his lunch and fixed the coffee pot for him, and Joshua believed she needed a spot in heaven for that alone. Seeing a person standing next to his truck, Joshua grabbed the butt of his pistol. “Whoa Boss, it’s me,” Ben said holding up his hands.

Feeling his heart vibrating in his chest, Joshua fought to keep his legs from giving out. “I should shoot your ass just for scaring the shit out of me like that,” Joshua said walking over to the truck. The house sat on ten acres just outside of the small community of Lamb Creek off of Priest Lake. There was a small pasture and on the other side of the pasture was a large metal shop that Joshua ran the logging company out of.

“Sorry Boss,” Ben said lowering his hands.

“What the hell are you doing here? Your schedule only changes when I’m sick and that’s been what, six times in seventeen years?”

“I’m riding in with you. We need to talk,” Ben said stepping around to the passenger side. “I told Gene to drive my truck in.”

Hitting his key fob to make the truck start and doors unlock, Joshua nodded. The other company trucks that his crew used were at the shop. The crew drove to the shop, then took the company trucks to the site. “What the hell is so important that you got up before me?” Joshua asked tossing his coat in the backseat as he climbed in.

Ben climbed in and grabbed his seat belt. “Charlie was called to the main office in Missoula. He has to go there today.”

Shaking his head, Joshua turned to Ben. “Did you go over there and whoop his ass after I told you not to?”

“No,” Ben scoffed and saw Joshua just staring at him not believing it. “Well, I was going to, but Charlie basically laid down on the ground crying when I got out of my truck. I just didn’t have the heart to stomp his ass with him acting like that.”

Turning in his seat and grabbing the steering wheel, Joshua backed out of the driveway. “Ben, you’re not fighting MMA anymore, so you need to chill with the fighting. Bail is starting to get expensive,” Joshua said pulling out on the street.

“You’ve only bailed me out like four times,” Ben said waving his hand. “And I’ve always paid you back.”

As he drove, Joshua counted in his mind each time he’d had bailed Ben out of jail for beating the shit out of someone and more than once, it was several ‘someones’ at the same time. One thing that could be said, Ben could fight and wasn’t scared to do it. Pulling into a gas station that served breakfast, Joshua parked. “Since high school, I counted twenty-two times I’ve bailed you out of jail for fighting, and one for taking a man’s gun away from him and shoving the barrel in his ass.”

“The motherfucker was divorced from the bitch,” Ben snapped as Joshua climbed out. “You don’t come to my house and pull a gun out because I’m banging your ex. The fucker is lucky I didn’t shoot his ass.”

Joshua pointed to Ben’s hip at the bulge under his coat. “You aren’t supposed to have a gun, Ben.” Like Joshua, Ben carried a gun, believing the old adage, ‘it’s better to be judged by twelve than carried by six’.

“You know all but two of those charges were dropped and I’ve never had a felony conviction. It was knocked down to a misdemeanor.”

Not in the mood for Ben’s logic, Joshua headed inside to grab premade sausage, egg and cheese biscuits. Climbing back in the truck, Joshua tossed the bag to Ben. “So, you wanted to tell me that Charlie got called to the regional Forestry office today?” Joshua said pulling out on the highway.

“Yeah, but Charlie thinks he’s going to be fired today,” Ben said passing a biscuit to Joshua. “Charlie said this Ronald guy wants to be moved higher in other branches of government and wants to make a name for himself.”

“Asshole is a good name for him,” Joshua said unwrapping his biscuit as he pulled off the highway onto a dirt road heading up to the mountains.

“Uh, Josh?” Ben said in a nervous voice glancing over at him. “Charlie said we need to really consider sabotaging our equipment on-site to get out of the contract.”

Having known Ben all his life and considered Ben his best friend, Joshua slowed down hearing Ben’s voice quiver. “Come again,” Josh said turning to look at him.

“Charlie said we may want to sabotage our equipment to get out of the contract.”

“Ben!” Joshua shouted slamming on the brakes. “You know most of that equipment is new, you were with me when I bought it. You’re talking about breaking almost two million dollars in heavy equipment and need I remind you, insurance doesn’t cover logging equipment in a national forest, thanks to the last administration that was in the White House. You have to wait for the cops to find who did it and sue them. If we did it, I’d have to eat it.”

With a flat expression, Ben turned away and looked out the front window at the dirt road in the headlights. “I talked to the guys. We can take a few months without pay to fix the equipment.”

Shaking his head, Joshua opened the center console and pulled out the contract, holding it out for Ben. “That’s nice, but that wouldn’t cover anything,” he said dropping the contract in Ben’s lap. “Go ahead and read it. Eighty percent of your operating heavy equipment has to be damaged to fifty percent of value. So that means, of the two log trucks, skidder, crawler, Hahn processor and loader; five would have to be damaged fifty percent of value. You’re talking well over a million dollars, Ben. Last I checked, and I’m the one who writes the checks, you and the crew don’t make near that much in a few months.”

“Josh,” Ben said turning to look at him. “Charlie said that Ronald went after a large logging company in Washington. They ended up having to do their sale site for free, then pay several million in bullshit fines. Ronald never went after the small outfits like ours because we don’t have a lot of money to pay fines, but with the attention he got in D.C. from that large company, he wants to take what any company has. Bringing in that kind of money for the government makes a big name for him.”

Reaching over and putting the truck in park, Joshua threw up his hands. “Whoa, let me get this straight. Ronald Gifford is bankrupting businesses by fining them, getting money for the government, and putting people out of work, so the government has to support them. Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what Charlie said, and I believe him,” Ben said with a straight face. “America is the only country that punishes businesses so hard they bankrupt them, the same businesses that provide jobs supporting the economy. Unless you are a massive business that can buy protection from a politician like you’re paying the mafia.”

Turning around and grabbing the shifter, Joshua put the truck in drive. “Ben, all that new equipment almost bankrupted me. If it’s hurt, the company is dead, and I’m going under.”

Ben just stared out the window as Joshua drove down the dirt road up into the mountains. “I know, but maybe we can break the stuff so it doesn’t really cost that much,” he offered, but he knew it was hopeless.

“Let’s just bust our asses and get this job done,” Joshua said.

“I’m all for that,” Ben said. “To be honest, I don’t want to log in Washington this summer. How about we just go to Alaska and Canada?”

Seeing the snow line start up ahead, Joshua pushed the 4x4 button. “If we get picked up for Canada, we can do that.”

They drove in silence until they reached the mountaintop valley that the job site sat in. Ben finally unwrapped a biscuit and looked over at Joshua with a grin. “William did a great job yesterday, didn’t he?”

“He sure did,” Joshua said grabbing his mug. Ben didn’t have kids and had never been married. He had fallen in love with many women and like his fights, sometimes more than one woman at the same time. Ben just didn’t stay in love for very long. Some of the others on the crew had kids, but no boys as old as William came to the logging sites.

“You load and I’ll get the vehicles warmed up,” Ben said climbing out and grabbing his gear.

After grabbing his own gear, Joshua walked over to the loader, shining the flashlight around on the wet snow. “If they leave me alone, we can be done next week,” he said and climbed up on the loader.

Before Ben had the skidder and crawler cranked up, Joshua was finished with the first truck. Leaving the loader running, he climbed out to see Ben climbing in the log truck, hauling the trailer he’d just loaded. Heading over to the other log truck, Joshua looked around as the lights from all of the vehicles lit up the area, and was certain they would be done by next week.

Unless a strong warm front moved in, they shouldn’t have any problems. The site was at fifty-eight hundred feet and the snow was still over a foot deep where the equipment hadn’t been, and the ground had refrozen overnight.

When Ben pulled the loaded truck out of the way, Joshua pulled into the loading area and jumped out. Landing hard, he grunted and bellowed out a puff of fog in the cold air. “I remember when I could jump off the roof of a skidder and that didn’t hurt my knees,” he grumbled heading back to the loader.

Loading the second trailer, Joshua glanced over to see Ben strapping down the first trailer. “It’s not so bad having help in the morning,” he said with a nod. When the trailer was loaded, Ben came over and they strapped the loaded logs down.

“Remember when we could only put two or three logs on a truck because they were so big?” Ben laughed locking down a chain.

“Shit, I remember when I was a kid, putting one log on a trailer for a load. Heads up,” Joshua said tossing a chain over the trailer.

With the trailers loaded, Joshua looked at his watch and saw they had over an hour until the crew showed up. “Let’s eat the rest of the biscuits and drink some coffee before the crew shows up,” he said as Ben walked around the trailer.

“Fine by me, Boss,” Ben said bellowing fog out. “We should be completely done next week. The thermometer in the crawler said it was twenty degrees.”

Joshua spun on his heel heading toward his truck. “Ben, don’t go jinxing us,” he said. “You can’t say it out loud.”

Breaking into a trot, Ben ran up beside Joshua and fell in step with him. “You mind if I make the first run to the mill and then I’ll get back to working the site?”

“No, but why?”

“I want to ask the foreman at the mill if they could spare a few more trucks to haul for us,” Ben said looking at the stack of logs. Even after loading both trucks, Joshua hadn’t made a dent.

“Ben, they’re paying for those other two trucks running, I’m not. I’ve never heard of a mill so desperate for timber, they used their own trucks and aren’t charging me for mileage. Believe me, if they weren’t paying for those two trucks, all we would be running is our own. The company is strapped, if I’m going to continue paying the crew weekly until our next job.”

They walked on in silence until they reached the truck and climbed back inside and Ben looked over at him. “I know, me and the boys talked it over and we’re going to pay for two more trucks,” Ben said, shocking Joshua. “With six trucks running, we can have the logs out of here by the end of the week and start on clean up.” Ben didn’t want to tell Joshua that he was going to ask for more than two trucks.

“You know how much that is going to cost?”

Nodding, Ben answered, “About two grand a day.”

“You do realize it’s Tuesday,” Joshua said grabbing a biscuit. “Not saying that’s not a good idea, but you’re talking about ten grand and I can’t pay any of you back until winter.”

“Gene called his sister at the bank and filled out for a loan for all of us. She brought the paperwork out to his house last night, and we all went over and signed it. Josh, with just four trucks running, we won’t get the cut logs cleared out till the end of next week.”

“Shit, if it was just our trucks, it would be the week after,” Joshua said trying to figure out how to pay the guys back before winter.

Grabbing his coffee, Ben looked away. “All of us still have half of our New Year’s bonus. So we don’t have to borrow that much.”

“How in the hell have you hung on to seven grand for four months?” Joshua said choking on his food. “Money burns a hole in your pocket faster than William’s.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Ben snorted, “Just been puttering around the house when I’m not working for you.”

In shock, Joshua stared as his buddy. “It’s getting that serious between you and Barbara?”

“Whoa now, hold on,” Ben said throwing up a hand. “It’s not serious. She’s just nice to be around.”

“Ben, I’ve known you your entire life, and you’ve never dated a woman for more than six months straight with the exception of Penny, and that was seventh grade. I thought you were breaking up with Barbara before Valentine’s Day,” Joshua said and started counting up how long that made and realized that it was a record for Ben.

“Well, ah, she moved in three weeks ago,” Ben mumbled.

Blown away, Joshua’s body went numb, dropping his food and coffee mug. Luckily, the coffee mug’s spill proof top was closed. “She’s got a kid,” Joshua mumbled.

“Yeah, Sammy is great,” Ben smiled. “I turned the guest room into his bedroom.”

Stunned to the core, Joshua just blinked. Yeah, Ben had other women ‘stay’ at his house, but never had he said one ‘moved in’ and never with a kid. “Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?” he finally said then his body jerked. “You were over for supper last week and didn’t even bring her?”

“Hey, I’m adjusting here, so don’t go spazzing out on me,” Ben said shoving his mouth full of food.

“Sonya’s going to kick your ass,” Joshua said reaching to the floorboard for his mug.

Swallowing the mouthful, Ben took a sip of coffee. “Hey, you tell your wife she can chew on your ass, not mine.”

“Sonya chews your ass out every time she sees you. Mostly for running around acting like a male whore and sleeping with anything that had a crack between her legs,” Joshua said wiping dirt off of the top of his mug. “I’ll probably have to take her to the hospital when I tell her.”

“Well, don’t tell the guys yet,” Ben said. “I want to give it a few more weeks at least before I tell anyone else. You know, in case I fuck it up.”

Nodding, Joshua reached over patting Ben’s arm, “Happy for you, brother.”

“I don’t know if I’m happy or not. More like scared of a tiny woman with the name, Barbara,” Ben groaned as headlights entered the valley. “Guys are here, let’s get this shit done.”

Glancing out his window as Ben opened his door, “I’ll try to pay you guys back when the mill pays me for this job,” Joshua said opening his door.

“Nope,” Ben said getting out. “You’ve always been there for us. This is our gift to you.” After he got out Joshua turned, looking through the cab at Ben standing on the other side of the truck holding his door open. “Besides, the only way we can keep our great jobs is to make sure you keep the business.”

They shut their doors as the other two trucks pulled up and shut down. Joshua shook his head, seeing both trucks had trailers with track steers on them that they used to clean up a site. Gene got out of the first truck wearing a huge grin. “Got it,” he said looking at Ben.

“I told him,” Ben said walking over and the others got out. Gene gave Ben a glare. “Hey old man, don’t start, I had to tell him so I could drive the first load in, or he’d do something stupid like mortgage something.”

“Thanks guys,” Joshua said walking around and shaking the other guys’ hands.

“Joshua,” Gene said as he stepped over and shook his hand. “You’re the kind of boss a worker dreams of working for. You’re always fair and think of us first, not the money. I thought working for your dad was awesome and that he was the best, but I have to say, you outdo him.”

Ben put his hardhat on, “Okay ladies, if you’re going to kiss, keep the tongue minimal, we are on a job site.”

“Your foreman leaves a lot to be desired,” Gene said letting Joshua’s hand go, looking over at Ben.

Pulling on his gloves, Joshua nodded. “I grew up with him, so I’m used to him.”

“Josh, I’ve known both of you since you started logging with us when you turned fifteen, and I still want to beat the shit out of Ben,” Gene said with a scowl that turned into a grin. “Should’ve done it when he was a scrawny little shit. Now he’s so muscle bound, we should feed his big ass some hay.”

“You had your chance, old man,” Ben snorted with a bellow of fog. “Gene, you stay on the Hahn since you’re the best at it,” Ben said and then turned, giving each person their job for the day. “Guys, I want some serious assholes and elbows so we can get off this site.”

“I’m for coming out this weekend and just working through,” Chris said and everyone else nodded.

“Guys, I can’t afford the overtime,” Joshua said with a sigh.

“Well, you sit your ass at home and we’ll come out here,” Chris said putting on his hardhat. “If the work is done and you’re not present, it’s not overtime; it’s magic.”

“They teach you that shit in the army?” Ben laughed.

“Hell no, they taught me to hurry up and wait, along with complete the impossible with nothing,” Chris said walking away.

With Chris and Ben climbing in the log trucks, everyone headed off to their jobs. Keying his radio, Joshua watched the log trucks start to roll off. “Ben, for God’s sake, make sure you punch the right tab on the load board and make sure you have on your safety vest and hardhat. I don’t need any more hassles,” Joshua said, then added, “And please don’t get in a fight with anyone.” Letting the microphone go, Joshua grabbed his chainsaw out of the back of the truck and balanced it on his shoulder with the thirty-inch blade sticking out in front of him and motor behind his shoulder. Holding the blade, he headed off with the cutters, or fallers, to fall or cut some trees down.

The sun had just come over the mountains when the mill’s log trucks showed up and Joshua went and loaded them up. When the second truck was loaded, he looked out at the massive stacked pile of logs waiting to be loaded up. They had only started hauling loads to the mill last Thursday. On any other operation, the trucks would’ve started running as soon as the skidding; or pulling logs to the landing or loading area. But this job was a little bigger and with a shorter time constraint than Joshua normally took with just his crew.

So he’d used everyone for a week straight on the site and that’s why there was a massive pile of logs. The only reason he had even started sending his trucks Thursday was the mill had called him last Wednesday night begging for logs. That’s why on Thursday, he’d started sending trucks to the mill because they said they were sending two to start bringing in the logs.

Jumping down, he headed up the valley to continue to fall trees until he saw Donnie setting down his chainsaw as Kyle backed the crawler up the slope. Seeing Donnie grab some chokers, Joshua headed over. “Donnie, continue cutting. I’ll help Kyle skid.”

Grabbing the chokers which were just heavy ass cables used to wrap around a log so it could be pulled, Joshua headed up the steep slope. Reaching the first tree, he dropped the cables, still holding on to one as he panted. “Shit, I remember when that was nothing,” he panted, wrapping the cable around the tree and putting one end through the bell that would tighten up around the tree when it was pulled.

After hooking up six trees, he turned around to hear Kyle cussing. Kyle was coming up the slope and dragging the end of the cable to the massive winch on the back of the crawler. “I was coming to get that,” Joshua said holding out his hands.

“What? You just want me to sit in the crawler when the boss is dragging chokers up the mountain?” Kyle cried out handing the winch cable over. “The crew would hound my ass for years.”

Hooking the cable to the choker, Joshua shook his head. “I swear, sometimes you guys are worse than kids,” he said and walked down the slope, hooking the other chokers to the cable.

Trotting down the slope, Kyle yelled out. “If we were my kids, I would put us up for adoption!”

“No one would take you!” Joshua yelled back and moved away. When Kyle climbed in the crawler, he hit the massive winch and it started pulling the pile of logs down the slope. As the logs left, Joshua looked at all the tree limbs that had to be gathered and piled up. “That is going to take a while.”

It was just before nine when Ben called him on the radio. “Hey Boss, almost to the valley. Frank, bring your skidder down so we can swap off and you drive the truck.”

“You get more trucks?” Gene called back as Joshua headed for the landing.

“Yep, four more. Boss is going to have to keep his ass in the loader all day every day until we are finished,” Ben called back.

When Joshua reached the loader, the log trucks entered the valley. He climbed in as they pulled up and started loading them. Frank climbed in the first truck after it was loaded and pulled away to strap down the load as the other truck pulled up. Ben climbed up and opened the door to the loader.

“Talked to Andy at the mill, and he approved for us to hire four of their drivers,” Ben grinned. “Andy said if we could handle it, he would pull in another truck or two ‘on the mill’.”

“Damn, he wasn’t kidding when he said they wanted logs,” Joshua said as Ben stepped in and closed the door behind him while Joshua started loading.

“Boss, they are literally unloading the logs and running them in the mill. Their stockpile yard is empty.”

“Well, let’s get the man some logs,” Joshua said dropping some on the trailer.

Having to lean over to fit inside the cab, Ben just grinned. “This will be Frank and Robert’s last run. Andy said he was replacing them with his drivers so they could log, and if we could handle it, he would bring in two more trucks. That way, we’re paying for four trucks and the mill’s paying for four trucks, but would go to six when I told him how big the log pile was.”

“Ten trucks are too many,” Joshua said dropping the last load filling the trailer.

“Yeah, that’s what I told Andy, but he said he was willing to bring in two more if needed.” As the truck pulled away, Ben opened the door and two more trucks pulled in the valley. “Yep, time for assholes and elbows!” Ben said jumping down and running to the skidder Frank had been using.

When the two trucks pulled around, Joshua sighed. “We just might get out of this.”

After loading the two trucks, Joshua grinned on seeing two more pull in. In a continuing cycle, he would load two and two more would pull in. Frank and Robert were back before ten, parked the log trucks and ran to the pickup truck, grabbing chainsaws before heading up the valley.

With the entire crew busting ass dragging in logs, Joshua wasn’t seeing the massive pile get smaller, but it wasn’t getting bigger either. At lunch, they didn’t stop. Those driving equipment, ate as they drove and those who weren’t, grabbed their food and ate it as they walked back up the valley.

Feeling his bladder about to burst, Joshua shoved the last of his sandwich in his mouth and stepped out on the track, waving at the driver of the truck he was loading. After zipping back up, Joshua turned to see the driver laughing. “I held it for three hours,” Joshua said climbing back in the loader.

Dropping in the seat, he saw one of the track steers rolling past, heading up the valley. “Don’t break the track steer pulling logs,” he called over the radio then started loading again.

“I have Alex on it to start clean up,” Ben called back. “I think before lunch tomorrow, all marked trees will be down. Alex is better on the track steer for cleanup than he is on a saw.”

“Suck my dick hulk,” Alex shouted over the radio.

Joshua laughed as the two bantered back and forth, but nobody stopped working. It was three o’clock when the driver of the truck he was loading pointed down the valley. Glancing at the mirror expecting to see more log trucks, Joshua groaned on seeing a gray SUV with an emblem on the driver’s door. “Fuck!” he screamed, kicking the floor of the loader.

“Ben, come run the loader while I see who the fuck is here now!” he yelled into his radio.

“They’re back?”

Kicking open the loader’s door, Joshua grabbed his radio. “I don’t know who it is, but I see an official decal.”

“Alex, meet me at the landing and take over my skidder while the boss figures out who’s here,” Ben called out.

Grumbling as the SUV parked beside their trucks, Joshua watched two men get out. One was dressed in outdoor clothes with good boots, all of which looked new, while the other had on a suit and expensive long coat with rubber boots. Both men reached inside the SUV, pulling out hardhats.

When the driver shut the door and Joshua saw a gun belt, he groaned seeing United States Environmental Protection Agency written on the door emblem. “How can I help you?” he said, stopping a few feet from the driver as the passenger walked around the SUV. Even with the long tan overcoat, Joshua could see the man was armed.

“Hi, I’m Agent Boyd Weber with the EPA,” the driver said holding out his hand and Joshua shook it. “This is Agent Garret King with the Office of the Inspector General at the Department of Labor.”

“Department of Labor? We don’t have any labor disputes in my company,” Joshua said as Garret came to a stop beside Boyd.

“Are you,” Garret paused looking at a small notepad, “Joshua Anderson?”

“Yes,” Joshua said with a sigh.

“We received reports that minors were working on your site,” Garret said reaching in his coat and pulling out an ink pen.

“My son was out here yesterday. He didn’t have school and wanted to come to work with me,” Joshua said.

“How old is your son?” Garret asked holding his pen over the notepad.

“Thirteen.”

As Garret started writing he grunted, “Any other kids working?”

“No, and the state of Idaho says that kids can work in the parent’s agriculture business.”

“Not on Federal land,” Garret said. “Exploitation of child labor, family or not is a big deal.”

“Exploitation!” Joshua shouted making Garret look up. “He was working with his dad on a job site, I wasn’t teaching him how to make drugs.”

“It’s the law,” Garret said and continued writing.

With a long sigh, Joshua turned to Boyd. “So, are you here to tell me that we are killing some endangered field mouse with fleas that are almost extinct? On a site, the Forestry Service begged me to take.”

“No,” Boyd chuckled, “Got a report of encroachments of the green area along the creeks.”

“Whatever,” Joshua said throwing up his hands. “Are you ordering me to shut down?”

“Ah, no,” Boyd said looking over at Garret.

“I’m not here to shut you down,” Garret said glancing up. “If this is processed, all you’ll get is a fine.”

As two more trucks pulled into the valley, Joshua looked at the two. “Do you need me to walk you around the site or can I get back to work?”

“No, if I find something, I’ll get you,” Boyd said then moved to the back door of the SUV.

“You can see we have a lot of equipment moving, trying to get this done before the snow melts, so keep an eye out,” he said spinning around. “I can guarantee you, I’ll never take another job to help out the Forestry Service in my life.”

Pulling out a backpack, Boyd looked up at Joshua who was walking away. “Mr. Anderson, we are just following up on reports,” he said and Joshua didn’t say anything as he continued walking away.

Flipping his notepad closed, Garret walked back to Boyd. “I don’t know who he pissed off, but they want his ass,” Garret said as Boyd pulled on the backpack.

“The regional forester,” Boyd said tightening the straps of his pack. “This is bullshit.”

Nodding, Garret turned around and watched the trucks pull over to get loaded up. “Not going to argue that, but I got a call from D.C. to get my ass out here,” he said then glanced over at Boyd. “Thanks for the ride, my car wouldn’t have made it.”

“Well, now you have to see what I do,” Boyd said closing the back door of the SUV. “I got a call from the regional office and was told to make sure no violations were at the site.”

“Think you’ll find some?”

Boyd nodded, “I have pictures of some already that someone took yesterday, so I have to make sure there are no more,” he said and started walking off. “I was told, I’d better find more or they would send in another agent and if they found some, I’d be looking for another job.”

“Yeah, about what I was told,” Garret said following.

Mad enough to eat nails and shit thumbtacks, Joshua waved at Ben to swap out. When Ben had the trailer loaded, he climbed out and saw the monumental pissed-off face on Joshua. “What are they here for?”

“To fuck with us,” Joshua snapped jumping up on the track. “One is EPA, the other is Department of Labor because William was working here yesterday.”

“In Idaho, a nine-year-old can go to work in a family business,” Ben said as Joshua almost ripped the door off the loader.

“Not in a federal fucking forest!” Joshua shouted climbing in and slamming the door.

“We need off this job bad,” Ben said walking to the track steer.

In the loader, Joshua continued loading trucks as the crew kept hauling logs in. It was after five when one of the truck drivers came over and told Joshua that they were the last for the day, but the first ones would be back at six tomorrow morning.

After loading the last two trucks, he called over the radio. “Last trucks are out. Let’s do the daily maintenance and head home.”

“Boss, we have another half hour of light, you do the loader and head home. We’ll do the rest,” Ben called back.

Lifting up the microphone, Joshua stopped when he saw Boyd and Garret waving at him near the creek. Jumping down, Joshua felt his blood pressure rising.

“Sorry Joshua, but I found several encroachments in the green zone on both creeks and at the crossings,” Boyd said as Joshua walked up.

“Bullshit,” Joshua snapped.

Boyd pointed and Joshua could see it was where a skidder had turned around. “That broke the fifty feet from the stream edge,” Boyd said holding up a rolling tape measure.

Grabbing the tape measure, Joshua shoved the spike in the ground and rolled it out to the stream. He stopped and looked down at the reading. “Forty-eight feet from the stream, are you fucking kidding me? Those tires on the skidder are three feet wide.”

“It’s inside the fifty feet green zone,” Boyd said with a sigh. “And I’m sorry to say, it’s not the only one. I’ve marked eight more.”

Tempted to throw the tape measure in the ice-covered stream, Joshua stopped and rolled it up. “Find any other bullshit?”

“Yes,” Boyd said walking away. Carrying the tape measure Joshua followed, trying to calm his breathing. Boyd stopped where they had logs in the stream so the equipment could cross. “These logs are too long and equipment has rolled over the banks.”

Joshua looked down at the corner of one of the logs and saw where about a foot of the bank had a track mark from the crawler. Looking at it, Joshua knew that had come from the crawler putting the log bridge in. “That doesn’t even touch the water,” he said. “Hell, when we pull the logs out, there will be more dirt disturbed.”

“Yes, and you’re over the fourteen feet log length allowed to be placed for a crossing,” Boyd said with a sigh, knowing this was bullshit.

Holding out the tape roll, Joshua shook his head, “How long?”

“None of the ten are less than fourteen feet, eight inches, and two are just over fifteen feet,” Boyd said. “You can check me if you wish.”

“Why, so you can go find more bullshit?” Joshua said holding out the tape measure.

Taking the tape measure, “I also found three unmarked trees cut,” he said.

“Those were danger trees, and in the contract it clearly states, I can’t leave danger trees even if I have to enter the green zone,” Joshua said with a sigh. “So, anything else?”

“Um, yes,” Boyd said. “New federal guidelines state that you should have two porta potties on site for nine employees and we found several stumps over regulated height. I’m sure you will fix the stumps during clean up though.”

“Porta potties!” Joshua yelled throwing up his hands. “Are you fucking pulling my dick?”

“No, federal guidelines passed last year say any work in a federal forest must have one porta potty for every five workers. That is to ensure the proper disposal of human waste,” Boyd said.

Looking at Boyd with a flat expression, “We hold it till we get home,” Joshua said.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson,” Boyd said then walked away.

“So, are you shutting me down?”

“No, but I have to turn in my report and they will decide,” Boyd said as Garret turned and followed him.

Walking over to a stump as Boyd and Garret drove off, Joshua sat down and put his face in his hands. It was almost seven when the crew pulled all the equipment to the landing and Ben looked up and saw Joshua’s truck. “Hey Boss, you still here?” he called over the radio and looked around, even though it was dark.

“Yeah,” Joshua replied with a moan.

Everyone stopped and saw the shadowy shape of Joshua walking out of the trees from the stream with his shoulders slumped. “That doesn’t look good,” Gene said as the crew gathered around waiting on Joshua.

Reaching the group, Joshua told them what the two agents had said. “Porta-potties!” Ben screamed as others threw up their hands in disgust.

Waiting till the bitching died down, Joshua looked around at the crew. “They are after us for some reason.”

“You took this job to help them out!” Gene screamed in a towering rage. “We have always followed their stupid rules, and if we ever did anything you said wasn’t in the contract, you fixed it!”

“I know guys,” Joshua said. “Let’s go home, and I’m calling my lawyer.”

“You think Ralph can call them off?” Frank asked.

Shrugging his shoulders as he turned and walked away, “Have no idea,” Joshua said heading for the truck.

Chapter Three

“Wake up Joshua,” he heard and cracked his eyes open to see Sonya looking down at him. “It’s almost three-thirty.”

Jerking awake, Joshua sat up looking at the clock. “It’s been years since I slept through the alarm.”

“I turned it off,” Sonya said holding out a cup of coffee. “You didn’t fall asleep till after midnight.”

“No excuse for not working,” Joshua said taking the cup as he threw his legs out of bed. “Thank you.”

“Babe, don’t let it get to you. Just do what you’ve always done and complete the job,” she said reaching out and smoothing his long hair down. “You can’t fight them, so let Ralph take care of it.”

Running a hand down his beard, Joshua stood up. “Sonya, I don’t have the money to pay Ralph to fight them for very long, and they can take everything for bullshit I’ve never heard of. I looked through the contract and couldn’t find any reference to porta-potties.”

As he sat down his coffee mug Sonya handed him his pants. “You said yourself that the job will be done next week, just complete it and don’t worry about what you can’t control. Fighting the feds is like trying to stop the waves on the ocean with your hands.”

Grabbing his 1911, Joshua clipped it to his belt and Sonya handed him his shirt. “They can’t take the house because it’s in your name but the business, they can ransack.”

“Babe, don’t worry about what you can’t control,” she said as he buttoned up his shirt. “I have breakfast ready and packed for you so you don’t have to stop.”

Joshua sighed and reached out, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you,” he said hugging her tight.

“We’ll get through this, babe. It’s not in their best interest to shut you down. You make money for the economy.”

“Not to hear them talk I don’t,” he said pulling his boots on.

“This is America, Joshua, not some dictatorship,” Sonya said as he tied his boots. “They can’t just take our stuff and shut you down.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said standing up. “I think I worried William last night. Will you make sure he’s okay before dropping him off for school?”

“We talked last night but, yes, you know I will,” she smiled. For a stepmom, William had really bonded with Sonya and she loved him. Sonya loved kids but didn’t want to have any, so marrying Joshua was the perfect choice for her. Since high school, she had been fond of Joshua, but he and Mary had been inseparable.

Wrapping his arms around her, Joshua kissed her. “Thank you for breakfast and letting me sleep late.”

“I wanted to let you have more than one extra hour of sleep, but I knew you would throw a fit,” she said after he kissed her.

Joshua just smiled and headed out of the bedroom, stopping in the hallway to look in William’s room to see him sprawled out on his bed. Sighing, Joshua headed to the kitchen to see everything packed and on the table just waiting for him. Scooping it up in his arms, he headed outside.

After hitting the key fob to start the truck and unlock the doors, Joshua yanked the back door open and tossed in his food and gear. Climbing in, he glanced at his watch knowing he would normally almost be at the worksite by now.

Backing out in a hurry, Joshua sped down the road and tried to make up time that he felt he didn’t have. Reaching back, he grabbed the bag with breakfast and pulled out a stacked biscuit and started eating as he drove just over the speed limit.

It seemed to take forever to reach the turn off that would take him up to the valley and he kept glancing at the clock on the radio. Driving up the logging road, Joshua never slowed when he hit the snow line. With all the trucks constantly running up and down the mountain, the road was fairly clear of snow.

Reaching the valley Joshua slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt. Lights were spread out along the valley floor and he could see lights up on the slopes. Taking his foot off the brake, he saw the lights of one of the skidders heading to the landing. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was almost five. “When the fuck did they get here?”

Pulling up beside the other work trucks, he shut his off and jumped out, yanking the back door open and grabbing his radio to turn it on. He could hear chatter from his crew. Waiting for a break, Joshua keyed his mic. “Ben, I’m here. Meet me at the landing.”

“Already here, Boss,” Ben called back and Joshua saw a skidder dropping a pile of logs off at the landing.

Grabbing his gear, Joshua trotted over to the landing and saw Ben climbing out of the skidder. “When did you get here?” Joshua asked, stopping and putting on his jacket.

“Two,” Ben said with a grin.

“Ben, we can’t work at night. That’s in the contract.”

“Phfft,” Ben scoffed. “Well ‘we’ weren’t working at night. A few of us wanted to tie up some loose ends we’d left yesterday. We all have witnesses that’ll say we didn’t leave until our regular work time.”

“You could’ve called me,” Joshua said putting his hardhat on.

“Nope,” Ben grinned. “I texted Sonya at ten last night, and she said you were still talking with Ralph. I told her to let you sleep late and we would start the site up. What time did you finally go to sleep?”

“After midnight,” Joshua said hearing a chainsaw. “You’re cutting at night?”

“The last of the marked trees,” Ben said turning around to look at the lights moving around in the valley. “I always wanted to log at night. It’s not as much fun as the day though.”

Shaking his head, Joshua felt bad because he hadn’t got out here with them. “Bring me up to where we’re at now.”

“The last of the marked trees will be down in an hour. Then, I’ll have both track steers start the clean-up while everyone else runs chokers, so we can skid everything to the landing. I don’t think we’ll get all of them til Friday,” Ben said glancing over at Joshua. “Josh, Andy called me last night and said the Forestry Service started measuring every load at ten yesterday.”

“They can’t do that,” Joshua said pulling on his gloves. “It has to be random.”

“Everybody knows that, Josh. That’s why Andy called me,” Ben said and Joshua looked up.

“Why the fuck didn’t he call me?”

“He tried but your line was busy, so he called me.”

Remembering all the people he’d talked to last night, Joshua could remember the phone beeping at him a few times, but he hadn’t answered it. “What’s Andy think?”

“This is bullshit.”

“Hell, everyone I talked to said the same thing,” Joshua said watching the dozer pull up, dropping a pile of logs. “What do you want me to do?”

Ben handed over some chem lights and a head lantern. “What you always do,” Ben said grinning. “The first trucks will be here at six. Hang the chem lights on your legs, so they can be seen from the back.”

Watching Ben walk over to the skidder, Joshua put the light on his hardhat then broke the chem lights, shaking them up and tying them to his legs. When he was done, Ben’s skidder was bouncing down the valley. Starting up the loader, Joshua walked down the valley to check on the crew.

He saw one of the track steers shoving all the cut limbs into piles. Shaking his head as Gene moved a spotlight, aiming it at a marked tree, Joshua stepped back as Gene looked around before attacking the tree with his chainsaw.

Glancing at his watch, Joshua saw the log trucks would be arriving soon and headed back to the landing. When he reached the loader he saw headlights entering the valley. “We can do this,” he grinned and climbed up in the loader.

Before the sun rose, all the marked trees were down and both track steers were running around with the crawler, piling the limbs and treetops and cleaning up the site. When the sun was over the mountains, Joshua laughed to see Donnie walking around with a yardstick and chainsaw, cutting stumps.

It was just before noon when Joshua turned to see three SUVs pull into the valley. All of them had several antennas, but the first one had a light bar on the roof and when it turned toward the landing, Joshua saw it was a state trooper. “No wonder criminals are ruling the nation. All the law enforcement is harassing the law abiders,” Joshua snapped grabbing his radio. “Ben, company. Come run the loader while I see what the fuck they want.”

“On my way,” Ben called back and Joshua climbed out of the loader. When he stood on the track of the loader, the state trooper SUV stopped and the trooper got out, making Joshua groan. It was Wayne Morgan. Joshua’s father had fired Wayne’s dad for continuing to show up on site drunk, and almost killing one of the other workers. Since then, Wayne had hated Joshua’s family because Wayne felt it was Joshua’s dad’s responsibility to help his dad.

“I really wonder what I did to piss God off,” Joshua mumbled jumping down. When he looked back over, Wayne was staring at him with an evil sneer as the driver’s door on the other SUV opened and a man stepped out, with another getting out of the passenger side. “You must have a hardhat to be on this site,” Joshua said walking past Wayne to the two men who screamed ‘fed’. Both were wearing suits and nice dress shoes.

“We’re here to pull you off the site,” Wayne shouted dropping his hand to his gun.

Not looking at Wayne, Joshua kept his eyes on the two men as they walked up to him. “So you’re shutting me down?”

“No, but you must leave the site until we evaluate the charges against you,” one of the men said pulling out a badge. “Agent Dale Gray with the FBI.”

“If you pull me off site, the contract is void and all fines I have to pay for not completing the contract can’t be enforced,” Joshua said as Dale was putting his badge back in his coat.

“Huh?” Dale said as the other man pulled his badge out.

“Homeland Agent Rodney Ward,” he said as Joshua turned to look at the ID and badge.

“What the fuck is Homeland doing here? We aren’t terrorists.”

“These forests are considered national assets and you’ve been charged with stealing them,” Rodney said putting his badge away.

Turning back to Dale, “If you force me from the site, the contract is void and I’m not liable for penalties,” Joshua said and glanced over at Wayne who still had his hand on his pistol. “Wayne, why are you threatening me? I have made no threatening moves against you.”

“I’m a cop, asshole, and I decide what’s hostile, so shut your mouth,” Wayne sneered.

“Officer Morgan, you’re here to observe, so observe,” Dale said looking at him, then turned back to Joshua. “What do you mean, you’re not liable per contract?”

“Just what I said,” Joshua said glancing back at Wayne, who still had his hand on his pistol. “And again I must tell you, any person on a logging site in a federal forest must have a hardhat and logging boots on.”

Agent Ward snickered. “That doesn’t apply to us. We’re the ones who enforce the rules, not you.”

“We aren’t shutting you down, Mr. Anderson. We are simply removing you from the site until this matter is handled in court,” Agent Gray said cutting his eyes from Wayne to Homeland Agent Ward. Idaho law states that federal law enforcement had to notify state authorities and the FBI had notified the sheriff, but he had refused to provide a deputy. So the FBI had notified the state police, and unknown to them, Officer Morgan had demanded to be on this operation.

“Fine, but I’m not liable,” Joshua said with a relieved sigh.

Agent Morgan saw the look of relief and was confused. “You seem relieved that we are barring you from the site.”

“Oh, I am,” Joshua smiled. “You just saved me hundreds of thousands of dollars in penalties.”

Not liking the sound of that, Wayne looked at Gray. “You know what he’s talking about?”

“No,” Morgan said shaking his head.

“My contract says if the site is closed to me for any reason, I’m not liable,” Joshua said feeling relief flood his body.

Agent Ward laughed. “Boy, we are the government. We can do anything we want, so your contract means nothing.”

FBI Agent Gray groaned and turned to Ward in a low voice. “Will you calm down and act professional.”

Wayne sneered at Joshua as the two agents whispered back and forth. “I’m so happy to be here and see you shut down.”

“Officer, that’s enough,” Agent Gray snapped, feeling like he was lecturing kids. Taking a deep breath, Agent Gray turned to Joshua. “Mr. Anderson, how long would it take you to produce this contract?”

“Long enough to walk over to my truck,” Joshua said, staring at the Homeland Agent beside Gray. Agent Ward was red-faced, glaring at the side of Agent Gray’s face.

Startled, Gray shook his head. “You keep it with you?”

“Yep,” Joshua said still looking at Agent Ward glaring at Gray. “Dad always said to keep it with you on a sale site.”

“I’m in fucking charge here Agent Gray!” Ward screamed. “Homeland is over every agency!”

Forcing a smile, “May I see it please?” Gray asked and Joshua nodded. “Thank you.”

As Joshua turned around, Gray spun on Ward and the two started quietly arguing. Before Joshua had even taken a step Wayne fell in behind him, still keeping his hand on the butt of his pistol. “You’re fucked, Joshua. The IRS is seizing your assets,” he chuckled.

“Fuck off Wayne,” Joshua said as the two Agents started raising their voices as they argued behind them.

“Think I’m kidding?” he laughed. “I sat in on the briefing this morning on how they are taking you down. IRS was there, FBI, Forestry Service, Homeland, Department of Labor, EPA, OSHA, CPS and the Department of Justice. All of them laid the plan out, how they are going to take everything from you. When they are done, you’ll have nothing. The only way you’re not going to spend the rest of your life in prison, is if you plead guilty.”

Knowing Wayne was just pushing, Joshua tried to keep calm. “Wayne, I’ve done nothing wrong, so I don’t have anything to fear.”

“They are going to shut you down and sell off your equipment this month,” Wayne laughed. “They don’t even have to prove you’re guilty, it’s called ‘civil asset forfeiture’. You’ll have to prove you’re innocent just to get it back, but you’re going to have to plead guilty just so you don’t spend the rest of your life in prison.”

Reaching his truck, Joshua took a deep breath and turned around. “Wayne, will you just shut up?”

“Just to let you know, I’m the one that called Child Protective Services in,” he grinned. “Seems to me, you’re endangering your son, bringing him here on this site with all this dangerous equipment. The feds loved it.”

“Don’t fuck with my family,” Joshua growled and Wayne tightened his grip on his pistol.

“Tomorrow morning the IRS is seizing your assets, so how can you even pay your lawyer?” Wayne smirked. “You’re going to sit in jail while we take everything. I’ll make sure your son goes somewhere nice.”

Glad his beard covered his face as he felt his cheeks getting red, Joshua looked up as Agent Ward stormed over with FBI agent Gray behind him. “I didn’t tell you to walk away!” Agent Ward screamed.

“Agent Gray told me to get the contract,” Joshua said, fighting to keep his voice calm.

“I’m in charge here and you’ll do what I say! Get it?!” Ward bellowed.

Crossing his arms, Joshua glanced at Wayne, then at Ward. “So, do you want to see the contract or not?”

“Yes,” Gray said stepping up.

Ward spun toward Gray. “This is my investigation asshole. Speak again and I’ll have you brought up on charges for interfering.”

“Seems my contract isn’t worth much,” Joshua said glancing at Gray. “I’ve heard you’re already going to seize everything.”

Gray just closed his eyes and shook his head as Ward turned to Joshua. “You’re goddamn right we are,” he growled. “Nine o’clock tomorrow, you have nothing. The IRS says we will get over two million in forfeiture of assets from you so fuck your contract, but by all means, you can show it to the college grad if you want,” Ward said motioning to Agent Gray with a nod.

As Joshua opened his truck, Gray leaned over to Ward whispering. “You don’t tell the suspect when you’re going to serve the warrant, dumbass. They can destroy evidence.”

Grabbing the contract, Joshua looked down at the door storage compartment seeing his 1911. Leaving the door open, he turned and opened the contract up. “It says in appendix C, if I’m barred from the sale site for any reason the contract is void, and I have ninety days after the site is reopened to fix any violations,” he said flipping the contract open.

“So?” Ward chuckled as Gray took the contract and started reading.

“It means I’m not in violation until ninety days after I’m done,” Joshua said now fighting to keep calm.

“Theft or destruction of national assets is a direct violation of the federal law that falls under the terrorist acts,” Ward growled. “I might just make the recommendation that you be labeled a terrorist and sent to one of our black rooms for questioning. As a senior Homeland Agent, I can do that.”

“I’m a citizen. I have rights,” Joshua said, for the first time getting scared.

Seeing Joshua’s eyes widen in fear, Ward’s grin broadened. “No, you lose those.”

“Ward,” Agent Gray said holding up the contract. “Step back here, you need to read this.”

As the two stepped to the front of the truck, Wayne laughed. “Told you,” he said. “It’s taken almost thirty years, but I finally get to see the Andersons fall.”

Knowing he couldn’t reply without his voice trembling, Joshua kept his mouth shut and watched the two agents arguing. “This contract was drawn up by the Forest Service and throws a lot of our case out,” Gray said as Ward read where he was pointing. “We can’t charge him with most of the violations until he turns the site over to the Forest Service.”

Not understanding what he was reading, Ward looked up at Gray. “You can’t maybe, but I can.”

“We will lose,” Gray whispered.

“No, we won’t. He has no choice but to do what we say. We’re taking everything he has, so he can’t fight back. This won’t come up in court for years and during that time, I’ll make sure he’s held without bail. What’s his family going to do? Nobody can fight us,” Ward said proudly.

“Hey, I want this as much as you do, but we need to proceed with caution and get the Justice Department to go over this contract,” Gray said closing the contract.

“Well, give it to them,” Ward said waving at the contract.

“Our warrants aren’t good till tomorrow.”

“Pussy,” Ward spat as he spun around walking back over to Joshua who was still standing at his door. “We’re taking this contract.”

“I’ll need to see the warrant,” Joshua said fighting to keep his voice from trembling.

Seeing Joshua trying to stay calm, Ward chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be destroyed, but it might accidentally get lost.”

“So? I have a copy at home and the original is with my lawyer,” Joshua said forcing a smile. “Just in case that one gets lost.”

Ward’s face flushed red with anger at the audacity of Joshua trying to stand up against the federal government. “I’ve a good mind now to just haul your ass in,” he snapped. “I’ll make up charges later.”

With his arms still crossed over his chest, Joshua said. “I must admit, I’ve never felt more threatened in my life.”

“You backwoods hick, I could shoot you now and wouldn’t even get a letter of reprimand,” Ward said opening his coat and tucking it behind his holster. “Hell, we’ve even shot women and kids and never been questioned.”

“Like I said, that is only a copy of the contract. The Forest Service has one original, and I have the other,” Joshua said with a slight tremble in his voice.

Reaching over to Gray, Ward grabbed the contract and threw it at Joshua. Instinctively, Joshua reached out to catch it. “Hold it!” Wayne yelled as Joshua caught the contract and hit the thumb snap on his holster.

“Jesus Christ, I’m holding a stack of papers!” Joshua yelled, glancing at Wayne and seeing that only the barrel of his pistol was still in the holster. Looking up at Ward, Joshua’s heart sped up seeing he had his hand on his pistol, too. “You’re going to shoot me with witnesses?”

“Hah,” Ward huffed. “Who’s going to believe loggers over federal agents?”

Wayne looked over at Agent Ward, not liking to be left out. “Gentlemen, we need to control ourselves,” Gray said brushing his coat back and for a second, Joshua felt he had an ally. “Mr. Anderson, step back,” he said grabbing his pistol. “Don’t make a decision you’ll regret.”

“It’s fucking paper,” Joshua shouted.

“You made a threatening move toward a federal agent,” Gray said watching him. “Agent Ward was just returning your contract.”

“About time you got on board,” Ward said grinning as he glanced over at Gray.

Looking over at Ward, Gray nodded. “You better make damn sure you put in the report that I did an excellent job,” he said taking his eyes off Joshua looking at Ward. “I’m tired of working in the Northwest.”

“Don’t worry,” Ward chuckled.

Without moving his body, Joshua glanced at Wayne who was looking at the two agents with a grimace. “Here Wayne, you’re state. I’m voluntarily giving this contract to you,” Joshua said, tossing the contract to him.

Wayne moved his eyes from the two agents to see the contract flying at his face, he let go of his gun as he reached up with both hands to catch it. Both agents heard Joshua and turned to see the contract flying toward Wayne. Glad he chose not to stand against Ward, Gray let go of his pistol.

Nobody saw Joshua drop his hand to his open door. When Wayne caught the contract, Joshua brought up his hand holding the 1911. “I feel threatened,” Joshua said as he squeezed the trigger. Thunder roared as the bullet streaked across the ten feet from Joshua to Wayne.

Wayne’s head snapped back as the bullet hit him right between the eyes. Before Agent Ward even registered what had happened, Joshua had his sights lined up on Ward’s face and squeezed the trigger. Ward’s head snapped back as Joshua swung his aim at Gray.

At the first gunshot, Gray had reached for his pistol, but was looking down the barrel of Joshua’s gun as he grabbed it. “Please,” he said slowly relaxing his hand and taking it off his pistol.

“You want a war? You got one,” Joshua said squeezing the trigger.

Agent Gray’s head snapped back as the bullet blew out the back of his head, and Joshua looked down at the other two he had shot to see the snow around their heads turning red. Hearing Gray’s body fall, he turned around and noticed his guys standing only twenty feet away on the other side of the truck.

Each of them had an ax or hatchet in their hands to use as a weapon. “Are you guys fucking nuts?” Joshua shouted at them.

“They were going to fucking kill you Josh!” Ben shouted lowering his ax. “We weren’t going to just stand there and let them gun you down.”

“No shit,” Gene said lowering his hatchet. “We heard it and you had no choice but to defend yourself.”

Joshua shut his door and stepped over the bodies to walk to the front of his truck. “Guys, if you would’ve helped, you would’ve been accessories. This is all on me,” he said taking a deep breath to calm down.

“Let’s go tell the sheriff what happened,” Alex said as he leaned on the ax he was going to use on the agents.

“Buck can’t help me,” Joshua said closing his eyes.

“I’ll stand with ya,” Ben said walking over.

“NO!” Joshua said snapping his eyes open. “That’s what they want. My only chance is for none of you to get involved.”

“Bullshit!” Ben screamed. “I’ve known you my entire life, and you expect me to just sit back while they fuck you!”

“Ben,” Joshua said taking a deep breath. “If you help me, a jury would never believe your testimony. But I do need to ask something of all of you.”

“Name it,” Ben said and the others nodded.

“Watch my family. If I’m not there, the feds don’t have a reason to come in guns blazing, but they might lean on them hard later,” Joshua said leaning on the hood of his truck.

“You don’t even have to ask for that, Joshua,” Frank said stepping up beside Ben. “We heard them tell you they were taking everything, and basically threatened to shoot your family.”

“I know,” Joshua said as a plan started to form in his mind. “When the cops ask you, just tell them what you saw. Don’t lie or they can prosecute you.”

“What are you going to do?” Ben asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Joshua said pushing off the truck.

Ben turned and looked at the crew. “Get the low boy trailers hooked up to the rigs and get the gear you have out loaded up now,” he snapped and the guys took off running.

“What are you doing?” Joshua asked.

“Can I borrow this equipment?” Ben asked turning around.

“Why? They’re taking it tomorrow.”

“If it’s not at your shop or here, they can’t take it,” Ben said looking down at Agent Gray and the red halo that had formed around his head in the snow. “Josh, you’ve always been there for me. Be damned if I just lie down and take it up the ass while they come after you. Believe me, this much I know. If the equipment isn’t where they have warrants for, they won’t dig hard.”

Looking at the three bodies, Joshua nodded. “Yeah, especially after this.”

“You know I’ll die for William and Sonya, what else do you need? This is just between you and me.”

Not wanting to ask for anything, Joshua stared at Ben and knew he would do the same. “The BMW that’s parked at my mom’s,” Joshua said as the plan in his mind kept building. “Will you drive it and park it where I went grouse hunting with you last year?”

“Sure, I’ll leave the keys at the base of that ugly ass boulder.”

“If the feds find out about this, you could go to prison,” Joshua said giving Ben a way out.

“Pfft,” Ben scoffed. “I forget shit all the time.”

Looking over at the guys running around the landing, Joshua turned to Ben. “Until I see you again,” he said holding out his hand.

“Me and the guys will be waiting,” Ben said shaking his hand.

Turning around, Joshua looked at the dead bodies as he stepped over them. Taking the radio off Wayne’s gun belt and seeing another clipped on Wayne’s pocket, he took them. “Assholes,” he said opening his truck and climbing in.

Ben stepped back as the truck fired up and Joshua sped off. “Stay safe, my brother,” Ben said then trotted over to the landing, calling the guys on the radio. Everyone met him at the loader. “Guys, we’re taking the equipment to my place.”

Everyone looked at him, then around at the group. “Ben, that’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard,” Gene said shaking his head. “You live on three acres. When they come and question us, they will see it parked on your property.”

“Well genius, what do you want to do, just let them take it?” Ben snapped.

“Hell no, let’s take it to my house and we can put it in that gorge at the back of my property. The only way they would ever find it would be to hike in there,” Gene said and everyone nodded, liking that.

“What about all the shit at the shop?” Alex asked. “There is a shit load of stuff there.”

“Okay,” Ben said looking at the group and seeing everyone was determined to help. “We load up the Hahn and loader first and take them to Gene’s, along with the track steers. Frank and I will drive the skidder and crawler down the mountain and by the time the trucks get back, we should be close to the highway. Robert, Alex, you two take the other truck to the shop and hook up a trailer and load it down.”

Ben looked around at everyone as they nodded. “Guys, we don’t have to report a crime but if we’re asked, just like Joshua said, tell them the truth.”

“Remember, a federal agent can lie to you with impunity, but if you lie to a federal agent; you’re breaking the law,” Chris said.

“What do we say if they ask about the equipment?” Donnie asked and everyone looked at him. “Hey, I just want to make sure we have our story straight.”

“Say Josh let someone borrow it,” Ben said with a grin. “We don’t know who.”

Alex looked over at the bodies, “What do we do about them?”

“If we touch them, we are tampering with a crime scene,” Chris said. “Fuck ‘em.”

“How long you think we have?” Ben asked looking around.

“Maybe a few hours,” Chris said. “There’s no reception up here, but their buddies know where they went. It all matters on when they are supposed to check in.”

“We’ll be long gone from here by then,” Ben said looking at the group. “After the equipment is at Gene’s, everyone head to the shop and we’ll load up what we can. Then we meet at Gene’s and get our stories straight, then head home.”

“I’m sure the cops will be looking for us by then,” Frank said.

“Well then, we need to bust some ass, guys. Let’s get this stuff out of here,” Ben said and everyone took off running. He ran over to one of the log trucks and climbed in, calling out on the radio to get to the other log trucks. One answered back that he was on the highway and about to turn off. Ben told him the site was shut down by the feds, and to tell the other trucks to head home.

Chapter Four

Bouncing down the mountain road, Joshua glanced at his cellphone again still not seeing bars, but noticed it was fifteen till three. “Come on,” he said and pressed the pedal down a little further. The speedometer crept up to thirty-five and on a winding mountain road, that was hauling serious ass.

When a single bar popped up on his phone, Joshua hit Sonya’s work number. She worked as a manager at an insurance company and turned her phone off while she was at work because of company policy. “Mountain Insurance,” a female answered.

“Hey it’s Joshua. I need to talk to Sonya.”

“Hey Joshua, she just left to pick up William from school.”

“Thank you,” he said and hung up before tapping her cell number.

“How the hell are you calling me from the top of a mountain?” Sonya answered the phone.

“Have you picked up William?”

“He’s getting in the car now,” she said laughing. “Josh, I’ve never forgotten to pick up William.”

“Sonya, I need you to go to the bank right now and withdraw all our checking, savings, and the company’s checking and savings. Don’t forget to empty the deposit box as well,” he said and Sonya gasped.

“What the hell is going on?” she yelled.

“Babe, I can’t talk now, but you need to hurry. Don’t close the accounts, but get the money. Tell them I have to make a down payment on a private piece of equipment and the man won’t take a check,” Joshua said as he yanked the steering wheel rounding a hairpin turn.

“Josh, we have checks out and-.”

“Sonya, please,” Joshua begged interrupting her. “You don’t have much time.”

Panting into the phone, “Okay,” Sonya said. “You will explain why to me later, right?”

“I’ll meet you at the house,” Joshua said feeling the first bit of relief. “Love you and tell William I love him, too.”

“Okay, hon,” Sonya said with a worried tone and Joshua hung up.

Before three, Joshua was on the highway speeding home. Glancing down at his speedometer, “Shit,” he mumbled, seeing he was near triple digits and hit the brakes. Keeping the needle at the speed limit, Joshua kept working on his plan.

Reaching the house, he pulled over to the pasture and backed up to his horse trailer. All the horses and mules ran over to the fence as he climbed out and hooked the trailer up. With the trailer hooked up, he went to the gate. “King,” he called out and his horse trotted over to him.

He reached up patting the gray half Percheron. “I’m in deep shit,” he said rubbing the massive horse. King had been his since he was a colt, and Joshua treated him almost like a dog. Opening the gate, Joshua led King over to the trailer. “Get in, boy,” he said and King neighed as he stepped up into the trailer.

Closing the stall, Joshua went back for the mules. For them, he used a guide rope to lead the two mules in the trailer. William and Sonya’s horses looked at him like they were wondering why they weren’t going. “Not today, guys,” Joshua said closing the trailer.

He pulled over to the small barn and jumped out. Grabbing his saddle and the pack harnesses for the mules he threw them in the back of the truck. He looked at the stacked bags of feed and stopped. “A little more would never hurt,” he said walking over and throwing several bags in the back.

After grabbing a few more things, he drove over to the house, just pulling the truck in the front yard. Jumping out, he ran to the garage and grabbed some empty suitcases and headed inside to the kitchen. Opening the pantry, he started tossing bags of rice and beans in one of the suitcases.

Tossing a few bottles of Tabasco and others sauces in, he looked at all the canned food. “No, too heavy,” he said and grabbed bags of noodles. Seeing the suitcase was almost full, Joshua grabbed two containers of salt, putting them in and closing the suitcase.

Grabbing more dry goods, he tossed them in the other suitcase and then carried it to his office. He opened the small safe behind his desk and grabbed a large manila envelope. ‘Don’t ever take this out of the house’ was written on the outside in black marker.

“Well, I guess I’m in trouble,” he said opening the envelope. Inside were several passports and driver’s licenses. Last year, William had been up at the cabin with him and found a guy on a website that made fake IDs and William had begged his dad to let him order some. More out of curiosity if it could be done, Joshua had said ‘what the hell’ and had given William some money.

When the first ones arrived, Joshua was blown away at how real they’d looked. It was then that Joshua’s mom had asked him if he would shave his beard, just so she could see his face before she passed on. Not liking it, Joshua did it and Sonya took some pictures. With those pictures, Joshua had William send off for more IDs but this time, he’d got them for other states.

Getting the fake IDs in had made Joshua feel like a secret agent, but he knew if he ever used them, he was totally screwed. Just owning a fake government issued ID was against the law, but at the time, it’d been a gag for Joshua and really, it was one thing he’d always wanted to see if it could be done. He was a law-abiding citizen for the most part but the laws he broke, he didn’t believe in.

In the envelope were passports for William and even a Georgia Driver’s License that said he was sixteen. He opened one of the passports for Sonya and smiled, remembering her reaction when he’d shown her. Sonya thought it was the coolest thing ever and wanted to show everyone. It took some convincing to stop her.

Knowing the safe would be searched, he tossed the envelope in the suitcase and then turned to the wall, looking at a picture of him with his mom, Sonya, and William. It was the only picture of him without his beard, except for the ones on the fake IDs. “Have to tell mom ‘thank you’ sometime for that,” he said and rummaged around in the safe, not seeing anything else that could get them in trouble. Grabbing the stack of emergency money, he tossed it in the bag.

He walked over to the picture on the wall, taking it down and looking at it, running his fingers over William and Sonya. With a deep breath, he tossed it in the suitcase. Looking on the shelf beside his gun safe at the neat stacks of boxes of ammo, Joshua grabbed the bricks of 22s and tossed them in. He had more at the cabin, but a 22 was going to feed him.

Looking back at the shelf, he saw two boxes of hand loads for his Sharps .45 2 7/8 caliber. “Why the hell not?” he said grabbing them. Tossing in all of the 45 ammo, he opened the gun safe and looked at his rather large collection. Grabbing the Springfield XD and its clip-on holster, he shoved it onto his belt.

He pulled out the 1878 Sharps Long Range .45 2 7/8 black power and smiled at it. “It was good enough then,” he said running his hand along the thirty-six-inch-long barrel. Laying it down, he grabbed his AR from the safe that Chris had set up for him. “I have a feeling I’ll be using you,” he said, laying the decked out gun beside the Sharps.

Next, he pulled out his Savage BA110 .338 Lapua. It was set up on a tactical stock, but this was the gun he used to hunt elk and he had no trouble hitting one at a thousand yards. It was because of Chris that it was set up on a tactical stock with a massive scope that cost more than the damn rifle. But after Joshua had shot it, he’d understood. The last gun he grabbed was his Ruger 10/22.

“That’s enough calibers,” he said laying the guns next to the others. Grabbing all the ammo for the Lapua and AR, he tossed them in the suitcase and zipped it up. Picking up a large hard rifle case, Joshua put the Sharps and Lapua in and after seeing that he had room for the Ruger, he put it in too.

He closed the case and went to his bedroom, bringing back a tote bag and filling it with empty magazines for the AR, Lapua, Ruger, XD and his 1911. Zipping the bag closed, he looked at the magazines still on the shelf, but he had more at the cabin.

Carrying the stuff to the kitchen, he sat it on the table and headed back to his bedroom closet. Pulling down a large duffle bag, he started yanking down his summer hunting clothes. His winter hunting gear was at the cabin, and his hunting gear far outperformed anything that the government issued. Cramming it all in the bag, he grabbed his extra hunting boots and put them in as well.

Moving to the dresser, he threw in more stuff and was about to close the duffle bag, but stopped, looking again at his closet. He walked over and grabbed a pair of slacks and a polo shirt, tossing them in with his loafers. “Camouflage for the modern world,” he grinned and closed the bag.

After dropping it off downstairs, he ran around the house, grabbing a few more items and bringing them to the kitchen table, but froze upon hearing a car pull in the driveway. Pulling out his pistol, he eased over to the window and peeked out to see Sonya get out of the car carrying a stuffed bank bag and her purse was way overloaded. “What the hell did he park on the grass for?” Sonya said, looking at the truck and horse trailer as she shut her door.

“Where’s he taking the horses?” William asked getting out of the passenger side.

“He’s got some explaining to do,” Sonya said heading toward the house.

Holstering his pistol, Joshua tried to harden his heart as he felt it breaking. Sonya walked in and froze, looking at the pile of stuff on the kitchen table. She turned to see Joshua looking at her and saw his eyes were misty. “What’s going on?” she said tossing the bank bag on the table and putting her stuffed purse on the floor as William walked in and gawked at the pile.

Not saying anything, Joshua walked over and wrapped his arms around both of them. He hugged them tight for several minutes, then let them go. “Sit down, I need to tell you something,” he said pulling out two chairs from the table. When he’d finished telling them what had happened and what was said by the agents, Sonya and William stared at him with open mouths.

“I’m heading to the mountains,” he said, kneeling down in front of them. “If I’m not here, you’re not in danger.”

“Josh, you have witnesses that they tried to kill you,” Sonya said as tears ran down her face. “We can go to tell Buck.”

“Joey may be the sheriff, but he can’t stand up to the feds, babe,” Joshua said reaching out and grabbing her hand. “My only chance is to stay away and hope.” They both knew Joey ‘Buck’ Harper and were good friends with the sheriff.

“Dad, we have a lawyer for this,” William said as he dragged his forearm across his nose.

“Son, we’ve seen how the feds treat people here. They’ve killed women and children before, in this very county, just across the lake and were never punished. The three I shot all but said, they would shoot you two because of me. If I’m not here, they have no reason or justification to.”

“Is that why you wanted me to empty the bank accounts?” Sonya sobbed.

“Yes, they are seizing them tomorrow morning, and I wanted to make sure you and William had it. If you need anything, get in touch with Ben. The house is in your name so they can’t take it, but they are going to search it and I’m sure take a lot of shit,” he said then looked at William. “If you have stuff on your computers that shouldn’t be there, get it off.”

“Yes, sir,” William said trying not to cry. He looked at his dad’s belt and saw his cellphone. “Dad, leave your cellphone so they can’t track you.”

“I will son,” he said with a forced smile.

William looked at the pile of gear and noticed his dad’s laptop. “Hold on Dad,” he said getting up and walking out.

“Joshua, what are we going to do?” Sonya said launching out of the chair and wrapping her arms around him.

Almost falling over when she collided with him, Joshua wrapped his arms around her and stood up. “Whatever we have to,” he said squeezing her tight. “Go through the house and take out what you think is important and hide the money, but not in the house because they will take it.”

“I will,” she sobbed.

“Sonya, do you have any pictures of me without my beard on your computer?”

“No, that laptop died and William couldn’t get them off,” she said and gasped lifting her head up. “The picture in your office.”

“I have it,” he grinned. “Along with the IDs.”

“Holy shit,” Sonya said stepping back. “If they would’ve found those…”

“I’m taking them,” he said caressing her face. “You two take care of each other.”

“When do you think we can see you?”

Taking a deep breath, Joshua sighed. “Not for a while because I’m positive they are going to watch you like a hawk.”

“We need to tell Ralph, damn it. For what his firm charges, he should be able to do something,” she said stepping back as William came in.

“Yes, you call him and tell him that you need to meet him at his office tonight, after you’re done here. I don’t want you two here when the feds show up.”

“Okay,” Sonya nodded.

“Dad,” William said grabbing his laptop case. “You can’t take your computer because it can be traced. Take this one,” he said holding out a laptop. “It’s a ghost computer, so it changes IP addresses.”

“I wasn’t going to hook up to the internet,” Joshua said taking it.

“Well, you can with that one. Just do it somewhere with a lot of people using wireless,” William said and handed over a phone. “This is the cellphone I use to surf the web and not get tracked. It’s a disposable phone and I have one more card for it. I know the number and when I think it’s clear, I’ll send you a message.”

“Son, no. They will get you for that if they find out.”

“Dad, trust me. Now don’t go to any site or email you’ve ever used,” William said taking his dad’s laptop. “I’ll wipe this one.”

They talked more for half an hour and Joshua hugged them again. “Guys, I have to go. I’m sure they are looking for those I shot.”

“Please be careful,” Sonya said burying her face in his chest.

“I will,” he said. “Don’t worry, it may be a while, but I’ll be back.”

They helped him carry his stuff out and load it into the truck. He hugged them again and climbed in the truck and pulled out. Sonya put her arm around William as Joshua disappeared from sight and they just stood, staring down the road.

Hearing a truck, she turned toward the shop on the other side of the property to see the guys pulling up. They all climbed out, running toward the shop and were soon carrying stuff out. “William, we have work to do,” she said, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Driving out of town, Joshua looked at the dashboard clock and saw it was after six. “This is bullshit,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. Clearing his mind, Joshua thought about what he had to do as he drove on to his cabin. Reaching over into the passenger seat, he turned up the radio he’d taken off of Wayne.

The cabin had belonged to his great-uncle, who died in the war and was passed onto his dad, then to him. Like the BMW he’d asked Ben to move, the land was still in his great uncle’s name. When the renewal papers came in the mail, he’d just sent back a check. Joshua had thought of changing the land over to his name but liked having it in his uncle’s name. Now he was happy that neither he nor his dad had changed the title. It was just twenty acres, but it sat in the middle of a national forest.

Under no illusions, Joshua knew he couldn’t stay there long, but at least he had another place to go to. He’d found it the year after his dad died and took the biggest elk he had ever seen. It was an old dug out left by a trapper. Joshua had found trinkets in the dugout that dated to the early 1800’s and was certain that no one else had ever been there since.

Whoever had built it, just laid logs over a small ravine and dug it out. It was only twenty by twenty feet, but unless you literally stumbled on it, you could be next to it and never know it was there. Joshua had found it while scouting and had pushed past some bushes and found an ancient dilapidated door. He’d had to break the door because dirt had piled up inside against it.

Falling in love with it instantly, Joshua slowly over the years, had made small repairs and used it as an elk camp. He’d even dug up small bushes and placed them around the entrance to help hide it from other hunters. Feeling that he’d been the one to find it, so he shouldn’t have to share it.

This year, he had taken his elk on his first day of hunting and still had over a ton of hay there for the horses, along with some feed. There was a tiny clearing half a mile away that he let the horse and mules graze in, when he came up in the summer to scout. Now, he would use it to hide and if pushed more, hunt different game.

He had never taken anyone there. This would’ve been the first year that William could hunt and Joshua was going to take him to see his special camp, that was only a stone’s throw from the Canadian border. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust William, but it was a hard trek in, and in winter was ten times worse. More than once, Joshua had to pack up and haul ass in a blizzard so he didn’t get snowed in.

Passing the town sign of Nordman, Joshua slowed and wondered if he should just turn himself in. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Be damned if I sit in a jail cell because they want my shit,” he mumbled and pressed the accelerator down, leaving that thought behind.

It was dusk when he pulled up to the cabin. He unloaded the mules into the small stable and then unloaded the truck, just dropping stuff on the floor of the cabin. Then he went back to the truck and took everything that was not a part of the truck out.  Dropping everything on the floor of the cabin, he looked at the AR laying on the table and shook his head. “Haven’t heard anything yet,” he said holding up the radios he’d taken.

Trotting back to the truck, he drove down to Nordman Road and headed west to the Washington border only two miles away. When he entered Washington, he turned off of the highway onto a logging road. Driving back ten miles, he found the old landing they had used twenty years ago, when they logged this area.

Pulling the truck and trailer as far into the trees as he could, Joshua set the brake and climbed out shutting the door behind him. “Man, I’m going to miss my truck,” he said patting the bed as he moved to the horse trailer and got King out. Grabbing the saddle, he put it on the massive horse and King just stood still.

When he had King saddled, Joshua climbed on and headed back to the cabin, twelve miles away. He stayed on the logging road till he reached the highway. After he crossed, he continued on. now moving carefully cross country. The snow line was around five thousand feet and he was barely under it.

Two miles from the cabin, the radio chatter caught his attention. “Unit 24, Officer Morgan hasn’t reported in. Need you to check last location.”

At that time, Sonya and William were sitting in Ralph Butler’s, their lawyer’s office in Priest River with the sheriff, Buck. After Ralph had heard the story, he’d called Buck over. When Sonya was finished, Buck was just staring at her with an open mouth. “Why in the hell, didn’t Joshua just come to me?” Buck finally said.

“Dad said you couldn’t fight the feds,” William said.

“Holy shit,” Buck said pulling out his cellphone and dialed the station. “Susan, I need you to send some deputies out and bring in some people for questioning,” Buck said and gave her Ben and the rest of the crews’ names. “Now, you make sure to tell each one this is voluntary, but I need to know what happened because the feds are involved.”

As Buck talked, Sonya looked over at Ralph. “What do you think is going to happen to Joshua?”

“Sonya, he should’ve turned himself in and let the courts handle this.”

“Jesus Ralph, they threatened to kill me and William,” Sonya said. “You just expect him to sit in a cell with a threat like that? They told him they were taking everything. He’s doing what he thinks is right.”

Glancing at Buck, Ralph held up his hand. “Sonya, that was the lawyer talking,” Ralph said in a low voice. “I started making calls after talking to Joshua yesterday and someone wants him shut down bad. It’s impossible to not have a violation of some kind with all the rules now, but they usually only enforce the big ones, not the nitpicky. Talking to you as a friend, Joshua did the right thing. He needs to lay low and let us get a handle on this.”

Buck hung up his phone and looked at Sonya. “Sonya, I’m telling you right now, if it happened the way Joshua told you, I’m whoopin’ somebody’s ass.”

“Buck,” William said in a low voice. “Dad said they are going to run over you.”

“We’ll see son,” Buck said getting up and looking at Ralph. “Your firm going to represent his crew?”

“Yep,” Ralph nodded. “I only have two partners, so you can only talk to three at a time.”

“Fine by me,” Buck said turning to Sonya. “Sonya, you and William are staying at my house tonight. I sent a patrol car over to your place.”

“Buck, you may want to notify Stanley,” Ralph said getting up.

Putting his cellphone in his pocket, Buck nodded. “I already notified the county prosecutor.”

“Buck, I have to ask, did the feds approach you to go to Joshua’s site?” Ralph asked.

Letting out a long sigh, Buck nodded. “Yeah, but Ralph, they are going after him for stump violations and shit,” he said, then looked at William. “You’re not going to believe this, but they filed federal child labor charges because William was at the site. I told them to fuck off and handle it in court. Wish I would’ve just gone up there now.”

Just then, Buck’s radio went off. “This is unit eleven for the sheriff.”

“This is the sheriff,” Buck said grabbing his radio.

“Sheriff, I just left the logging site, but the only things there are two log trailers and a shit load of logs.”

Buck looked at Sonya as he pressed the talk switch. “Eleven, are you sure? Did you look over the entire area?”

“Sheriff, I walked the landing, but it’s going to take some time for me to search this valley. Hell, I have to get four miles away just to get radio signal back. Unit four is still up there looking.”

“Sonya, did Joshua say anything about moving the bodies?” Buck asked.

“Sonya, don’t answer that,” Ralph said looking at Buck. “You’ve heard her story Buck.”

“God damn it Ralph! If he tampered with the scene, it’s really hard to call it ‘justifiable homicide’.”

“Ralph,” Sonya said, looking at him with a nod. “Buck, Joshua said he left those bodies and was leaving. He told his crew to leave them where they lay.”

Giving a sigh of relief, Buck was about to use the radio when it went off again. “Unit eleven to Sheriff, we have a state trooper here that is heading up to the site.”

“They know now,” Buck said pressing the mic. “Unit eleven, let him pass.”

“Uh, sheriff, he’s in a patrol car. I almost got stuck in my 4x4.”

“If he wants to go up it’s on him, but tell him we aren’t coming to get his ass if he gets stuck.”

“Buck,” William said in a low voice and Ralph looked at him with a hard stare. “They don’t park the trucks by the landing.”

“You know where?” Buck asked.

“Buck, he’s a kid,” Ralph said. Buck just looked at Ralph with a sigh and Ralph nodded at William.

“About two hundred yards to the west, near the trees where those two streams meet,” William said.

Nodding at William and Ralph, Buck pressed the mic. “Eleven, go back to the site and look two hundred yards to the west where the two streams meet.”

“Copy, state is going to wait here beside the highway,” Eleven called back.

Dropping his hand off the radio, Buck looked at Ralph. “Ralph, he’s my friend too. Hell, we go fishing all the time together. If it happened like Joshua said, I’ll stand beside him no matter what, but if he murdered them, I have to do my duty.”

“Do you hear yourself Buck?” Sonya snapped. “This is Joshua you’re talking about. He’s done nothing but help. Last year when your deputy’s house burnt down, Joshua pulled his crew up there, cleaned the area, and helped him build a new one in two weeks. Did he charge anyone for that?”

Throwing up his hands, Buck took a step back. “Sonya, I can’t see Joshua being a murderer, but I’m the law and have to be impartial. Joshua would understand.”

“So if it happened like Joshua said, you’re not going to arrest him?” she asked.

“Nope, that will be for the county prosecutor to decide and the grand jury.”

“Afraid not Buck,” Ralph said making both turn to him. “This is a federal case. They are in charge.”

“In my jurisdiction,” Buck snapped.

“The Patriot Act supersedes your jurisdiction. Federal law enforcement can operate independently in the sovereign US.”

“State law says otherwise,” Buck said. “They must notify and have state law enforcement with them.”

“That is a courtesy Buck. Federal law says they don’t have to. Then you have to realize, this is taking part on federal land. They are over you.”

“Bullshit,” Buck yelled. “I’m the elected official here, not some pencil pusher from Washington.”

“Buck, you need to talk to Stanley and make sure you don’t cross boundaries because in this, Joshua was right, they will get you,” Ralph said calmly.

Buck yanked out his phone, almost punching the screen to call the station. “Debbie, call the prosecutor’s office and tell Stanley to meet me in my office in one hour,” Buck almost yelled into the phone. “I don’t care what the fuck he’s doing! You tell Stanley to get his ass to my office in one hour!”

“Buck, you need to calm down,” Sonya said reaching over and patting his arm. “You’ve had one heart attack, you don’t need another.”

Taking a deep breath, Buck let it out slowly then looked at Sonya. “Let me drop you off at the house, then I’m heading to the station.”

Ralph picked up his phone punching numbers, “I’ll get my partners and meet you there.”

Chapter Five

It was five in the morning and Buck jolted awake as the SUV bounced over a rock. They’d found the bodies right where William said they parked the trucks. A crime scene had been set up and his investigator was out there, along with the state police investigator. He notified the FBI and Homeland and found out they had a command center set up in Coeur d’Alene, but would be moving it soon.

“You alright sheriff?” his deputy asked.

“I’m fine Cory. Just tired.”

“Sir, Mr. Anderson would never shoot someone unless he felt threatened.”

“I know Cory, but we are the law and must wait for the facts,” Buck said. “They get the relay set up yet?”

“Yes sir, about an hour ago,” Cory said as Buck pulled out his cellphone.

Tapping the screen as he yawned, he pulled the phone to his ear. “Hey Buck,” a man answered.

“Hey Duane, so what has my investigator found out?”

“Three males shot between the eyes,” Duane said. “Have to say, not only are you talking excellent marksmanship but damn, you would have to be fast.”

“I’m almost there, I have the statements so meet me,” Buck said and hung up before Duane answered. He had sat in on all eight interviews and read all eight statements and unless the crime scene said otherwise, Joshua was innocent. It was self-defense. There were only small variations from each person in each statement, but each one read the same. Buck knew the guys would lean toward Joshua, but it was near impossible to get eight almost identical stories.

Ralph had let him question the men after the statements; Buck had done that enough to know they were telling the truth. He also knew they were lying about what happened to the equipment that was supposed to be at the site. But that equipment wasn’t reported stolen, and as far as he was concerned, not his business.

Topping the rise, he saw the area lit up like a football field with the portable tower lights. “Glad he didn’t move them,” Buck mumbled, remembering the Claude Dallas incident in the eighties as Cory drove them over to the other SUVs and trucks.

“What sheriff?” Cory asked parking.

“Nothing, Cory,” Buck said getting out and Duane was walking over.

“Hey Buck,” he said handing Buck his notebook. “Looks like a coyote came down, but only chewed on one. Other than that, the scene was pristine.”

Buck took his notebook and handed over a manila folder. “These are the eyewitness statements. Do a quick read and tell me what you think.” Nodding, Duane opened the folder and moved over to get under one of the massive work lights.

Opening the notebook, Buck moved over to the crime scene to see three covered corpses. “Someone uncover them please,” he said as he started reading Duane’s notes.

“And you are?” a man asked in as snotty voice as he walked up.

“Sheriff Harper. Now you go uncover the fucking bodies before I arrest you,” Buck said without looking up.

“I’m Special Investigator Brad Johnson with the state police, you will not address me like that.”

“Someone arrest this cocksucker for interfering with the sheriff and uncover those bodies!” Buck yelled, but still didn’t stop reading.

Brad turned to see three deputies walking toward him and pulling out handcuffs. “I’m a senior investigator with the state police, you can’t do this.”

With a headache that could kill a buffalo, Buck finally looked up at Brad. “I’m the big dick, act cocky with me again and I promise, you will see the inside of my jail. Now, go uncover those bodies.”

Ducking under the crime scene tape, Brad ran over to remove the sheets as Cory walked over to the sheriff with his handcuffs out. “Sir, you still want me to detain him?”

“Not yet, but if he acts like an ass again, you can haul his ass in,” Buck said reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose hard, silently begging for his headache to ease up.

“You alright sheriff?” Cory asked putting his handcuffs away.

“Headache,” Buck said. “Will you see if anyone has some ibuprofen?”

Cory laughed, “I have some in my rig sir, and some coffee, if you’re interested.”

Buck looked up at the young deputy and forced a grin. “Thank you Cory. That would be great.”

As Cory left, Buck read through the notes then flipped to the drawings. Looking at the bodies, he ducked under the tape and moved closer. The two feds were sprawled out. One had his gun in his hand and the others’ guns were right beside them on the ground. He looked over at Wayne with a grimace and noticed his gun was beside him and saw where the coyote had chewed on his left hand.

Looking up, he saw the blue cover of a thick bound stack of papers he knew was a forestry sale contract. He had lived here all his life and had even worked on logging crews when he was younger. “He shot three men who had guns out? Damn, that’s fast,” Buck mumbled. “Maybe I need to do some old west shoots and some three gun.”

Cory came over with some pills and a cup of coffee and Buck fought the urge to promote him on the spot. Swallowing the pills with a sip of coffee, Buck nodded at Cory. “Thank you.” Grinning, Cory ducked under the crime scene tape, leaving the sheriff.

It was just after six when Duane came over and found Buck walking around the bodies. Feeling much better, Buck looked up as Duane ducked under the tape. “Well, what do you think?” Buck asked.

“The scene is consistent with the statements,” Duane said. “Every one of the eyewitness statements said Joshua threw the contract to Wayne like a distraction as the three drew down on him, then pulled his gun out of his truck and shot them.”

“Yeah, but I found out we can’t present it to the grand jury. The feds have the case,” Buck said looking at the guns near the two men and one still holding his. “Sonya told me what Joshua had told her, and she never said they had their guns out.”

“Buck, that’s second hand information. We have eight who said they were here and we have the evidence on the ground. Only one set of boot prints were near the body and they’re Carhartt’s. The same boots Joshua wears and they look to be his size. I know, Alex is on his crew and is my cousin. I’ve visited him a few times on other jobs when they were close,” Duane said.

“Joshua is damn lucky he got them before they shot him,” Buck said closing Duane’s notebook.

“Buck,” Duane said lowering his voice. “In the feds truck, I found their documentation of the violations and they are shit. I found one of the ‘Green zone’ infractions and it’s a skidder tire track. It’s over forty feet from the stream.”

“I know,” Buck said looking around and saw the huge pile of stacked logs at the landing. “Ben told me and gave me pictures of the unmarked trees that were cut down, and even I know they were safety tree cuts. You’d be hard pressed to find someone around here who didn’t know what a widow maker tree was.”

“I also found Wayne’s field notebook in his SUV. He was at a meeting outlining the takedown. Holy shit, you wouldn’t believe the shit he wrote down,” Duane said glancing around to make sure that nobody could hear.

Buck scoffed. “Oh yes I would, Wayne hated Joshua like it was almost holy. That boy wasn’t right in the head. That’s why he doesn’t work for any department around here and got hired on by the state. They didn’t know him.”

“Buck, I know that, but you should see the shit Wayne wrote. He’s the one who demanded that CPS be brought in to take William away. They are serving warrants to do that at nine a.m. today.”

“I have a car at Joshua’s house and some deputies photographing it. Unlike this scene, that one is not on federal land and the county prosecutor has already filed to block them from disturbing that scene.”

“Buck, they are the feds,” Duane said in a lower voice.

“Doesn’t matter. The house is in Sonya’s name, along with the three acres it sits on. Oh, I’ll share what we find, but they are barred from the house.”

“What about the shop? It’s just on the other side of the land,” Duane asked seeing the state investigator coming.

Shaking his head, Buck sighed. “Stanley couldn’t get the judge to block that, it’s in Joshua’s name.”

“Buck, if they take everything in the shop, even if Joshua can get out of this, he’s done,” Duane said looking over at the landing. “Hell, someone already took his heavy equipment.”

“Not our concern. Stanley said it hasn’t been reported stolen, so we can’t look for it,” Buck grinned looking over at Duane. “Besides, the shop is empty. Don’t know how and Sonya refused to file a report, so it’s not stolen.”

Duane grinned as Brad walked up. “So sheriff, any leads on the murder?” Brad asked. “I heard you have eyewitnesses.”

“Oh, I do,” Buck said and pointed at the three bodies. “There are your murders, the man who committed self-defense took off, in case they sent more.”

Brad stepped back gasping. “These were brother law enforcement officers.”

“Not mine,” Buck said narrowing his eyes.

Turning around, Brad pointed at Wayne’s body. “He was an Idaho State Trooper, not some federal officer.”

“Brad, Wayne Morgan was not right in the head. He hated Joshua Anderson because Joshua’s dad fired his dad because he was a drunk that almost killed two men on one of his logging sites. Everyone that knows Wayne, knows that for a fact. Hell, I’ve filed two reprimands to his captain about harassing Joshua because Joshua wouldn’t. Joshua felt sorry for Wayne because his dad was a no good drunk,” Buck said putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, a jury will just have to decide that, won’t they?” Brad said lifting his chin and walking away.

Watching Brad walk away, Buck felt really old, even though he wasn’t much older than Joshua. As Brad ducked under the crime scene tape, Cory ran toward them and jumped it. He skidded to a halt panting. “Sheriff,” he barked out loudly and Buck motioned with his hand for Cory to lower his voice. “Sheriff, the feds are on their way and should be here in half an hour,” he said in a low voice. “Dispatch said they wanted all crime scene data and for everyone to leave the scene alone.”

“Thank you Cory,” Buck said motioning him away and turned to Duane. “Duane, I want you to get all your evidence and haul ass to the station and make copies, understand?”

A grin split Duane’s face. “Sure Buck. You want them to get the originals or copies?”

“Copies,” Buck said looking at the bodies. “It’s still chain of evidence data. I have a strange feeling that anything that points to saying it was self-defense is going to get lost. I want you to ease away, but make sure you have all the evidence.”

“You got it boss,” Duane said walking away. “I was first on scene, so Brad over there has only been copying my notes. Everything but the bodies has been bagged and tagged, including what was in their pockets and vehicles.”

“Duane, make sure you get copies of their phones’ data, I’m sure they will be able to get those.”

“Oh yeah,” Duane grinned. “I’ll even get a download on that laptop out of their SUV.”

Buck watched Duane trot over to his SUV, close the back hatch and then jump in. “Where’s Duane going?” Brad yelled out, standing on the other side of the crime scene.

“Running an errand for me,” Buck said walking under the tape. “Cover the bodies till the feds get here, Brad.”

Brad grabbed the sheets and went over to the bodies as Buck went over to stand with Cory who was talking with two other deputies while another deputy photographed an area near the stream. Buck stopped and looked, realizing it was where heavy equipment had crossed because logs were in the stream. “What’s he doing?” Buck asked, walking up to the group.

“He’s photographing the infractions the feds were coming out for,” one of them said and Cory turned to Buck.

“Duane told him to get pictures and Brett is up the valley with some of the crime scene guys, photographing other infractions,” Cory said in a low voice as Brad ran up.

“Sheriff, you need to call Duane back. He has the evidence in the back of his Suburban.” Brad said panting.

“Like I said, Duane is running an errand for me. He’ll be back,” Buck said.

Brad shook his head, “The feds are going to want that evidence here.”

“Hey, I don’t give a shit, they don’t sign my paycheck. The citizens of Bonner County do, Brad. Now, go bother someone else,” Buck snapped and Brad trotted over to several state troopers talking.

Looking at the two deputies Cory was talking to, Buck stepped over and spoke in a low voice. “You two, go to the rest of our guys and tell them to change out the cards on their cameras now. I want those back at the station. Don’t use your radios, and tell them not to make a big scene about changing those cards. I don’t want the world to know. Now casually go and tell them.”

The two deputies nodded and walked off as Cory stepped closer to the sheriff. “Sir, I talked to those troopers over there and both of them knew Wayne,” he said timidly. “They both said they weren’t surprised he got shot. It seems Wayne wasn’t one to not tell people he didn’t like Mr. Anderson.”

“Son,” Buck said looking at Cory. “I know you’re only twenty-two, but I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“Yes sir, my dad told me,” Cory said glancing at the troopers. “They said they didn’t like Wayne getting shot, but weren’t surprised.”

“Start your rig up,” Buck said walking over to the SUV. “I’m freezing and I’m going to catch a nap till the feds get here and throw me off this mountain. Wake me when they pass the roadblock at the bottom.”

“Yes sir,” Cory said running past him to the SUV.

Feeling like he’d just dozed off, Buck opened his eyes as Cory shook him. “Sir, they just passed the roadblock,” Cory said when Buck cracked his eyes open.

Blinking his eyes, Buck looked at the clock on the dash and saw it was just past eight. “Cory, you wouldn’t have any more coffee, would you?”

“Yes sir, three thermoses full,” Cory grinned.

“If you don’t mind, would you get me a cup before I get pissed off?”

“Yes sir,” Cory said reaching in the back seat. “Sheriff, I put the cards from the cameras on the console.”

Looking down at the console, Buck saw a stack of small memory cards. He grabbed them and put them in his pocket as Cory handed over a full coffee cup. “Good man,” Buck said taking a sip. He pulled out his phone and made a few calls, then climbed out.

He saw the crime scene crew talking with a few of his deputies. “Crime scene, you’re relieved. Head on to the station and start your reports,” Buck said and they moved off climbing in several vehicles. The other deputies looked at him, hoping Buck would send them down the mountain. “The rest of you are staying with me. We will be leaving soon enough.”

Several nodded as others stomped their feet in the snow, trying to stay warm. It wasn’t long before a line of SUVs pulled into the valley. “The circus is here,” Buck said and several of his deputies laughed. Buck stopped counting after seven and more were still turning in. “How many people does it take for the feds to process a crime scene?”

“Sheriff, Timmy is manning the roadblock and called me saying another ten SUVs, a bunch of vans and one RV with Homeland painted on the side are headed toward Lamb Creek,” one of the deputies said.

“Whew,” Buck said with his eyes getting big. “Alright boys, they now outnumber us, but none of you better act like a pussy.”

Several of the deputies snickered looking at the lone female deputy. “My dick is bigger than any of yours,” she said.

“Leave Maggie alone before she pulls it out and shames us all,” Buck said as the feds started climbing out and Buck shook his head; most were wearing suits. Brad ran over like a kid seeing a group of rock stars. It wasn’t long before Brad moved over to one man, and Buck knew he was the one in charge from Brad’s reaction. When Brad pointed over at him, Buck turned his coffee cup up, grimacing from the heat.

As the man walked over with an entourage, Buck’s first impression was that he didn’t like him. “Sheriff Joey Harper,” the man said and held up an ID. “Special Agent in Charge Timothy Burrows, FBI.”

“Agent Burrows,” Buck said tilting his head and thought he recognized one of the faces in Burrows entourage, and he didn’t like that.

“I’m told your lead investigator has left the scene with the bagged evidence,” Timothy said putting his ID away.

“He’s running an errand for me,” Buck said reaching back to put the coffee cup on Cory’s SUV.

“I’m afraid I need you to tell him to return to the scene immediately.”

“I don’t take orders Agent Burrows, and my men only follow my orders,” Buck said turning around ready for the pissing match, glad he had talked to Stanley.

“Sorry sheriff, but you’re mistaken. We are commandeering your men here to hold the crime scene and my team in town will be requiring more for the search for the fugitive.”

“Oh no Agent Burrows, it’s you who are mistaken. You can’t commandeer any of my men without my approval and I don’t have to give it unless ordered to do so by the governor. I’ve called him and he has no intention of doing that,” Buck said with a grin.

Burrows frowned, “I would think you would want to do whatever was necessary to catch a cop killer.”

“I’ve interviewed the witnesses and looked over the crime scene. It looks like your boys came here for an execution.”

“Those men were professionals,” Burrows spat out. “They didn’t deserve to be shot.”

“So if it would’ve gone the other way and we were standing over Joshua Anderson’s body, you would believe they were justified?”

“Of course,” Burrows growled.

“I rest my case,” Buck said. “After my errand, I’ll send my investigator over with the evidence.”

“Very well,” Burrows said narrowing his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re on federal property and I must ask you to leave.”

“Just waiting on you to get your ass here,” Buck said glancing at his deputies and nodding. “Agent Burrows, just to let you know, the sheriff’s department has declared the house of Sonya Anderson a crime scene, and you are barred from it. We will be happy to share evidence with you, of course.”

Burrows turned and motioned one of the others closer and whispered to him. “Sheriff, where is all the equipment that was here?” the man he’d recognized in the entourage asked.

“And you are?” Buck asked.

“Ronald Gifford, Regional Forester,” he said and Buck realized he had seen him on TV.

Shrugging, Buck said. “Have no idea, the only thing here are those two logging trailers.”

“That’s over a million dollars of equipment and you don’t know?!” Ronald shouted.

“Ronald, you’re raising your voice to the sheriff of Bonner County, and I can take that as a threat to a police officer,” Buck said and his deputies moved over toward him.

Ronald looked at the other men around him and none were offering any help. “I’m sorry, but that’s a lot of equipment,” he finally said.

“Well, it doesn’t belong to the Forestry Service, so I don’t see your concern. It belonged to a private business.”

Lifting his arm, Ronald glanced at his watch. “It will be in half an hour, and I want it found.”

Smiling, Buck turned and opened the door to the SUV. “Sorry Ronald. Your warrant said seizure of equipment at the shop and sale site. The trailers over there are here, so I guess you can seize them. You might get a few grand,” Buck said looking over his shoulder and Agent Burrows stepped up.

“Sheriff, the house you spoke of was the residence of one Joshua Anderson and is being seized by the IRS, so I must ask your men to leave.”

Laughing, Buck turned around. “No, Agent Burrows, the house in question doesn’t belong to Joshua Anderson, and the county prosecutor filed with a judge last night to block the seizure.”

“We’ll see about that,” he snapped.

“Oh, you can try, but even the attorney general agreed with the prosecutor. Now the shop belongs to Joshua, so you can have at it,” Buck said turning around climbing in the SUV.

“There is still a lot of equipment there,” Ronald said looking at several of the other men. “More so than here, I stopped by there after I left here on Monday.”

“Guess you haven’t been there recently,” Buck said with the door open as he pushed the button to lower the window. “Someone cleaned it out.”

In awe, Buck watched Ronald’s face change three different colors ending in purple. As Ronald opened his mouth, one of the men beside him grabbed his wrist. “I’m disappointed we don’t have your cooperation sheriff,” Agent Burrows almost growled.

Shutting his door, Buck looked at Burrows through the open window. “Oh, you do, Agent Burrows, as long as it’s law enforcement, not entrapment, deception of truth and falsification of evidence against an outstanding member of the community.”

“Good day, sheriff,” Burrows said and spun around, running into his entourage and shoving some of them out of the way.

“Agent Burrows, a word of advice,” Buck said rolling up the window. “Don’t wear a three-piece suit and dress shoes up in the mountains.” Next to Buck, Cory snickered as he put the SUV in gear. “Cory, let the guys lead us out.”

“Yes sir,” Cory said and called over the radio, telling the others he was going to follow. “Sir, you think they realize Maggie’s rig is pulling the trailer with the relay for radio and cellphone?”

“They will shortly,” Buck said as Cory followed them out. The other SUVs were pulling the powered construction lights, so Buck wasn’t leaving any county property in a federal investigation area.

Halfway back to the road, Buck grinned looking at the side of the road. “You keep all the gear in this search and rescue rig up to code?” he asked glancing over at Cory.

“Yes sir,” Cory said almost offended. All new officers had to start on the search and rescue patrol Suburbans. They had a ton of equipment in them that had to be inventoried weekly and inspected, so they got pushed to the lowest member of the department.

“Stop here, please,” Buck said grabbing his door handle. When Cory stopped, Buck got out, hitting the unlock button and walked to the back of the SUV, opening the hatch. Wondering what Buck was doing, Cory put the SUV in park and got out.

Walking up the embankment, Buck yanked the cord on the chainsaw he’d got from the rig. Anyone driving on back roads in the Northwest carried a chainsaw with them. Trees fell over on roads all the time and there was no going around them. Cory laughed as Buck walked up to a nice size pine, and knelt down revving the saw up.

It didn’t take long and soon the big tree fell down behind the SUV across the road and Cory was impressed with the speed Buck had done it. Shutting down the chainsaw, Buck walked back over, putting it back and strapping it down. “You’re damn right, this gear is good. That chain is so sharp, I swear it was cutting the tree an inch away,” Buck said closing the hatch.

Cory was laughing quietly as Buck headed back to the passenger door and climbed in. Seeing the sheriff was done, he climbed in and continued down the mountain. “That tree looked dangerous Cory. I didn’t want it falling on any vehicles that drove past. You know, they shake the ground and make the tree fall,” Buck said with a straight face.

“Yes sir, happens a lot,” Cory snorted.

Buck glanced over, “But just the same, let’s keep this between you and me.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Cory snorted. “I only stopped so you could take a leak.”

“Good man,” Buck said looking out the front window. “Get me to the station in Sandpoint. Tell the others to stay near Lamb Creek, in case the feds try to muscle the captain.” His house was on Priest Lake just outside of Coolin, Idaho, just a few miles from Lamb Creek where Joshua lived. He had always wanted a house on that lake and he finally got one, then got elected sheriff, again, and had to find time to stay there now.

He had a small apartment in Sandpoint that he and the wife stayed at when work was hectic, but he loved his house on the lake. It was just luck that he wasn’t there and was able to get to Ralph’s office in Priest River. When Ralph had got ahold of him, Buck had been getting ready to head to his house and do some serious fishing. Even though he only knew Ralph from parties, he knew Joshua very well and like many around here, called Joshua a good friend.

“Weren’t you going fishing sir?” Cory asked when they hit the highway.

“That’s what I would be doing right now,” Buck said, calling his wife to check on Sonya and William.

Chapter Six

As Buck was cutting down a dangerous tree, Ben was riding in the passenger seat of Barbara’s car. She came and picked him up from the sheriff’s station in Sandpoint. He had to admit, Ralph and his partners were great lawyers. Since he’d had to use lawyers a few times in his life, Ben should know.

Barbara looked over at him as they rode north from Sandpoint, not the way home. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Pull over up here,” Ben said pointing at a small dirt road.

“Are you going to meet Joshua?” she asked with worry.

“Hell no,” Ben said as she pulled off the road. “I’m checking on something for him though.”

“Ben, you can’t fight the feds,” Barbara said as he opened his door.

Looking over at her, Ben started having second thoughts about Barbara. You don’t turn your back on a buddy. “I’m not fighting the feds, but he asked me to keep an eye on his family. They threatened to kill them Barbara. I was there and heard it with my own ears.”

“You have a family now,” she said with sad eyes.

“And if that was me, Joshua would be looking out for you and Sammy. You expect me not to keep an eye on his?”

Barbara forced a smile, “No and if you didn’t, I wouldn’t love you, but please be careful.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be home this evening. I have to have someone keep an eye out on his mother and call me if they see something. This isn’t an outstanding member of the community, but he owes me a favor,” Ben said getting out. “If anyone asks, say I’m at Bonners Ferry drinking with some friends.”

“Anyone that knows you will believe that,” Barbara laughed.

With a serious face, Ben stared at her. “Barbara, you have to believe what I just told you or they will know. You dropped me off here south of Colburn, and I got in a tan truck and headed north. You saw the guy driving the truck had long gray hair, but you didn’t know him.”

Closing her eyes, Barbara repeated what he said, then opened her eyes to look at him. “I will hon,” she smiled. “I’ve been bad a few times myself, I can do that.”

“I know, that’s why I love ya,” Ben grinned. “Tell Sammy I’ll help him fix his four-wheeler when I get home.”

Barbara leaned over puckering her lips and Ben kissed her. “He’ll be very happy about that,” she said getting back behind the steering wheel.

Shutting the door, he waited till she was out of sight before walking down the long driveway behind him that led to Joshua’s mother’s house. Mrs. Anderson was in her late eighties, but still sharp as a tack.

Ben smiled thinking about the interview with the police and was very glad he’d talked Gene into driving the loader over after the others were gone. Before they put the loader on the low boy trailer, Ben had climbed inside the grapple, laying down, and Gene extended the arm with Ben in the grapple over the three bodies and put the cops’ guns near the FBI guy’s hand, and in Wayne’s, and the Homeland guy’s hand. The damn arm on the loader was over thirty feet long and only Joshua’s prints were still in the snow.

“Can’t argue self-defense if they already had guns out,” Ben said with a smile but knew in his heart, those guys were going to shoot Joshua.

When they’d met at Gene’s after emptying the shop, Ben and Gene had convinced the others that the three already had pistols out. Chris was the only one that argued that Wayne was the only one who had his pistol out, but was finally convinced about the other two.

After Joshua had headed to his truck with Wayne following him, the crew had shut down the equipment to watch, and hearing the FBI and Homeland guys arguing, they started getting worried for Joshua. When the Homeland guy yelled at Joshua, Ben grabbed his ax and started to move toward the trucks.

He never realized the others were behind him until Joshua shot the feds. Everyone in the crew had grabbed a weapon to help out Joshua. And being Joshua, he was upset with them, but Ben never expected him not to be. Joshua always looked out for people and didn’t want others to be put back helping him.

Shaking his head and getting back to the here and now, Ben was over a hundred yards away from the house when Mrs. Anderson stepped out on the porch. “No sneaking up on her,” Ben said, waving and breaking into a trot.

When he reached the yard, she smiled at him. “Ben, what are you doing here?” Then she saw his serious face. “Is Joshua alright?”

“Yes, but we need to talk Mrs. Anderson.”

Feeling her legs get weak, she stepped back to one of the rocking chairs and sat down as Ben came up on the porch. He had known Mrs. Anderson as long as he had known Joshua and knew she still saw him as the little boy spending the night.

Sitting down beside her, Ben explained what had happened and what had been done, but left out him and Gene moving the guns. That would stay with them alone until they died. When he’d finished, she had tears coming out of her eyes. “Mrs. Anderson, they will be coming here soon.”

“I’ll get my God damn gun!” she shouted getting up. “Try and kill my boy? I’ll murder all the sorry bastards!”

Ben’s mouth fell open never recalling her ever swearing, but remembered a few spankings from her because he and Joshua had cussed and she had heard it. “Mrs. Anderson, don’t,” he said as she reached the front door, and he had no doubt she was heading for a gun. “Sandy and William are going to need you because Joshua is hiding. You know a lot of people, and need to get the word out about what the feds did.”

“I’m shooting the bastards when they drive up in my God damn yard!”

“Mrs. Anderson, please, Joshua couldn’t take that,” Ben begged.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Okay, but I’m not taking shit from them!”

“That’s okay, but if you have some friends, I would invite them over so you have witnesses,” Ben said raising one eyebrow. “Like how they accosted an innocent man’s elderly mother.”

“I’ll call my sewing circle,” she said opening the door.

“Mrs. Anderson,” Ben said grabbing her arm. “I can’t be here and you can’t tell them I was here. Now, I need you to remember that they will be tapping your phone, so never mention it, not even to Sonya or William.”

“Those assholes!”

“I’m sure they aren’t tapped yet, but they will be,” Ben said hoping to stop her from grabbing the gun anyway. “I’m taking the BMW so they don’t know about it, okay?”

The anger left her face hearing that and she reached over patting his cheek. “You do that dear,” she smiled. “I cranked it up a few days ago. You need any money for gas?”

“No ma'am,” he said as she hugged him.

“Don’t get in trouble or Joshua will be cross with you,” she said kissing his cheek. “You were always a good boy.”

“Thank you,” he said releasing his hug. “I need to get going, you don’t have long. I just left the sheriff’s department and the feds are here.”

“Is Joey part of this? Helping them frame my boy?” she snapped with fire returning to her eyes.

“No ma'am. He’s helping Joshua.”

“He damn well better or I’ll call his mom and she can spank his butt,” she said grabbing the door. “Ben, you get. I’ll be okay.”

When she went inside, Ben ran around the house to the carport out back. He saw the 1986 BMW 325e, still a glossy black and in immaculate condition. Yanking open the door, he hopped in and got the keys from the center console and fired it up. Only letting the engine warm for a few seconds, he backed out and took off.

Reaching the highway, he slowed to the speed limit and headed toward Washington. A few hours later, he was pulling past Browns Lake in Washington and parked the car at a spot that hikers used. Getting out, he walked over to a massive ugly gray and green boulder and put the keys under it, covering them with some rocks.

Breaking into a jog, he called a friend that lived in Cusick and told him to pick him up. Ben didn’t have to worry about his friend; he hated cops of any kind. The people in eastern Washington were nothing like those on the coast. They wanted to be left alone and expected everyone to work for what they wanted.

Meeting his friend several miles from where he’d parked the car, Ben told him what had happened. Every one of the crew had told at least two other people, and with the exception of Mrs. Anderson, those two told several more. Before the day was over, Mrs. Anderson had told over a hundred.

***

While Ben was on the way home, Buck was sitting at his desk looking at his phone, daring the damn thing to ring again. Stanley, the county prosecutor walked in and saw the death look on Buck’s face as he stared at the phone. “You can’t kill people over the phone Buck. Lord knows I’ve wanted to and tried punching the numbers, hoping the tone would rupture their brain,” he said sitting down in a chair on the other side of the desk.

“I just got off the phone with our congressman, telling me to cooperate with the feds. He told me, not asked me,” Buck said looking up at Stanley.

“Yeah, had both call me, but they just suggested.”

“You get a chance to look at Duane’s report?” Buck asked opening a drawer and pulling out a bottle of water.

“Oh yeah,” Stanley said raising his eyebrows. “Eight eyewitnesses and all the evidence supports their testimony. Shit, our grand jury wouldn’t indict. Hell, I would be hard pressed to even present it.”

“So you come over to cheer me up?”

“I wish,” Stanley sighed. “They will be here soon, so I figured I should be here with you.”

Turning up the bottle, taking a long drink, Buck sat it down on his desk. “Stanley, I wouldn’t shoot them in my office. You are going to be there at the press conference, right?”

Stanley smiled, “Yes, I’ll be at the conference and I know you wouldn’t shoot them in your office, Buck,” he said with a wink. “But they are very pissed that I blocked the repossession of Sonya Anderson’s house, which they have no right to take. It was her house that she inherited from her grandmother before they were married and was paid off. It also seems Sonya withdrew all their money from the bank yesterday, along with the safe deposit box.”

“Just shows you that crew of Joshua’s were telling the truth, those guys were goading him to do something, so they could shoot a crazy Idaho logger.”

Getting serious, Stanley dropped his smile. “Buck, you can’t stop them from searching for Joshua. If you try, they can bring charges against you.”

“I know, but I don’t have to help.”

“True, but how far are you going to take this? They can make our lives hell,” Stanley said.

Putting the cap on the bottle of water, Buck looked over at Stanley. “He’s innocent, you know it and I know it. To answer your question, as far as I legally can.”

Holding up his hands, Stanley nodded. “I’m with you Buck, but I’m sure you know, they are going to throw money around during the next election and I’m sure we will both be out of a job.”

“Need to do more fishing anyway,” Buck said as his secretary came in.

“Sheriff, you have a Special Agent Burrows and Homeland Agent Griffey here for you,” she said.

“Show them in,” Buck said getting up and moving to a long conference table with Stanley.

When he turned to the door, Agent Burrows was almost charging him. “Some asshole cut a tree down blocking us in!” he bellowed as another man in a suit walked in casually.

“Lower your voice,” Buck said calmly. “If I remember correctly, you told me to leave. When I leave, my deputies leave.”

“I had to stay up there for three hours until some hick showed up with a chainsaw to clear the road!”

“Sounds to me like that ‘hick’ was a pretty good guy,” Buck said feeling his pulse rise.

“Agent Burrows,” the other man said stepping in front of him, then turned to Buck. “Homeland Agent in Charge, Steven Griffey,” he said extending his hand. Buck shook it and introduced Stanley. “Does the county prosecutor always stay at the sheriff’s office?”

“Only during shit storms,” Stanley said with a forced smile shaking Griffey's hand.

“I was under the impression you would want to apprehend a murderer that gunned down a state officer along with two federal agents,” Griffey said moving to the other end of the table and sitting down.

Pulling back his chair, Buck sat down. “You read the witness statements and the initial crime scene report?”

“Yes, but I’m waiting on our report,” Griffey smiled. “No offense, but our agencies are far better at doing this than yours.”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that,” Buck said leaning back in his chair. “So, you read those statements and reports and still refer to Mr. Anderson as a murderer, not suspect or anything else?”

“I read eight eyewitness reports that said he pulled the trigger.”

Blown away, Buck looked down in his lap. “Holy shit,” Buck mumbled then looked down the table at Griffey. “You don’t see any reason Mr. Anderson had to defend himself?”

“No one has the right to fire on a federal officer for any reason. As you know, not one of our officers has ever been charged,” Griffey smiled. “You may allow that for your officers, but we don’t allow that for ours.”

“None of my officers would’ve gone out to execute someone.”

Still wearing the smile, Griffey leaned over the table. “That was just our agents wearing the suspect down to get information, we would never hurt a man’s family.”

“Beg to differ sir,” Buck said and Stanley yanked out a chair sitting down glaring at Buck.

Burrows pulled out a chair looking at Griffey, “Sir, may I continue?”

“Yes, but please, in a calm voice.”

Burrows turned to Buck. “Your officers were called to the house of the murderer’s mother and interfered with our search. Two of my men were hit by old hags with canes and walkers, but your deputies did nothing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Buck slowly stood up. “Sir,” he growled at Burrows. “One of those old hags was my ninety-two-year-old mother-in-law and you better watch it. That was a sewing circle that makes quilts for the kids at the children’s hospital in Spokane.”

“My apologies,” Burrows said, seeing Buck was really pissed off. “But my men were assaulted.”

“One of your men was shoving a woman using a walker and made her fall. Hell, if I would’ve been there, I’d have shot ‘em. She broke her hip, sir, and had to be transferred to Coeur d’Alene,” Buck said in a cold voice.

Stanley stood up looking down the table. “I have the agent’s name and charges have been filed.”

Griffey nodded and his smile seemed to turn colder. “Oh, I’m sorry, but Agent Wade had to fly back to Washington. I’ve notified the Attorney General and he assures me all charges will be dropped after reading the reports. He is a federal agent, therefore falls under federal guidelines under the National Defense Act.”

“My God man, Ethel is eighty-nine years old. Your man probably killed her!” Buck shouted.

With a slight shrug, “There seems to be a lesson here then,” Griffey said finally dropping the smile to a grin. “Don’t interfere with us. I assure you gentlemen, we will get our man. I have over a thousand agents heading this way, and more if I need them.”

Hearing that number, Stanley dropped in his chair. “You don’t even know if he’s still here?”

“True, but I have one of the best coming, and I will interview every person who knows Joshua Anderson and I’ll find him,” Griffey said and his cold smile returned. “We’ve taken over several resorts near the town of Nordman.”

“You can’t do that, it’s the start of tourist season,” Stanley said thinking about the owners.

“Oh we can, my men have served the judge’s ruling. We will pay them their basic rate or they can deal with the IRS and we will just seize them,” Griffey said with his smile turning back into a grin. “It’s perfectly legal, since you aren’t helping catch our murderer.”

“You want to catch Joshua?” Buck asked and Griffey nodded slightly. “Pull your guys out and he will show up in a month or two. I’ll bring him in and Stanley can present his case to the grand jury.”

“Oh no,” Griffey said. “I have it on good authority, Mr. Anderson will soon be listed as a terrorist and enemy combatant, and rest assured if he stands trial, it will be on the east coast, not here.”

“This meeting is finished,” Stanley said standing up. “A word of caution, gentleman. The people around here don’t kneel down so well.”

Griffey stood up and pulled his jacket closed, “Yes, I see. That’s why little old ladies get broken hips.”

Buck and Stanley watched them walk out and Stanley turned to Buck. “They’re going to kill Joshua. In the field or in court, but they mean to kill him.”

“Oh my God,” Buck mumbled. “They are worse than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m going to call the governor and remind him about Ethel,” Stanley said walking out.

“Press conference in an hour,” Buck called after him and Stanley just waved. Buck hit the intercom on the phone. “Get Duane in here please.”

Feeling helpless, Buck dropped into his chair behind his desk and waited on Duane. When Duane came in, he was carrying a stack of papers. “Yeah Buck,” he said sitting down.

“I need you to tell all the lieutenants that all vacation is canceled and I want all volunteer officers to report for duty,” Buck said in a droning voice.

“What the hell is going on?”

“We’re going to have to stop the people of Bonner County from killing federal agents,” Buck said leaning over the desk. “When they find out what the feds are doing, many around here are going to grab guns and declare open season on any federal officer.”

Nodding, Duane said. “I heard what happened at Mrs. Anderson’s.”

“You don’t know the half of it. They took over the resorts on the west side of Priest Lake. They have a thousand agents heading here.”

“Buck, that will kill those places. Even if they pay sometime this year, those places make money on boat rentals and tours.”

“I know Duane, but they are going after Joshua.”

“Man, if Joshua heard that, he would turn himself in,” Duane said leaning back in his chair.

Shaking his head, Buck sighed. “Then you don’t know him very well. Joshua will give you the shirt off his back, but if you demand it, he’ll kick your ass.”

“Can you come to my office?” Duane asked and Buck jerked his head, looking at him. “Boss, they just left yours and after what I’ve found… Let’s just say, I want to make sure it’s for your ears only.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Buck said standing up.

Getting up, Duane headed for the door. “Say that after I tell you what I found.”

Following Duane, Buck started getting really worried about the feds. When they reached Duane’s office, he handed the papers he’d been carrying to Buck. “That is a list of what was in Joshua’s safety deposit box. Over a quarter of a million dollars in bonds, a coin collection worth a hundred grand and some jewelry, price unknown, but note: they have the carat weight of all the stones,” Duane said and Buck looked over the list.

“Yes, it’s his mother’s,” Buck said looking up. “How did they get this?”

“I talked to the bank and nobody has served a warrant and until yesterday, that box hasn’t been opened in over a year. They knew what Joshua was worth down to the penny, granted he’s in debt up to his ass, but he had very valuable assets. Buck, they started this for money, it’s plain and simple. Now it’s a quest to show others what happens when you stand against them.”

“And you got this off that laptop?” Buck asked and Duane nodded. “Our guys cracked it that fast. I would’ve thought it would take them longer to crack a government computer.”

“Ah, well, they said it was going to take a while, so I um, called my daughter,” Duane said in a low voice. “She broke in just under fifteen minutes.”

“Tell Scarlet thank you and I’ll write her a note,” Buck said looking at the printouts. “Is this other people they’ve gone after?”

“Ah yeah, sixty-two and all had small businesses. There’s another file that I haven’t printed that has sixteen larger businesses,” Duane said staring at Buck. “They’ve already taken down all of these and those businesses. All totaled, it’s just over a quarter of a billion dollars, not including the land they’ve seized. When you factor that in, I’m putting it closer to a billion. Buck, in those reports, there are nine other teams like this one, taking down businesses.”

“Oh shit,” Buck said feeling weak and falling back to the wall, Duane jumped to catch him.

“Yeah, busted my head when I fell back in my chair after I realized they are taking people’s money that can’t really fight. They are targeting smaller businesses that can’t call governors or congressmen.”

Buck handed Duane the papers. “I want you to make seven copies of that computer. Give one copy to Stanley. You take three and I’ll take three. I want you to give two copies to two separate people and don’t tell anyone who, not even me, understand?”

“Buck, this is shit like you see at the movies.”

“I wish,” Buck said looking at his watch. “You do that now. I have a press conference.”

Watching Buck leave his office, Duane started questioning his decision to go into law enforcement, then moved over to his desk to start making backups. When Buck walked into the press room, he froze on seeing the small room packed with reporters. “Sheriff, are you starting the report at five?” one shouted and he just nodded. “Thank you sir, because we’re going live.”

Stanley walked up behind him and whispered. “Yeah, I walked in and saw this and had to find a cigarette, and I haven’t smoked in eight years.”

Buck swallowed hard and moved to the front of the room as one of his deputies handed him his notes. Clearing his throat, “Good afternoon, for those that don’t know me, I’m Joey Harper, sheriff of Bonner County. Yesterday afternoon, a state patrol officer and two federal agents were shot southwest of the small community of Lamb Creek,” he said and a reporter shouted.

“Do you have a suspect?”

“We have a person of interest, but multiple eyewitnesses state the suspect fired in self-defense,” Buck said and the room became deathly quiet as shock set in. “Until we interview the person of interest, the county isn’t going forward with prosecution, but I’m told that Homeland has issued a warrant for our person of interest.”

Buck looked up from his notes to a sea of gaping mouths and for some mysterious reason, that was the last live broadcast of Sheriff Joey “Buck” Harper.

Chapter Seven

Hearing a knock on the door, Buck cracked his eyes open. “Yeah,” he groaned sitting up on the couch he had in his office. He had been up most of the night talking to people.

Duane walked in, “Hey Buck, I have those copies you wanted,” he said handing over three thumb drives.

Buck looked at the three thumb drives and then up at Duane. “That laptop fit on these little things?”

“Ah, yeah,” Duane said yawning.

Buck got off the couch, heading to his desk. “Then tell me, why in the hell the laptop has to be so big if it can fit on just one of these damn things?”

Taking a deep breath, Duane started going over in his mind just how to explain it. “Well, Buck, it has to have other stuff to run the monitor, power, sound and other stuff,” he said hoping that was enough.

“Shit, I remember when a computer took up half a room,” Buck said looking out his window seeing it was dawn and looked at his watch. “I said I wanted to be up at five, why was I still asleep at seven?”

Walking over and sitting down in a chair in front of the desk, Duane grinned. “Three people woke you up Buck, and I was one of them.”

Hitting the intercom on his desk, “Can I get some coffee?” Buck said and then released the button turning to Duane. “Well, what’s happened since I passed out last night?”

“I’m told the governor didn’t like your press conference,” Duane said pulling out a small notepad. “We’ve had like six calls from the feds demanding that you change your statement.”

“Shit on that,” Buck said dropping in his chair as a young woman brought in a large cup of coffee.

She sat the coffee mug on the desk. “You want some breakfast sheriff?” she asked stepping back.

“Please,” Buck sighed picking up the mug. “I really don’t give a rat’s ass what it is, as long as it’s eatable.”

When the woman left, Duane looked at Buck, “You’re going to have visitors again today Buck,” he said in a low voice. “Seems the feds don’t like the fact we gave them ‘copies’ of the evidence. They want everything we have.”

Seeing Duane glance around as he talked, Buck grinned. “I had some of the boys sweep the office and they didn’t find anything.”

“You may want to make that a daily routine,” Duane said looking down at his notes. “They are demanding to question all of the eyewitnesses, along with Sonya and William. I told them to contact their lawyers to set up times.”

“Bet that chapped their asses,” Buck chuckled as he blew on his coffee and Duane looked up with a grave face.

“Buck, they told me to give them the locations of the witnesses and they would pick them up,” Duane said shaking his head. “The homeland agent that called, point blank told me they weren’t being interrogated of a crime, so legal representation wasn’t required. In matters of national security, federal agents don’t have to allow for due process.”

Choking as he sipped his coffee, Buck pulled the hot liquid away from his lips. “You better be shitting me when you say that,” he said wiping his mouth.

Slowly shaking his head, Duane jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “They faxed over the executive orders, unclassified national security directives, and sections of the Patriot Act that clearly covers them. I have it on my desk.”

Jumping out of his chair, Buck shouted. “My God. Man! That’s KGB and Gestapo shit you’re talking about!”

Nodding as he raised his eyebrows, “Said almost the same thing and the fucker hung up on me,” Duane mumbled. “Then I questioned his manhood, saying he had a little dick. Don’t know if he heard that before he hung up.”

Mad as hell, Buck still had to grin at that. “Please tell me you called Stanley and told him.”

“Yes, and he will be here in a little bit.”

“Did you give them the locations of the crew and Sonya?” Buck said sitting back down.

“Ah, no, sorry,” Duane said looking at his notes. “I told them, to get information out of this office, they would have to clear it through you.”

“Well, what else?”

“You’ve had over a dozen calls from the owners of resorts and the hotel in Nordman about having to cancel all summer reservations because the feds took over their buildings. Seems the feds got the judge to say that they only had to pay off-season rates and no other compensation.”

Closing his eyes, Buck wanted to crawl under his desk. “Unfortunately, that is only the beginning.”

“Your wife called and said Mrs. Ethel died after surgery. She developed a blood clot that went to her lungs,” Duane said looking up with a hard face. “Stanley refused to present it to the grand jury, only leaving the charges pending on the homeland agent that pushed her down. He said it would be dismissed under the Supremacy Clause. A state can’t prosecute a federal agent for any reason if the agent is performing his appointed duty without malice. And Stanley said there is no way we would ever prove malice for pushing an old woman down. Oh, and that covers civil suits as well.”

“Motherfucker,” Buck mumbled looking away.

Flipping a page on his notepad, “Lt. Conner called three times last night, saying the feds went to Sonya’s house and demanded to be let in. They kept waving that warrant with Joshua’s name that lists him as primary owner. Conner called Stanley at ten last night and Stanley said they could be let in, but had to be escorted by a deputy, since that property isn’t on federal land and the sheriff’s department designated it a crime scene first. He spit out some legal mumbo jumbo to back it up,” Duane said looking up. “The feds refused to be led around by the hand and left.”

Picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip, “Bet that’s going to bite me in the ass,” Buck mumbled.

“Just to warn you, the IRS will be here when the feds come. They are pissed that the shop was empty and they can’t locate the equipment,” Duane said looking up from his notes. “They also want Sonya to turn over everything that she took out of the bank.”

“Hold that thought,” Buck said picking up the phone to call home. “Hey, sweetie,” he said when his wife answered. “Will you bring Sonya and William down here around ten?” Listening to her response, Buck cringed. “Babe, I’m not turning them over, but they want to talk to them and I’m going to let them. But only here in my office.”

Duane grinned as he listened to Buck. When Buck hung up, Duane shook his head, “Buck, we’ve had over two hundred phone calls since five this morning from people in the county demanding the feds leave. The operators told me it was averaging thirty calls an hour. Seems the entire county knows about Mrs. Ethel, along with what happened to Joshua.”

Setting down his mug, Buck sighed. “Sometimes, I wish I would’ve lost re-election.”

“Well Buck, you still have three years in office,” Duane said flipping a page on his notepad. “Sheriff Delgado from Kootenai County said he would be able to meet with you and Sheriff Figueroa from Boundary County this evening. Sheriff Delgado said you wouldn’t believe how many cargo planes are landing, offloading federal agents and supplies.”

A tap sounded at the door and the young woman came in carrying a tray of food and set it on the desk. “No Duane, I would believe it,” Buck said grabbing a fork and digging in. “You eat?”

“Yes sir,” Duane said shaking his head. “Buck, the feds have rented every car from here to Spokane and they have bought every van in the area from dealerships. They didn’t pay sticker price, of course, they signed them out at government purchase price. Luckily, we don’t have that many dealerships in Bonner County, but Sheriff Delgado is beyond pissed. Seems he’s had like a hundred calls from car lots in his county, claiming it was highway robbery.”

Shoving food in his mouth, Buck nodded. “I’ll talk to him when he gets here. Have the feds started to actually start searching for Joshua?”

“Not really,” Duane shrugged. “They are waiting on…” he paused looking at his notes. “FBI Senior Special Agent Albert Moore.”

A clang sounded as Buck dropped his fork on his plate. “You’re sure that’s the name?” he said sucking in a breath. Duane looked at his notes and nodded. “Shit, I thought he retired.”

“You know him?”

“Not personally, but I’ve read about him. He used to be a profiler for the behavior science unit, then moved to special crimes task force. He’s bagged more serial killers and terrorists than any other agent I’ve heard. Hell, I’m surprised he’s still in the field.”

“Well, he wasn’t,” Duane said laying his notepad in his lap. “He was teaching at the academy till they pulled him out here.”

“They really want Joshua,” Buck said pushing away from the food on his desk, not hungry anymore. “He’s a nobody, why all the trouble? Shit, I watched the national news last night and they made Joshua sound like a home grown terrorist that hates America.”

Picking up his notepad, Duane nodded. “Yeah, if I didn’t know Joshua, I would just say shoot him after what they said on the news last night. You listen to the radio stations here and they are painting another story on this.”

“This is getting way out of hand,” Buck said getting up.

Duane jumped up, “You’re not going to help them get Joshua, are you?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Buck shook his head. “No, if I give up one innocent man, I have to give up everyone in the county. That’s not the job I took. I swore to defend the Constitution and uphold the laws of Idaho, not these communist laws that have been passed in the last few decades. Or these executive orders that aren’t law. Only congress can pass law. The Constitution states that very clearly.”

“Whew,” Duane said. “I was about to freak out.”

The intercom on his desk went off, “Sheriff, the county prosecutor is here to see you.”

Walking back over to the intercom, he hit the button. “Send him in please.”

Duane turned for the door. “I’ll take my leave boss.”

“Hold it,” Buck snapped. “You’re the third in the chain of command, you stay.”

“Ah shit,” Duane grumbled. “Why did you have to make me a captain?”

“You think,” Buck said sitting down and Stanley walked in carrying a briefcase. Buck looked up at Stanley and shook his head, seeing the dark circles under his eyes. “I take it you haven’t slept much either.”

“Sleep, what’s that?” Stanley said looking at Duane. “He staying?”

“Yes,” Buck said opening a drawer pulling out a notepad. “I need someone other than me who knows what’s going on.”

Stanley nodded as he opened up his briefcase and threw down three stacks of paper. “The FCC just shut down the radio stations in the county,” he said sitting down.

“What,” Buck said snatching up the stacks of paper. “They pulled their license?”

“Yep, they wouldn’t quit broadcasting that Joshua was being framed and that Mrs. Ethel died from complications from the attack by a federal agent,” Stanley said with a sigh. “Their lawyers are filing an appeal, but it’s not going to be heard til next week.”

“Holy shit,” Duane said shaking his head with wide eyes.

Turning to Duane, Stanley narrowed his eyes. “Have you read what you sent me on that flash drive?”

“Not all of it, but I’ve read some of it.”

“The Attorney General of the United States called my office at six a.m., demanding to be put in touch with me,” Stanley said. “When the feds picked up the copies of evidence you’d made for them, it seems they found out that copies were made of that computer, and they want names of who did it and all copies returned.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Duane said as sweat beaded up on his forehead.

Closing his eyes, Stanley nodded. “Yeah, I tried that, but made a copy of the drive you gave me and sent it to the feds and told them that was the only copy. Seems there is a federal law that forbids anyone from downloading information off a government computer unless you are a federal agency. No state agency has the right or privilege to even petition for a warrant to do it. It’s a felony punishable by twenty-five years in a federal pen.”

“That’s a load of shit,” Buck snapped. “They police themselves and nobody can question it? Last time I checked, that goes against the Constitution.”

“That’s why I made a copy and if more exist, I don’t want to know,” Stanley said opening his briefcase up. “Buck, you better be damn sure that Joshua’s in the right because they are coming after both of us,” he said taking out several folders and looked up at Buck. “I just hired my own legal counsel and I suggest you do the same.”

“He’s the God damn sheriff and you’re the county prosecutor!” Duane shouted.

Looking at the stuffed folders in his hands, Stanley looked over at the conference table. “Can we move there? I have too much shit I need to show you,” he said not waiting for an answer, but grabbed his briefcase and walked over to the table. “Yes we are, Duane, but unlike the feds here who seem to be untouchable, Buck and I aren’t.”

Buck grabbed his pad and hit the intercom button. “Call my wife and tell her to call her sister Karen. We may need her to defend me.”

“Yes sheriff,” a soft female voice answered as Buck and Duane joined Stanley at the table.

“Wish I would’ve thought of Karen,” Stanley said sitting down spreading out the folders. “Now, I’ve looked up the laws and executive orders and legal rulings on the executive orders they are using. We don’t have to help and can’t be held accountable, but if the feds consider our actions as conflicting with their investigation, they can hold us accountable.”

“Define ‘conflicting’,” Buck said sitting down.

Looking up at Buck with a straight face, “Not kissing their ass with tongue,” Stanley said.

“So, I take it you know something?” Buck sighed.

“Yep, they’ve petitioned the governor to remove us and set up interim people in our spots,” Stanley said.

Duane dropped into a chair, “The governor would never get re-elected if he did that.”

“Yes, but he would get a job in Washington working at a lobbying firm and making four times as much as he does now,” Stanley said leaning back in his chair.

“How do you know that?” Duane asked feeling his heart beating faster.

Looking from Duane to Buck, Stanley said. “The governor told me.” Both men looked at Stanley in horror. “Oh, he said he wasn’t, but wanted me to know just how the feds were going to play ball. The governor told them he may have a job outside of the state, but his family would still be here.”

“Okay Stanley, so you want to bug out?” Buck asked wearily.

Stanley jumped up out of his seat. “Are you fucking crazy!” he shouted. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely and this is what we are looking at! This is why I went to law school to stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves!”

“Lord Acton: Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.” Buck said reciting the quote. Feeling relieved, Buck nodded. “I just had to ask because I’m not backing down either.”

Sitting back down, Stanley stared at Buck. “If I was you, I would send my wife to the bank and withdraw all of your money because something tells me they will come after it.”

Duane gave a low whistle as Buck nodded. “She’s bringing in Sonya and William, so I’ll tell her.”

“Good, because I was going to tell you to bring them here for the feds to question them,” Stanley said pulling out his cellphone, but didn’t dial it. “Can I use your hardline?” he asked looking at the phone on the table. “I’m sure they are pulling all our cellphone signals by now.”

“They can’t do that,” Duane said.

Picking up the phone, Stanley nodded. “According to their rules, they can. I have the court rulings in my briefcase that even agree with them. But I’m also sure they have all the phones here in the building tapped because the ruling also stated under national security, they can do it. They only have to convince a panel of their own people that who they’re after, might be a threat to national security.”

Duane looked over at Buck, then back to Stanley, “Um, how can they say Joshua is a threat to national security?”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “Joshua had the audacity to not allow the federal government to seize a large portion of his physical assets; meaning everything,” Stanley said. “They are claiming money laundering to hide monetary gain to defraud taxable monies, and the death of federal agents who tried to stop him are in the national interest. They have a very broad view of national security.”

Buck’s mouth hung open as Stanley stared at him. “I know Buck,” Stanley said holding up a folder. “I’ve looked the other way when an officer has skirted the line of the law, but holy hell,” he said dropping the folder on the table. “The feds aren’t bending the laws; they are making them up to get what they want.”

“So you’re saying we are going to lose?” Duane mumbled covering his face with his hands.

“Huh,” Stanley scoffed. “No one could win against this playing field.”

Leaning back in his chair, Buck grunted. “So, what’s your opinion on how we should handle this?”

“Keep standing for the citizens of this county until we are arrested,” Stanley said.

Dropping his hands off his face, Duane shook his head. “You really think they are going to arrest the sheriff and the county prosecutor?”

“Sooner or later,” Stanley nodded as Buck’s secretary knocked and opened the door.

“Sheriff, Sonya and William Anderson are here,” she said and Buck nodded.

Sonya walked in with her arm on William’s shoulder. “Buck, your wife said she was running the errand you wanted and Karen said, ‘Hell yeah, she would represent you’,” Sonya said walking over to the table as the others stood up.

As Sonya and William shook everyone’s hand Stanley smiled at her. “Ralph will be here shortly, I called him for you,” he said shaking her head.

Sonya nodded and sat down beside Stanley. “So, just how much trouble is Joshua in?”

“Let’s worry about you two first,” Stanley said making her gasp. “Don’t get worked up, but the feds want to question you about Joshua.”

“They can kiss my butt,” William said lifting his chin.

Buck grinned, “William, I know you’re mad, but please don’t provoke them.”

“Dad was protecting himself,” William cried out.

“I know son,” Buck said dropping the grin. “But the feds are coming down hard after him, so don’t give them a reason to use you and Sonya against him. That’s why I told them that they could talk to you here, with us.”

“Oh, okay,” William mumbled and Sonya patted his arm.

“Sheriff, you have several federal officers and a private attorney waiting to see you,” the intercom blared.

Buck stood up and looked at Sonya. “Sonya, I don’t know what Ralph is going to tell you, but if asked about what you withdrew, tell them Joshua took it.”

Stanley sucked in a breath looking at Buck in shock. “Buck, you can’t lie to a federal officer, it’s against the law. It doesn’t matter that they can lie to you.”

Glancing at Stanley, Buck turned back to Sonya. “It’s not a lie, I’m sure Joshua would’ve taken it to prevent charges from being pressed against Sonya and William,” he said with a nod.

Taking a deep breath, Sonya nodded, “Of course he took it, and said he would hide it.”

Giving a relieved sigh, Buck hit the intercom. “Send them in.”

FBI SAC Burrows and Homeland Agent in charge Griffey walked in, followed by more people in suits. “Sheriff, this is IRS agent Laura Hughes, BATFE agent Ernie Butler, and Boyd Weber with the EPA,” he said walking to the table as Ralph moved over and pulled a chair up beside Sonya, whispering in her ear.

“What the hell is the ATF here for?” Duane asked shaking his head.

“Suspected illegal transfer of firearms to the suspect Joshua Anderson,” Agent Griffey said as the others sat down, but he sat at the end of the table and Sonya grabbed William’s arm, squeezing it to make him stay quiet. “Ah, Mrs. Sonya Anderson, so glad you could join us. We have a lot of questions for you.”

Ralph stood up, “My client is evoking spousal privilege.”

“Nice try, but under National Security directive 23145, that doesn’t work. Any person withholding information on a terrorist suspect will be detained,” Agent Griffey grinned, “Indefinite detention until cooperation.”

“Until you produce this document, I’m advising my client not to answer anything that is privileged information between spouses,” Ralph said with a curt nod.

“Sorry, but that directive is Top Secret and not available for public access,” Griffey said as the grin turned into a smile.

Slapping the table and scaring everyone, Stanley stood up. “You can’t enforce laws that aren’t public knowledge and furthermore, if you even attempt it, I’ll have you arrested right now, you son of a bitch,” he snapped. “Try, I dare ya. No, fuck that, I double dare ya!”

“I would watch your threats, counselor,” Griffey said narrowing his eyes.

Before Stanley could answer, Buck coughed, getting his attention. Stanley looked at Buck as Buck slowly stood up from his chair and leaned over the table looking at Agent Griffey. “Oh, that wasn’t a threat Griffey. It’s a cold hard fact,” Buck said staring holes into Griffey. “Now, knowing that Mrs. Anderson has declared spousal privilege, are there any questions you wish to ask? And I assure you, you won’t be arresting her today or any day if she refuses to answer a question she doesn’t have to, not while I’m sheriff and have armed deputies under me. My department may not be large, but I can call a lot of armed citizens to my aid.”

Griffey relaxed, getting his emotions back under control and sighed. “I was hoping you would see the light and join us in this investigation, sheriff.”

“I’m not enforcing tyranny Griffey, not for you or anyone else,” Buck growled as he sat back down.

“Seems this area is overrun with people that don’t comply with government orders,” Griffey said.

“Griffey,” Buck said, leaning back in his chair and looking at the EPA agent Weber. “Yes, we’ve had a lot of trouble with you federal boys and girls trying to come in here and tell people what they can and can’t do on their own land,” he said then glanced at the others. “The Sacketts won sir, and yet you still haul people in for the same thing. We won’t even get into Ruby Ridge.”

“Exactly,” Griffey said. “Too many people around here, even the officers of the law think they don’t have to abide by federal statutes.”

“Maybe people around here want to be left the hell alone,” Buck snapped. “Now, do you have questions that don’t fall under privileged status for Mrs. Anderson?”

Griffey nodded at the IRS agent. Laura looked down at her notes. “Where is the money you withdrew from the bank and the contents of your safe deposit box?” she asked and then looked over at Sonya.

Sonya whispered in Ralph’s ear, then he looked over at Laura. “That falls under privileged status,” Ralph said.

“What about the equipment that was at the forestry sale site? It is valued at one point six million dollars?”

“My client has answered that in her written statement that was provided to you by the county prosecutor’s office. She doesn’t know where it’s at and she isn’t listed on the filed company ownership papers, so she has no ties to them. She does have access to the account, but only as a spouse,” Ralph said and pulled out a folded stack of papers and slid them down the table to the IRS agent. “This is a court order for ninety days, barring you from seizing the property that my client inherited. Any trespass on your part that isn’t covered by state law will be prosecuted in civil court. Let me assure you, it will be a big number with lots of zeros.”

For the first time, Agent Griffey looked irritated and couldn’t even force a smile. “That will be all for now,” he almost growled, staring at Buck.

Ralph stood up, pulling Sonya who pulled William. “You may contact my office if you wish to ask my client further questions and any attempt to do otherwise will be viewed as entrapment and harassment. No charges are filed on my client and therefore, she has no responsibility to answer. Good day,” Ralph said laying a business card on the table. He pushed Sonya toward the door and then followed her and William out.

When they’d left, Griffey leaned over the table, still glaring at Buck and Stanley. “I’m filing papers to have charges brought against both of you for violating national security laws by copying a federally protected computer with sensitive information.”

“Go right ahead,” Buck chuckled. “You may have all of our copies, but I can assure you if you try, a copy may be found and released on the internet about how the federal government is seizing private businesses to generate assets.”

Griffey jumped up out of his chair. “This meeting is over,” he said storming for the door.

“I didn’t want the damn thing in the first place!” Buck shouted as the others jumped up, almost running to catch up with Griffey.

Before Stanley said anything, Buck raised his hand and pressed the intercom. “Will you have that electronic guy come in and do another sweep?”

Chapter Eight

Exhausted, Joshua looked around the cabin as the sun slowly rose outside. He had made two trips to the dugout over the last two days. This was his third and final trip. He looked around the cabin, seeing only furniture and dishes. As he turned, he stopped and looked at the fireplace mantle. On it sat a huge fifty-pound grizzly bear trap with a cow bone in the massive jaws.

A grin split Joshua’s face as he walked over to the mantle. “Why the hell not? It may come in handy,” he mumbled, picking the fifty-pound trap up with a grunt and putting it on the floor. He walked over to the closet and pulled out a long set trap tool that was just two steel rods attached at the end and used to compress the springs of the trap.

With a lot of grunting and swearing, Joshua finally got the cow bone out without setting the massive jaws. Just looking at the jaws closed gave him the shivers. Picking up the trap, he carried it out to the mules and strapped it on. Making one last walk through, he grabbed the radios he’d left charging that he had taken off of Wayne. He had a portable solar panel that he used to charge stuff at the dugout.

He now knew that one was an FBI radio, and they were setting up in Nordman on Priest Lake, a few miles away. Many of the transmissions were in code, but he could work them out. Walking out of the cabin he sighed, giving it a longing look. “Don’t know what they’re going to do to ya, but you’ve served me well,” he said patting the door.

Turning around, he walked over to his horse and climbed on. “Come on King. Let’s make this run and then we can rest,” he said giving King a kick. With the mules trailing with leads to his saddle, Joshua guided King on a different route to the dugout. Each trip he’d used a different path and avoided any snow.

If snow was on the ground, Joshua used rocky ridges so he wouldn’t leave tracks. The routes he took from the cabin were trails that were well-worn from all of the riding he and his family had done from here. He had watched a few of those shows on TV, and it was a little more difficult to track someone than they all depicted. If the person you were tracking knew what they were doing and the area had a lot of rock and was large, it was damn near impossible.

Because he was taking different routes each time, Joshua couldn’t doze for long in the saddle. He tried not to doze at all, but staying awake for two days was hard as hell when you’re worn out and the feds are hunting you. Thinking of the feds, his pulse sped up and anger flushed his mind. Sitting up straight in the saddle he took a deep breath, “Anger clouds the mind and you make stupid choices,” he said out loud then laughed. “How many times have I said that to Ben?”

At just that moment, King gave a snort and Joshua grinned. “Yeah, a bunch of times and he never listened.”

It was ten and Joshua was riding along a rocky ridge to stay away from the soft wet dirt along the valley floor, when he heard rocks sliding behind him. As he turned, he heard one of the mules bay out. Looking back, he saw the last mule had slid down the slope, breaking the lead rope tied to the other mule. The mule lay twenty yards down the slope on its side, trying to stand up with the three-hundred-pound pack on its back.

“Shit,” Joshua said getting off his horse. He led the horse and other mule over to some trees and tied them off. He wasn’t worried about them walking away; he was worried about them following him and getting hurt. Using trees, Joshua moved down the steep slope to the mule and froze when he saw its front leg bent sharply the wrong way.

“Damn,” he said reaching down and patting the mule’s head to stop it from trying to get up and end up falling further down the slope. Feeling it was his fault for taking that route and not paying attention, Joshua rubbed the mule’s head. “Sorry buddy,” he said. “You’ve been with me for five years and have done a great job, but I can’t get you out of here to a vet.”

When the mule relaxed and stayed laying down, Joshua moved up the slope to his horse. He dug in his saddlebag, pulling out a suppressor for his 1911. This is one area that Joshua willingly and knowingly broke the law and used what he made. He didn’t believe the government had a right to tell people they couldn’t put a muffler on a gun to make the damn thing quieter and not burst your eardrums.

The only reason suppressors were put on the firearm registration list in the 1930’s was because the government didn’t want people hunting and killing game during the Depression without buying a hunting permit. It was feared since most people, eighty percent of the population, then lived in the country, that they would be able to shoot wild animals without being heard from far away and be able to put food on the table. They would rather a family starve or pay them than survive. That was the only reason for making suppressors illegal to own without a two-hundred-dollar tax stamp. Which in the 1930s was over a year’s pay, not to mention, you could walk in many stores and buy a suppressor for two dollars.

Screwing the suppressor on, Joshua eased back down the slope and sat down beside the mule as it panted. He knew where to aim and placed the suppressor on the mule’s head, squeezing the trigger and making the 1911 give a loud cough.

The mule’s head dropped to the ground and its body was still as Joshua flicked the safety back on. “Hope this isn’t an omen,” he said getting up and he started undoing the pack saddle. It took a bunch of trips, but he loaded the pack saddle on his horse.

Going back down the slope, he cut some bushes and wiped his boot prints away while moving back up the hill. Trying to hide the mule’s body would be a waste of effort and scavengers would be around soon to do it for him.

It was just after noon when he started walking, leading his horse and mule to the dugout. He couldn’t ride with his horse so loaded, and he wasn’t in the mood to unload and come back to get what was on the dead mule.

When he reached the dugout, Joshua was beyond tired as he just pushed the pack saddles off letting them hit the ground. He pulled the saddle off of King and then led the animals to a small rope corral he used. He used to hobble his animals but after a bear had tried to get them several years ago, he’d stopped so the horses and mules could fight back.

Leaving the stuff on the ground, Joshua passed through a small stand of bushes. When you stood back and looked at the area, it looked like the bushes sat next to a vertical wall. But if you walked through the bushes you would find the door that Joshua opened and he walked into the cabin.

He turned on a battery-operated LED lamp on a small table that sat in the middle of the one room cabin. The twenty by twenty dugout cabin was usually rather sparse with only a cast iron stove, a table with one chair; a chair Joshua had made that he could sit and read in, and a cot. Now, it was packed with the stuff he had taken from the cabin and was packed with boxes and storage bins.

Dropping into the reading chair, he laid his head back sighing, feeling bad about losing his mule. “Don’t think that would’ve happened if I wouldn’t have been so tired,” he mumbled closing his eyes and vowing not to make the same mistake again.

Knowing sleep would avoid him for a while, no matter how tired he was, in his mind’s eye, Sonya and William popped up and he smiled. He was worried about them but knew his neighbors and friends would protect them.

Joshua had been lucky in the wife department, first Mary his childhood sweetheart who he still loved. They had gotten married just after high school. Then Sonya, he had known Sonya since high school and had always liked her as a friend. They’d started dating a year after Mary had died, and were married six months later. After Mary had passed, Joshua had moved in with his mother, so she could help with William while he worked.

When he married Sonya, he’d moved to her house and bought the lot next to it for his company. It had worked out rather well, since he used to live close to Lamb Creek and most of the crew lived nearby. Sonya was beyond one of a kind and for a long time, he didn’t understand why no man ever snatched her up when she was younger.

He knew about her aversion to having kids and didn’t think it was a big deal. Hell, if he was a woman, he wouldn’t. But talking to others, it seemed that was a major downside to men. When she turned twenty-one, Sonya had tried to find a doctor to tie her tubes, but she couldn’t find a doctor in Idaho, Washington, Utah or Montana that would do it for a woman so young. Sonya was using a lawyer to get a court order to have one do it, when she found a doctor in Denver that would do the procedure. She was the one girl in school who had looked at the childbirth films as real life horror movies.

William had been a blessing because Mary had been told she couldn’t have kids and Joshua didn’t mind, he loved her. Then Mary told him one day, right after his thirty-second birthday, she was pregnant. That was one of the few times in his life that Joshua almost passed out from shock. One of the others, was the day his dad died.

She was smart, beautiful and Sonya’s only downside, that he could see was her big heart, and he didn’t really consider that a downside, most of the time. She loved to help others. More people knew her than Joshua. When someone in the community fell on hard times, Sonya would do what she could to help and was endeared to literally thousands of people.

Not to say it didn’t get on Joshua’s nerves. Not the fact she helped others, but loved to give. When William was eight, they were all sitting in the living room one Sunday afternoon watching a football game. A commercial came on for a computer game and William bounced up and down on the couch, saying he wanted it.

When the game got to halftime, Sonya kissed them both, saying she had to go but would be back shortly. Unknown to Joshua then, Sonya got in her car and drove to Coeur d’Alene sixty miles away, bought the game William had wanted, and drove home.

She’d found them on the couch watching another football game and handed the game to William who was ecstatic. Well, Joshua wasn’t excited about that and informed Sonya that was spoiling William. He’d watched in stunned horror as sweet little Sonya had changed into a wrath of nature that any sane man would bow to.

Joshua had never been afraid of any man, but he damn sure sat his ass down when Sonya bellowed at him that day. For an hour she yelled at Joshua, that William was her baby now and she could get him whatever she wanted to and whenever she wanted to.

To make matters worse, Sonya had called Joshua’s then seventy-eight-year-old mother and had yelled at her for raising a man that was mean to his baby. His mom finally got out of Sonya what she was mad about and convinced Sonya that’s not how Joshua was raised. To prove her point, his mom climbed in her caddy and drove fifty miles from Sandpoint to his house, and joined Sonya in screaming at him for being mean to William.

Remembering what his dad had told him as a kid, ‘Son, never argue with an angry woman, you’ll have better luck counting grains of sand on a beach. Just sit down or leave because it’s a useless endeavor. When they start to calm down, just say okay and be done with it.’

When his mom and Sonya had finally calmed down, Joshua raised his hands and did just that. Though he did do a little groveling, secretly hoping that would pacify them. That’s when the woman who gave birth and raised him, went to her purse and pulled out a stack of video games and called William from his room.

Not wanting the yelling directed at him, wisely William came running. His grandmother handed him the games and glared at Joshua, daring him to say a word. William told her thanks while looking at the games and Joshua just nodded with a smile. What he really wanted to do was remind his mom about the time she got mad at his dad for buying Joshua a new hunting bow when he was thirteen. But like William, he was wise and kept his mouth shut.

Sonya and his mom had left them in the living room and William had come over and whispered. “Dad, I can’t play these games, they’re for a PlayStation.”

William pulled him close, “Son, don’t say a word. Just smile and say thank you.”

In his heart, Joshua was glad William was such a good sensible kid or he would be a spoiled brat now. Sonya outright spoiled him. William started watching what he said he wanted because she would get it, usually by the next day. Joshua told William how proud he was about William not wanting a lot.

But even that had come back to bite him in the ass that very same year, William never really mentioned what he wanted for Christmas. So being Sonya, she bought what other mothers said they were buying their sons. By Christmas morning, the two-hundred-square-foot living room was half full of presents. Not all were William’s. Like William, Joshua had kept his mouth shut about wanting something because Sonya would buy it. She had money and made good money and didn’t mind spending it.

Joshua and William felt bad because together, they only got Sonya a dozen presents each. Truth be told, if presents wouldn’t have kept stacking up in the living room, Sonya would’ve only gotten a few from each of them.

That Christmas Eve, Joshua had to put not one, but two bikes together. One was a mountain bike and the other was a ten speed. As he put them together, Sonya tried to help, excited about making William happy. Having learned his lesson, Joshua just smiled with her and put the bikes together. Sonya loved them and liked to see them happy and smiling.

After that Christmas, William and Joshua would sit down in November and write down a narrow list of presents. The first year, they only wrote down ten items and it seemed that Sonya didn’t think that was enough and the living room was packed again. It took two more Christmas’, but they finally had the list to twenty-seven nice items each and this seemed to appease Sonya because the living room wasn’t packed anymore. Joshua tried one year to list socks and stuff, but Sonya would have none of that.

If you were around Sonya, you would think she’d given birth to William. Last year, William started liking a little girl and calling her ‘his girlfriend’. When Sonya found out who the girl was, she wasn’t happy. The girl’s family were known troublemakers and in trouble with the law. Joshua didn’t care, he judged people by who they were, not by where they came from.

Sonya wasn’t happy with that, as she very clearly screamed at Joshua many times. “That little trampy slut isn’t going to get near my baby boy!” Luckily, it didn’t last long and now, William was talking to a girl that lived close to them and Sonya really liked her and her family. Joshua thought the girl was a little high maintenance, but kept his mouth shut and would let William decide who he wanted to date.

He and Mary had been married for almost two decades before she had passed and they’d fought about normal stuff that couples argue about. In the seven years he had been married to Sonya, the only thing they had really argued about was her ‘spoiling’ William.

Case in point, Sonya wanted to buy William a car for his thirteenth birthday, so he could start practicing to drive. Not able to hold his tongue but using a different tactic, Joshua finally convinced Sonya that the car would be a waste of money right then, since she was talking about a new car and not a used one. They could let William practice with theirs. Satisfied with that, Sonya only bought William another four-wheeler and Joshua kept his mouth shut, feeling that was a good compromise.

That was why Joshua felt safe about leaving William with Sonya. There was no doubt in his mind, she would protect William if someone even entertained the thought of harming William. He would just kill them, but she would do it slowly and with much pain. A part of Joshua really thought Sonya wouldn’t be happy with just the person who had threatened William, but would want close relatives of that person as well.

As far as Sonya helping others, Joshua didn’t care and would help her to do it. She didn’t give handouts; Sonya gave a hand up. If your house burnt up, she would help you get replacements and clothes. More than one family had been put up for a few days in their house over the seven years they had been married.

If a family member died, Sonya would help however she could. Joshua wasn’t big into computers and if William didn’t love the damn things, he would have had very little to do with them. But one day, Ben was talking and told Joshua about the friends that Sonya had on one of her social network pages. William explained that to him.

Joshua had just shrugged at Ben and Ben had grabbed Joshua and yelled. “Josh, she has over ten thousand friends!”

“They’re not real friends,” Joshua had mumbled. But that night, he’d talked to William about it and William told him that was a record.

Thinking about how lucky he was, Joshua settled back in the chair and his body relaxed as the tension of what was happening to him left and thoughts of his family continued playing in his mind. “I’m blessed and I’m not giving it up without a fight,” he said with a smile and drifted off for some much needed sleep.

Chapter Nine

Sitting behind his desk and feeling older than dirt, Buck looked up as Stanley walked in. “You look like I feel,” Stanley said, walking over to a coffee pot on the conference table.

“I feel like I’m talking to kids when I talk to the feds,” Buck said as Stanley poured a cup of coffee.

Ripping open some sugar packets, Stanley laughed. “With kids, I could call their parents.”

Looking outside as dawn broke, Buck nodded thinking coffee sounded good and got up, walking over to the conference table. “I wanted to ask, I heard the radio station when I drove in and spun the dial and found all three were back on. You said they were all shut down and the earliest they could get a hearing was next week.”

Moving over to a box of doughnuts, Stanley grabbed one with a grin. “I have a sharp assistant Buck. He found a regulation, left over from the Cold War, that forbids the FCC from shutting down all public broadcast venues in an area without approval from the governor.  If the FCC gets the governor to do it, they must set up another means to broadcast information to the public. Since all three stations don’t serve the same area, they are back on the air.”

“It wasn’t the hundreds of phone calls from Bonner county citizens to the governor?” Buck asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Well, that might have played a part for others, but not here. My assistant showed the regulation to the judge and he ordered the stations back on the air until the hearing. But get this, one of the stations in Coeur d’Alene started broadcasting hourly reports yesterday about the ‘Atrocities being committed by the Federal Government in Bonner County’ and was shut down,” Stanley said with a grin.  “Sheriff Delgado sent patrol cars to the station and ordered it back on the air. He even arrested one of the FCC guys. Since then, every radio station in Idaho is running hourly reports. I’ve never seen so many reporters from radio stations before.”

Grabbing a donut, Buck gave a genuine smile of joy. “At least someone will know what’s going on here.”

“Buck, the independent news sites on the web are all over this,” Stanley said sitting down. “People know and it’s starting to make waves that the feds don’t want. Both our members in congress have called me back and retracted their statements about cooperating with the feds and have left it to our judgment.”

Sitting down, Buck took a bite of his donut. “I refused to take their call.”

Stanley sat down and nodded in understanding. “So, what do you know of our guest today?”

“He’s a man hunter, Special Agent Albert Moore.”

“Yeah, I know that, but why do you want me here?” Stanley asked sipping his coffee.

“To make sure I don’t get in trouble when I tell him to fuck off,” Buck said. “Just how much do I have to talk to him?”

“Buck,” Stanley said looking around nervously. “Have you had your office swept for bugs?”

“Every six hours,” Buck said finishing his donut. “They left right before you got here.”

“You know, it’s sad we are sweeping for listening devices from our own government.”

Buck pointed at the window to a box with wires leading to suction cups attached to each window. “You know what that is?” he asked and Stanley shook his head. “It’s a laser interrupter. The feds have a laser that they can shoot at a window from almost half a mile away and can pick up every word said. My electronics guy said it’s so sensitive, if you type something they can even tell what you typed from your fingertips striking the keys.”

“You think they are using one on you here?” Stanley asked getting worried.

“Don’t know, but Sheriff Figueroa up in Boundary County sent that to me for that reason. I looked it up and the things aren’t cheap, so don’t ask me why he had one.”

“Shit, where do I get one?” Stanley said and then looked back at Buck. “I’m asking this completely as your friend and citizen of Bonner County. Do you think Joshua will move around in populated areas or stay in the mountains?”

“That’s easy, he’ll stay in the mountains. He knows how to move, and unlike those idiots I see on TV, Joshua knows how to survive. Hell, he’s lived the life of a mountain man.”

“Buck, Agent Moore will never find him then, unless he gets lucky. They are used to tracking people in civilization, not the backcountry. If Joshua avoids people, they will never find him.”

“Stanley, just about everyone in this county will go out of their way to help Joshua. You know why Sheriff Figueroa gave me that device? He knows Joshua from his dealings with Sonya when she helps people. He didn’t say it in so many words, but he’s getting ready to butt heads with the feds.”

“Why would they bother him? Joshua doesn’t live there.”

Buck reached over, grabbing another donut. “He said when they start to search, they will move into his county. They already sent him letters of request for assistance.”

Stanley sat back in his chair, “Well, what did he reply?”

“Stanley, I know I’m not a wordy scholar and have a potty mouth, but if I would have ever used that language to anyone, my wife would wash my mouth out,” Buck grinned. “The gist of his remarks was that until the feds came and sucked his protruding appendage till he felt they had earned his respect, they could fuck off or he would use their women as breeding stock for real men.”

Changing the remark to ghetto words in his mind, Stanley smiled nervously. “Damn, that’s ballsy. He could get in trouble for remarks like that to a federal agency.”

“I don’t think he really cares,” Buck said as his secretary came in with more coffee. “Let us get another cup and then would you take the coffee and donuts out until my federal guest leaves? I refuse to feed the assholes on my dime.”

“Yes sheriff,” she said with a smile as they each pulled another donut out and topped off their coffee.

“From what I’ve heard about him, Agent Moore is an alright guy,” Stanley said getting another donut and stacking them on napkins in front of him.

Buck shook his head as the secretary walked out. “I really don’t care. If they would have left this to me, I would’ve brought Joshua in. Granted, like you and I have established, we wouldn’t get a prosecution, but he would’ve answered for his actions and have been found not guilty. They don’t care. Like you said, they want him dead.”

“Sheriff, you have a Special Agent Moore here to see you,” his secretary announced over the intercom.

“Mind your manners,” Stanley said sipping his coffee.

Looking at the intercom like he wanted to punch it, Buck slowly reached over and pushed the button. “Show him in, please.”

The secretary opened the door and a man in his mid-fifties wearing a nice suit and carrying a briefcase walked in. “Sheriff Harper,” he said holding out his hand with a smile that seemed genuine. Standing up as the man walked over, Buck shook his hand. “Agent Albert Moore with the FBI.”

“Pleasure,” Buck said with a flat expression.

Releasing his hand, Moore looked at the table and smiled. “So, I see my counterparts have really irritated you.”

“Come again?” Buck said sitting down.

“You took out the coffee and donuts,” he grinned and motioned to the table. “Where would you like me to sit?”

“Not close to me,” Buck said and Stanley glared at him.

Moore stepped back, dropping the smile. “They must have done a really good job of irritating you,” he said, moving to the end of the table. “May I ask who is beside you?”

“Stanley Cater, County Prosecutor,” Stanley said not standing and grabbing a donut off of his napkin.

Shaking his head, “I need to tell them to let me come first from now on,” Moore said pulling out his chair, setting his briefcase on the table and saw the black box beside the window. He saw the wires coming out were connected to suction cups stuck to the window. “Holy shit,” he said with wide eyes.

Pointing at the box, “You really need that?” Moore asked.

“Since you and your friends came to town, it’s become a necessary precaution,” Buck said grabbing his coffee.

Sitting down, Moore looked at Buck. “Sheriff, I’m going to be honest, you’re giving them too much credit. They see you as backwater morons. They just want the use of your manpower.”

Stanley brushed sugar off his hands from the donut. “Not from what I’ve heard or read,” he said and looked down at Moore.

“Oh, I’m not saying it’s beneath them later in the operation, but right off the bat, the idiots here now don’t think you can wipe your butt alone,” Moore said opening his briefcase. “May I ask why the County Prosecutor is here?”

“To make sure I behave,” Buck said putting down his coffee.

“Not necessary for me, but a good idea with the idiots,” Moore said pulling out folders and laying them on the table. “Just an FYI, sheriff, that box you have hooked up is against federal law. It’s a felony to deter eavesdropping attempts of any department of the federal government.”

Stanley looked at Buck, “Where do I get one?”

“Oh, you can’t buy them,” Moore said arranging the folders. “They have to be made and I’ve seen the blueprints for that one and it’s the best. It oscillates at random frequencies constantly and beats all known laser microphones. That’s why they are forbidden for sale. Being a law enforcement agency, you can skirt that but if the idiots want to listen, they could invoke the security directive dealing with any attempt to interfere in a federal surveillance operation.”

“Get me the damn plans, I’ll make my own,” Stanley said looking at Moore.

Not looking up as he moved his briefcase to the side of the table, “Oh boy, did they do a number this time, pissing off the local law enforcement.”

“Agent Moore, you requested this meeting, may I ask what for?” Buck said, writing himself a note to get the plans for that box.

“Sheriff, unlike the idiots, I know without local law enforcement’s help, my job of catching fugitives is a thousand times more difficult.”

Surprised at that, Buck leaned back in his chair. “Well sir, like I told them, you want to catch Joshua Anderson, leave. I’ll pick him up in a month or two and we can proceed in state court.”

Reaching over into his briefcase, Moore pulled out an envelope. “Sheriff, this is a letter I wrote two days ago to the Attorney General of the United States and the Director of the FBI and it says the same thing,” Moore said laying the envelope down, sliding it down the table. He pulled another envelope out, holding it up. “They both replied back the same day I sent the letter,” he said and slid it down the table.

“Basically, they told me they had no faith in local law enforcement to apprehend or state courts to prosecute the fugitive. I was instructed to develop my profile and assist the team in place to apprehend the fugitive, Joshua Anderson,” Moore said as Stanley passed the letters to Buck. “By all means, counselor, you may read them. If the sheriff has you here to make sure he behaves, he must think highly of you.”

Stanley looked down the table. “You may call me Stanley,” he said as Buck pushed the letters back to him.

“Moore, have you read the crime scene report and the witness testimonies?” Buck asked.

“Of course,” he said and opened one of the folders. “But I am not a jury. My job is to apprehend the suspects, not pass judgment.”

“It was self-defense,” Buck said grabbing his donut.

Nodding, Moore picked up the top sheet of paper from the open folder and read. “A strong argument could be made that the fugitive acted in self-defense, and even with a mediocre attorney representing the fugitive, the government’s case would be difficult if not impossible to prove.” He sat the paper down and looked at Buck. “That was my assessment to the director after reviewing the case.”

“And yet, here we are,” Buck said leaning back in his chair.

“Sheriff, you and I enforce the laws. The courts are the ones that decide innocence and guilt.”

Buck nodded, “Your law degree is really standing out Moore. But,” Buck said leaning over the table. “You are expecting a man to surrender to the very departments of the federal government that tried to kill him.”

“Allegedly,” Moore corrected. “That is for a court to decide, not law enforcement.”

“Can I be frank  with you, Agent Moore?” Buck asked clasping his hands and leaning over on the table resting on his elbows.

“Yes, please do, and Albert, if you would prefer,” Moore said. “What is said here is between us.”

“I believe in my heart that Joshua would never see the inside of a courtroom if your people apprehend him. I’ve talked to ‘your people’,” Buck stressed. “They all but said it to my face that he will be killed.”

“I assure you, that’s not the case from my point of view,” Moore said.

“Then you haven’t talked to your people,” Buck said with a frown. “Do you know what this is about?”

“Yes,” Moore said opening another folder. “The suspect was in violation of federal forestry regulations, suspected tax evasion, child labor code violations, destruction of national assets, numerous EPA violations and suspected firearm violations.”

Stanley leaned over, “There’s that ‘firearm violations’ again.”

Putting the paper down, Moore looked at both of them. “Would you like to know why they brought in the BATF?” he asked and they nodded. “He’s bought several hundred pounds of gunpowder, purchased a substantial amount of ammunition over the years. Including calibers that he’s not recorded to own.”

Stanley leaned back in his chair, “I’m going to be sick.”

“A firearms registration is against the law,” Buck snapped.

“No, it’s not. A national security directive allows it,” Moore said solemnly. “They don’t use the ATF forms. They use financial transactions, tracking of media, public events, cellphone conversations and several other avenues, I’m told.”

“And you know this, and haven’t reported it?!” Buck shouted.

Holding up his hands with his palms facing Buck to get him to relax, Moore said. “It’s covered by the law.”

“What about the sheet of paper you swore an oath to? It’s called the Constitution of the United States,” Buck said lowering his voice, seeing Moore was at least talking to him, not at him.

“Legal panels have reviewed and ruled that the directives don’t violate the Constitution,” Moore said crossing his hands.

Buck looked down at the table. “Jesus, it’s not America anymore.”

“I beg to differ, sheriff,” Moore said. “You are innocent until proven guilty.”

“Everyone is guilty under your system. You’ve made up laws that go against everything it means to be American,” Buck snapped. “But let me tell you something.”

Putting the letters that he was reading down, Stanley reached over, grabbing Buck’s wrist. “What the hell are you going to tell him? Remember, be nice.”

Taking a deep breath, Buck looked down at Moore. “This is about money. Joshua was worth over two million dollars and they were going to seize it,” Buck said.

Hearing that, Moore laughed. “Sheriff, I assure you that’s not the case. Two million dollars wouldn’t mean anything in the coffers. Our country runs on billions, not millions.”

“Oh, good sir,” Buck said leaning over the table as he stood up. “Millions add up rather quickly to billions. I’ve seen it with my own eyes from ‘your’ peoples’ own records. Just in the last six months, almost two billion dollars have been seized from private citizens.”

“Buck,” Stanley said in a low voice. “You need to shut your mouth now.”

Buck turned to Stanley, “Let ’em try me,” he growled, then looked back at Moore. “You’re an ostrich with your head in the sand Moore, and you know it. You’re trying to convince yourself that you’re upholding the law when you’re walking all over it.”

“Sheriff, I assume you’re referring to data taken off the government computer. All that data only refers to legal federal enforcement of federal laws. There is no agenda.”

Dropping in his chair, Buck shook his head. “You make a good Nazi.”

Raising his eyebrows sharply, “I resent that remark,” Moore said with a straight face.

“You know, Joshua only had a small business,” Buck said crossing his hands over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. “Only employed eight people, but those eight supported many other businesses. Now, those eight are out of work and I hope you realize, this area is very dependent on businesses like Joshua’s as are other areas of the country. You can’t keep shutting down small businesses with bullshit rules and regulations without consequences.”

“Sheriff, I’m sure you’re aware I have an associate’s degree in free market enterprise,” Moore said. “No matter what you read or heard, the government isn’t after small business or seizing money from the poor.”

“Of course you don’t seize money from the poor, they don’t have any. The government gives them money to get votes,” Buck grinned. “I answer to the citizens of this county and they expect me to protect them, and that includes their homes and businesses.”

Moore nodded with a sigh, “Sheriff, this argument could go on for weeks.”

“But it’s the root cause of why we’re here. Your boys are after one of my constituents’ assets. You want what he has, to sell off and make money off of property that isn’t yours. Your boys didn’t break into his house and take his money, you went right to his bank to take his hard earned money and lock his accounts. You know, that all really sounds illegal unless you’re the federal government.”

“Sheriff, once again I say, that’s for courts to decide, not you and me,” Moore said with a sigh.

“Very well,” Buck said sitting up. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Your help in apprehending the suspect, Joshua Anderson. Like I said, I know without your help it’s going to be much more difficult, but I assure you, we will catch him,” Moore said opening another folder.

Chuckling, Buck looked over at Stanley. “He thinks he knows enough about Joshua from reading a few reports that he can catch him.”

“Oh, I know Mr. Anderson quite well,” Moore said picking up the top page from the folder. “Joshua Anderson: noted as suspect. Male, age forty-five, six feet tall, one hundred and seventy pounds with shoulder length black hair and full facial beard to mid chest, minor gray streaks currently noted to hair and beard.

“High school graduate and worked in father’s logging company from an early age, but unknown start. Married, two months after graduating high school to Mary Lalas and bought a house south of Coolin, Idaho. Father died in a logging accident when suspect was twenty-eight. Father left business to son with a quarter of yearly profits going to his widow. See appendix A for asset value.

“Offspring: One child, William Anderson, given birth by Mary Anderson when suspect was thirty-two. Reports indicate offspring was unexpected due to Mary Anderson’s diagnosis and finding of thin uterine wall. Mary Anderson died almost instantly of cerebral aneurysm rupture when child was five and suspect was thirty-seven.

“Suspect moved in with his biological mother and with his child two weeks after the death of wife. Assumption; help to care for William Anderson. Suspect’s home was paid for and no extraneous financial burden noted. Suspect’s personal residence south of Coolin, Idaho sold along with shop on property which logging business was operated from after father’s death. Assessment of circumstance: close and extremely loyal family ties.” As Moore put the first page down and grabbed the next, Buck and Stanley looked at him with open mouths as he continued to read the next page.

“One year after death of wife, started courting Sonya Stanton. Suspect had prior contact with Stanton from high school and Stanton was known acquaintance of suspect and deceased wife. From gathered intel, Sonya Stanton was always affectionate toward the suspect.

“After marriage to Sonya Stanton, suspect moved to her residence that she attained from grandmother in community of Lamb Creek, Idaho; no mortgage noted on residence for last thirty years. Suspect bought adjoining property to residence with lump sum to continue operating logging business close to residence. Note: Sonya Anderson, forty-four, no children but noted and documented exceedingly committed to William Anderson. Well known throughout outlying community. Highly active on four social network sites. Parents deceased: car wreck, left substantial inheritance see appendix B.

“Suspect only listed owner of business but spouse Sonya Anderson has account access. Debt ratio balanced, business credit rating listed as excellent. Suspect in last sixteen months has acquired two pieces of machinery valued at $510,753 with no down payment required. See appendix C for business holdings.

“Employees: eight total. Only one employee with less than ten years with company. One employee in business longer than suspect, many others business is only known employment. No job postings for applications have been obtained. Note: suspect pays employees extremely well compared to industry standard. Employees receive weekly checks along with quarterly bonuses out of proportion with industry standard.

“Suspect personal: No military background. Vocal advocate of constitutional rights. Known remarks degrading government. Very active outdoors, with seemingly substantial knowledge of wilderness surroundings. Highly active sportsman hunting and fishing. Unknown number of firearms but reported to have amassed a sizable collection. Refer to appendix M for suspected firearms and known ammunition purchases.

“Active member of NRA. Active member of Mountain Men. Active member of Small Business Association. Active member Youth Sports League. Active member of six hunting conservation groups. Member, not active, Safari International. Member, not active, National Shooting Sports Foundation. Christian but doesn’t regularly attend services.

“Hobbies noted: hunting and fishing. Highly active reader of many subjects. List of known book purchases appendix L. Non-active participant of black powder shooting competition. Last active event noted when suspect was thirty-one.  Non-active participant of Cowboy Active Shooting known as SASS, Single Action Shooting Sports. Last active event noted when suspect was thirty-four. Non-active participant, three gun competition. Last active event noted when suspect was forty-one.

“Crime scene investigation reveals suspect highly proficient with side arm. Three officers with weapons drawn engaged with single gunshots to head before they could return fire. Tracks in snow reveal suspect left scene immediately after incident. Further analysis provided in appendix E.

“Profile- Suspect is above average intelligence. Excellent health for age. Well liked in community and would have grassroots support for evading capture. Family bonds strong but doubtful suspect would endanger them or others with presence. Strong moral values. Well known and outwardly adored by influential members of community.

“First conclusion- suspect comfortable and knowledgeable enough to survive and dwell in wilderness environment for great length of time. Known areas suspect hunts game in appendix G. These are primary search areas until proven otherwise. Suspect known to be highly proficient with multiple rifles and as noted previous pistols. See appendix N for competition results and known weapons. Since shooting of two federal agents and one state trooper, suspect hasn’t contacted any known associate. Consider suspect to be armed and highly dangerous to federal law enforcement. Doubtful suspect would surrender to federal officials under any circumstance. Pursue avenues with local law enforcement to assist in capture of suspect. Highly unlikely suspect would engage local departments with lethal force. Only active ground search-,” hearing Stanley gag, Moore looked up to see Stanley and Buck staring at him with open mouths.

“Shall I continue? It’s nine more pages,” he said putting the page down.

Jumping up out of his chair, Stanley exploded. “You call that justifiable?! There is no way you got subpoenas for that kind of information that fast! Hell, medical records alone take weeks to subpoena and gather!”

“I don’t ask where the information is obtained or I can’t use it if it’s questionable,” Moore said leaning back. “My job-”

“We know,” Buck snapped cutting him off. “You know, they got that information from illegal search and seizure, yet you use it without remorse. I’m not talking about a serial killer or terrorist. I’m talking about an outstanding American.”

“Sheriff, Joshua Anderson has been labeled as a lone wolf terrorist by the Attorney General and signed off by the President of the United States.”

Stanley spun around with fire in his eyes. “You can’t do that, he’s an American citizen. The most you can label him is a domestic terrorist.”

“Not true counselor. We have proof that he has traveled repeatedly outside the United States for several years in a row. National security directives clearly state that alone, is ample reason enough,” Moore said. “Now, do you understand why I want your help? They are pulling all stops out to catch Mr. Anderson.”

“He cut trees down in Canada and Alaska!” Stanley yelled.

“So he reported, but he could’ve gone anywhere.”

“And you don’t think your boys want to kill him?” Buck growled.

Shaking his head but returning Buck’s stare. “No, but I can guarantee you, Mr. Anderson will fight back if found and they will be forced to kill him. We aren’t assassins, but we do fight back,” Moore said.

“Oh, on one thing you’re correct about, Joshua is going to fight back, but you and your boys are assassins, sir,” Buck said in a tense voice. “Let it be known from this day forth, my office is hostile to your investigation and apprehension of Joshua Anderson.”

Moore gave a startle with the proclamation and looked at Stanley. “You’re going to just stand there as he says that?”

“I’ll kick his ass if he even lifts a finger to save one of your boys,” Stanley said. “I stand in conjunction with Sheriff Harper, the county prosecutor’s office is hostile to your investigation and considers it not only constitutionally offensive, but morally degradable.”

“I’m sorry then gentlemen,” Moore said getting up and putting the folders back in his briefcase.

“Agent Moore, I’m not going to say what was discussed at this meeting. You asked for a confidential meeting and I’ll keep my word,” Buck said. “But you need to remember, this isn’t one of the New England states full of pussies that will roll over as you rape their rights, this is Idaho. People here cherish their rights and will fight for them and for their neighbors. You’ll be hard pressed to find a house around here with only one gun. Careful on your plan of action.”

“Sheriff, you can tell who you want, I’ve broken no laws,” Moore said closing his briefcase. “But you just told a federal agent that you are hostile in an ongoing investigation against a known cop killer that’s been labeled a lone wolf terrorist. You are the one that needs to worry.”

“Seems to me it’s about to get interesting,” Buck said with a cold smile. “Any contact further with this office needs to be done through the governor. Otherwise, I’ll view it as harassment and intimidation. This department won’t interfere with your investigation unless it violates state law, your supremacy clause be damned. If any of your men harass, threaten, or trespass against a citizen of this county, we will respond code three and be prepared for armed resistance.”

“You’re making a mistake sheriff,” Moore said picking up his briefcase. “You’re going to get people killed.”

“At least my way, they are standing up fighting and not getting hauled in and dying in questioning,” Buck said pointing to the door. “After meeting you I have to wonder, just how many of those people you chased were really criminals?”

Not responding, Moore left and Stanley spun around, hearing Buck pick up the phone and dial a number. “Hey Ralph, I need you to bring two of your clients here now, Sonya and Ben,” Buck said and listened. “Ralph, Sonya isn’t going to let William out of her sight but yes, he needs to be here also.”

Buck listened for a minute shaking his head. “No Ralph, it’s not safe to talk in your office. You’ll understand when you get here and it’s only going to be me, and maybe Stanley.”

“Hey, I’m calling the governor, the attorney general, the director of the state police, hell, I’m going to try to call the Easter Bunny and let him know what’s going on!” Stanley roared and Ralph heard that easily.

“I take it you understand that Stanley’s pissed off,” Buck said into the phone and listened. “As soon as possible Ralph. Ten minutes ago was too long.”

Saying goodbye, Buck looked up at Stanley. “You ready for this shit storm?”

“I’m going to tell my wife and little girl that dad might be going to prison, but be damned if I help build an iron curtain over my own country or stand by as one is built,” Stanley said and started pacing. He stopped when Buck got up and walked over to his desk.

Buck pulled out a drawer and pulled out a digital recorder hitting the stop button. “You old dog,” Stanley said grinning. “Illegal, but very smart.”

“What? I put it in my desk to interview a kid about breaking into a car, didn’t realize I left it on,” Buck said and pushed play to hear Agent Moore’s voice. “Is that believable to you?”

“I’ll check if we can use that,” Stanley said and saw Moore had left the two envelopes he had been reading. “No way,” he hissed walking back over to the table. “Buck, we can use these. Agent Moore clearly labeled his concerns and was told to shut up by the AG and FBI director.”

“That’s good,” Buck said walking over to Stanley. “You really don’t need to be here for what I have to say to Ralph.”

“I’ll stay,” Stanley said putting the letters in his coat.

“No Stanley. You ‘really’ don’t want to be here to hear what I say,” Buck stressed, reaching out and grabbing his arm. “You’re a lawyer and have certain rules I don’t want you to break, in case you have to go into private practice in the near future.”

Looking at the worry in Buck’s face, Stanley shook his head. “You want me to stay away for my own good while the ideals of the country that my daughter is going to inherit goes to hell, is that it?”

“For this, yes. I’m going to break the law and I can’t have you here,” Buck said letting Stanley’s arm go. “Ralph is protected by attorney/client privileges; you’re not. But I do need you to call those people you mentioned, but try the Easter Bunny last; I heard he’s kind of hard to get ahold of.”

***

Two hours later, Ralph walked into Buck’s office with Sonya holding William’s hand and Ben behind them. “Never been in here,” Ben said looking around with a grin. “I usually come in another way and the rooms I’ve seen have bars.”

Ralph stopped, looking at a woman who’d been sitting at the table and now was leaving. “Karen, what are you doing here?”

“Advising my client,” she smiled, holding out her hand and Ralph shook it. “If you need anything, Ralph, call my office.”

When she’d left, Ralph looked over at Buck still sitting at the table. “You need a heavy hitter like Karen for an attorney?”

“Yes, Ralph. Would all of you please sit?” Buck said rubbing his face with his hands. “Ralph, I want you and your clients to listen to something before we talk.”

“Can I take notes?” Ralph asked.

“If you want, but I made you a copy and yes, by doing it, I’ve broken the law; federal law, so you choose.”

As Ralph was pulling a legal pad out of his briefcase he froze. “Buck, are you serious?”

“Just listen,” Buck said and pressed play on the recorder. When the conversation with Agent Moore ended, Buck pressed stop. He looked at Ralph, “Now do you understand?”

“Buck,” was all Ralph could say.

“Ralph, I asked you here so I could talk to your clients, but not as sheriff, as a friend.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Sonya cleared her throat, “What do you want to say, Buck?” After hearing that recording, she knew in her heart what the feds were going to do.

“Sonya, they are going to kill him on sight. I know you don’t know where he went, but I know you or Ben can get word to him. He needs to know that they aren’t looking for him to arrest, they are looking to kill him.”

“Buck, you’re suggesting my clients know how to get in touch with a-,” Ralph stopped when Sonya grabbed his arm.

“Buck, what’s the difference? He’s hiding and we don’t know where,” she said.

“Sonya, if you’re hiding from someone who’s chasing you: you can make a mistake like letting them see you from a distance or try to lay low till they pass. If you’re hiding from people trying to kill you, you have to disappear or make sure they can’t tell others where you are. If they see you, they shoot. You heard the agent say they labeled Joshua a lone wolf terrorist, right?” he said and she nodded.

“That is the most dangerous kind and they can use any means necessary to capture or kill them,” he said and Ralph nodded in agreement.

Sonya got up shaking her hands out. “It’s Joshua,” she moaned. “How could anyone see him like that?”

“They don’t,” Buck said. “They want to make him a lesson to others who fight back when the government comes to take their life’s work.”

“Buck, you better not be recording this conversation,” Ralph said in a low voice.

“I’m not, and Stanley knows I recorded the other one. He’s already talked to the governor, but I haven’t found out what was said.”

“William, will you come give mom a hug?” Sonya said from across the room holding out her arms. William got up and walked over into her arms as she hugged him. William wrapped his arms around her and Sonya hugged him tight, putting her lips to his ear and breathed. “What do you think?”

She rotated her head, putting her ear to William’s mouth. “I’m not giving it to Buck. I know he’s a friend, but he’s a cop first, like he said.”

Rolling her head back to press her mouth to William’s ear, “We can’t do it William. That was a federal car following us.”

“I’ll give it to Ben then,” he breathed when she pressed her ear to William’s mouth. She lifted her head back and nodded. The others watched and it had looked like they were distraught as they’d hugged each other.

They walked over to the table and William looked at Ben, “Ben, are the feds watching you?”

“Hell yeah,” he laughed. “I called a sex line yesterday afternoon and when the woman answered I yelled, ‘Josh, meet me in my driveway in thirty minutes’ and hung up. The feds came in three SUVs and a helicopter.”

“Ben, that was stupid. They could just as easily have shot you,” Buck said shaking his head.

Shrugging, “Well, I had twenty or so friends over at the house at the time and you won’t believe it, but they brought their rifles with them,” he said smiling.

“Ben, could you get away from the feds when you leave here?” William asked with a serious face.

Reaching a hand up, Ben stroked his long red goatee and smiled at William. Leaning over and looking down the table at Buck, “Buck, can I get away from someone who’s watching me?” he asked with a grin.

Buck gave a snort. “I have several deputies that can testify to that.”

Ralph reached over stabbing the table with his index finger. “These aren’t deputies, and if you’re caught contacting a fugitive in flight, they will crucify you and there will be little I can do.”

“I’m shocked that you’d even suggest I’d be caught,” Ben said in mock horror still stroking his goatee as William reached over and pulled a sheet of paper off of Ralph’s legal pad and took his pen.

“I’m serious Ben. They are quoting laws that nobody’s heard of and they are enforcing them,” Ralph said. “That’s my advice. But if you do try to contact someone, I suggest you don’t use any person’s phone who knows you.”

“Duh, it was my cellphone I used last night,” Ben chuckled. “I knew they would have it and all the others in the crew.”

“Ben, after hearing that recording, I’m certain they are pulling all communications in around here.”

“Yeah, it’s really easy to do,” William said writing. “They let a computer scan the conversations for keywords and then it will zero in when they pick up one. A friend of mine hacked the program once and he said it was really good.”

“William, you’re sitting in front of a law enforcement officer,” Ralph said in a low voice.

“I said ‘a friend’,” William said still writing.

Sonya reached over, rubbing his head, “You don’t lie well hon,” she smiled with tears in her eyes.

“I’d like to see anyone prove it was me,” William said looking up, laying the pen down and folding the paper in half. He turned to Ben and smiled. “I never thanked you for getting Dad to promote me to foreman Ben,” he said and pushed the folded paper to Ben.

Dropping his hand off his goatee, Ben’s face became serious as he picked up the paper and read it. His eyes got big then looked over the paper at William then back down to the paper. His eyes moved over the paper and his mouth was moving but nothing was coming out, like he was memorizing.

Ben closed his eyes and moved his mouth like he was talking for several seconds then opened his eyes and looked at the paper, reading. Suddenly, he smiled and crumpled the paper up and shoved it in his mouth making William and everyone else gasp in shock. “I didn’t say eat it!” William cried out.

Chewing the paper up and swallowing hard, Ben rubbed his throat as Buck passed him a bottle of water. “Thanks,” Ben said hoarsely and then drained half the bottle.

They all stared at him in shock as Ben looked at William smiling. “I didn’t want anyone to see my thank you letter, seeing as how I got emotional,” he grinned reaching over and ruffling William’s hair. “Besides, who’s going to dig it out now?”

“Dad’s right, you’re crazy,” William laughed.

“Among other things,” Sonya said raising her eyebrows.

“Sonya, don’t,” Ben said raising his hands. “Barbara and Sammy moved in with me three weeks ago.”

Sonya froze and William reached over to pat his arm. “I’m glad,” William said. “Mom didn’t like you whoring around.”

“William,” Sonya said snapping out of her shock. “When did you tell Joshua?” she asked looking at Ben.

“Day before the shit hit the fan,” Ben said. “I think he had other things on his mind, Sonya, so don’t be mad that he didn’t tell you.”

She reached over and patted his hand. “I’m not, but you need to tell me these things.”

“Hello?” Buck said from the end of the table. “Will someone address the reason I asked you here?”

“We will say a prayer that Joshua finds out,” Sonya said slowly turning to Buck and looking at the legal pad William had torn the page from. “You are too smart, dear.”

“What? I’ve seen how you can see what was written on a pad after the page has been torn out,” William said with a grin. “Can we go to the store?”

“Of course,” Sonya said getting up. “Which one?”

“I don’t care, I just want to piss those guys following us off,” William grinned.

Buck picked up the phone, “I’m going to send a deputy with you.”

“Buck, you have one at the house,” Sonya said slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“Right. At your house, where you are not at,” Buck said then spoke into the phone.

“Wow,” William said pointing at the black box beside the windows. “A laser mic disruptor.”

“Huh?” Ralph said standing up.

“It makes it so they can’t use a laser on your windows to hear what’s being said inside,” William explained as Ben and Ralph stood up.

Ralph looked at the box and then at William. “Where do I get one?”

“You can’t as a private citizen, but I’ve got the plans for that one at home.”

Buck stood up and walked over, shaking everyone’s hand. “Please stay safe,” he said looking at Sonya. “If William or you are hurt, Joshua’s not the only one who will deal retribution.”

“We will Buck, but I swear, if they screw with me, they will bite off more than they can chew. Mrs. Anderson is staying at the house with us and she really wants to shoot a fed. She paid some of her friends’ kids to guard her house while she’s at mine and told them to bury anyone they shoot. She told them to plant them in the front flower bed, the ground needs fertilizer.”

William laughed, “Nana brought her double barrel shotgun over and it’s bigger than she is.”

Ben hugged Sonya and William. “I need to go,” he said. “I’m going to do my part on pissing off the feds. I’m on my motorcycle.”

The others watched him walk out and Buck shook his head. “Never in my life would I believe I would be teaming up with Ben.”

“Don’t worry,” William said pulling Sonya to the door. “Dad said he could keep Ben out of trouble, but the only other person that could do it was Gene and he’s going there to tell him about my thank you letter.”

When they’d left, Buck stood alone in his office. “Joshua better instill some fear in his boy,” he said staring at the closed door. “William thinks he’s ten foot tall and bulletproof.”

Chapter Ten

Winding down a small canyon road, Frank slowed as he pulled up to Gene’s shop. Cracking the door of his F250, Frank slowly opened it, knowing a rifle was in Gene’s hands. Even if Frank couldn’t see Gene, Frank knew very well that Gene could see him, and gave Gene time to see who it was. Stepping out slowly, he saw Gene step out of the shop, lowering the barrel of his Winchester 270. “What’s up Gene?” Frank said closing the door of the truck.

“Not much Frank,” Gene said leaning the rifle behind the doorway.

Glancing around the hillsides of the valley that Gene’s house and shop sat in, Frank walked over to the shop as Gene sat down in the doorway. “Me and the rest of the crew was wondering what to do about jobs. With Josh gone and the equipment hidden, we still need to eat.”

“Well, Sonya told me she was going to cover fifty percent of your wages, that plus your rocking chair money, you’ll do well,” Gene said as Frank stopped in front of him.

“Damn it Gene! That’s not what we were worried about. We’re loggers and we want to work not be on the Dole. I haven’t collected unemployment in over a decade. Don’t want to start now, because Sonya can’t keep that up for long,” Frank said scratching his chin and spitting out his chew. “Tell Sonya thanks and we appreciate the offer but we will work and help her and William out, not be a drain on them.”

Watching Frank dig in his pocket, Gene waited until Frank pulled out his can of ‘worm dirt’ and placed a new dip in his lip. Having given up snuff years ago, Gene looked on with a little envy. As Frank closed the can, Gene got up, “Give me that can, I need a dip,” Gene said taking it out of Frank’s hand.

Watching Gene get a dip, Frank was spellbound. Gene sighed, putting the pinch of Copenhagen in his cheek and closing the can, slowly savoring the moment. “Frank, I understand your point. I feel castrated sitting here not working, but Sonya and Will need my help and God knows, Ben’s gonna be a handful. He wants to start a guerilla war on the feds.”

“Yeah, he’s already trying to get me and Kyle to help him,” Frank said spitting a stream on the hard packed ground.

Taking his hat off and running his hand over his head before putting it back on, a habit he had when he was thinking. “There are no jobs around here this time of year. Ours was the only one working,” he said then looked up at Frank. “Tell you what, give me a few days to come up with something that will keep the crew together.

Hearing that from Gene filled Frank with relief. “Okay,” he sighed. “Let us know.”

They continued bullshitting as Gene formulated a plan.

“Well, it’s almost feed time, so’s I’m gonna head for home,” Frank said as he turned and headed for his pickup. “Let me know. Tell Sonya and William that the whole crew is behind Josh and them, and to call if they need something.” Frank settled behind the steering wheel and he started the big Ford up as Gene gave him a nod.

Watching Frank drive off back down the dirt road, Gene grabbed his rifle and headed to the house to get his work phone book and truck keys. He had to make a call that wouldn’t be traced.

Pulling into a pizza parlor in Newport, the only place with a payphone nearby, Gene shut the truck down and looked back down the road. He knew he wasn’t a secret agent, but there wasn’t that much traffic in the panhandle of Idaho and he never saw another vehicle behind him.

Satisfied, he climbed out of the truck and walked over to the payphone, unloading a handful of quarters and setting his phonebook down. Grabbing the phone from the cradle, he dialed a number in Western Washington and a computer voice told him the amount for the first three minutes. Giving a startle, Gene started feeding quarters in the phone. “Damn near can drive there for that,” he mumbled.

When the quarters were in, the line started ringing as Gene looked around and saw a group of kids walk out of the pizza parlor. On the seventh ring, “What do you want?” a raspy voice answered.

“Damn Eddy, you ain’t got any better in all these years,” Gene shouted back at Eddy Shore.

“Who the hell is this?” Eddy snapped back.

“It’s Gene, you grouchy old coot, from Idaho.”

“Shit,” Eddie grumbled. “What the hell is going on with Josh over there? The news is calling him a terrorist, by God. I know better than that. Them fed jay-birds probably had it coming. I know they sure do over here on the ‘wet side’. Damn, I may go and find me some to shoot.”

“Calm down Eddy. I need to talk some sense to you,” Gene sighed. Eddy Shore was a real old time logger. He was an old friend of Joshua’s dad. Eddy was ninety-one and a veteran of the Second World War.

“Since when do you know anything about sense?” Eddy grumbled and shut up.

“Eddy, did you ever transfer the titles to the Madill tower and link belt loader Josh bought from you ten years ago?”

“Hell no,” Eddy chuckled. “Josh said that an old logger always had to keep his equipment or he might have to go to work for some other outfit. Why? Besides, we shook on it and that’s a bond better than any paper.”

“You think you could find a small job for me?” Gene asked lowering his voice as the kids walked past him.

“What?!” Eddy bellowed over the phone and Gene yanked it away from his ear to hear the tirade. “You turnin’ your back on Josh?! Damn your hide, I oughta come over there and kick your butt!”

Bringing the phone back to his ear, “Calm down,” Gene shouted. “This will be to help Josh, but you could get dragged into this.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddy said calmly and Gene heard him spit.

“I want to keep our crew together and working till Josh gets this worked out. There’s just no work here right now.”

“Well, I heard down at Kelly’s that there was a small independent mill looking for a high lead side to do a thirty-acre cedar job near La Push for the Indians. Said none of the locals were available for a small job.”

Taking his hat off, brushing his hair and replacing it as he thought, Gene jumped when the electronic voice said. “Please deposit a dollar fifty for more time.” Shoving quarters in, Gene wondered how they could sleep charging that much.

Six quarters later, Gene spoke. “Could you call the mill and try to get the job in your name?”

“Iffen it will help Josh, I’ll try.”

“Do it now and I’ll call you back in two hours,” Gene said.

“Don’t give a man much time to un-retire, but I understand the hurry up,” Eddie replied and he hung up.

Looking at the phone, “Damn, he’s sure short on formalities,” Gene mumbled. Hanging up the phone, and getting back the few quarters left, Gene grabbed his phone book and headed inside. He sat down and a waitress came over holding out a menu.

“No thank you,” he grinned, “Pineapple and sausage pizza and beer.”

Two hours and a few Millers later, Gene walked across the street to the Gas & Go and bought a roll of Copenhagen. When the clerk went to get his change, “Quarters please,” Gene said, opening the roll and pulling out a can.

Dumping the quarters in his pocket, Gene walked out the door opening the can. “I should shoot the feds myself, getting me riled up enough to start dipping again,” he grunted and shoved a dip in his lip.

Snatching the phone up, he dialed the number and just started shoving quarters into the phone, hoping the little electronic lady inside choked on them. Hearing the phone start ringing, he stopped with the quarters as the ringing stopped for the second time and Eddy shouted, “What took you so long?!”

“I had to buy some chew,” Gene answered spitting.

“Well, Eddy Shore Old Time Logging is back in business, if you want. The mill said I could have the contract,” Eddy explained. “The damn pirates will barely cover wages, but at least I ain’t got no equipment payments and the mill will cover trucking. And the timber is all cut.”

“Good,” Gene sighed. “What shape’s the tower and loader in?”

“Okay, as far as I know. I just store it for Josh. Probably take two weeks to get it up to speed.”

“Tell you what I’m gonna do,” Gene spoke thoughtfully. “Frank and four or five others will be over next week to start repairs. I’ll get them a grub stake of ten to twenty grand to cover cost.” He was sure Sonya would cover his gamble.

“Now, you’ll have to pay their wages and expenses. We need to keep Josh and Sonya out of this to protect his equipment over there. Use the grubstake until the mill starts paying. I’ll see you receive the profits,” Gene finished and yanked the phone away.

“FUCK you AND the horse you rode in on GENE!” Eddy bellowed and Gene swore he felt his hair and beard blow back. “I’m gonna come over there and kick your ass. I don’t want one dadburn dime for this. I respect that young man too much!”

Hearing Eddy take a breath, Gene brought the phone to his mouth. “Easy, old timer.”

“Don’t ‘easy me’. I’m so hopping mad, I may just take that .45 I kept after Iwo Jima and start a war against them tree hugging brush hippies and feds over there,” Eddy growled and spat.

“Don’t do that!” Gene snapped. “That won’t help Josh or his crew.” Not hearing Eddy rant, Gene continued. “Just keep them working and doing what they know best. They’re good men as you know, but they’ll get in trouble if they stay here.”

A grunt sounded over the phone and Gene took that as okay. “Is that hot-blooded Ben coming over? You know, Clallam County jail’s got a cell named in his honor and the county sure could use the bail money. Josh always pays to keep him on the job.”

“I don’t know, Ben’s about to go crazy over this. He’ll most likely stay over here,” Gene sighed really wanting Ben to go. “Tell the county, sorry about lost revenue.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Eddy huffed.

“Eddie, you call Frank and set up the details once you get the contract signed. Be best if you don’t call me till this is over. And Eddie, keep all this on the QT.”

“You don’t worry about that. Tell Josh if you can, I’m behind him one hundred percent,” Eddy said in a cheery voice.

“I will. Frank can catch you up on what went down when he gets….,” Gene stopped as the electronic bitch came on. ‘Please deposit a dollar fifty to continue.’

“Hope you choke woman,” he growled shoving quarters in till the phone came back on.

Hearing Eddy breathing, Gene continued. “When Frank gets there, the phones will be bugged.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Eddy said as he hung up.

“Uh! Bye,” Gene replied hearing the dial tone. “Crusty old coot,” Gene said hanging the phone up.

Gathering his quarters, he stuffed them back in his pocket and opened the door of his F350. He turned the key waiting for the glow plugs to shut off as he thought. “Hopefully Frank and the others will go for this deal,” he mumbled and fired up the engine and headed to Frank’s.

Chapter Eleven

After sleeping for ten hours and spending a day organizing the dugout, Joshua loaded up basic equipment on the horse and mule way before sunrise and set off to get radio reception. Not only the two police radios he took but public radio. He needed to get information about what was going on. The forest and mountains where he was currently located were called ‘a wilderness’ for a reason, and radio reception was impossible.

He headed for Priest Lake, staying on the west side since there was nothing on the upper north side but wilderness; but there were cell and radio relay towers there. They served the state park on the east side of the lake and a few parks on the west.

Taking off his cap, Joshua reached up and rubbed his buzz cut head. The inch-long hair on his head felt funny till he rubbed his clean shaved face. “I look weird,” he mumbled and put his cap back on. Luckily, the only part of him that was weathered were his forearms, his face was just as white as the rest of his body. He had been worried that half his face would be ghost white from his beard, but there was very little difference.

“Momma would be happy,” he said reaching down to pat King and looking back at the mule. He was worried about leaving the mule because if anyone did come near, a mule in a rope corral would be suspicious. If he would’ve left it, he would have to go back just to feed it, so the mule was trailing along.

At noon, he reached the bottom of Upper Priest Lake and the FBI radio started to crackle with weak signals. When he was half way to Priest Lake, he was getting a good signal for both radios and he started to try and decipher what was being said.

Reaching back in the saddle bag, he pulled out the cellphone William had given him. He turned it on to see the screen say hello as the phone powered up. Looking around through the thick forest, he looked up, barely seeing blue sky above him.

Chris had been in the Gulf War and had taught everyone what the government could do. He’d taught everyone how to hide from thermal scopes and drones whether they wanted to learn or not. When Chris got out of the Army, he’d had a serious distrust for the government. At the time, Joshua didn’t understand, but then he started seeing how the government treated its veterans.

‘NNNNN’ rang out as his hand vibrated and Joshua jumped in the saddle. “Jesus!” he cried looking down and realized it was the cellphone vibrating. “Oh fuck,” he said tapping the screen and pulling King to a stop. His mind filled with horrors of his family in danger as he waited for the message to load.

When it came up he saw it was sent yesterday and read, ‘Hey, it’s red goatee. Son said they could trace certain words so can only use plain ones so follow. First from red goatee, your mini me is so smart it’s scary. Second, friend with a star on his chest says neither he nor any like him are after you but the other ones like you met are and they don’t want to bring you in. The bad cowboys will terminate you on sight. Friend with star says adjust your plans accordingly, if you make a mistake it will probably be your last. Don’t hide, evade. The star is standing up for you but he’s fighting the ocean with his bare hands. FYI, star put a man at your house and by the time you get this one of the crew will be there at all times.

Family is good but feds are watching them and all of us close so don’t plan on another message soon unless shit happens. Family more worried about you than them. This part had to memorize word for word from mini me.

Sky is high, road is long but we are holding. Miss you but stay dark. Only use what I gave you near a place with others. Machines are grabbing anything in the air, keep what you’re reading this on off if at all possible. Luv u.

I ate the message mini me gave me so if I was caught they would have to shove a hand up my ass, hehe ;)’

Joshua quickly dug out a notepad and copied the message then erased it turning off the phone. The message William had made Ben memorize was a saying that Joshua used a lot. ‘As the sky is high and the road is long and trouble never comes alone’.

Joshua looked at the words he’d written, feeling irritated. When William said he would contact him when it was safe and very adamant about it, Joshua asked if he would give him a message if the feds were hassling them hard and this answered his question. Since Sonya and William thought it was worth the risk to contact him this soon, Joshua knew they believed Buck. He tucked the notepad in his jacket and kicked King in the flanks. “We have some shopping to do,” he said and King started moving as he guided him between the trees.

Pulling out his FM radio, Joshua turned it on to hear the announcer give the hourly report of what was going on.

***

Not even ten miles away, Homeland Agent Griffey looked around the table at Burrows and Moore. Homeland had taken over every resort on the west side of Priest Lake and the motel in Nordman. The local population was beyond hostile, but didn’t do anything threatening.

Outside of Elkin Lodge, they had two huge tents set up for command centers, and the restaurant was told to have a buffet set up at all hours. Inside the lodge was a conference room where the group heads met to deal with problems and outline the hunt.

Standing at the head of the table in the conference room, Griffey looked at his number two, FBI Agent Burrows. “So, any other problems with the hicks around here?”

“The owner of the store in Nordman has closed it, and the store to the small community north of us closed as well. The Dollar store is open though,” Burrows said looking at his notes. “We are starting to get caravans of cars of lookie loos and protesters. We need to stop them from getting close to the command area.”

Turning to a huge map on the wall, Griffey pointed. “I want a roadblock set up here, south of Lamb Creek at Outlet Bay. Then another, north of Priest Lake at this State Park. That will seal the area for the most part.”

“You do have people that live here, Griffey,” Moore said shaking his head. “You can’t deny them access to their property.”

Griffey looked over his shoulder at Moore, “If they have valid ID that states they have a purpose here then they can pass but otherwise, they are hindering an ongoing manhunt.”

“We don’t even know for sure Anderson is in this area,” Moore said shaking his head.

Stepping over to the table, Griffey picked up a thick folder. “Your report said it was the most likely place and we’ve had no reports of his truck being seen.”

“I know what’s in my report Griffey, but I also said he’s familiar with the area in the Lolo forest to the south. It’s just as rugged and remote. You can’t start putting all our resources in one area until we have more information.”

“It’s a place to start,” Griffey snapped. “Have you given up on getting local law enforcement help?”

Giving a huge sigh, “Yes,” Moore said. “I don’t know what you did, but boy, did you piss them off.”

“My job,” Griffey snapped harder. “We will have National Guard troops here by this evening. The governor has only allowed for them to man the roadblocks. They aren’t allowed on any search team.”

“How did you get the governor to sign off on that?” Burrows snickered.

Griffey turned with his customary cold smile. “The president said if he didn’t at least provide some assistance, he would federalize them and do it himself.”

Grabbing a legal pad, Burrows chuckled. “We have enough support now to start searching the area, where do we start?”

Moving to another map that was shaded from the west side of Priest Lake following Highway 57, to the town of Priest Lake forming the eastern border, then to the east side of the Pend Oreille River forming the western border, north to the Canadian border, and south to the Pend Oreille River. “This is our search area until we have other leads,” Griffey said outlining the box with his finger.

“Are you crazy?” Moore blurted out.

Turning around, Griffey shook his head. “It’s only twenty-five miles wide and fifty long. I’ve had larger search areas before and caught my suspect,” he almost growled.

“That’s almost a million acres and this isn’t the Midwest or the South. That is mountain wilderness out there with minimal roads, if you can call a logging track a ‘road’,” Moore said shaking his head. Then, he looked at another map that outlined the Lolo forest to the south and it was even bigger. Knowing they didn’t have the resources to search where they were now, he just left that one alone.

“Agent Moore,” Griffey said crossing his arms over his chest. “The state police and Forestry Service are providing guides, and the military searches for terrorists in mountains with much more rugged terrain than this.”

“We aren’t the military,” Moore snapped. “This isn’t Afghanistan. These mountains here are covered in thick forest, so air is all but useless. You could hide an army in that million acres and it would take an army to find them. We are looking for one man who knows how to move, live, and survive in the mountains. An army couldn’t help us find him. We need intelligence of where he would likely go, so we can narrow our search.”

“That’s your job,” Griffey said with a curt nod.

Leaning over the table, Moore looked at Griffey hard, to show he wasn’t intimidated by the man. “I was handed this mess four days ago and my staff and I are still compiling data, building a more detailed profile. Hell, I was just given a list of his mother’s assets last night.”

Dropping his arms to his side as his face hardened. “What do you mean, you were only handed his mother’s assets last night?”

“Just what I said. Last night, and my team is still going through them.”

Griffey looked over at Burrows. “You said we had everything two days ago.”

“Well, Moore wanted his mother’s holdings and a few others, like his wife and friends. It’s taking some time to gather that much data on that many people,” Burrows said nonchalantly.

Stepping over to the table and leaning over, “You get all the material Moore asked for by tonight. Call the NSA and put a priority on it now,” Griffey snapped.

“I already have,” Burrows said trying to not act scared. “They told me that much banking information takes time without a warrant.”

“Well, get a warrant,” Griffey snapped.

Swallowing, trying to wet his throat, “The judge wouldn’t give us the warrants to get information on his friends. He said it wasn’t a valid reason and referred to it as fishnet tactics.”

“Which judge?” Griffey said picking up a phone.

“Edward Wright,” Burrows said reaching for a bottle of water.

“This is Homeland Agent IC Steven Griffey. You need to get word to Judge Edward Wright that he needs to start playing ball here,” he almost yelled into the receiver. “I don’t give a shit if he’s a federal judge, do it!”

Moore shook his head, “Don’t threaten a federal judge, Griffey. They don’t like that.”

Covering the mouthpiece as he listened, Griffey looked over at Moore. “Like I give a shit, we work for the same boss and he can be replaced.”

Moore shook his head as Griffey took his hand away from the receiver. “Thank you, now find another judge to sign the warrants in the next hour,” he said and then listened. Shaking his head, “No, we can’t do that with this much information on multiple subjects. I want all financial, medical, real estate, phone, transportation… Basically, I want everything from the day they were born. If they went to preschool, I want to know what pictures they finger-painted.”

Griffey listened. “Hold on,” he said then looked at Burrows. “How many subjects?”

“Eighty-six,” Burrows said and Griffey relayed that into the phone as Moore leaned over.

“Burrows, I only asked for twelve,” he whispered.

Reaching over and grabbing the folder with Joshua’s profile, Burrows held it up. “You have eighty-six probable people of interest in here.”

“Burrows, some of those people are law enforcement and attorneys, others are rather wealthy. We really don’t need to piss them off,” Moore said as Griffey continued talking on the phone. “We are already in a shit storm here.”

Shaking his head, “Only locally, three out of four in the rest of the nation are behind us. Many believe that Joshua has powerful friends in the state government that are helping him,” Burrows said with a smile.

“How on earth would they even come to that conclusion?”

“Two of the networks reported a probable link yesterday. The others all picked up with it, and as far as the rest of the nation is concerned, it’s a bunch of hicks that don’t want to work with the government.”

Sitting back in his chair, Moore shook his head. “Three out of four ain’t bad, but that still leaves over seventy million in favor of the suspect, and that’s a lot of people.”

“When we hit Waco, six out of seven supported us,” Burrows said.

Moore chuckled. “Yeah, and six months later, three out of four were against our actions.”

“So?” Burrows said as Griffey yelled at the phone. “We were done and nothing came about, did it?”

“Depends on what you mean,” Moore said as Griffey slammed the phone down.

“The data will be here in the morning,” he said puffing and looked over at Burrows. “The NSA said they can’t risk a data sweep that big. It was too much of a risk.”

“That’s what they told me,” Burrows said relieved.

Kicking a chair, Griffey walked back to the head of the table. “You know, it’s hard to catch people when you have rules and they don’t.”

“You should’ve been here when I started twenty-eight years ago, if you think you have rules now,” Moore said chuckling.

“Fuck that,” Griffey said dropping down in his chair. “So, how should I deploy the search teams?”

Giving a startle, Moore looked up at him in shock. “How many teams are we talking about?”

“Eighty teams, each with five men can go in the field tomorrow, and another hundred the day after.”

Looking at the map, Moore shook his head. “A thousand men searching a million acres looking for one man isn’t a needle in a haystack, it’s a grain of sand on a beach.”

“Washington said they will have more personnel here in six days and I should be able to double that number then. But until then, where do you suggest we start?”

“You have the roads out of the area covered?” Moore said looking at the map.

“They will be by sundown. The Canadians are going to have mounted patrols on their side of the border.”

Surprised, Moore looked over at Griffey, “We have mounted patrols?”

Letting out a huff, “Only a few,” Griffey said. “People around here won’t give up their horses and Washington won’t give me the go ahead to seize them because they are afraid of backlash from the animal rights groups.”

“So, how many is a few?”

Leaning over and grabbing a notepad, Griffey ran his finger down the page and stopped halfway. “Three teams will be on horseback. We have fifty forestry vehicles that will be riding what few roads are in the area, but the rest of the teams will be on foot.”

“May I?” Moore said pointing at the notepad. Griffey slid it over and Moore looked over the list of search teams. “Only Idaho State Troopers. No deputies from any department?”

“Nope,” Griffey said leaning back in his chair. “They all said they couldn’t spare the manpower, except for that sheriff in Boundary County. I would like to lock his ass up.”

“You only have a few local forestry service personnel on the teams, most others are from other states,” Moore said reading the list.

“Yeah, a bunch of them quit when the regional forester fired that ranger who’d hired Mr. Anderson,” Griffey said. “We have a few departments on the coast that are going to contribute some men.”

“How in the world are we going to get these guys in every night?” Moore asked looking up at Griffey.

Griffey and Burrows laughed as Griffey leaned over the table. “Why in the hell would we pull them out every night? That would take tremendous resources. No, the teams will stay out for three days, then rotate back for three.”

Moore’s eyes got wide, thinking they were about to have a shit load of search teams lost in the mountains. “Griffey, these are officers, not troops or mountain men. You know how much shit they will have to pack in to live that long? I’ll bet you money now, less than a hundred people here have hiked with a backpack in the last five years. Your own report on the murder site admitted lack of communication was a large factor to consider. Now you’re going to throw eighty teams out and this center is going to keep track of them?”

“Every team will have a satellite phone and we are putting in relays for short range radios in some areas, but every team will also have a long range military grade radio. I asked for drones, but the earliest they’ll be here will be ten days.”

Moore looked back at the map, then down at the list of search teams and then up at Griffey. “And we have enough personnel here to monitor that?”

“Yes, it’s not like we are going to war Moore. We are looking for a fugitive.”

Looking back at the map trying to figure out how to keep the teams from getting lost Moore just gave up. “Sorry Griffey, without more information to go on, I can’t even recommend a search pattern.”

“Fine, but as soon as you’ve read what’s coming, I want your report. I’ll start teams on the eastern border and have them push west till you come up with something,” he said standing up. “Washington is demanding we do something, so they will be happy with the teams out.”

Glad he hadn’t offered a suggestion, Moore looked at the map. He knew he could put every team they had in the five square miles off to the north of them, from the lake to Nordman road, and it would take them a month just to search that. “The shit is about to hit the fan. We are going to have to send search teams out to find other lost search teams,” he mumbled gathering up his stuff.

Agent Moore didn’t know just how right he was, but had left out one factor: Joshua. One man that had been pushed too far and had decided to fight back, and fight back hard. Going after family is a breaking point for any man.

Chapter Twelve

Hearing King snort and shift his feet, Joshua sat up looking around and saw it was still dark. Letting the 1911 in his hand go, he lifted his arm and was about to push the button for the light on his watch and stopped. “Not hunting elk or deer dummy,” he said to himself and covered up with his sleeping bag and hit the button. Shaking his head seeing it was 0430, he waited until the light went off and then got out of the sleeping bag.

It was a clear sky with a half-moon, but he was under the trees and they blocked a lot of the light. Looking off the spur he was on just north of Blacktail Mountain, he could see just fine. He looked over at King, “What did you wake me up for? I know this is late for me, but I kind of liked it.”

Then he realized King was looking down into the valley. Going over to his gear on the ground, he dug out his night vision scope. After using Chris’, he went and bought one and a set of goggles. He chuckled when people complained that a night vision scope cost several grand. He paid that much for his regular rifle scopes. The one on his Lapua alone cost him over two grand, but he could hit an elk a mile away with no problem.

Turning the scope on, he waited for it to warm up. That was the only thing he didn’t like about the night vision stuff, it ate batteries like a kid eats cookies and milk. He had his rechargeable batteries that he could put on his foldout solar panel, but they lasted for shit in the things. Regular batteries would give him about eight to ten hours of constant use. Rechargeable batteries, he was ecstatic if he got four hours.

Lifting the big scope up, he looked over the draw that led to the valley floor then over the valley not finding anything. “King, you woke me up for shit,” he mumbled and stopped. Tilting his head, he heard a faint noise. “What the hell?” he said and glanced up, making sure he was covered from above.

About twenty yards from the edge of the ridge that ran along the spur, he dropped down and eased up, staying near tree trunks. He stopped by a nice Douglas fir and patted the trunk. “Man, this is some good timber,” he said like the logger he was and glanced around at the other trees near him. “I would like to log this area.”

Thinking about that, he noticed the noise was getting louder and coming from the south-east. Without the night vision scope, he could see the logging road that ran down the valley off a ridge directly across the draw between the spur he was on. That was why he’d chosen this one to camp on.

He lifted the scope up to the ridge and the road came over to follow along the spur opposite from him. The draw that separated them was almost a mile wide. Looking at the ridge line with the scope, he saw it would flash every once and a while. Dropping on his butt, Joshua waited to see what was coming.

All these roads were shut down and only a few would open when all the snow was gone. The Forestry Service, Fish and Game along with the EPA had this area on lockdown because of the low land Caribou that sometimes was said to drift down from Canada. Joshua had lived here his whole life and hunted and had never seen one of the damn things. At last report, there were like thirty left, so they’d shut down half a million acres to protect what he filed away as make-believe animals that were dying off. No snowmobiles, ATV’s, cars or logging were allowed here, period. But horses were and that’s why Joshua hunted up here and had found the dugout.

In the quiet of the mountains, the noise grew and he knew it was a vehicle of some kind. He was at forty-three-hundred feet now and below the snowline. The only areas around him with snow were the mountain tops, and most of those in this area were only at fifty-five hundred feet. So whoever was coming in a vehicle wasn’t a civilian. Joshua was still surprised they’d let other feds drive around here. Most roads now were closed and had been reclaimed, so only a few remained.

It wasn’t long until he saw headlights come over the ridge and follow the winding road down the spur to the valley. “One would think they would be a little more covert,” he said lifting the scope and had to turn the intensity down because of the headlights.

Turning up the magnification, he could tell it was an SUV of some kind and looked really new as it slipped and slid over the muddy road. “I can tell they aren’t from around here, driving during the thaw without mud grips.”

Watching the vehicle drive down the logging road, almost going over the side and crashing into the draw, Joshua was amazed they had made it this far back. He watched the SUV until it made it to the valley floor and stopped, over half a mile away and almost a thousand feet below him. He watched five people get out and move to the back and open the hatch. They pulled out packs and rifles and he could tell the rifles were AR types from the outline.

When the group had on packs, they moved off the road heading up the valley toward Plowboy Mountain. The SUV turned around and drove off, following the road back out. Joshua got up and eased back over to his camp and patted King’s head. “Sorry, you always let me know when something is around. Who needs a dog when you have a sixteen hand horse that can do the same thing, and can beat up a bear?”

Rolling up his sleeping bag, Joshua stuffed it in the bag and attached it to his pack. “Think it’s time for me to be covert,” he said and started stripping. He pulled out his 3D hunting outfit and put it on. Grabbing his AR and checking it, he put it down and saddled King.

When he was done, he walked over to the mule. “Sorry, but you have to carry it and I really don’t like you being close to me,” he said grabbing the pack saddle. Yesterday, he’d moved down to a forestry service supply cabin and had broken in. It held explosives that they used during the fire season to blow fire lanes. Joshua knew about it because he and his crew had worked on fires many times.

In all, he got two hundred pounds of linked C4 explosive that looked like sausages and a roll of det cord with caps and detonator. He wanted to call someone and complain that the forestry service had stored the caps in the same building with the explosives. At one time, he had his explosive license, but let it go because it was too much of an aggravation to renew it. But he still worked with explosives and knew how to use them.

After the pack saddle was on, he started loading the deadly sausage links that were packed in boxes. Then he put the spool of det cord on and patted the mule’s neck. “If you don’t mind, don’t follow close,” he said and walked over to King, putting on his pack and grabbing his AR. He checked the two clip-on holsters he had on his belt that held spare magazines and his 1911 on his right side.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said and climbed on King. He guided King down to the valley floor then across and up the slope, stopping about halfway up before he got to the ridge and then headed north up the valley.

By the time the sun came up, Joshua was parallel to the five as they stopped half a mile below him. They hadn’t been hard to follow since the group had flashlights, moved at a snail’s pace, and he didn’t need his night vision scope to know where they were. When daylight broke, he thought they would move faster, but they really didn’t.

It did take some effort to keep track of them during the daylight because of the trees. Joshua would have to find an area that had a sharp slope and wait there until he caught glimpses with his binoculars. Watching the group, he knew this was probably the first time they had carried backpacks. Judging by the way they were moving, those packs had to be heavy as hell.

At midmorning, the group stopped in a clearing next to a stream that followed the valley floor. Four of the five had on vests like soldiers wore on TV, and those four had on a type of combat helmet he hadn’t seen before. He watched the group take off gear and collapse and he could see their chests rising up and down rapidly as they panted hard. “How in the hell are you supposed to find me if you stay on the low ground?” he wondered.

“Holy shit,” he said and noticed that one man, standing away from the others, was wearing high-top tennis shoes like he’d bought William to play basketball. “You are stupid as hell.”

Studying the group, he noticed the other four were paired off as they laid in the grass resting against their packs and high-top was off to the side, alone. When two stood up and picked up their black soldier vests and put them back on, Joshua saw FBI on the back in big white letters. He moved his binoculars to the other two still laying down to see if they had something on their vests, but their vests were just camouflage like he hadn’t seen before.

High-top picked up a thing with suspenders that held magazines and put it on with the magazines at his belly. He watched them all pick up their packs and almost swore he could hear them grunt half a mile away. “What the hell are they carrying that weighs so much?” he wondered as the group started moving along the valley and back into the trees.

Lowering the binoculars, Joshua started having doubts about what he was planning on doing. If it was guys like this coming to find him in the mountains, he didn’t have anything to worry about. “No, this may just be a dumb group,” he sighed. “Their friends and coworkers started this fight and I’m going to give it to them.”

Moving back to King and the mule, Joshua climbed on and paralleled the group below him. By noon, the five had stopped three more times and he noticed, if they came across a clearing beside the stream, they were taking a break. Pulling out a map, Joshua shook his head, seeing the group had been moving for seven hours and only traveled three miles along a valley.

Granted it wasn’t a flat valley, but for Idaho and the North West, it was beyond flat. The group had been moving so slow, Joshua had gotten off of King and had led him by the reins for the last two hours. Seeing the group take off their packs again, he shook his head. “I’m going ahead,” he said and climbed back on King.

Two miles ahead, he looked down as the valley narrowed and then opened back up and spotted a small glade beside the stream and thought it looked nice. If he thought it looked nice, he knew the group would. Glancing at his watch, he saw that he’d made the two miles in thirty minutes. Dropping his hand, he sighed figuring the group would be here close to dark.

Kicking King, Joshua started looking around for a spot that put the three in better range. It took him an hour, but he found a spot on a sharp cliff just below the ridgeline that overlooked the valley and was almost directly above the small glade.

He got off King and dug out his laser range finder. He was guessing, but he was putting the glade at sixteen hundred yards. Crawling up, he looked at the glade and saw an old log lying parallel to the stream, fifteen yards back from the edge of the stream. Pulling up his range finder, he pressed the button, aiming at the log. “Thirteen hundred and twelve yards, damn, I messed that one up,” he said and lowered the range finder before realizing that he hadn’t taken the slope into account.

“Five is too many, even from this distance,” he mumbled realizing the .338 would take one second to get there. A person could move out of the path of a bullet in one second, so you had to aim where they were going to be. And if he started shooting, he figured he could get three, but the other two would be able to make it to the trees.

An idea struck him and he thought hard and slowly started to grin. “That would work,” he said with his grin turning into a smile. He walked back to King and slung his AR on the saddle. He was under no illusion, it would be just as effective to take the little 5.56 bullets out of the magazine and throw them into the valley as it would be to shoot them.

He pulled out the Lapua from the right scabbard then walked around and pulled out the Sharps from the left. He dug in his saddle bag for the box of shells for the Sharps and another magazine for the Lapua. “If this works, I’m registering for a record,” he said heading back to the cliff.

Smoothing out an area, he laid down the Sharps and extended the bipod on the Lapua, then put it beside the Sharps. Putting the ammo and clips down, he walked back to King and tied him to a tree, then untied the lead rope to the mule and tied it to another tree. They had both been hunting with him for years and were gun trained, but he wasn’t taking a chance they wouldn’t run off if the group shot back.

It would be impossible for them to fire accurately from that range, but anyone can get lucky. Joshua didn’t know how the animals would react if bullets started landing around them. They couldn’t be seen from the valley below and if you can’t see it, you can’t hit it. But bullets striking trees might scare them enough to run off and Joshua wasn’t in the mood to fight this war on foot.

Heading back to his sniper spot, he grabbed a few bushes and laid them on the lip of the cliff. Taking off his backpack, he dropped it in front of the rifles and got down on his belly. He flipped the Vernier sight up and locked it in place. Pulling the slide knob out, he slid it up almost to the top, stopping just below thirteen hundred and locked it down. The record recorded for a Sharps rifle in battle was just over fifteen hundred yards at the second battle of Adobe Walls. When he’d shot at black powder events, Joshua could hit the fifteen hundred steel plate, and still liked to take the rifle out several times a year and shoot it.

Moving his backpack over, he rested the gun on it, aiming at the clearing. Making adjustments until he was happy, Joshua could move the sight over the clearing by only shifting his weight. Setting the stock down and leaving the barrel on the backpack, he barely had to move over to get behind the Lapua. Taking the quilted scope cover off, he popped the hardcovers open and looked at the glade.

Reaching up, he zoomed in and then looked at his knobs and rotated his elevation, counting clicks until he was at thirteen hundred yards. Setting the stock down, he grabbed the binoculars and looked down in the valley. No wind was moving up here, but that was a long way. Not seeing trees or the grass in the glade moving, he set the binoculars down and took off his watch.

Setting the watch on the side of the backpack, Joshua moved behind the Sharps and squeezed the trigger. Since it wasn’t cocked or loaded nothing happened, but he dropped the Sharps and moved behind the Lapua and aimed where he had for the Sharps and squeezed the trigger.

Looking over at his watch, he shook his head. “Four seconds is too long,” he said and practiced some more. Making adjustments to both rifles and his backpack, Joshua could move from the Sharps to the Lapua in just under three seconds.

He pulled the Lapua back and made sure the suppressor was seated tight, then set it back down and did a few more practice runs; like he shot the Sharps then dropped it and pulled up the Lapua. Still taking almost three seconds, but he was okay with that and he looked at the end of his Sharps. “Dad would’ve shot me if I had put a suppressor on it,” he said and pulled out some food and water, getting comfortable.

Chewing a mouthful, he looked at the two rifles, then down at the glade and then back up toward the ridge where the horses were. “Yeah, might need that AR with me, in case those boys don’t stay in the valley,” he mumbled and got up.

Walking back to the horses, Joshua wondered what other mistakes he was making as he grabbed the AR off the saddle horn. He wasn’t a warrior but by God, he was going to fight. They couldn’t take what was his with no reason other than they wanted it. Checking his AR, he moved back down to his sniper spot and got comfortable.

He grabbed the magazine for the Lapua and slid it into the magazine well. Grabbing the bolt, he chambered a round and set the stock down. Grabbing the box of ammo for the Sharps, he pulled out one of the long two and seven eights inch long cartridges. With his fingertips, he squeezed the forty-five caliber paper patch bullet making sure it was seated in the brass case. All of the Sharps ammo, he hand-loaded. It wasn’t until a few years ago that he could order lead shot for it, he used to have to pour his own.

One area he did cheat was that he used smokeless powder, instead of black powder. He wasn’t in competition anymore and smokeless powder burned hotter, faster, and didn’t fill the air with a billowing cloud of smoke. This rifle had been passed down through the family and Joshua had a replica somewhat like it that was used in Quigley Down Under, and Gene had borrowed it. But this rifle had a thirty-six-inch barrel, where the replica had a thirty-four.

Satisfied with the bullet, he dropped the breech and slid it into the barrel and closed the breech up. He got down behind the guns and waited, every once and a while looking down at the glade and valley, to see if he caught site of the group. Getting bored, he started running through his mind how he could fight back and got several good ideas.

It was almost 1700 when he saw the group several hundred yards up the valley, heading toward the glade. He had almost packed up and moved up the valley to find them. “Guys, almost five hours to cover two miles?” he mumbled catching glimpses of them through the trees.

When the first one entered the glade, from the expression on his face, one would think he’d won a prize. He took off his backpack letting it drop and moved over to the stream, dropping to his knees and splashing water on his face, and Joshua realized it was high-top.

The two FBI guys came in next and stumbled over to the log, dropping their packs and shedding their vests, letting them land hard on the ground. They both dropped down and leaned back on the log. Zooming the binoculars as the two took off their helmets, he saw their hair was drenched. “Guys, it’s in the low sixties, you shouldn’t be sweating that much,” he mumbled catching movement as the last two came into the glade. Like everyone else, they dropped their gear and collapsed, but laid against their own packs.

He could see their mouths moving, but over half a mile away, the words weren’t going to reach him. Watching high-top stagger away from the stream to his pack, Joshua felt sorry for them. They’d worked so hard to move in the mountains and he was going to shoot them.

Digging into his backpack, high-top pulled out a rather large radio. Extending the antenna out, he held a headset to his mouth and Joshua could see his lips moving. “Dude, you’re in the bottom of a valley, I don’t care what kind of radio that is. You would have better luck with smoke signals,” Joshua ridiculed them from thirteen hundred yards away.

From the expression on high-top’s face, he was figuring out what Joshua already knew, radios don’t reach far at the bottom of steep valleys. Watching high-top hit the radio a few times and repeatedly calling on the radio, Joshua shook his head in wonder. Laying the radio to the side, he could see all of them were talking as high-top dug in his backpack again, pulling out a black pack that looked like a shaving kit.

“I’m putting them out of their misery,” Joshua said as high-top pulled out what looked like an antique cellphone that people used to call ‘bricks’. “Cellphones don’t work if radios don’t idiot.”

He watched high-top fold out a thick stubby antenna and began waving the phone around. Then, high-top looked over at the FBI guys as one pointed over the log he was resting against to the top of the ridge behind them. High-top held out one hand with the middle finger extended.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was said then but he’s right, you need to move up, but please don’t,” Joshua mumbled and looked at the trees and grass, seeing no movement from wind. Setting the binoculars down and taking the glove off of his right hand, he pulled the Sharps to his shoulder and rested his cheek on the stock.

Aiming at the two FBI guys, he practiced two more times moving from the Sharps to the Lapua and felt good about it. It wasn’t taking him any longer, but he couldn’t move any faster. But now, he had real aiming points he could use.

The only one not lying down was high-top as he looked at the big ass cellphone and then at the two guys lying down that wore the camo-soldier vests. Taking a deep breath, Joshua moved the sight, aiming at the FBI guy on the right lying next to his buddy. Seeing the bubble was center line, meaning the gun was held straight up and down, Joshua closed his left eye and rested the sight just under the FBI guy’s chin as he pulled the set trigger and heard a ‘click’.

Moving off the set trigger to the primary trigger, he let his breath out slowly as his index finger brushed the trigger. ‘Boom’ sounded and Joshua dropped the Sharps and grabbed up the Lapua and rested it on the FBI guy on the left, squeezing the trigger. ‘Pfft’ the rifle sounded with the suppressor as it jumped in his arms. Since the Lapua traveled over three thousand feet per second, it got there a split second after the big Sharps did. And both agents were hit at almost the exact same time.

Racking the bolt and chambering another round, he aimed at the two wearing the camouflage vests. Squeezing the trigger, he saw high-top turn to the FBI guys as he racked the bolt, never taking his eye from the scope. He saw the three look around as the sound of the Sharps reached them from the first target.

As he aimed at the other camo guy, he saw the first jerk as the bullet hit him in the chest and Joshua squeezed the trigger as high-top and his target turned their heads toward the one who was hit. Racking the bolt, he moved the crosshairs to high-top as the bullet hit number four.

High-top jumped up, looking over his shoulder at the two FBI guys rolling around on the ground and he took off, running up the slope. Joshua gave him a lead and squeezed the trigger, then racked the bolt again, seeing he’d missed and the bullet had impacted behind high-top.

Adjusting his aim, Joshua took a deep breath letting it out slowly and keeping his lead on high-top as he ran up the slope, and squeezed the trigger. Running up the steep slope, high-top had slowed down considerably and Joshua’s bullet impacted in front of him. “Fuck,” Joshua snapped, racking the bolt and adjusting again.

The slope was so steep now that high-top was using his hands to climb it. Letting his breath out, Joshua squeezed the trigger, feeling the gun jump. Not taking his eye off the scope, he reached under the gun, dropping the empty magazine and grabbed the full one. As he was putting it in the rifle, he saw the bullet hit high-top above the pelvis, just to the left of the spine.

Reaching back with his left hand where the round had hit, high-top rolled down the steep slope he’d tried so hard to climb. Seating the magazine, Joshua moved the crosshairs back to the group and saw all four were rolling around. The first guy looked like he was holding his crotch and Joshua took a deep breath and slowly let it out, aiming at the man’s chest.

Squeezing the trigger, he held the scope on the man and watched the bullet hit him in the center of the chest. He moved to the other FBI guy and saw he was holding his chest, but not rolling around much. Moving to the other two, Joshua saw one was still and the other was holding his stomach. Aiming at his chest, Joshua squeezed the trigger, watching for impact.

When the bullet hit, Joshua saw it hit near the heart and moved back to high-top, who was trying to crawl away using only his feet. One hand was on his back and the other was holding his stomach. Taking another deep breath, Joshua judged how fast high-top was moving and adjusted his aim before squeezing the trigger.

High-top gave a jerk as the bullet hit him in the center of his back. Shaking his head, Joshua racked the bolt and moved back to the FBI guys to find that both were still. Moving to the other two, the one he had shot twice was twitching. Moving back to high-top, Joshua saw he was yelling as he lay on his back, looking at the sky.

“Sorry, but I didn’t bring but twenty bullets for the Lapua and you might have friends close by,” Joshua said holding the crosshairs on high-top, then moved back to the twitcher and found he was still twitching. Pulling back from the scope, not in the mood to watch anymore, Joshua grabbed the empty magazine and the box of .338 shells and loaded it. Dropping the magazine in the Lapua, he topped it off and then put it back in.

He moved to the Sharps and dropped the breech, pulling out the empty shell and put it in the box. Unlike the Lapua, he had hand reloading equipment and could reload his Sharps rounds. Closing the box, he grabbed his binoculars and looked back down at the group. It didn’t have the definition the scope did, and that was fine with him.

Twitcher was lying still, but high-top was still moving his mouth, so Joshua just waited. It was ten minutes later that high-top became still, and Joshua lowered the binoculars. “You started it,” he said grabbing the rifles and getting up. Seeing his AR on the ground, he set down the Lapua and grabbed it, putting the sling over his shoulder. Grabbing the Lapua, he headed up to the horses and put the rifles away.

He came back down and grabbed his backpack, putting his glove back on and picked up the empty brass for the Lapua. He couldn’t reload it, but when they started looking for this group, he didn’t want to chance someone finding it. Lifting his binoculars, he watched the bodies for ten minutes and didn’t see any movement.

Throwing the strap over his head, Joshua headed back to King and the mule. Tying the mule back to his saddle, Joshua climbed on King and moved away from the cliff to a gentler slope and moved down toward the group.

He stopped just outside the glade and climbed off King, pulling his AR to his shoulder and eased forward. Easing up behind a tree before getting into the clearing, he stopped and looked at each of the bodies and none were breathing. Aiming his rifle at the two camo vest wearers, he moved over to them and reached down to feel for a pulse on their neck, but didn’t feel one.

Shifting his aim to high-top, he walked over and shook his head, seeing the exit wound on his belly from the first shot and the pool of blood around him. Almost walking away, Joshua moved over to feel for a pulse, but didn’t find one. Swinging his AR toward the FBI guys, he moved over to them, coming up behind the log they were resting against.

He looked at the first one he’d shot and cringed, seeing the Sharps bullet had hit him low in the pelvis just above his manhood. “That’s not where I was aiming, just to let you know,” he told the corpse and stepped over the log and saw the massive hole on the guy’s back where the shot from the Lapua had exited from the chest.

Even with the massive exit wound, Joshua checked for a pulse and didn’t find one, nor did he on the other guy. He slung his rifle and went back for King and the mule. Leading them to the stream, Joshua went back to the two FBI guys and straightened them out, side by side.

Going through their pockets and emptying them, Joshua stacked what he got beside each body in a pile. He moved to the others and did the same. When that was done, he stood up and looked at the sky, seeing the sun was close to setting.

“Well, shit,” he said and grabbed King, leading him over to the bodies and grabbing the rope off of the saddle. Using the rope tied to the saddle, Joshua moved the bodies into the trees. Then, keeping the piles of stuff he’d taken out of their pockets, Joshua kept it with each man’s gear, moving everything to the trees.

With the light leaving fast, Joshua led the mule and King away from the killing zone into the trees with the bodies and gear. Taking off his backpack, Joshua sat down and glanced over at the bodies. “I felt worse when I had to shoot Gene’s dog for him,” he finally said, and didn’t know if that was good or bad.

Knowing he couldn’t use light, Joshua dug out his night vision goggles and put them on. He had no depth perception, but he could see fairly well. Taking the saddle off of King, Joshua started setting up camp. After watching the group move down the valley, he wasn’t all that fond of staying down there, but didn’t see another choice.

When King and the mule were taken care of, he fixed some food and sat down, looking at the five piles of gear. Setting down his bowl, he pulled a blanket out of his backpack and went over to the gear he’d sat neatly in a row. Throwing the blanket over his head, turning off his goggles and pulling out a flashlight, Joshua turned on the light and started looking through what he had taken out of their pockets.

He found that high-top was a BATF agent out of Utah, and the camo wearers were Idaho State troopers. “Sorry, guys, but you were with them and coming after me. How you could help people that knock down old women like Ms. Ethel, I don’t know,” he said having heard that and a lot of other stuff on the FM radio.

Looking at the IDs, Joshua turned off the light, flipped the goggles down and walked over to grab his backpack and pulled it over. Covering backup, he flipped the goggles up as he turned them off and turned the flashlight back on. Digging out zip-lock bags, he put each man’s pile in a separate bag. The only one that had a pistol on the body was high-top. The other’s pistols were on their vests, on platforms that buckled to the thigh.

Wanting to check that out later, Joshua pulled the sleeping bag off of each backpack. Throwing the blanket off as he turned off the light, Joshua flipped the goggles down and looked at the two troopers. Shifting his gaze to the FBI and high-top, a plan of intrigue and deception started forming in his head, remembering the broadcast that no sheriff’s department in the state was helping the feds look for him. Thankful for his love of reading, Joshua pulled out two more zip-lock bags.

On the side of high-top’s pack was a combat machete. The only reason Joshua knew that was because Chris had one. It looked like a mutated bowie knife. It was seventeen inches long with a twelve-inch blade that was just under two inches wide and the blade was an eighth of an inch thick. Joshua had only ever carried pocket knives and then, had started carrying the spring-assist knives that he could clip inside his pocket.

He’d always thought the combat machete that Chris had looked neat, but didn’t think it was practical until now as he carried it over to the bodies. Grabbing one of the trooper’s arms, he moved it away from the body and swung at the wrist severing the hand from the body. Stepping over the body, he did the same to the left hand. Picking them up, he put them in a zip-lock bag and did the same for the other trooper.

Cleaning the blade, he put it back and then brought over the sleeping bags. Thankful they were mummy bags, he zipped them open and rolled a body in each one. Walking back, he grabbed his AR and moved down the valley to a small gully he’d seen from his sniper spot, to see if he could hide the bodies there.

Chapter Thirteen

Before the sun came up, Joshua had moved the bodies up to the gully, using the mule to carry them. He wasn’t in the mood to pick them up high enough to put on King. At the head of the gully was a small cave that went back almost thirty feet. The opening was only four feet tall and barely two feet wide, but he was able to drag the bodies in.

When the last one was in, the sky was getting bright and Joshua backed down the gully, doing his best to clear his tracks away. He could track game with the best of them and knew how to tread lightly but without good light, he was doing the best he could. Leading the mule back to the glade, Joshua went to work on ‘cleaning’ the kill zone. He had enough light now that he could do much better work, but only gave himself one hour to do it.

With his hour up, he looked around, satisfied that unless it was someone who knew what they were doing, people would walk over the spot. Grabbing the saddles, he started getting ready to move. He really wanted to go through the packs of the group and check out their equipment, but he was going to apply his hunting to his war: don’t stay around the kill zone.

He wasn’t worried about night because he would’ve heard anyone coming but during the day, he started to wonder if they had stuff that could be tracked. Keeping to the principle that it could be tracked if it sent out radio waves, he would stay in valleys. The part he didn’t like was that he had seen this group only stay in the valley.

One of the FBI guys had had on a nice pair of boots that looked his size and brand new, so Joshua took them off and found they fit great. When the mule was loaded down, Joshua started arranging the packs over King and tossed the boots over the saddle. He didn’t know what the hell those guys had packed in those backpacks because they were heavy as hell, but now he understood why they weren’t moving for shit.

The vests the four had worn weighed around twenty pounds and the packs weighed close to a hundred. As he led King and the mule down the valley, he could tell they were overloaded and kept a gentle pace. Now that it was light, he pulled out his small notebook and flipped it open to where he’d started outlining his plan of attack. Walking along, he added his new ideas.

When he was two miles away from the kill site and just less than three miles northwest of North Priest Lake, Joshua found a gully and buried the explosives, since he planned on using them down this way. After the explosives were buried, he redistributed the packs and climbed on King.

King was half Percheron, but his mom was a Tennessee walker. He was big as hell, but his back wasn’t as wide as a Percheron, so you didn’t have to sit in the splits when you rode him and King had the best of both lines: strength and endurance.

Knowing where he wanted to go, Joshua kept a good pace as he rode King with the mule tailing behind. Stopping a mile east of Hughes Ridge, Joshua guided the horse under a rock overhang. Even sitting on King, he couldn’t touch the overhang till he was thirty yards back.

Climbing off, he pulled the gear off of the mule and what little he’d left on King, setting them in a row. Taking off his jacket, the first thing Joshua did was pull out the bag with the severed hands and poured salt in with them, using all of the salt he had with him.

Putting the bag down, he picked up one of the camo vests and studied it. It opened on the sides and was slipped over the head. Feeling it, Joshua saw the front and back were stiff and hard, so he laid the vest out. Seeing a tag that read ‘Level IV ballistic plate’, Joshua nodded, liking that as he flipped it over and looked at the magazines attached to the front.

At first, he thought the magazines were for a different type of AR, but realized they were just fatter from the neck down. Each magazine was set in a hard plastic-like pouch that you had to ‘pull’ out. Taking off his gloves, Joshua started taking the bullets out and when he’d emptied the magazine, he counted sixty 5.56 rounds. Except looking a little fatter, the magazine was like a regular magazine.

“More bullets is much better,” he said reloading the magazine, and then went through the pouches, finding knives, a multi-tool, a first aid kit, a tactical flashlight, batteries, and a bag at the back left-hand side attached at the waist with a tag.

‘Dump bag’, if Joshua hadn’t heard Chris talk about these, he would’ve gotten the wrong idea really fast. It was a bag worn to toss your empty magazine in, so you could keep up with them. “I’m upgrading,” Joshua said and pulled the other camo vest over. He found it fit him better and pulled the Glock out of the holster.

“Never liked these,” he said and took the vest off. Looking at the FBI vest, the only difference between them and the camo ones, was that they were black with FBI written on the back. Looking at the drop platforms, he knew this because it said it on a tab, Joshua saw one of the holsters held a 1911.

This 1911 had a rail with light and laser and the holster was some type of hard plastic that was designed for the light and laser attachment. Taking the platform off, Joshua saw it could replace the drop holster on the camouflage vest.

He took the agent’s 1911 and took off the light and laser, attaching it to his Springfield 1911. His had a rail system, but he’d never found a holster he liked that would hold a light attachment. When his 1911 slid in perfectly, Joshua smiled and moved to the first pack. It belonged to high-top or the BATF agent. A satchel was attached to the side and Joshua opened it to find maps, notebooks, GPS and other items he could go through later. Making sure the GPS was off, he laid it to the side and started with the pockets on the left side of the pack.

The first thing he pulled out was the ‘shaving bag’ that had held the antique cellphone. Joshua unzipped it and realized quickly, this was no antique. It was so new that some of the cords were still in plastic. He pulled out the phone, saw it was off and set it down. Seeing a booklet inside, he pulled it out, reading, ‘Iridium Satellite Prepaid Phone’.

“They make disposable satellite phones?” he gasped and flipped the book over, his eyes getting wide when he saw the price tag. “Three and a half grand for a phone?! No wonder the fuckers want all my money!”

Repacking the phone, he pulled out the radio and saw it looked brand new and read ‘Harris’ on the front, with a headset attached with spaghetti cord. He had seen National Guard units using radios similar to this, but not this advanced. He pulled the radio out, making sure the thing was off and looked in the pocket he’d pulled it from and found an instruction book. “Guys, I’m so grateful,” he said and laid the book to the side. In the same pocket, he found two spare batteries.

With that pocket emptied, he opened the main compartment and sat back on his knees as he pulled out two six packs of canned cokes. Shaking his head, he put them down and continued laying out a ton of useless equipment, canned food, drinks and snacks. He found over twenty pounds of what he called shit; an electric razor, an electric toothbrush, propane bottles with a portable stove, and other stuff he just shook his head at. He just used heat tabs and wondered why they didn’t.

What he really didn’t understand was when he found ten MREs that had heat tabs in them, and high-top had a dozen cans of food. If he’d been on horseback, Joshua could understand that, but this much unnecessary weight was ridiculous.

Digging more out, Joshua stopped when he pulled out a folded circle of silky cloth. The circle was a flexible wire he could feel. Seeing a snap, he popped it and the circle started opening up and he tossed it away. “Holy shit,” he gasped as the circle opened up in a one-man tent before it even hit the ground. “That has got to be one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen,” he said looking at the blue tent.

It was long enough for one man and the material looked sturdy. Moving over, it did take Joshua a few minutes to figure out how to twist and turn it to fold it back to the circle. After he did, he tossed it again, watching it pop open before it hit the ground. “Well, I’m going to eat my words because I’m taking that. I’ve never used a tent as I’ve moved, but always wanted a light one.”

Folding it back up, he guessed the tent didn’t weigh much over two pounds. Snapping it closed, he laid it aside and continued digging and pulled out six changes of clothes but only one pair of socks. “You were going to be funky smelling,” Joshua mumbled and continued pulling out gear and stopped. He reached down and pulled out a bandolier of 5.56 that held three hundred rounds on stripper clips. What shocked him was the bottom was full of them.

When he was finished, he was looking at six bandoliers of 5.56 ammunition and two boxes of forty caliber bullets. “That’s a bunch of ammo,” he mumbled.

Turning the pack on its side, Joshua emptied the two side pockets, pulling out two hard cases. He opened the first one and pulled out NVG goggles that had four tubes. Not understanding why, he laid it down and opened the other case and found a scope. It wasn’t that big and looked rather puny, coated in thick rubberized plastic as he rolled it over in his hands, but then he looked back in the case and found a pamphlet. ‘FLIR System Scope’ was printed on the pamphlet.

“Oh yeah,” he said and put it back in the case.

Looking at the crap around him, Joshua figured if these guys would’ve left this shit behind, they would’ve moved a lot faster. Leaving out what he wanted, he repacked the backpack. Going through the others, he found they were similarly packed, but the two Idaho Troopers were packed the smartest. Also, neither of them had night vision or thermal gear. Two of the men had binoculars, but Joshua’s were much better.

He looked at the feds’ backpacks, then over at his. Theirs were top-of-the-line expedition packs in a cool camouflage pattern called A-Tac, like the vest. It was printed on the packs, pants and shirts that all of them were carrying, but none of them were wearing. His pack was a good pack that he’d bought several years ago. He knew from looking at packs, the ones the feds were carrying were almost a grand.

Pulling his pack over, he grabbed one of the FBI packs and started unloading it. When he repacked it with his stuff, he put it on and didn’t regret his decision. This pack distributed the weight much better and he didn’t feel like he was carrying forty pounds anymore.

Taking it off, he put what he’d wanted to take from the group in, mainly the electronics, but only one set of the weird night vision goggles and thermal scope. He left the others in their packs, he had plans for those.

After he was done, he looked over the weapons. The feds’ weapons all looked brand new and they had magazines like the troopers had. But the troopers’ ARs looked well used. Inspecting the feds’ weapons, he looked at the suppressor attached and saw it had a ratchet system to hold it on. “H&K” was stamped on the side and he wasn’t surprised to see the full auto setting.

Taking it apart, he confirmed the weapon hadn’t been fired much and soon found out, it was one of the newer AR type rifles with the gas impingement system. When you shot the gun, gas didn’t travel back to the bolt, it was diverted to a piston that moved the bolt. It kept the bolt cooler and cleaner.

“I’ll see what you can do,” he said laying it to the side.

Looking at the stacks of A-Tac camouflage clothes he’d pulled out of the packs, he wondered why none of the group were wearing it. All of them had been wearing tan tactical pants, short sleeve shirts and such. With the exception of high-top, everyone else had three complete sets in their packs.

Having already looked, he took the three sets from the FBI guy’s pack that he’d gotten the boots from. He took the helmet from the other FBI pack because it fit much better. All his life, Joshua had worn hard hats, but a hard hat wasn’t a helmet. Reading ‘Fast Assault Helmet Level III ballistic protection’ on the inside and putting it on, he realized it wasn’t a normal soldier’s helmet.

It fit snug and he could tell from the attach points on the side and front, he could mount gear there. Leaving it on, he repacked the backpacks and used his in the place of the one he’d taken. All the packs had a folded-up long gun scabbard that he took out and placed four of the ARs in and attached them to the packs.

Using the waterproof bags that the guys’ sleeping bags had been stored in, Joshua loaded up what he was taking to the cabin. He looked at the six-packs of coke and tossed them in as well. If they were going to deliver soda water to him, by God, he would drink it.

Gathering the ‘shit’ electric toothbrushes and such, Joshua carried them out and found a hole, tossing them in and covered them up. Loading the packs back up, he realized how much lighter they were, and he had put the other three vests, ARs, pistols, and that weird chest harness high-top had worn in them, and they were still lighter.

Heading eight miles north to his dugout, Joshua would pause every mile or so and find a place to bury one of the packs. If the guys were so kind to bring him gear, he could now make some caches, in case he lost his gear. Keeping the spots near ravines, in almost identical locations so he wouldn’t have to mark it on his map, Joshua buried them. Since the packs were waterproof, he felt they would last for a little while.

Reaching the dugout just before sunset, he only had to take the pack saddle with the bags of stuff he’d taken from the guys off the mule. Compared to what the mule had been packing, it wasn’t anything. Putting up the rope corral, Joshua fed King and the mule. The corral let them drink from the small stream that ran down the gully beside the dugout.

Putting the six-packs of cokes in the stream, Joshua carried the gear inside and got to work, understanding what he took. Making room for it in the packed dugout was his first chore then, he just tossed it on the floor.

Grabbing the satchel that high-top had been carrying, Joshua sat it on the table and turned on the LED lamp. Pulling out the map, he realized it wasn’t printed on paper, but felt like a type of cloth. Unfolding it, his eyes widened upon seeing it was a topographical map overlaid on a satellite photograph.  The map covered the Kaniksu National Forest which was the panhandle of Idaho, some of western Montana and Eastern Washington. It was 1:126,720 scale map that was standard for the forestry service where one inch was half a mile.

Laying it out, he loved how it felt as he ran his hands over it, but then noticed there were marks on the map with numbers from one to eighty-four and two square mile grids checked off, then other marks across roads and around Priest Lake. Touching the marks, they didn’t wipe off, but Joshua could tell they weren’t printed on. Looking back in the satchel, he found several pins and two markers with caps on both ends.

Pulling one cap off, it looked like a black felt tip pen and he pulled the other off, and it looked like a clear felt tip pen. He tried to write on the map with the clear end, but it didn’t leave a mark. Then, he moved over to one of the marks on the map by Priest Lake and it came off, like the clear end was an eraser. “The things they come up with,” he said putting the caps back on.

Looking at where he’d seen the guys were dropped off and the number eighty-one beside it, he saw boxes checked, leading to North Priest Lake. He pulled out the notepad and notebook and saw the pad had map notes and started reading. When he was done, he looked back at the map in understanding.

The numbered marks were five-man search teams, and the two square mile grids that were marked beside each team was where they had to search. Looking back at where the team he’d hit was dropped off, he chuckled. “You guys were lost the second you stepped out of that truck. You were supposed to head up the draw to the east and over the ridge to the lake, but you headed west following the valley.” Where he’d shot them was six miles from where they were supposed to be.

Studying the numbers on the map, he couldn’t see any pattern or rhyme and reason for them. They started south of Quartz Mountain and then stayed west of Highway 57, seemingly placed at random all the way to where he’d seen high-top’s team dropped off. “I could lie down and they would never find me,” he said, laying the notepad down and wondering if he should change his plans about fighting back.

“No, they could get lucky, but they messed with my family and they killed poor Ms. Ethel,” he said seeing where the next closest team was. Seeing it was south of Blacktail Mountain and they were to move toward Bottle Bay on Priest Lake, Joshua figured they were probably lost and moving toward Washington State.

Opening the notebook up, he saw notes about him, his family, his friends, and the area. He didn’t like that they knew this much about him, his family, and his friends. Reading on, he found that a hundred more search teams would be in place by tomorrow, and the teams were to stay out three days, then rotate back. The goal was to keep sixty teams out at all times. Reading further, he looked back at the map, picking up the special marker and made tics by teams that he’d read were to be on horseback.

“Need to watch for those,” he said, but the closest was below Lamb Creek. In the notes, it said he would stay in the wilderness close to his family or to the south where he had friends. “They got that wrong, and I need to let them know before they mess with them.”

Flipping through the notes, Joshua had to admit high-top took good notes. Joshua found what agencies were helping, the number of men, special response teams (SWAT), radio frequencies, contact schedules, and a whole slew of other useful information. When he saw ‘Radio Function Code’, followed by numbers, he wanted to sigh, since the radio turned on, but without the ten-digit code, the radio wouldn’t function. Closing the notebook, he folded up the map and liked the idea that he could literally stuff it in his pocket and it would be fine.

Walking over to a storage bin from the cabin, he pulled out two wool blankets. “Time to get to work and show them how wrong they were for picking me to rob,” he said spreading them out on the table.

Chapter Fourteen

It was 0600 the next morning when Griffey watched the group leaders leave the conference room, leaving only him, Burrows, and Moore there.

“I told you,” Moore said sipping a cup of coffee. “We have three teams that haven’t reported in.”

Griffey jumped up and pointed at one of the maps that had three white marks where the missing teams had been dropped off. One was at North Priest Lake, another was in the middle of the search area south of Nordman, and the third was at the bottom of the search area near Newport Hill. “You’re not suggesting Joshua took them out, are you?!” he bellowed.

“Don’t yell at me, Griffey,” Moore said in a cold voice. “I’m not one of your lackeys, and I know way more people than you do.”

Taking a deep breath, Griffey nodded. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “But, is that what you’re suggesting?”

Moore set his cup down, chuckling. “No, that doesn’t fit his profile. If he’s backed into a corner, Mr. Anderson will fight but what I told you was that we would lose teams. They are getting lost. We don’t have the communications in the area to keep track of them.”

“Okay, what do you suggest?”

“It’s too late for that,” Moore said. “We needed local law enforcement. They know the area, hell, they hunt and fish the area they patrol. You could throw them out in the woods from a chopper and they could find their way back.”

Turning around, Griffey looked at the map hard and was realizing for the first time, just how remote it was. “I’ll call DC. Sheriff Harper has publicly declared that he’s hostile to this investigation. Legal told me, that can be interpreted as a treasonous act,” he said turning around. “Maybe we could use that to force him.”

With a sigh, Moore shook his head. “Griffey, you do realize that Sheriff Harper’s sister-in-law is a senior partner at one of the largest law firms out here, right? You go after him now, and you’ll lose many friends in Washington. Her firm has beaten us in court every time they’ve taken us on, and she’s already filed motions against us for Sheriff Harper.”

“We are the law!” Griffey shouted. “They can’t do that.”

“Beg to differ,” Moore said.

Throwing his hands up, “Okay, so what else would you suggest?” he asked as his anger built.

“Make your teams larger, for one. It’s fewer teams, but they can search an area more thoroughly and we don’t have to keep track of so many. It’s a proven fact; it’s harder for a larger group of people to get lost.”

Thinking about that, Griffey nodded. “I like that. We’ll increase the size to eight or ten depending on the area,” he said, but was looking at Moore for approval.

“I would try it and if we still have teams getting lost, I would make it twenty.”

Sitting back down, Griffey grabbed a pen and started writing. “We’ll increase before we put the next group out tomorrow. Anything else?”

“First, I would give them classes, thorough classes, on how to use those radios and satellite phones you’re sending them out with.”

Looking up from his writing, “We did,” he said.

“No, your people held them up and told them how to turn it on,” Moore said solemnly.

Almost groaning, Griffey started writing, “And?”

“Get someone in here who knows how to pack a backpack, and give them a small class on how to move, what to wear, how to wear it, and basic survival in the mountains. I’ve seen what some of them have packed and they are carrying way too much unnecessary stuff.”

“I’m not training them to go to Afghanistan,” Griffey said looking up.

“I know. You’re teaching them how to search a wilderness,” Moore said. “You do realize that you’re issuing equipment like thermal sights, M4s and other stuff, that many have never seen. One of the guys you sent out yesterday is a Homeland Agent from Florida. He’s never been in the woods in Florida, and you sent him into the mountains of Idaho with gear he’s never seen. He wasn’t even certified on the M4. In the academy, he was certified on the P90.”

Throwing his pen down, Griffey put his hands over his face groaning. “Just how long do you think these classes should be?”

Moore leaned over the table. “Get on the phone, call the Army, and get them to send some sergeants from the Tenth Mountain division here to train our people how to pack and what to wear. It’s a crash course, not a school. Give them a day on that, then half a day on the radio and phones. Then for God’s sakes, make sure the weapons you give these people, they know how to use.”

“Burrows, do it,” Griffey snapped and Burrows snatched up a phone. Griffey looked back at Moore. “I can get a hundred horses up here from Nevada, you think I should?”

Leaning back in his chair, Moore shrugged. “It’s not as simple as jumping in a saddle Griffey. Unless you know how, it takes time to learn and if you don’t, you could get hurt. Now, we have people here that do know how to ride, like the BLM guys that showed up last night. Most of them, you could throw on a horse with no training. But don’t forget, you bring those horses here, you have to feed and care for them or the environmentalists will have your ass.”

“Fuck the horses,” Griffey said and continued writing. “Have you got the information you wanted?”

“It’s coming, but it’s coming in vans full of boxes and printouts that fill boxes. It’s going to take my team a day just to arrange it, so we can start on it.”

“Get more people for your team,” Griffey said writing.

“I already have. I have ten of the best profilers in the Bureau. Agent Winters will be here soon, she’s beyond good at what she does. I’ll even go so far to say, she’s better than me.”

Looking up at Moore, “Get more, Washington wants this done now. We can somewhat control the mainstream media, but the alternate media on the web is starting to cause problems. The FCC can’t shut down the radio stations here according to some Cold War regulation. I’ve been told that we are to finish this at all cost. We can’t walk away empty-handed,” Griffey said.

Getting up, Moore walked over to the coffee pot. “Griffey, this is a shit storm and you can’t stop a shit storm. You ride it and do your best to get it under control,” he said filling a cup.

“No, you don’t understand, Washington wants this done and they don’t care how.”

Putting the pot back, Moore walked back to the table. “Yes, I do understand, but the second Joshua headed for the hills, this situation lost all control. We are on his timetable and I’m afraid to say, his timetable is going to be a long one. He can stay in those mountains for years and we’ll never find him. Hell, he could stay in a five-square-mile area and even if we searched it, we wouldn’t find him. This is Joshua’s home ground and he knows his ground. We don’t.”

Pushing the notepad away, Griffey looked off. “Have you chased one like him before?”

“Similar,” Moore said. “Joshua isn’t a survivalist Griffey. It’s not something he saw on the internet and thought, ‘oh that’s cool’. He lives and works in the wilderness and is comfortable doing it. The big things about Joshua are that he’s adaptable and well liked. If you look at his business records, you can see how he changed rapidly to stay in business and be profitable. He’s well thought of in the community and you could say, loved by his friends.”

“So, do you think you can steer me close enough to catch him?”

Thinking for a few minutes, Moore finally nodded. “Yes, but it’s going to take time and that’s one thing we don’t have, but not because of Washington. I want to get this done before most of the people around here start to actively help him because when they do, we will never catch him.”

“Get some more members for your team,” Griffey said getting up. “I’m not worried about the populace with pitchforks. I think I have an idea on how to move this along.”

“Oh, they won’t have pitchforks my good fellow,” Moore said getting up. “Like I was told by a member of this county, I’d be hard-pressed to find a house with only one gun.”

***

Late that afternoon, Joshua was sitting on a hilltop in Nordman, looking at the small hotel with his spotting scope. It had taken him almost ten hours to travel the thirty miles from his dugout to the north. He’d heard a few helicopters off in the distance, but hadn’t seen or heard any ground teams. He knew where they were supposed to be, but after listening to the radio he’d taken from high-top, his assumption was correct. When they left the road, they didn’t know where to go. Even with GPS and maps, many were miles from where they were supposed to be.

At this time of year, the RV park, campground and hotel would start to see some business but since the feds took it over, it was full, but not with guests. The RV court had RVs parked there, but it didn’t take long for Joshua to figure out that the people in the RVs were feds.

The first thing he’d noticed was everyone of the RVs were brand new and he could see that some still had papers taped to the windows, and three that he could see the back of still had temporary tags. Only a few of them seemed occupied now as he sat and watched.

It struck him as funny, the feds were looking for him and he was right there watching them. Packing his scope up, he moved back to King and the mule, making sure they were tied up well. They knew they were close to home and he didn’t want them to head that way.

Adjusting his new gear, Joshua headed down the hill toward the hotel. Taking his time, it was dark when he got there and he stopped just outside of the RV park, staying back in the trees. He didn’t need his night vision with all the lights at the park, so he got comfortable.

He had traded out his AR for the M4, liking the way it handled, but not that the barrel was shorter. A shorter barrel meant less power and range and for a 5.56, that had to be taken into account. It was a small bullet that did its damage by hauling ass and when you started taking that away, longer barrel equaled more velocity and shot placement became critical.

The suppressor on the M4 was better than the one he’d made, so after practicing with it, he traded up. When a van pulled into the RV circle, dropping people off, Joshua looked at his watch and saw that it was 2118. Looking at the people carrying briefcases and laptops and wearing nice clothes, he knew this wasn’t where those that came after him in the mountains slept, but that was okay.

Watching the people walk to different RVs, he pulled out his 1911 and screwed his suppressor on. Press checking it, he saw brass in the barrel and let the slide move forward. When all the people were inside, he started debating on which one as he eased to his knees and another van pulled up, dropping more people off. Seeing some head to RVs he had just seen people go in, he eased back down, rethinking his plan.

When a third van pulled up, Joshua almost left but this van stayed at the hotel, dropping a load off. Glancing at his watch and seeing that it was almost ten, Joshua looked back at the RVs and saw many now had lights on.

“This may take a while,” he mumbled and got comfortable. After an hour, most of the inside lights for the RVs were off and Joshua made his choice of an RV that he’d seen one man go in, hoping there wasn’t more. Before he moved, a Ford Taurus with a dealer sticker still on the window pulled into the RV Park and drove up to one of the nicer ones, parked in the center of the circle of RVs.

A man got out and went to the trunk, pulling out a box and carried it inside the RV. He looked to be in his late thirties and was slightly overweight. “You have a car while everyone else carpools,” Joshua mumbled as the man came back out to grab a briefcase and headed back inside. “New target,” he mumbled getting to his knees. “You are more important.”

Just before Joshua moved out of the trees, the man came back out, not wearing his suit jacket and shut the door of the RV. “Get your ass inside, I have things to do,” Joshua chastised quietly as the man headed toward the hotel. “Okay, I’ll let you have that one.”

When the man rounded the corner of the hotel, Joshua looked at the other RVs and saw all were dark. Getting up and holding the 1911 against his body, Joshua walked between two RVs on the outer circle, heading for the one the man had just walked out of.

Reaching the RV, Joshua walked inside and was impressed with the opulence of the RV as he turned off the lights. He saw the box on the table and leaned down to look out the window, but didn’t see the man coming back. Moving over to the lights, he popped the covers off and pulled the bulbs loose but didn’t take them out.

Since he had gloves on, he didn’t care as he opened the box and used the light coming in the window to see it was filled with stacks of papers. He pulled a spiral bound book out and opened it. His eyes got big on seeing Ben’s name at the top of each page and banking transactions down the page. Putting the book down he pulled another out and glanced out the window, making sure the man wasn’t coming.

Not seeing anyone, he looked down at the paper and saw it was financial records for Barbara. Grabbing another stack, he found it was Ben’s high school records. “What the fuck?” he whispered and put the stuff back for now. “Yeah, now I’m pissed.”

He moved to the back of the RV and saw the bathroom and bedroom. Giving a satisfied nod, he moved back to the window and waited. It was almost an hour later when the man rounded the corner of the hotel, walking back to the RV. Judging by his walk, the man had needed an after work drink.

Moving to the back of the RV, Joshua hid behind the wall of the bedroom and waited. It wasn’t long and the door opened and shut. He heard the man hit the light switch, “I don’t care how much it costs, this is a piece of shit,” he slurred as Joshua rounded the corner, seeing the man reach for the TV. “I told Moore, I’m not trailer trash.”

“Hello,” Joshua said raising his pistol as the suppressor touched the back of the man’s head. “I’ve heard you had a problem,” he said and pulled the trigger.

The man’s head jerked back as the forty-five caliber bullet blew out his face, slamming into the TV. Stepping back as the body fell, Joshua kept the gun on him till he quit jerking. Setting the gun down, he pulled the bags with the severed hands out.

Carefully shaking the salt off, Joshua moved over to the sink and turned on the water, cleaning the thumb and index fingers of each hand off. He moved over to the box and pulled out several folders and touched them with the thumb and finger like someone would when they read them.

Doing that to several more bound stacks in the box, Joshua put those hands up and pulled out the other bag. Washing them like he did the others, he moved to the briefcase and used the dead hands to open it and rifle through it. Then, he used the hands to open some drawers and even mess with the laptop on the table. Satisfied, Joshua put the hands away and picked up his gun.

Getting on his knees, he found his brass and reached over to feel the man’s neck, not finding a pulse. Standing up, he looked around and didn’t see anyone. Walking out the door, he quietly closed it and headed for the woods.

Reaching his horse, Joshua climbed up and guided King north with the mule just following along, wondering where they were going next.

Chapter Fifteen

Ben was sitting at Sonya’s kitchen table sipping a cup of coffee. Hearing a soft knock on the side door, he put his coffee down and pulled his pistol out of his holster, “Yeah?” he said holding the barrel low.

“It’s Gene,” came the reply.

Reaching over, Ben opened the door and Gene walked in with an AR over his shoulder. Looking outside, Ben noticed it wasn’t even light yet. “You starting your watch early?” he asked holstering his pistol.

“We don’t want the feds to be able to pattern our watches,” Gene said looking at Ben’s holster. “You need a real gun on your hip.”

Reaching down, Ben patted the butt of his gun. “Springfield XD baby, thirteen rounds of forty-five love.”

Putting a hand inside his jacket, Gene pulled out a massive nickel plated revolver. “Smith and Wesson fifty cal, son. When you care enough to send the very best,” Gene said with a smile.

“Yeah, if you’re shooting tanks,” Ben said sitting back down. “How are the boys doing outside?” After he and Gene had snuck away to send the message, they’d gathered some friends since most of the crew had left and decided to start standing guard by staying at Sonya’s house. Neither was surprised to already find Chris there. It wasn’t long until other people in the area came over to help. Now, at any time, there were twenty armed men and a sheriff’s deputy outside. Then to top it off, a construction contractor that lived nearby drove his D8 bulldozer over and parked it across the road, so you couldn’t even drive up to Sonya’s until someone moved it.

“Doing good, Chris and some others did a sweep behind the house to make sure the feds weren’t trying to sneak up through the woods.

Shaking his head, Ben laughed. “Gene, Chris is out there in full Rambo mode. If he sees them, the world will know.”

“I talked to him and told him to keep it in his pants. We don’t want a war, we just want them to leave Joshua’s family alone.”

“If they come here, they will get a war,” Ben said in an ominous voice.

Gene took his AR off and laid it on the table next to Ben’s AR. “Just make sure they shoot first.”

“Gene, I love ya and have always listened to ya, but hell no,” Ben said sassily. “He who shoots first wins. Proof in point, Joshua is alive.”

Gene pulled out a chair and sat down, looking at Ben with a serious face as he clasped his hands together leaning over the table. “Ben, they have over a thousand guns that they can call in not even ten miles from here. We won’t even be a speed bump. We are here to deter. To let them know, it would be too much trouble for them to try taking us.”

Ben sipped his coffee staring at Gene. “I’m not stupid, but I’m not going to let them hurt Josh’s family. If they do, they do it stepping over my corpse.”

“Understandable,” Gene said, glad he’d decided to bring his camper up and set it up outside to keep Ben on a leash. He had watched Josh and Ben grow up from little boys and loved both dearly. But Ben had no fear of anything on this Earth and would prove it in a second. “Why don’t you go crawl in the bed with your wife,” he said smiling and getting up heading to the coffee pot.

“Gene, don’t,” Ben said with a terrified expression. “I can’t believe Sonya called Barbara and told her and Sammy to stay here until this was over.”

“You want them out at your place alone?”

“No, but it just seems… I don’t know,” Ben said looking into his coffee for the answer but it didn’t come.

“Ben, I’m the first to admit, I never would’ve pegged you to settle down,” Gene said pouring a cup. “But seeing you with Barbara and that kid, I finally have hope for you.”

“Don’t old man,” Ben said.

Gene laughed as he moved back to the table. He didn’t fear Ben. “I’m just stating what I’ve seen Ben,” Gene grinned.

They sat together, sipping coffee as they heard an alarm clock go off in the house and Gene stood up. “I’ll tell the boys outside to get in the vehicles,” he said grabbing his AR.

“Will you ask Sonya if I can drive them?” Ben asked getting up stretching out.

Grabbing the door and opening it, “Nope, you will soon learn, when a woman makes up her mind, God himself can’t change it. And woe to anyone else that tries,” he said over his shoulder and walked out.

Ben stared at the closed door shaking his head. “Gene, you need to find a new woman. Your last wife didn’t die; she’s in hiding from your bullshit.”

They caravanned William to and from school every day to Priest River. Since there was a sheriff substation in Priest River, they didn’t have to stay outside the school and Buck had put a deputy outside the school full time now. Now that Ben and Barbara were staying there and Sammy went to the same school, Sammy rode with them.

With Sammy there, William had someone to talk to and play with and that was good enough for Ben to stay there with Barbara. It was a big house but crowded now, since Mrs. Anderson was still staying there also.

Grabbing his AR off the table, Ben set it against the wall and went to William’s room to find him and Sammy up and getting ready. “Alright boys, when you get home, you have to show me how to get my wizard to level thirty,” he said walking in the room.

“Okay,” William said smiling.

“Cool,” Sammy said putting on a shirt. “I told you that computer games were fun.”

“Yeah, but my fingers can’t make my guy on the screen do what I want him to fast enough,” Ben said.

“Takes practice,” William said grabbing his shoes.

Hearing pans rattling in the kitchen, Ben left and walked into the kitchen to see Sonya, Barbara and Mrs. Anderson making breakfast. “I was going to make them something,” Ben said pointing at the boxes of cereal he had out.

Mrs. Anderson walked over and patted his chest, “Ben, they are growing boys, they need something more than that,” she told him and started putting plates on the table. Before the boys had made it to the table, bacon, eggs and biscuits were waiting.

Barbara stepped over kissing his cheek. “Now, isn’t that much better?”

“Well, yeah, but with a full stomach and a boring class, that just spells ‘I need a nap’,” Ben said stroking his goatee. The boys laughed as Barbara slapped his butt, hard. “Ow,” he said rubbing his butt.

“Don’t be telling them how you acted in school,” Barbara said walking away.

Setting down a pitcher of orange juice, Sonya turned to Barbara, “Ben actually did good in school,” she said and Ben lifted his head up. “Till you account for all the trouble he got into.”

Ben dropped his head and walked out to the living room. “I didn’t get in that much trouble,” he mumbled.

“Ben, don’t be tellin’ stories,” Mrs. Anderson called after him as she moved to the stove, helping them make breakfast for all the men and women outside. Yes, in Idaho, the women went armed also and had no problem standing up to protect a family.

“Was he bad?” Sammy asked shoving food in his mouth.

“No, Ben usually waited till school was over to get in trouble,” Mrs. Anderson said.

Hearing a knock at the door, Sonya walked over while pulling out her pistol, a compact XD. “Yes?” she said.

“It’s Gene.”

She opened the door and he stepped in seeing her holster her pistol. “Now, was that so hard?” he asked stepping over to the table beside the boys. “If you have it out you can use it. Just putting your hand on the gun to answer the door will take time to pull it out if you have trouble.”

“Gene, I’m not Ben so don’t lecture. And I’m not Joshua, so don’t float it as wisdom,” she said walking to the stove. “This is my house and those as….” She stopped looking over her shoulder at the boys. “If they try to gain entry, I promise you, the gun will be out and firing.”

“I’m just saying, it’s easier to have it out,” he said reaching down and taking a slice of bacon. “Are you making food for the group again?”

“Yes,” Sonya said putting more biscuits in the oven. “They are helping me protect my family, so the least I can do is feed them.”

Gene nodded as Ben walked back in with his tail between his legs. “See? You learned a lesson this morning,” he said with a grin. Not saying anything, Ben just nodded. “See, any other time you would be arguing back, but you’re learning.”

“Gene, don’t be mean to Ben,” Barbara said walking over and kissing Ben on the cheek again and Ben perked up.

“I’m not,” Gene said as the boys finished.

“Ready,” they said jumping up.

“Sonya, stay in the middle. I don’t care if the ones in front of you are going slow,” Gene said heading for the door.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Sonya said. “You need to tell them to move their asses then.”

“Nana,” Sonya said turning to Mrs. Anderson, “The biscuits will be done when the timer goes off. Will you make sure they eat everything and not try to be polite today?”

“You bet,” she said patting Sonya on the cheek. “You hurry back.” Sonya had months of vacation time saved up and when her boss had found out what was going on, he’d told her he had no problem letting her stay home.

They walked out to see four pickup trucks and two older SUVs loaded with armed men, on the road waiting. Sonya climbed into her minivan with the boys jumping in the back. Barbara walked around and got in the passenger side. Backing out, two trucks and one of the SUVs moved in front of her and the others got behind her.

Driving out to the highway, she saw the huge bulldozer moving off their side street and two motorcycles pulled into the lead. The men riding them had rifles on their backs. Turning onto the highway, they headed south to Priest River.

Just a few miles down the road, they came up on the roadblock. The National Guard troops knew who they were because Gene had gone and talked to them when they sat up days ago. Before, when they saw the convoy, they just moved the barriers. Today, they were standing in the road.

As the convoy stopped, men and women piled out of the vehicles, spreading out and aiming at the troops. “Wait, hold on!” one shouted holding up his hands. “We just have to check the vehicles.”

Gene stepped out from behind the door of his Bronco that was behind the two motorcycles and lowered his rifle. “Never have before.”

“Something happened in Nordman sir,” the man said, still holding his hands up.

Looking over his shoulder, “Move the two trucks through, set up on the other side and cover us while we roll through,” he said and those riding in the trucks jumped back in. As they pulled to the roadblock, the troops didn’t even approach the trucks, since each truck had ten weapons pointed out. Gene got in his Bronco as did those who were riding with him.

When the two trucks had pulled through and the men got back out, Gene pulled up to the roadblock and saw it was a captain that had yelled out. Gene rolled down his window. “Captain, if your men make any move towards those kids, I’ll be burying your body today,” he said and rolled up his window and drove through.

The troops turned to see the minivan and other vehicles slowly pulling forward and stared in shock as Barbara and Sonya had their pistols out aiming at them through the glass. In the back, the boys had their faces pressed against the windows sticking their tongues out.

When the vehicles passed, a sergeant walked over to the captain. “Sir, I’m going back to Boise,” he said and walked off the road to where they had tents set up to sleep in.

“Sergeant, that’s desertion,” the captain yelled out.

The sergeant spun around, yelling at the top of his voice. “They were protecting those kids from us, sir! Those American citizens, residents of the state of Idaho were protecting kids from us! You tell me how in the fuck that’s in the nation’s interest, sir!”

The captain just stared at the wild-eyed sergeant. “It’s our duty,” he finally said.

“Then you do it. I’m going to protect my own kids,” the sergeant snapped spinning around. “Any that want to come with me, I’m out of here in ten minutes.”

In shock, the captain watched all but three men run for the tents. In ten minutes, they were the only ones left. The first sergeant turned to the captain. “Sir, what are your orders?”

“Get me the colonel,” he said looking around.

“You going to ask for more men?”

“No, I’m telling him to find some more, we’re heading home. That sergeant was right. They were protecting those kids from us.”

“Yes, sir,” the first sergeant said grabbing the radio. “Can’t do anything here anyway, nobody gave us any ammo.”

“First sergeant, those people knew that and I think that’s the only reason you and I are alive.”

***

At 1045, the deputy stationed at the school was sitting in his patrol car and looked up as a black sedan pulled to the front of the school. As he reached for the door handle, the door flew open and he felt a gun next to his head. “FBI, don’t move while I confirm your identity,” the voice said as a badge was stuck in front of the deputy’s face.

When the badge moved away, another man opened the passenger door and reached over, handcuffing the deputy to the steering wheel. Before he got out the man grabbed the car keys. “Don’t move, identity is being confirmed,” he said getting out.

A man in a suit had stepped out of the sedan while the deputy was being handcuffed and walked into the school, looking at his watch. He followed the signs to the office and pulled out his badge. “I’m Agent Evans with Homeland Security here to serve a warrant,” he said putting an envelope on the counter.

The principle stepped out of his office and looked at one of the secretaries. “Call the sheriff,” she said walking over to the counter. “What’s the warrant for?”

Two helicopters roared overhead, setting down in front of the school and armed men poured out of them, running into the school. Knowing where to go, they moved down the halls. The secretary looked up, “The phones aren’t working.”

Agent Evans nodded, “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said putting his badge away as the SWAT team busted into the classroom that William was in. They knew who he was instantly from photos and videos they had watched. Two ran over and grabbed him while William fought back, but a thirteen-year-old boy against men in full tactical gear couldn’t do much.

The visions in William’s mind of him using his martial arts and beating them up quickly flew away as he flailed away at the two carrying him. Stopping in the hall, the two put flex cuffs on William, more to protect William from hurting himself, as he beat against their armored bodies.

In three minutes, the choppers were airborne flying north, and the sedan and SUV left the school heading west out of the state. The only mistake in the operation for the government, was that the helicopter hadn’t gone west.

Chapter Sixteen

Buck was hanging onto the dash when he hung up his phone as Cory drove up highway 57 heading for Nordman. Behind him was a very long line of sheriff cars and civilian cars loaded with extra men and women. The rifle barrels poking out the windows left little doubt if they were armed.

“You get Ben?” Cory asked slowing to eighty to take a curve.

“They’re moving the dozer now,” Buck said vibrating in rage. It had taken twenty minutes for him to even find out, when the school’s phones had turned back on and one of the custodians had unhand-cuffed his deputy. Then, it’d taken another thirty to call out for his deputies on their cellphones because the radios wouldn’t transmit.

An hour and a half after William had been taken from the school, Buck had jumped in with Cory and they’d headed north as the radios started working again. The normal fifty-minute drive from Sandpoint to Lamb Creek took only fifteen.

Blowing past the roadblock, Buck looked at the empty tents and saw that all the National Guard vehicles were gone. “Glad we didn’t have to deal with them,” he said and pulled out his pistol, flipping the cylinder open. Seeing the six bullets, he flipped his wrist to close it.

Then, as they blew past the side road that lead to Sonya’s, they saw a line of cars waiting to pull out. Clearing Lamb Creek, Cory hit triple digits heading the ten miles to Nordman. “Cory, if they shoot me, open fire,” Buck said when they reached Nordman and saw a roadblock manned by feds.

Two wooden sawhorses blocked the road. “Blow through,” Buck growled and Cory didn’t slow the SUV.  Seeing the turn for Reeder Bay Rd, Cory tapped the brakes as he guided the SUV onto the turnoff heading to the resorts.

Keeping his speed at fifty, Cory took his foot off of the gas, seeing the road blocked with cars ahead. “Sheriff, I don’t think I can plow through that many cars,” Cory said as he slowed down.

“Just pull up to them and stop. Here’s as good a place as any to have a shootout,” Buck said grabbing the door handle. When Cory stopped a few yards from the cars blocking the road, Buck jumped out. Turning around, he saw cars stopping behind them and people poured out, running towards him and carrying guns. “Spread out!” Buck yelled. “If I go down, open fire! Kill them all and get the boy!”

The men and women running towards him stopped and spread out across the road and into the forest. Buck turned around to see Agent Griffey at the roadblock. “Sheriff, I must remind you, that this is interfering with a federal investigation,” he said wearing his customary fake smile.

“Give me William Anderson now or we start a war,” he said cocking the hammer back on his pistol but keeping in pointed down.

“Sheriff, surely even you realize that you are outgunned,” Griffey said.

“Wrong, you’re surrounded. Hear that whine out on the lake? That’s over a hundred boats heading here. We are leaving here with William Anderson and will kill every one of you to do it,” Buck said and Griffey could hear the whine of the boat engines.

Griffey held up an envelope. “This gives me the right to secure William Anderson, in respect that the state CPS failed to provide adequate safety for him.”

“Are you ready to die today Griffey, because I am,” Buck said and heard a car driving up behind him, but he knew both lanes were packed. He turned to see a new caddy driving toward him rather fast in the ditch bouncing up and down over the uneven ground and people were jumping out of the way. The caddy skidded to a stop in the ditch, ten yards behind Buck.

“Griffey, you don’t have long,” Buck said as Sonya jumped out of the passenger side, holding a pump shotgun and Mrs. Anderson got out of the driver’s side, reaching back and dragging out a long double barrel shotgun. Buck spun around, “Give me the boy now,” Buck sneered.

“I’ll kill every cocksucker here!” Mrs. Anderson screeched out and feebly walked out of the ditch. Glancing over his shoulder, Buck saw her raising the shotgun to her shoulder, looking down the two massive barrels. Buck knew that if she pulled the triggers, that ten gauge would throw her down.

“Give me my baby!” Sonya shouted running toward Griffey and brought her pump shotgun to her shoulder, aiming at Griffey’s face while several dozen men behind Griffey aimed their weapons at her.

“He’s not your child,” Griffey said calmly, but Buck could see he was sweating in the cool air.

“Hold on,” Moore shouted moving up beside Griffey. “It was a lawful warrant.”

Buck turned his head over his shoulder. “Prepare to fire and advance to get William Anderson. You will kill everyone that has a federal badge. No quarter will be given. No wounded will be taken. You will kill all of them!”

“Yes sir!” a bunch shouted.

“Hell yeah, we’re with ya’ sheriff!” many others shouted.

“Give me my grandson or I’ll kill you now!” Mrs. Anderson screeched, cocking both hammers back.

Throwing his hands up, Moore screamed. “Hold your fire!” he turned to the men around him. “Lower your weapons now or face a board of inquiry.”

When his men lowered their weapons, Moore lifted a radio to his mouth. “Bring William Anderson to the primary roadblock.”

“We lost another officer and this is how you respond?” Griffey said looking at Buck.

“You were about to lose a lot more,” Buck said and turned to Cory. “Tell Duane that they are bringing him out and hold off the attack from the lake.”

“Yes sir,” Cory said grabbing his radio.

Turning back around, Buck saw a car drive up to the roadblock and William jumped out. Before anyone could stop him, William took off running toward them. Letting out a cry, Sonya dropped her shotgun and William ran at her as she opened her arms.

Buck looked at William’s face and saw his right cheek was swollen and his eye was black with dried blood under his nose. “Fuckin’ Gman!” Mrs. Anderson shouted seeing William’s face and brought her shotgun up to her shoulder again.

It seemed like nobody doubted she would fire, since Moore, Griffey and all those around them dove for cover. Buck spun toward her and stood at the end of the barrel. “Mrs. Anderson, don’t,” he said calmly.

“They beat my grandbaby, I’m killin’ all the bastards!”

“Mrs. Anderson, William is away and if any shooting starts, he stands a good chance of getting hit.”

Gritting her teeth, she lowered the shotgun. “I’m goin’ to get more bullets,” she said to Buck. “Sonya, William, get in the car.”

“Mount up and wait till they reach their house then head back home, but stay by your phones!” Buck shouted and people started moving to their cars.

“The boy did that to himself, hitting our officers,” Griffey said getting up.

Buck spun around, “You fuckin’ touch one more person in this town and the next time, we aren’t talking. That is a thirteen-year-old boy you kidnapped to get at his dad. Well, I’m here to tell ya’, your plan will work. You’ll be hearing from Joshua soon.”

“Sheriff,” Moore said getting up. “What would you have done if the boy hadn’t been here?”

“You would all be dead,” Buck said turning around and Moore shivered, knowing that Buck wasn’t bluffing. “Just a word of advice; your other five choppers at the airport? I heard they were sabotaged, so don’t fly them. Don’t worry, I’m opening an investigation.”

“Hold on sheriff,” a man shouted, running up from behind the feds with a group of people. “We want to go with you.”

Buck recognized him as the manager of the Elk lodge and the employees. “What about your cars?”

“They won’t let us drive them here, we have to be picked up in Nordman,” the man said.

“Hop in a ride,” he said pointing down the road at the line of cars waiting to turn around.

“You can’t leave,” Griffey said as the man stopped but the others kept on going.

“I’ve talked to my attorney sir, and he’s informed me that the government has agreed to purchase this establishment. So you sir, can kiss my ass. We are out of here,” the man said and left.

When all the cars had turned around, Cory followed them out. “Stop by Sonya’s,” Buck said holstering his pistol. He held out his hand to see it shaking. Squeezing his fist tight and dropping it to his lap, Buck looked up feeling old and tired.

“I don’t think they will try nothing like that again sir,” Cory said.

“Yes, they will,” Buck said. “They just never believed that I would run up there with an armed insurrection.”

As Cory slowed at Sonya’s road the dozer pulled out of the way and there were armed men and women everywhere. Coming to a stop at the house, they saw Mrs. Anderson walking back to her caddy carrying a box of shotgun shells. “Only had those two. Now I’m ready,” she said tossing them in the car.

“We have him Mrs. Anderson,” Buck said wearily. “Don’t go, they will need you here,” Buck said and grabbed her arm gently. She looked up at his tired face and the anger inside her subsided.

“Okay Buck,” she said reaching up and patting his face as Sonya and William came running out.

“I’m sorry William. They took my deputy by surprise,” Buck said getting down on one knee.

William held out his hand. “It’s okay Buck.”

Sonya stepped around William, bent down and hugged Buck. “Thank you.”

“Will you two come and stay at my house, please?”

“No, they aren’t going to run us off,” Sonya said glancing over at Gene.

“Hey, you can go, but we are coming with you,” he said with a nod.

“Keep William home then,” Buck said getting up.

“Oh, I am,” Sonya said. “You’re worried they will try it again, aren’t you?”

Buck shook his head and turned to Gene. “What am I worried about Gene?”

“Joshua is going to come down on them hard for this and they will want to retaliate,” Gene said.

Nodding, Buck looked around, “Keep your people more spread out.”

“Mom, what do you think Dad is going to do?” William asked.

Gene stepped over, “Live up to his namesake, he’ll bring biblical fury.” Nobody could have even guessed how right Gene actually was.

Chapter Seventeen

That afternoon Joshua woke up just three miles away from where Buck was ready to start a war on the slope of Watson Mountain. When he listened to the FM station, Joshua grabbed his gear, running to get on King having only heard, “The federal government kidnapped William Anderson from school using helicopters and SWAT teams.”

It wasn’t till he’d jumped on King bareback and grabbed a handful of King’s mane did he hear, “Sheriff Harper led a group of deputies and private citizens to the Elk Lodge and reclaimed William Anderson from federal custody. Eyewitness reports state that Sheriff Harper was ready to go to war to get the thirteen-year-old William Anderson back.”

Almost panting, Joshua slid off of King and landed on the ground hard, feeling lightheaded. The government’s plan would’ve succeeded because he would’ve charged in. He wouldn’t have surrendered and the government would’ve won.

As the relief left his body, Joshua got back up, feeling his mind turn cold. “I’ll show you a war,” he said and packed up his camp. He rode hard ten miles north and picked up the explosives and then he turned back around. In what should’ve taken him six hours, Joshua was back on Watson Mountain in three hours and moved south toward the resorts.

The sun had been down for two hours when he tied up King and the mule a mile away from Elk Lodge. Not knowing how much explosives he would need, Joshua took fifty pounds. Since he had on the vest with all his magazines, he left his pack.

Walking down the ridge, he could see out over Priest Lake and took his time. Reaching Reeder Bay Rd, Joshua held up in the trees. Down the road past Ledgewood Drive he saw a roadblock with two SUVs. He looked at the SUVs and saw that they were forestry service law enforcement division. Looking the other way down the road, he didn’t see anything.

Darting across the road, he dropped down when he’d reached the trees. Not hearing that he’d alerted anything, Joshua eased up in a crouch and moved on. He could see the houses and cabins around him, many with lights on.

Slowing to a snail’s pace, Joshua moved quietly forward, paralleling Elkins Road. Reaching the boat launch parking area, he moved up behind a tree and laid on his stomach. A huge tent was just ahead with lights around it. Past the tent he saw two generators, and he could just make out another tent in the main parking lot of the lodge.

Having spotted one target, Joshua crawled back further into the narrow stand of trees. He looked around as he pulled the bag with explosives to his chest. With the big industrial area work lights only a hundred yards away, he had more than enough light to work by. Not knowing what was in his target area, Joshua used half of the fifty pounds. Wiring the caps to the clock he’d used, Joshua set the alarm.

Moving to the north past a fire pit, Joshua used the trees and shadows to go around the lit up parking area. He saw a few people walking around, but they seemed unafraid and relaxed. Most were carrying papers from this tent to the tent in the main parking lot.

Dropping the bag with the rest of the explosives, Joshua kept watch till he didn’t see anyone and trotted over to his target. Crawling underneath it, Joshua shoved the bundle over the axle of his target. He froze when he heard two people talking as they walked past. Not ten yards away from him.

When they’d passed, he moved from behind the wheels and looked toward the next tent and saw his next target. The problem was that this target was only twenty yards from the other tent, and this tent made the other thousand-square-foot tents look small. From where he was, he could see through an open door to the inside the tent. Tables ran in huge rows with computers sitting on them and on the road heading to the dock, he saw rows of satellite dishes aiming up at the sky.

Hearing more voices coming, he eased back under the target and saw a group of people heading to the monster tent, all carrying boxes. Waiting till they were gone and glancing around, he slowly moved back to the few trees and grabbed the rest of his explosives.

Laying down, he made his last bomb and set the alarm. Rolling back to his stomach, he crawled to the last tree before the parking lot and waited. On the other side of the tent, going up to the main office were several groups of people. He crawled back to the next tree and waited.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his small digital camera. He turned it on, took a picture of the group and then pressed the record button. Aiming at the group, Joshua said in a normal voice. “This is Joshua Anderson,” and tilted the camera to show the bomb he’d made. “I do this of my own free will. You fucked with my family and now I have to kill all of you.” Not showing his face to the camera and hitting pause, he shoved the camera back in his pocket.

There in the shadows, he laid for an hour till the group had all gone back into the tent or had left. Hearing a diesel engine behind him, Joshua slowly rolled on his side to see an MRAP stop on Lodgepole Lane fifty yards behind him and a bunch of men in black tactical gear got out and walked toward the other tent, following a dirt track that connected the Lodgepole to Elkins Rd. This was the first time he’d seen one of the huge vehicles up close, and really didn’t want to see it any closer.

If the group had headed to the other tent, they would’ve passed within feet of him. As it was, the closest man only got  within five yards. Hearing them talking and laughing, Joshua almost pulled out his M4 and started right there.

The group was laughing at how the kids and teachers had screamed when they’d run into the school to get William. Their only saving grace was when one shouted, “You see how hard that kid fought back? We had to cuff him so he wouldn’t hurt himself.”

Proud that his son had fought back and knowing he had to show them what happened when you messed with his family, Joshua stayed calm when another MRAP pulled up. A group of guys dressed like the others got out but stayed around the MRAP.

Looking back toward the monster tent, he didn’t see anyone close and crawled back to the last tree before the parking lot. Glancing around and not seeing anyone, Joshua pushed up and darted over, diving under the target. He paused, but didn’t hear any calls of alarm and checked his bomb. Seeing it was okay, he shoved it over the axle. This close to the tent, he could hear people talking inside and the hum of a bunch of computers and TVs.

Glancing back, he saw the group still standing around the MRAP and knew the other group was around the first tent. He looked south to where a small canal to the lake had been dug and some cabins ran beside it. Looking around, Joshua darted across the parking lot to the trees that were around the closest cabin and stopped.

Taking his M4 off his back, he hung it across his chest. Easing past the cabin, he heard men talking inside and a TV blaring. Still with ample light, Joshua pulled out his camera again and hit the record button. “This I do in retaliation for your actions against my family. This is now a war. Look on the dock for my calling card,” he said and held up a scrench. Others called it a chainsaw T-wrench, but loggers called it a scrench. After turning the camera off, he put it in a plastic bag and hoped the pamphlet about the night vision goggles was correct on how waterproof they were.

Coming to the canal, Joshua eased to the bank and silently slipped in, drawing in a sharp breath as the cold water started sucking heat from his body. When he was chest deep, he continued lowering his body till just his eyes and nose were out of the water.

Walking along the bottom, Joshua headed for the lake and towards the marina. The sky was clear and there wasn’t a moon out, but if anyone saw a helmeted head floating by in the water, they would certainly investigate.

Reaching the marina, the ground fell away and Joshua treaded water while heading for the docks. On the docks, he saw tall antennas lined up and a few more satellite dishes. Reaching the docks, he lifted out of the water and drove the scrench into the boards as he lowered himself back down into the water. Gently swimming under the docks so he wouldn’t leave a wake or splash, Joshua cleared the pilings for the dock and continued swimming parallel to the bank.

Willing his body not to shiver, he picked up a little speed but felt his feet start to go numb in the frigid water. In March, Priest Lake is cold.

Knowing he couldn’t stay in the water much longer, Joshua dog paddled past a floating platform that was about seventy yards off the beach. Fighting the desire to climb up on the platform just to get out of the water, Joshua swam on, knowing the platform offered no reprieve.

He started angling toward the beach and could easily make out the line of cabins that Elk Lodge rented out, and most had lights on. When his feet finally touched bottom, Joshua lowered his body to keep it in the water as he walked to shore. This took great effort because his body wanted to get the hell out of the water.

When the water was only two feet deep, he stood and moved to the bank and shivers erupted from his body. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop. Trying to grab his M4, Joshua found his hands didn’t work and his legs moved like they were made of wood. Moving next to a tree, Joshua looked between the cabins and saw that he was just past the first tent. Outside it, he saw the first group of guys that were dressed in tactical gear.

Moving between the cabins and using trees as cover, he crossed Elkins Rd and stopped when he was still several yards away. Getting on his knees, he pulled his vest off, then his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. Putting the vest back on, he realized it was an easy fifty degrees but it actually felt warm compared to his jacket. Knowing that was the best he could do for now, Joshua moved beside the road up to Reeder Bay Rd and stopped again. Hearing a vehicle coming, he dropped down. As white as his skin was, Joshua thought he might glow in the night.

When the vehicle had passed, he lifted his head and saw it approaching the roadblock that the forestry vehicles made. Not waiting or caring, Joshua darted across the road and fell into the ditch on the other side. Scrambling into the trees, it was getting harder to make his legs work.

Through sheer will alone, he moved up the hill he’d left King and the mule on. When he reached King, Joshua dropped to his knees and fell on his back, shivering so bad that his vision was wobbling. With inhuman effort, he pulled off his boots and pants. With only his tactical vest left, he pulled it off and crawled to King.

On the back of the saddle rolled up like a bedroll were the two wool blankets he’d worked on at the dugout. On one side, he’d sewn fishing net and had cut up some of the A-Tac camo and some of his own in strips, tying it to the net to make a ghillie blanket. Then on the other side, he’d sewn an emergency heating blanket.

Falling to the ground and wrapped up in the ghillie blanket, Joshua remembered the day that Chris had shown him one. It wasn’t until he’d made these and had carried one outside and covered up King with it that he’d believed they worked. Looking through the thermal scope, King had looked like his body had completely disappeared.

Knowing that he couldn’t stay there, Joshua stood up and wrapped the blanket around him, hearing the shiny heating blanket crinkle. Grabbing his gear with numb hands, Joshua hung it on the mule, only keeping his M4. Climbing in the saddle barefoot and naked, Joshua pulled the other blanket off and draped it over his legs.

It didn’t take long to realize that it also trapped King’s body heat. Spreading the one over his shoulders out to catch more of King’s body heat, Joshua kicked King in the side and guided him north. When he crossed Granite Creek, Joshua pulled his bare feet up, not wanting any water to touch them.

It took an hour for his feet to get feeling back in them. Wanting to go to sleep, Joshua pushed on until he reached Watson Mountain. Climbing off King, Joshua tied him to a tree and pulled his backpack off the mule. He dug out more clothes and dressed. Pulling out some heat tabs, Joshua grabbed his boots. Making a tent with one of the ghillie blankets, he put his boots under it and lit a heat tab, placing it beside them.

Taking his sleeping bag off of his pack, he crawled inside. Looking through the breaks in the trees, he could see small spots of the lake. Grabbing his wet pants, Joshua pulled out the plastic bag with the camera and sighed, relieved to see that it was still dry. Tossing the pants in with the boots, Joshua lit another heat tab and put it in the make-shift tent.

Pulling the camera out of the bag, he turned it on and played what he recorded. Joshua had started carrying one of these years ago when they’d gotten so cheap. When he’d first arrived at the dugout and before he’d shaved, he had made a recording, in case things didn’t go his way.

Watching what he’d recorded, Joshua thought that it was either going to be seen as very foolish or very bold. To be honest, he didn’t care. They’d fucked with his family. It could be said that the feds were threatening his family when they’d gone after his livelihood and that would be correct. But to kidnap his son just to get to him, the government, which forced him to pay ridiculous taxes, had gone too far.

When Joshua got the warning from William that Ben had sent, he’d made the choice to fight back and not run. Kidnapping his son had turned the war; hiding and running wasn’t part of the plan anymore. Now, he would take the fight to them and kill as many as he could. From now on, he would film it just to show them that it was him, Joshua Anderson, the one they’d tried to kill just to take what he had built.

Feeling better, Joshua dug in his pack and pulled out the radio. Before he’d gone to sleep after killing that man in the RV, he’d heard the call go out for the search teams to get picked up. Joshua knew only twenty teams had gone out today and he knew where they’d been dropped off at. The other teams were staying back, along with those returning to get some kind of special training.

Thinking of that, Joshua chuckled, “You’re about to get some training. Looking for me out there in the mountains while I’m crawling around you here in your command area. Now you will know that I can show up anywhere.” Glancing at his watch and seeing it was 0310, Joshua set his alarm to vibrate and leaned back.

At six, he sat up when he felt his wrist vibrating. Pushing the button and turning off the alarm, he slowly stood up stretching as King leaned over with his head, nudging him. “Okay, hold on,” Joshua said and checked his boots feeling they were still damp, but the pants were dry. Putting another heat tab in, Joshua pulled a small bag of feed off of the mule.

Pulling out the feed bags, he filled them and put one on King and the other on the mule. Folding the empty bag up, Joshua carefully walked to his sleeping bag since he was still barefoot. Knowing the teams out were to report via radio between 0630 and 0700, Joshua pulled out his notepad and set it down.

Grabbing the M4, he broke it down and cleaned it before putting it back together. Hearing the radio start to come to life, he picked up his notepad and pen. Over the next thirty minutes, he got the location of fourteen of the twenty teams out. This shocked him that so many that went out had made contact. Then, when someone asked about the others that didn’t report in, a woman came over and said they had contacted by satellite phone.

To Joshua, that could only mean that the teams that were out had some knowledge of moving in the woods. When the man asked about team eighty-one, the woman reported that there was still no contact. “You’ll be waiting a while on those,” he said to himself and pulled out the map as the woman gave the location of the teams that had called by satellite phone.

Looking at the radio, “Thank you,” Joshua said and started marking locations.

Most were below Lamb Creek but one was near his cabin, which they still hadn’t reported finding. The team was just west of Blacktail Mountain. Another team was near Upper Priest Lake, looking for him and team eighty-one.

Folding the map up, Joshua put it away and dug out the cellphone William had given him. Glancing at his watch, Joshua took a deep breath and turned it on. As the phone woke up, he grabbed the camera and pulled out the memory card, putting it in the phone.

When the screen came on, he saw he had an excellent signal up on the mountain. Pressing the internet button, he put the web address to his favorite alternate news site and tapped the contact button. In the message box, he typed, ‘You will want to watch this.’ Next, he attached the video he took last night and hit send.

When the message said ‘done’, Joshua turned off the phone. Putting it up, he moved over and checked on his boots. Happy they were finally dry, he grabbed some socks and put them on. Packing up quickly, he put the vest on and it was still damp enough to send shivers through him.

Taking out his camera, Joshua looked at his watch. Chris had shown him and Ben how they could use the alarm function on a battery operated clock as a detonator. After Chris blew up a tree showing them it worked, Chris even gave them each a dozen of the clocks. Never believing he would use them, Joshua had just left the box of them at the cabin. When he’d emptied the cabin, those clocks were the first things he’d packed.

At two minutes till eight, Joshua pulled out the camera and looked toward the resort. He felt bad about the people that worked there, but as far as he was concerned, they were collaborators. No announcement had been on the FM radio about them all leaving.

Hitting record, he knew this would be the last easy time he could hit the command area and doubted he would be able to again. “Just want to show you what happens when you mess with my family. It’s 0759, and those down there have thirty seconds to live. To those innocents there, I’m sorry but they are after my family and I will kill them all. I was just a hardworking man till they wanted it all and tried to kill me, and then went after my family. If you stay near them, then you take the chance that my wrath will find you. One man can only be pushed so much and so far, and going after my family was the last straw,” he said zooming in. “Joshua’s war has started,” he said as the area vanished in a fireball.

Down at the command area, teams were gathered around as classes started. The mood wasn’t good since all of the staff from the lodge had left, and then all of the employees had left from the other resorts that the feds had taken over. Breakfast was now cold cereal and bagels, but there was a bright spot. Cooks would be here for lunch and good meals would resume.

The targets that Joshua had spotted were tanker trailers that had been delivered to the command center. Most fuel stations had quit selling the feds any gas by simply closing. Truth be told, the three stations within forty miles could never have supported the operation by supplying fuel. The loss of revenue from the feds taking over the area and the problems they were causing was just too much. So Burrows had called Boise and had a tanker of diesel and one of gas delivered. They were able to say that it was because the local population wasn’t helping, but it was the only way they would be able to sustain over fifteen hundred people. They had to have their own fuel supply.

Generators were necessary because of all of the equipment the feds used, and none of the lodges were wired to supply it. So the diesel tanker was set beside the generators and the gas tanker was placed beside the monster tent because that was the only place it would fit, and it could be watched so the locals wouldn’t steal fuel. Just beside the parking lot where the monster tent was set up in were two, one thousand gallon tanks of propane.

At eight, those closest never heard the explosion that killed them. Four thousand gallons of diesel, three thousand gallons of gasoline were each detonated by twenty-five pounds of explosive. That in turn, set off the two thousand gallons of propane.

The tankers and propane tanks formed a line just over a hundred yards long. Anyone within two hundred yards of this line simply vanished like they’d never existed. The lodge evaporated, along with many of the cabins. From two hundred yards out to three hundred yards, the death rate was close to a hundred percent. A person’s chance of survival didn’t hit fifty percent unless they’d been four hundred yards away.

In the blink of an eye, four hundred and ninety-six souls died. From over a hundred of those, nothing was found and it would be days until the feds were able to tell who wasn’t there. As luck would have it for the Idaho State Troopers assigned to assist, the governor had pulled them out at 0600. For the others, the only luck was for those that had died instantly.

Three miles away on Watson Mountain, Joshua watched the explosion as the two fireball columns joined into one, reaching for the sky. The sound hit him seconds later, actually moving him as he watched a mushroom cloud rise up over the area.

Eight miles away, Sonya and everyone else was sitting at the table eating when the house shook violently for a brief second, rattling the windows so badly that two broke as the soundwave of thunder hit and the Earth itself, shook from the explosion. Many of the pictures hanging on the walls fell off and everyone dove under the table, thinking it was an earthquake.

Thirty miles away in Sandpoint, Buck was walking into his office at the station when the windows rattled a little and then what sounded like thunder rolled over. “What the hell was that?” he mumbled and stepped out to see his secretary looking around in wonder.

Gene was getting off the ground in Sonya’s front yard, looking to the northeast and saw the mushroom cloud rising up. He knew where it was at. “Boys, get ready for shit!” he yelled out as Ben came running out of the house and froze upon seeing the cloud rising up.

“What the hell?” Ben said skidding to a halt.

Gene turned to Ben with a grave face. “Joshua just let them know. He’s mad now.”

Pointing at the cloud, “Gene, there’s no way. There’s not that much explosive around here, it was probably an accident.”

Shaking his head, “No, you’ll see, it was Joshua,” Gene said. “Call the rest of the men helping us guard here. Those with campers, tell them to bring ‘em.”

“Joshua didn’t have a nuke!” Ben shouted as the others came out, gasping at the towering cloud.

Gene looked at Sonya as she staggered off the porch. “Sonya, I’m having Ben call the others helping us guard to stay here for a while. Most live too remote and could vanish rather easily. I want them to bring their campers and the ones that don’t have one, I’ll go over and get the shop set up.”

Realizing what Gene was saying, she turned to him in shock. “No, we will make room. Pull our camper out and set it up,” she mumbled looking back at the cloud. “How in the hell did he do that?”

“Josh couldn’t make that kind of explosion!” Ben shouted.

Sonya turned to Ben with wide eyes, “Yes, he could Ben. They went after his family. Not even a day later, he let them know what happens when they do,” she said turning back to the cloud. “Hell comes to visit them.”

Agent Moore and Griffey were in Nordman standing outside the crime scene of the dead agent when they were almost knocked down by the concussion wave, two miles away.

Number two man, FBI Special Agent in Charge, Timothy Burrows had been filling his SUV with gas, to join them, when the explosion went off.

Chapter Eighteen

It was 0815 when Buck was pulled outside to see the mushroom cloud to the northwest. “Oh my God,” he mumbled turning to Duane, “Get some deputies up there and find out what happened, but don’t pull off the deputies we have at Sonya’s.”

“Buck, what do you think happened?” Duane asked staring in shock at the cloud over the mountain tops. “The deputies at Sonya’s said it broke windows there and could only have come from Elk Lodge or nearby.”

“We don’t know and won’t speculate, is that clear?” Buck said spinning around and heading inside.

“Sheriff, a marine patrol from Lake Priest is on the site,” a deputy shouted and Buck took off running to dispatch.

Busting in the room, the officer held up the microphone. “This is the Sheriff, what do you see?”

“This is Marine Patrol nine, we are near the boat docks and the lodge is gone, sir. It looks like a nuke went off.”

“Marine Patrol, keep your speculations to yourself. Now, what of survivors?”

“Sir, it’s an inferno in here now. It may be spring but the trees, for a mile around where the lodge used to be, are going up in flames. I’m about to put ashore and get as close as I can.”

“Nothing is left of the lodge, is that correct, Marine Patrol?” the sheriff asked.

“Correct, sir. Those big tanker trailers, tents, cars, satellite dishes, I mean everything is gone.”

“You don’t even see the tanker trailers?”

“No sir,” Marine Patrol called back. “We did a drive by at 0700 and photographed the area, and they were both still sitting beside those big fancy tents.”

“Roger, Marine Patrol. You have permission to land as close as you can to check for survivors, but under no circumstances are you to venture into the blast site. I’m calling for air drops from the Forestry Service to start as soon as possible and I don’t want you in that area.”

“Copy Sheriff,” Marine Patrol called back and Buck dropped the microphone, turning around and almost running into Duane.

“How could they blow themselves up, boss?” Duane asked, moving to let Buck pass. “It seems kind of hard to make a blast that big.”

“It is, contrary to Hollywood,” Buck said walking past his secretary. “Get me all rural fire departments and anyone with a tanker plane or chopper to help put out that fire so we can get some help in there. Call Cory and tell him he’s driving me again and I want him here in ten minutes.”

Walking into his office, Buck grabbed his coat. “Duane, get me some firefighters up there and start sending ambulances. I’ll set up a command post at Nordman. Call everyone we have and get them on duty, then get someone to call all of the hospitals in the area and tell them to get ready for mass casualties.”

“All right, you want us to set up a roadblock to keep the looky loos away?”

Grabbing his hat, Buck nodded. “Yeah, set it up where the National Guard was located at Outlet Bay. Unless they live there or are an emergency responder, they don’t get through.”

The secretary came running in, “Sheriff, the aviation captain in Coeur d’Alene wants to speak to you. He says he only has two tanker planes ready to fly, the others are being serviced for fire season.”

“Duane, take care of it and use my office,” Buck said walking past her.

Walking out the front, Buck saw Cory waiting. Opening the door and tossing in the satchel he used for a briefcase, Buck jumped in. “Okay Cory. Same place as yesterday,” Buck sighed and Cory hit the lights and sirens. Glancing behind them, Buck could see other patrol cars and patrol SUVs following them.

“My mom called me from Coolin and said it shook the house,” Cory said, weaving around cars that had pulled over to let them past.

“Marine Patrol said those fuel tankers are gone. I’m just trying to figure out how in the hell they could blow up. Those tankers are designed not to do that even if they caught on fire, so people can escape,” Buck said taking off his hat and running a hand over his head. “Hope you don’t have plans because we aren’t leaving for a while.”

“My schedule is free sheriff,” Cory grinned. “I have to say sir, I like being your partner. Not many rookies can say they were partnered with the sheriff.”

Buck grinned, liking that Cory looked at his assignment as a partner, not a driver. “Well partner, from what I’ve been told, we are going to hell,” he said losing the smile.

“I’ll watch your back sheriff,” Cory said as they were coming to Priest River.

“Glad someone is,” Buck mumbled as his cellphone rang. “Hello,” he answered.

“Buck, it’s Duane. You have two planes in the air now. You’re not going to believe this, but the pilots were there for training. They will beat you there and should have a drop on the site.”

“First good news of the day,” Buck sighed.

“They are calling in one chopper from Spokane and you have a dozen ambulances behind you right now. I’ve got over a dozen air ambulance services ready to roll. Just need a place to set up for landings. Hospitals from Spokane to Missoula and down to Boise have been notified.”

“I’ll get the units with me to close off Highway 57 past Reeder Bay Rd and we can use the highway. Has Marine Patrol nine reported back?”

“Yeah Buck. He can’t get close because of the fire.”

“Tell him to pull out and contact the Priest Lake substation and get some boats on the water. We’ll need people on the ground when the planes get the fire under control enough for us to go in.”

“You be careful Buck. We are law, not firefighters.”

“Duane, like most around here I’ve logged, which means I’ve fought fires during fire season.”

“Ah, yeah, but you’re the boss, so don’t get tied up in hands-on business. Remember, you direct, not dive in.”

Buck grinned, “That’s what I have a partner for Duane. I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”

Hanging up as Cory turned on Highway 57 heading north, Buck tried to prepare himself for what he was about to see. Ten miles outside of Priest River, he saw two tanker planes fly past him, heading north. “Come on boys. Show me how good you are,” he mumbled watching the planes slowly disappear.

Barely slowing down as they blew through Lamb Creek, Cory glanced over at the sheriff. “See sir? If they would’ve just let you handle this, it would all be over.”

“Yes, but that’s not what they wanted,” Buck said and stopped himself before he said anymore. Approaching Nordman, they saw federal vehicles blocking the road. “Pull around them in front of the store,” Buck said grabbing the radio.

“To all units in the area, this is the sheriff. We are going to run this rescue operation because some of our citizens are in there. Any federal officer that tries to stop you from doing that is to be arrested and transported back to Sandpoint for prosecution.”

Tossing the mic down as Cory pulled over, he saw several agents had pulled their weapons. “Cory, if they shoot me, you’d better avenge me,” Buck said grabbing the door handle and getting out.

“Get out of my area!” Griffey bellowed, charging at Buck.

Grabbing the AR from the rack, Cory jumped out and racked the slide, aiming at Griffey as other patrol cars rolled up with deputies jumping out and pulling weapons. “Sir, you will stop or I will fire!” Cory shouted and Buck glanced back, giving a startle to see Cory aiming at Griffey.

“Boy takes me seriously,” Buck said turning to Griffey. “You will move or I’ll move you. Are we clear? I’m here to run this disaster area and you will not interfere or so help me, I’ll bury you in this parking lot,” he growled, hearing the tanker planes making their runs.

“Agents, lower your weapons!” Agent Moore shouted, walking up beside Griffey and pushing him back. He turned to Buck, “Sheriff, we appreciate this,” he said.

“Moore, the road north of this turn off will be used as a landing zone for choppers coming in to airlift the injured. I need you to get your men to close the road a mile down. Unless they are yours or mine, they stay put until further notice.”

Moore spun around and pointed at three men at random. “Get two dozen men, move one mile north and shut the road down. Prepare for evac of wounded!” he shouted and they took off as Buck looked up to see a tanker plane fly over them, banking back towards the lake. “We sent in a team, but they got trapped by the fire,” Moore said.

“We will go in. Have your people hold and set up a triage area. Ambulances will be here in minutes,” Buck said, slowly turning to Moore. “I’m going to trust you out here running this until I get back. You fuck this up, and I will find out if feds can swim with concrete tied to their feet.”

“Sheriff, I will take care of this, I promise you,” Moore said taking off his jacket.

“Cory, lower your weapon and prepare to drive me and another unit in!” Buck shouted while looking at Moore. “Call my office and tell Duane we are setting up triage here at the hotel in Nordman. If I can get through, I’m radioing my deputies to start transporting wounded out and you better be ready to receive them.”

Moore nodded and Buck spun away as Moore started shouting at people, with Griffey staring holes into the sheriff’s back. “Cory, is one of the other rescue patrol rigs with us?”

“Yes sir. Unit thirty.”

Grabbing the radio as Cory turned on the highway. “Unit thirty, follow us and all other units stay back, but get ready to assist in the evacuation of wounded,” Buck called out as another tanker flew over and banked back toward the lake.

“Looks like they are dropping on the road, sheriff,” Cory said driving slow down Reeder Bay Rd heading toward the lake.

“They are, so we can get in,” Buck said in a drone, seeing a plane pull up and fire leaping up over the trees ahead. “Cory, drive slow and if I say backup, you’d better impress your partner.”

Cory only nodded, seeing the leaping flames. “It’s spring, the trees aren’t that flammable now.”

“They are son, if the fire that started them is hot enough,” Buck said.

Three-quarters of a mile from the lake they reached the edge and could tell where the planes had dropped along the road. Seeing people at the houses beside the road, Buck grabbed the radio. “First four cars, come down Reeder Bay to Mandy Lane. We have survivors. When one gets back, another car to follow emptying houses. Use caution, some are on fire. Unit thirty, stop and assist until relieved, sheriff pushing forward.”

“Sheriff, this is Marine Patrol nine with twenty other boats, the tankers have made us a fire-free zone at the beach. Requesting permission to set ashore and look for survivors.”

“Marine Patrol nine, you’re in charge and if you get my deputies hurt, you and I will have words,” Buck said staring ahead at the inferno. “Permission granted, relay back to dispatch your findings so they can coordinate.”

“Roger sheriff.”

After passing the first two houses on Mandy Lane, they didn’t see any more people around the houses, but saw that the houses were on fire with some showing structural damage from the explosion. “Want to check these houses sheriff?”

“No, keep going,” Buck said grabbing the radio and ordering four more patrol cars in and another four to continue down Reeder Bay. Driving over and around debris until they were a quarter of a mile away, Cory stopped.

“Holy shit,” he said, looking ahead. From them, to the lake over four hundred yards away, was a barren wasteland.

Buck grabbed the radio. “Units still in Nordman, we are a quarter mile from lake and need assistance with wounded.”

Dropping the radio, Buck grabbed the door. “Well partner, looks like a shitty day,” he said and opened the door as a tanker plane dumped south of them.

Several hours later from inside the hotel, Moore was directing pickup trucks loaded with wounded to head straight to Coeur d’Alene with a police escort. Helicopters were landing every few minutes as others took off, ferrying the wounded around the area. He had to admit, Sheriff Harper knew what the hell he was doing.

Seeing a deputy walk past, Moore waved him over. “Deputy, Sheriff Harper said to get someone to a county tax assessor’s office and pull the tax records from here so we know how many civilians we are looking for.”

“Yes sir,” the deputy said and moved to his car.

“Only the last three houses on Mandy Lane had people in them,” Griffey said walking up while hanging up his cellphone. “And they were to be out by ten hundred.”

“Come again?” Moore said turning around.

“I ordered all civilians within a mile of the command area vacated, under National Security Directive. With the civilians no longer working in the lodges, I could control who had access to the command area. I didn’t need to have the locals letting Mr. Anderson know what we were doing.”

Closing his eyes, Moore wanted to turn in his retirement papers on the spot. “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

“It was at the 0900 briefing,” Griffey snapped. “In case you didn’t know, it was postponed.”

“Agent Moore,” a deputy said running in. “We have a building in town now that we can start moving the deceased into.”

“Good, find box trucks to do it, so we aren’t driving truckloads of bodies in plain sight. Kids and families don’t need to see that.”

“Yes sir. I’ll call my buddy at the U-Haul place,” the deputy said pulling out his cellphone.

“You’re doing a good job Moore,” Griffey said looking around.

Shaking his head and grabbing a clipboard, “No, Sheriff Harper is doing a good job,” he corrected as a deputy handed him a sheet of paper. “Is this a list of ground or air wounded that have been taken out?” he asked the deputy.

“Air sir,” he said walking out and Moore turned to Griffey.

“Griffey, if you even attempt to act like we set up and controlled this rescue, I’ll burn you.”

“Not my concern,” Griffey said pulling out his phone. “But you are running this show.”

“No, I’m running one little side show. Sheriff Harper is at ground zero running it.”

“I’ve been called back to Washington, I need you to keep me up to date on wounded,” Griffey said tapping a message on his phone. “I cleared those people out so they couldn’t spy and this couldn’t happen Moore.”

Shaking his head, Moore stumbled back. “Huh?”

Putting his phone up, Griffey looked at Moore with a blank face. “This was a terrible accident Agent Moore. BATF has already reviewed drone footage from dawn and has concluded that somehow the tankers caught on fire and blew up.”

“We haven’t even been on the scene, so how could they?”

“That is what happened, Agent Moore,” Griffey said lowering his voice and stepping closer. “Even if it wasn’t, that’s what happened. We can’t acknowledge that we were attacked on this scale, if that’s what really happened, but I’ve been assured that by the time I get to Washington, the BATF will have a plausible explanation.”

Looking around and keeping his voice low. “My God, man. If we were attacked, you can’t sweep that under the rug. I truly doubt it, but you can’t bury the truth.”

Griffey smiled and Moore fought the urge to punch him. Smiling in the event of what had happened seemed beyond callous. “You know yourself that we hide the truth that would hurt. Need I remind you, Agent Moore? You’ve done it yourself.”

“Yeah, and over a decade later, they are still talking about the cover up,” he whispered.

“Talking doesn’t do anything, Agent Moore. The majority will always believe our version, even if it doesn’t make sense. If asked, you refer any questions about the explosion to BATF.”

“If proof comes out, we are finished.”

“It won’t. Now, keep your cellphone close and keep me updated,” Griffey said and walked out.

As Griffey left, Moore glanced at a clock seeing it was almost 1300. “Feels like I’ve been going a week,” he mumbled as another deputy walked in with another list.

“Ground,” he said, dropping it beside the clipboard.

Moore turned to see one of his agents walking in. “You, find a phone and call every hospital in two hundred miles and tell them to make a list of the wounded they have received, and call the FBI office in DC every two hours giving them the names. They can stop when they stop receiving wounded.”

The agent nodded and moved back outside, pulling his cellphone out as Buck walked in and saw Moore behind the counter. “Change of job?” Buck asked.

Moore looked up and Buck was covered in soot. He smelled of fire but by now, everywhere the wounded or the personnel had been smelled like it. “Not yet,” Moore said adding the new numbers. “Have we made it around the perimeter?”

“Nope, I don’t think we will have that done till tonight.”

Moore reached down and grabbed a bottle of water, holding it out to the sheriff. “You need it,” he said.

“You pay for this?” Buck asked ripping the top off.

Nodding, “Told the owner to give me a bill for everything on the property and I would have a check here by tomorrow,” Moore said as Buck leaned over the counter.

“Moore, one of my deputies just told me that the people around the lodge were evicted last night. The last three houses on Mandy Lane were all that was left, and they only had till ten hundred to vacate or be prosecuted for failure to follow a federal evacuation for national security.”

“I just found out,” Moore said holding up his hands. “But let’s face it, if we hadn’t done that, more would’ve been killed.”

“Oh, so you had this explosion and suddenly it’s justified, throwing people out of their homes?”

“Sheriff Harper,” Moore sighed. “It was a mistake that I didn’t know about. I was processing the crime scene of one of ‘my’ team. I’ve known Agent Kellogg for ten years and selected him myself, for my team.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said sincerely. “Any leads?”

“We got good prints that weren’t his,” Moore said, looking up as another list was passed to him.

“My investigator is down at the scene doing preliminary work if you want to send someone down to join. I told Duane to be expecting someone.”

Glancing around, Moore leaned over the counter. “Sheriff, tell your man to stop. The BATF is ruling this explosion an accident.”

“Of course it is, but how would they know? They haven’t been down there.”

Straightening up, Moore looked at Buck with pleading eyes. “Sheriff, you’re doing an excellent job here but please, tell your man to stop and wait till the BATF gets here.”

Looking around and seeing that nobody was paying them any attention, Buck stepped around the counter. “Okay, no bullshit. You think this was sabotage?”

Shaking his head, Moore spoke in a low voice. “On and off the record, I’m saying no. But if it is, the government will not allow someone to claim responsibility for it.”

With a snort, Buck waved his hand. “Why? That would give you all the ammunition you needed to justify killing Joshua. Why not frame him?”

“Sheriff, this isn’t a building with kids. It was a command area with over a thousand active agents in a federal search for a wanted fugitive. Several reports have already been filed about the hostile nature of the population around here. Homeland and Washington will not be seen as vulnerable.”

Buck stepped back and his mouth dropped open. “Homeland doesn’t want to be seen like they can be attacked. I mean, if this was sabotage.”

“Basically,” Moore nodded. “But like I said and you said, I don’t see this as sabotage. It would take a team of men who knew exactly what they were doing, just to infiltrate the command area. There were six different SWAT teams on site, along with a thousand plus agents, so just think of what that team would’ve had to do to pull this off.”

Stepping around the counter, “Agent Moore, I’m going to talk to those people you threw out and smooth this over but I can guarantee you, this will be the only time I allow you to throw people from their homes. The only reason I’m going to do it, is because it saved their lives from this accident. If they want to sue, I’m not stopping them.”

“That much would be greatly appreciated, sheriff.”

“I’m not kidding about throwing people from their homes. You must show me a valid warrant from a judge in this state for me to allow it and not order my men to stop it.”

Moore nodded as another list was passed over. “I will pass that along, but I’m sure you know by now, those of us left here aren’t calling the shots.”

Wishing he had lost the election and happy he’d won it at the same time, Buck walked out to find Cory waiting by the SUV. “Where to sheriff?” he asked opening his door.

“Head to Sonya’s. I want to check on them before we go back to hell,” he said walking around and climbing in.

Soon, they were on the side road that led up to Sonya’s, waiting for the massive dozer to move. When the dozer pulled back, Cory drove past the small collection of houses to the end of the street and stopped at Sonya’s. Buck climbed out to see Ben and Gene standing in the front yard with rifles over their shoulders and pistols on their hips.

“Now that’s a neighborhood watch,” he said, climbing out.

Gene and Ben shook their heads, looking at the soot-covered sheriff. “Looks like you pulled fire season sheriff,” Ben smiled.

“No, fire season doesn’t involve masses of bodies and wounded,” he said walking over. “Everyone here okay?”

“We’re good Buck,” Gene said as the door opened and Sonya and Mrs. Anderson stepped out onto the porch.

“What did those damn G-men do?” Mrs. Anderson shouted, waving her hand toward the smoke.

“They tell me it was an accident on one of the fuel tankers they’d had on site,” Buck said smiling at her.

“Dumbasses,” she mumbled and Sonya helped her down the front steps.

“Sheriff, sit down. Barbara and the boys are bringing you a plate,” Sonya said smiling.

“No Sonya. I just came by to check on you and William to make sure you’re alright.”

“Of course they are fine,” Mrs. Anderson snapped. “Now, you get your tail on that porch to that table and sit. I’m not in the mood for your sassiness today Buck,” she said waving a long finger in his face. “I spanked your bottom when you were twelve at the church social, and I’ll do it again.”

“I’m not in the mood for a spanking,” Buck sighed and headed for the porch.

Sonya turned to Cory who was talking to the deputy stationed at the house. “Cory, come and eat, Eddie’s already ate,” Sonya shouted.

“I’m fine ma’am,” Cory smiled.

“Cory, I will call your mother,” Sonya said putting her hands on her hips and Cory nodded, heading to the porch.

Gene looked over at Ben. “I hope you took notes,” he grinned. “See how they avoided a fight.”

“I’m going to check on Chris,” Ben huffed and headed around the house.

Gene walked up onto the porch as Barbara and the boys brought out plates and drinks. As Buck and Cory dug in, Gene stared at Sonya till she looked up at him. He looked from her to the boys, Mrs. Anderson and Barbara to the house and did it again.

“Nana, let’s go inside so you can show us how to make this cobbler,” Sonya said getting up. They all left, leaving only Gene with Buck and Cory. He sat down with them and pulled out a can of Copenhagen.

“Cory, I know your dad, so what you hear, don’t repeat,” Gene said thumping the can. “So, they aren’t going to try and blame this on Josh?”

Buck looked up with a full mouth shaking his head. “No, if by some chance it was sabotage, they don’t want to be seen as vulnerable.”

“Buck, on the major networks, they are already saying it was a tragic accident that wouldn’t have happened if the local law enforcement had assisted,” Gene said getting a dip.

Buck looked up but wasn’t surprised. “They found a way to blame it on all of us.” Cory dropped his fork and it hit his plate with a clank. “Cory, you don’t hear anything, so why are you dropping your utensils?” Cory quickly snatched up his fork and started eating again as Buck turned to Gene.

“You know when they first reported that?”

Leaning over and spitting off the porch, Gene nodded, “Eleven o’clock.”

“The agents here don’t even know that,” Buck said grabbing his glass.

“Are you sure?” Gene asked studying Buck.

“Yes, I know a liar when I see them,” Buck said setting his glass down. “I’ve watched over a hundred bodies get loaded out and I lost track of the wounded Gene. To use this accident as a rally call to hunt down Josh is evil.”

“Buck, evil came up on that job site, and I know they were going to kill Josh right there. I saw it in their eyes Buck, and no one will ever be able to tell me otherwise.”

Grabbing a napkin, Buck wiped his mouth. “Gene, I do believe Joshua’s story and I’m trying to get this to stay here, but I’m fighting a mountain that won’t budge.”

“I know Buck, but I wanted to talk to you about something else,” Gene said leaning over and spitting. “You need to talk with certain people in this county about this situation. We don’t need it getting out of hand more than it already is.”

“They are only talk Gene,” Buck said picking up his fork.

“I believe some are, but others aren’t and this group, is one that I know isn’t talk. And I know for a fact, you don’t know about them nor does the federal boys. I’m here to protect Josh’s family and I don’t want the hornets’ nest kicked, stirring them up more than they are.” Gene said pulling a folded paper from his shirt pocket. “This isn’t all of them and I won’t tell you who else, but these are the leaders you need to talk to. The first name on the list for sure.”

Emptying his mouth, Buck looked over at him. “You’re that sure?”

“Buck, there was talk last night about boys moving around the county to start, but then this happened. Will they continue? I don’t know and don’t want to find out. But I want you to know. If it gets out of hand, your life could become….. Difficult, if you know what I mean.” Gene watched as Buck opened the paper and read the names.

With his eyes getting big, Buck gasped. “Gene, you haven’t left here, how could you know this?”

Laughing, Gene spit off the porch, “Buck, I can find out more than you any day of the week, and twice as much on Sunday.”

“I’ll get some of my deputies to stop by and chat with them,” Buck said.

“No Buck. You need to do this for that first group,” Gene said nodding to the paper. “The other groups, it would be okay. After what you did yesterday, anyone in the county will do what you ask.”

Leaning back, Buck nodded. “Okay, but would you be offended if I asked you to call me and let me know when things like this are talked about?”

“No, but I’m not calling your phone,” Gene chuckled. “That William showed me how they are tracking our cellphones. I sent one of the boys down to get us some of those disposable ones that William recommended.”

“So, if I get a phone like that, you wouldn’t be offended?”

“Nope,” Gene said spitting.

“Cory,” Buck said clearing his throat. “Go get my satchel from the SUV, please.”

Nodding, Cory got up and left as Gene leaned over. “You don’t think they will pin this on Joshua?”

“He didn’t do it,” Buck said snatching up his glass.

“Buck, you’re not the only one who can tell when someone’s lying.”

“God damn it Gene,” he whispered harshly. “He couldn’t have done it. You didn’t see the mass of bodies.” Leaning back, Gene spit and wiped his beard with his forearm still staring at Buck. “It doesn’t matter even if he admits it, they are whitewashing it. If they are reporting what you said, they will kill him. I’m praying he got a message telling him to lay low.”

“Buck, they kidnapped his boy. You really think Joshua is going to lay low over that?”

“I handled that,” Buck snapped.

“Yes, you did, and very nicely too,” Gene smiled. “But they still took his boy and they could do it again and this time, have a helicopter crash with William aboard.”

Staring at Gene’s eyes, Buck looked away, seeing Cory coming. “You think he did it,” Buck mumbled.

“I ain’t saying,” Gene replied as Cory came on the porch and handed Buck his satchel.

“Finish eating so we can go,” Buck said looking up at Cory. Throwing everything that was left on his plate onto a piece of bread, Cory started eating it while heading back to the SUV. Buck dug in his satchel and pulled out a flash drive.

Looking around, he laid it on the table. “Gene, if anything happens to me, make sure people see this. It’s not the only copy, but I need to make sure that more than one person has it,” Buck said leaving it on the table. “If I’m not around, it could be used as leverage.”

“Why me?”

“You’re not tied to me for one, they would never believe you had a copy. Second, I trust you,” Buck said standing up. “Whatever you do, don’t let William,” after stressing the name he paused, looking at Gene hard, “dig around in it because the information on there could get all of us killed if they knew. The feds just don’t know who has copies. I’m not worried about surveillance here now for obvious reasons. This is the only time I could hand it out, and they won’t know to whom.”

“I’ll do it,” Gene said swiping it off the table. “If you need it back, you’re going to have to give me a day to get it. I plan on hiding it rather well.”

Staring at Gene, Buck grinned. “I would be disappointed otherwise,” he said closing his satchel and getting up. “I’ll send the number to the phone I’m buying. I guess you’ve heard about certain words being used on the phone?”

“Yes, but get this, William showed us, if you spell out the word, the program doesn’t pick it up. It will only pick out the spoken word,” Gene laughed. “Poor Ben can barely spell his name, so he’s screwed.”

Buck laughed, stepping away from the table. “Since you’re here, I won’t talk to him, but keep Ben on a short leash and do what you can about Chris.”

Gene stood up nodding. “I will and as you can see, the others have taken jobs and are staying away in more crowded places.”

“Understandable, but I know that it hurt them to do it.”

“It did, and it hurt me to ask, but makes it easier for me. The others have families I don’t want near us if it goes downhill.”

Nodding, Buck walked down the stairs, “I’m praying we are at the bottom of the hill.”

“Then I hope the hill doesn’t bury us.”

Buck looked over his shoulder and headed to the SUV and jumped in. “What did he give you?” Ben asked, walking around the corner of the house.

“Grown up stuff that you wouldn’t understand,” Gene said spitting.

Ben walked over and tapped his arm. “Give me a dip.”

Reaching in his pocket, Gene handed over his can. “You don’t listen in on grown up conversations. Didn’t your momma teach you better?”

“Well, yeah, but I found out if I listened to her and dad talk, I knew when a spanking was coming and could run for it.”

Turning around and heading for the door, “Your mom and dad should’ve beat you daily,” Gene said.

“Where are you going?”

“To find William and get him to tell me what’s on this little plastic thing,” Gene sighed, grabbing the door.

Stepping over, Ben grabbed his arm. “Buck told you not to do that, it could be bad for us.”

“That’s what I mean, you don’t understand grown up conversations Ben,” Gene said opening the door. “You know, seeing Joshua grow up made me want a boy,” Gene sighed. “Then I would see you beside him and that would squash that thought.”

Sticking a huge dip in, Ben closed the can. “Damn it Gene!”

Gene turned around and looked at Ben. In all truth, Gene loved Ben and would be proud to have a son like him. He would be insane, but Gene would be proud of him. Ben was strong, intelligent when he wanted to be. But Ben’s outstanding feature, he was a buddy to his friends. He lived up to his promises to friends, others not so much. But Ben’s worst feature was he would act without thinking and that’s what drove Gene crazy. It was Gene who’d pushed Joshua to make Ben foreman.

In his heart, Gene hoped the responsibility would make Ben stop and think before he acted. In some ways it helped, in others it hadn’t. Gene was coming to understand that Ben was going to be Ben, no matter what. The one change he could tell was Barbara. If Gene would’ve known a woman would’ve changed Ben like that, he would’ve found one for the short, muscle bound, red goatee boy long ago. Hell, he knew he would’ve ordered Ben a mail-order bride.

“Ben, Buck gave us this as protection. A piece of leverage, if we needed it,” Gene said in a low voice.

“Shit,” Ben scoffed. “Buck would never step over the line of the law.”

“He hasn’t Ben,” Gene said letting the door close. “And to be honest, I don’t think he ever will. At least not as sheriff.”

“He gave you that,” Ben said pointing at Gene’s shirt pocket.

Gene sighed, “That’s what I mean. This is grown up stuff and you don’t understand.”

“Old man, I think I’m about to hit you.”

“You may be a young sprout compared to me, but I would really hate to have Barbara sew you up after I stomp a mud hole in your ass and walk it dry,” Gene said crossing his arms.

“God Damn it!” Ben grunted.

“Ben, he gave us this in case the feds go after him and he can’t protect us. That’s what he was saying. That’s why he gave it to me. I proved to him that I don’t want a war, but will fight and die here protecting Joshua’s family. I offered him an olive branch with the information about groups wanting to attack the feds,” Gene said.

“I didn’t hear that,” Ben said spitting off the porch.

Shaking his head, “That’s what I mean Ben, it was a grown up conversation. Grownups do that, hide their real meaning of what they’re saying so kids don’t understand.”

Reaching past Gene, Ben opened the door. “Just to warn you, when you’re using a walker, I’m going to kick it out from under you,” he said walking in.

“You’re going to feel funny about that when I get up and shove that walker up your ass,” Gene smirked.

Chapter Nineteen

It was 1630 when Joshua drove around downtown Spokane. He’d ridden the horse and mule hard to cover the twenty-four miles to the parked car Ben left for him. Near the parked car was an old farmstead that still had an old fence around ten acres. It had a small stream that ran under the fence and Joshua hid his gear in the woods.

He had little fear that anyone would take King and he had left King for a day out in the mountains when he’d trailed an elk before. King had just stood there and waited till he came back. The mule, Joshua wasn’t worried about anyone taking, his only concern was that the mule would get out and head home. But with King there, he should stay.

Seeing the building he was looking for, he drove past and saw the parking garage. Parking the BMW, Joshua got out and ran his hands down his khaki pants. “I hate urban camouflage,” he mumbled.

Walking around like a tourist, he walked past the parking garage and saw that it wasn’t manned by a guard, but he could see several cameras and an automatic gate to let cars in and out with a badge swipe. Looking away from the federal building, he took pictures of the building across the street then walked over.

Seeing a person walk out of the building across the street, he moved quickly but obviously to catch the door. Walking in, he saw it was an office building. Moving over to a directory on the wall and finding the name of a business in the building, he acted like he was still looking at it before heading to some chairs beside the window and sitting down.

Pulling out his camera, he turned it on, acting like he was flipping through pictures as he zoomed in to the parking garage across the street. On the right hand side, he saw the labeled parking spots for the big wigs and smiled, seeing the parking spot of who he was after, Larry Durrell, senior IRS agent.

“You have to love the internet,” he said getting up and leaving. He was sure William could find out where Larry Durrell lived and what he charged on his credit cards. Joshua had just pulled up the federal building’s website to find the most senior IRS agent and did, complete with picture.

Leaving the building, he walked on looking around, mainly up high and spotted a building half a mile away with a clear line of sight. “Okay, scouting is done for the day,” he said and headed back to the BMW.

He had the cash he’d taken from the safe, along with a stack of gold one ounce double eagles. With his wad of cash, he found a decent hotel and checked into his room, pulling out the computer William had given him. Pulling out a notebook, he made notes of where and what he needed to do and then left.

First, he stopped by a big box electronics store. Feeling out of place without William beside him, Joshua made a beeline right to the phones. Pulling out the phone William had given him, Joshua looked for one just like it. “Can I help you sir?” Joshua heard behind him and turned to see a boy not much older than William.

“Um, yeah,” Josh said looking around and coming up with a story fast. “My son made this phone so you couldn’t tell what websites I go to and I want spares.”

The boy grinned looking at the phone, “Galaxy,” the boy said, nodding. “May I?” he asked holding out his hand. Hesitantly, Joshua handed it over after putting in his passcode and watched the boy’s fingers fly over the screen, tapping it in a blur.

“Sir, your son is good,” he said tapping away and Joshua leaned over, gasping at seeing computer code on his screen. He didn’t know his phone had computer code that you could look at. “Okay, he used an android bot program with a roaming algorithm,” the boy said tapping faster and suddenly, the screen went back to the touch icons.

The boy handed it back and Joshua just stared at his phone in shock, wondering if this was some innate knowledge born into kids these days. “Um, it isn’t going to go back to that screen you were looking at without being told to, is it?” Joshua asked expecting his phone to blow up as fast as the boy had typed on it with his thumbs.

“No sir, I just opened up the program menu,” he laughed. “I don’t have the big screens in the prepaid, but I have the regular Galaxy.”

“Can it do what this one does?”

“Sure,” the boy said handing him a box. “If you want, I can show you how to tell your phone to tell the one that you buy to do it.”

“I’ll take three,” Joshua said still holding his phone out.

The boy grabbed two more and looked at Joshua. “There is a one-month card in the box, you need more?”

“Five,” Joshua said confidently. He had learned how to add minutes with the card. William had shown him after Joshua had cussed a non-English speaking person out because his phone wouldn’t take the numbers he’d been putting in.

The boy grabbed them and grinned at Joshua. “Tell your son that is a great program, but don’t let others know he hacked it. You could get him in trouble. Need anything else?”

“I found a website that shows women with huge boobs,” Joshua winked. “I don’t want the other half to know. But yeah, a printer that I can take with me on the road that doesn’t weigh five hundred pounds.”

“You want to see big hooters? Do a search for ‘Milk Mommas’, you will see some hooters,” the boy grinned. He grabbed a tiny printer that wasn’t much wider than a piece of paper with some ink cartridges and led Joshua to the register. After checking out, the boy stepped over to a counter taking Joshua’s phone. Connecting to one of the new ones with a cable, he showed Joshua how to load the program to the other one. But didn’t actually hit the command to transfer the program, the boy said he would get in trouble with the store if he did. Looking at the kid, Joshua knew the kid had done it before and much more he could get in trouble for.

Copying what the boy had shown him, Joshua did it but still didn’t know what he’d done. “So, it’s like the one he made me?” Joshua said looking at the phone he’d just hooked up.

“Yes, when you cruise the net, it grabs a random IP with ghost backup interface and uses it and shuffles from multiple servers to erase any digital footprints. From the program, I’m surprised your son was able to maintain unity because the program finds multiple VPNs and uses them simultaneously,” the boy said and Joshua looked over at him like he’d spoken Martian. “It will hide you, so nobody knows you are looking at hooters,” the boy said grinning.

Smiling with relief, Joshua pulled a hundred out of his pocket, palming it in his hand. “I know you can’t take this but I want you to have it. I’m going to look up ‘Milk Mommas’ tonight.”

“If you need anything else, just ask for Hank,” he said stuffing the money in his pocket. “Thanks for buying so many. It broke my quota for the next month.”

“No, thank you Hank,” Joshua said gathering his stuff up and leaving. The next stop was an office store and then he went to a big chain home improvement store. Coming out with several bags, he headed back to the hotel. He wrote two letters, then went to several websites and found out about the explosion. The government was calling it a terrible accident and said it could’ve been avoided with more cooperation from the local law enforcement and population. That even the governor of the state wasn’t cooperating with the wishes and demands of the federal government to apprehend a federal fugitive that had killed two agents and a state trooper in cold blood.

“Their blood wasn’t cold till it hit the snow,” Joshua mumbled and then went to his favorite alternative news site. He didn’t understand why they hadn’t posted the video and wondered if they weren’t really separated from the mainstream media.

What Joshua didn’t understand, unlike the mega media stations, small news sites only had a few full time employees and received thousands of e-mails a day with hundreds of videos. It usually fell to two or three people to sort through the mass of messages. If Joshua had read the fine print at the bottom of the message screen, he would’ve known this.

“We’ll wait and see,” he said grabbing an envelope and putting a small SD card in that he had loaded with both videos, along with a letter to an email account he’d just set up. No matter what William said, Joshua didn’t think he should email a site with an account he’d just set up to talk to them in the future.

Again, if William were with him, he would probably do it, but knowing that he only knew enough about computers to get in trouble, Joshua played it safe and would send it by real mail. He looked at the second letter, smiled and folded it up, placing it in an envelope. Grabbing the small printer, Joshua read the directions, then hooked it to the laptop.

Going to a satellite service site, he pulled out a disposable credit card and bought a thirty-day account. He printed out several images of Spokane and the area he was working from. He knew the area and had the cool map, but he had devious ideas and plans ahead.

“Like blowing up the Elk Lodge wasn’t devious,” he mumbled.

He ordered pizza and a bottle of Mountain Dew, since he was in an urban combat zone trying to fit in. As he waited, he searched the want ads and made a list of stops tomorrow. After his food, Joshua checked his pistol and drifted off to sleep.

When the alarm went off at 0300, he got up and packed up everything and loaded the BMW. He drove downtown and parked at the building he’d seen that would give him a clear line of sight to his target on the other side of the river.

Glancing around again and still not seeing any cameras or people, he moved to the fire escape and jumped up to catch the ladder and pulled himself up. Scurrying up the ladder quickly and quietly, he took off his little backpack and pulled out his spotting scope and rangefinder.

Setting up the scope on an air conditioning unit, he looked over at the federal building and zoomed in. He could see Larry’s parking spot rather well. Pulling up the range finder, he saw it was a little over half a mile. “Shit, that’s point blank for the Lapua,” he said putting the range finder back.

Seeing it was only 0350, he pulled out some tools he’d bought and walked over to the roof door. Using a voltage detection pen, he moved it around the door to find where the alarm was. Pulling out the strips of metal he’d cut, Joshua wiggled them in the crack of the door. Then he pulled out tiny screwdrivers and thin metal shims he had filed to make some lock picks. He was sorry to say, Ben had shown him this in his own shop, showing Joshua just how easy it was to break into a building.

Just to prove his point, Ben had shown him on several other buildings as well. But all of those buildings had alarms. “Locks are only for honest people boss,” Ben had chuckled. “And alarms are only to make people feel safer. You want to be safe, have a gun on your body.”

Gathering up his stuff, in case he hadn’t learned from Ben well enough, Joshua shimmed the lock and picked it. Feeling the lock turn, he held the knob and put his backpack on, just in case he had to make a quick getaway. Taking a deep breath, he cracked the door open and sighed with relief. “Guess I learned something from Ben,” he said opening the door. Reaching up, securing the strip over the contact, he made sure the door was unlocked before he closed it.

Moving back to his spot, he pulled out his spotting scope, setting it back up and waited. While he waited, he pulled out his notepad and continued outlining the plans of attack till the sun started peeking over the horizon. Putting his notepad away, he watched the parking garage.

Before 0700 cars started showing up, pulling into the garage as he watched through the scope. When he saw a car pull into the spot he was watching, Joshua glanced at his watch. “0724, not bad for a government paid henchman,” he mumbled and he saw Agent Durrell get out of his Lexus. He watched the man put on his suit jacket and smiled, thinking that the picture on the website had been taken very recently.

When Durrell headed into the connecting pedestrian tunnel, Joshua packed up and left using the door he’d unlocked. Moving down the stairs rapidly, he looked at his watch as he reached the ground floor. “Need to put stairs on the logging sites, I can move up and down the mountains faster,” he grinned and looked out into the lobby to see that it was a big open reception area.

Seeing a camera aimed at the door, he moved over and under it, grabbing a cap and putting it on before pulling up the collar of his jacket and walking out. Satisfied the camera had only caught the back of him, Joshua headed for the car.

His first stop was the Goodwill store and he bought clothes he would normally wear, complete with work boots. Then he bought several different outfits and shoes. Satisfied, he left and found a women’s supply salon. The woman behind the counter smiled when he bought two black wigs and some hair dye.

Just outside of town he pulled into the lot of a trapping supply store and walked in. He had some traps but needed more, and not just for survival. Traps worked twenty-four-seven after they were set, but Joshua preferred snares. They were easier to set and didn’t snap at you when you messed up setting them. He couldn’t find any Duke 0430 traps but found the Conibear 330 which was just a little smaller. Grabbing a dozen, he walked around grabbing a few more items, paid, and then left.

The next stop was a sporting goods store. He bought a canvas gun case that looked like a guitar case. As he was looking around, he saw boxes of the match grade .338 Lapua he shot and grabbed them, since he wouldn’t be using his reloading kit at home anytime soon. Granted, he had several hundred rounds at the dugout but more never hurt anybody and at ten dollars a shell, the feds should feel privileged he was shooting them with it. A part of him felt they should send him a thank you card for the thought.

Grabbing a few more items, he left and stopped at a private mail store. He sent the envelopes and left to find another hotel nearby. It took two hotels till he got one with a room on the ground floor that he could park beside. He didn’t want to be seen hauling shit up and down the stairs. It wasn’t a top of the line hotel, which was exactly what Joshua wanted. Looking at the cars around the lot, he saw an old beat up van and walked over to it, dropping two credit cards and the license that belonged to one of the state troopers.

Then he went into the small bar at the hotel and found what he thought would be there; shadier citizens. He went straight to the bathroom and laid the other troopers credit cards and license beside a toilet and left for his room. Walking out of the bar, he saw the van was gone but so were the credit cards. Moving the stuff from the BMW to the room, he closed the blinds.

Setting up his laptop first, he checked the news and the site still hadn’t posted the video. On every major news site, the BATF announced that the explosion was from a generator being too close to the fuel tanks. The Homeland Director had issued a memo outlining safety at all government facilities to make sure it never happened again.

“Set up another one like that close to home and we’ll see,” Joshua said shaking his head.  Scrolling down, he paused upon seeing the death toll so far was over three hundred with more wounded, but the total was expected to rise. “Yeah, see what happens when you mess with the family? This Joshua doesn’t blow horns to make walls fall down, he blows them up.”

Sitting at the little table, Joshua continued writing and refining what he planned to do and how to do it.

***

When Joshua was buying clothes at Goodwill, Agent Griffey was stepping out of a limo at the White House. Following a Secret Service agent, after having his briefcase scanned, Griffey was led to one of the conference rooms and told to wait. He sat down and opened his briefcase, pulling out his notes and folders.

Ten minutes later, the President, Homeland Director and the Speaker of the House walked in, and Griffey jumped out of his chair to stand, as the three walked to the other end of the table. After they’d sat down, he took his seat again.

“Agent Griffey, what the hell is going on out there?” the Director asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Sir, it was an unfortunate event, but we will catch Mr. Anderson. The terrain and the remoteness presents many problems. We are talking over a million acres sir, with very little road access. The teams have to climb up on mountain tops just to radio or use a satellite phone.”

The Speaker leaned over the table. “Have you been watching the internet? They are making this Joshua out to be some kind of savior to fight against the evil of Washington. We can only control the mainstream media for so long and they will be forced to report it.”

“Mr. Speaker, I assure you, we are moving with all haste, but unlike others we’ve faced before, Mr. Anderson isn’t holed up in a cabin or barn. We will get him, I assure you.”

The Director shook his head. “Agent Griffey, if Mr. Anderson leaves Idaho in custody and alive, you will be lucky to get a job flipping burgers. We can’t be seen as ‘taking from the working class’. The IRS has gone through a lot of trouble to seize the assets that our agencies have targeted.”

“Understood sir, and I’ve informed my agents in the field. I have at minimum, two Homeland agents on every team.”

“So, care to explain why you are here and not at a press conference, telling America how he died in a shootout with us?” the Director asked.

“Sir, Agent Moore…” Griffey stopped as the Speaker slapped the table.

“Agent Griffey, choose your words carefully here. Agent Moore is highly decorated. He’s had movies made about some of his captures. Trying to place any blame on him will be detrimental to you.”

“Mr. Speaker, I was going to say Agent Moore provided me with assessments of how to improve our teams’ functions in the field. We were implementing them when the tragedy struck. I’m certain if we would’ve been able to implement these recommendations, we would’ve seen some strong results,” Griffey said, trying to remain calm because that was definitely not what he’d been about to say.

The Speaker rifled through some papers and held one up. “Were those recommendations about increasing team size, training them in basic mountain survival, learning how to operate long range radios… Stuff like that?”

“Yes Mr. Speaker.”

“In my report, these recommendations from Agent Moore were made before he ever landed and yet, you waited over a week before even attempting to implement them. If you thought so much of them, why didn’t you implement them sooner?”

“In my haste, I thought with enough manpower, we could sight the suspect and corner him. I highly underestimated the terrain and the training needed to operate in it.”

With a slight nod, the Speaker grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Yes, I can see how you’ve risen through the ranks so fast. You downplay your failures with eagerness and zeal, but accept responsibility. Let me fill you in, Agent Griffey. Civil asset forfeiture has grown out of the billions son. It’s become a viable revenue for this great country. We can’t have people thinking they can fight us when we take their money and possessions so our country can prosper.”

“I understand completely, Mr. Speaker.”

“These last three years your team alone has brought this country almost seven hundred billion dollars. That’s great work for your country, son, but letting the masses see one of their own fight back and though he’s not winning, he is fighting back and that can’t be tolerated.”

“Agent Griffey,” the President said, leaning back and swiveling his chair slightly side to side.

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“How come I signed a presidential order to secure the suspect’s child, to assure his safety from his father, and this child isn’t in our possession? You think a sheriff in Idaho supersedes my order?”

“Mr. President, Sheriff Harper arrived at our command area with over a hundred armed people and had another hundred coming across the lake to hit us in the back, unless we turned the child over to him. I refused, as my order instructed, and Sheriff Harper ordered his men to spread out and prepare to fire. His instructions were to kill every federal personnel on site and secure the child of Mr. Anderson. Agent Moore intervened and ordered our men to stand down and return Mr. Anderson’s child to the sheriff. In Agent Moore’s defense, he didn’t know of the order as I was instructed and later stated we would be fighting the entire region if the sheriff had opened fire.”

The President slapped the table, looking at the Speaker. “I told you, these sheriffs have too much power in their counties. How can they justify not following federal authorities?”

“I know Mr. President,” the Speaker said solemnly. “Agent Griffey, how do you plan to solve this problem?”

“I’ve made a report Mr. Speaker,” Griffey said taking several stacks of paper out and carrying them to the end of the table. “I’m relocating my command area to a Forestry Service airfield south of the town of Nordman. I want to isolate my command and operating area from the locals. Though we haven’t proved it, we think they are providing Mr. Anderson with information on our movements-,”

“How? You have the phones and radio monitored?” the Director asked, reading the report.

“Word of mouth sir,” Griffey said looking at his own report. “Like I’ve said, we haven’t proved it and we’re working on it, but the information we had built up is gone now and we will have to start over. Likewise, Agent Moore was working on refining his profile and narrowing the search area and as you know, his top aide, Agent Kellogg was murdered. All that work will have to be repeated also, as it was destroyed in the blast. Agent Winters should be there by now and Agent Moore says she is as good if not better than him.”

Reading the report, the Director shook his head. “So, you need two more weeks to get set up again?”

“For full operations sir. I’ve got twenty teams now out in the field. From Moore’s recommendation, most are ten man teams. They will keep the search going, but until those two projects are complete and I have my full complement of agents in the field, I have little hope that they will actually spot Mr. Anderson. But I feel it’s important to the people that they see we don’t stop, even in adversity.”

“I like that part,” the President chuckled. “That should send a message to others until you capture him.”

“Yes Mr. President. I want to show that we will never stop.”

“Agent Griffey, in your recommendations, you are asking for those civilians whose houses were destroyed to have us force their insurance companies to rush payment and also provide them housing until this is over and they can rebuild,” the Director said reading, then looked up. “Why should we take the trouble?”

“Sir, the population is actively resisting. If I can just make them neutral, it would make my job a lot easier and I can be done that much faster. I’ve provided a copy of the letter from Sheriff Harper in that report that explicitly states; if any agent ventures on private land without consent or a warrant to do so, they will be held accountable. Further, he states that if the owner of the land is forced, harmed or fired on and returns fire, his deputies will respond to assist the landowner. He concludes by saying they will figure out what went wrong as they stack up federal agents’ bodies.”

The Director glanced at the President, “We need to remove this man.”

“Director, I would highly advise against that right now,” Griffey said. “As Agent Moore pointed out to me, even if the sheriff had a genuine accident causing his death, we would be fighting the populace. We would have a thousand Mr. Andersons running around in the mountains.”

“I agree,” the Speaker said, reading the report. “You want two thousand federal agents to do this search?”

“Using Agent Moore’s recommendations, that would be the minimum to field ten man teams. Remember, a thousand alone would be used in support. We don’t have the local law enforcement that usually fills those roles.”

The President held up a sheet of paper. “Yes, the governor of Idaho had this hand delivered to me yesterday. He refuses to mobilize the National Guard and if I federalize them, he announced publicly that he would issue blanket pardons for any that refused to mobilize. The attorney general has confirmed he can do this and the soldiers can’t be prosecuted.”

“We need to change that,” the Speaker said, looking up from the report. “I’ll talk to the security council.”

“Sir, if I may,” Agent Griffey said clearing his throat and the President nodded. “I don’t want any local help that isn’t in a federal department. I understand Agent Moore’s thoughts on this, but they have shown time and time again to only hinder our progress. I suggest we take care of this from the top.”

The President looked at the Director. “What do you think?”

“I’m going to have to agree with Agent Griffey. I’ve read the daily reports from the supervisors and they all said just about the same thing that he just did.”

“Give him what he needs,” the President nodded, and Griffey felt all tingly inside.

“Hold on Mr. President,” the speaker said raising a hand and the tingles left. “Griffey, you had over fourteen hundred agents and from the latest reports, you’ve lost over forty percent and I have a feeling when the body count and wounded are tallied up, the two hundred and seventy some odd agents who are actively working now will be the extent of what’s left,” he said leaning back. “And you think that just increasing this by a few hundred more to start over will actually yield results?”

“Mr. Speaker, I know what this exercise costs and have the projected daily figures with the new request and I brought that into account as I made the report.”

“Yes, I saw, and you’re not getting what I told you earlier. Civil asset forfeiture nets us almost a sixty billion a year and is growing very fast, yet your projected cost is only two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a day to run this operation. You really think it’s not worth investing a little more to protect that revenue?”

“Sir, I’m an agent and have always been instructed to monitor Washington’s money, and I have done so to the best of my abilities.”

“Agent Griffey, think. With the money we get from civil asset forfeiture we could fund your search for Mr. Anderson for six million years with a daily cost of a quarter of a million dollars. Don’t you think we need to invest a little more in protecting this valuable revenue, so others don’t get the same idea and we end up spending that on ten search areas?”

The Director glanced over at the Speaker, “We can’t use troops on our own soil, even for a lone wolf, the backlash would escalate dramatically,” he said in a low voice.

“Director, we have more than a hundred and fifty thousand federal agents who are licensed to carry firearms and make arrests. That’s not including the State Department with their tremendous assets. You have double that in paper pushers that you could use to support those in the field.”

“I’m very aware of the numbers sir,” the Director said curtly.

“If we can’t solve this with those numbers alone, against one man, people with deep pockets will replace us with others who can,” the Speaker said and looked at the President, giving a slight nod.

Leaning over the table looking at Griffey, the President lowered his voice. “Agent Griffey, you will draw up a new proposal to accommodate four thousand personnel for this task force. I expect to see the rough draft in ten hours.”

“Mr. President!” Griffey gasped, feeling terrified and thrilled at the same time. “Just setting up the infrastructure to house, feed and support a task force that size will take a month. Homeland, the Justice Department, FBI and other agencies only have so many that can set up a command area. I would have to use most of the manpower just to carve out a place to set up.”

The President looked at the Speaker, who nodded and turned to Griffey. “When we get your report in ten hours outlining the operations area, the Corp of Engineers will move in and start setting it up tomorrow morning. I assure you, they will be done before your new agents arrive. They may operate in that function and will depart when they are done.”

“If I may take my leave sirs. I need to start immediately,” Griffey said gathering papers and looking up.

“We expect results,” the President said.

Griffey paused in gathering his papers. “With this, I can guarantee them.”

“Agent Griffey, do you know Homeland Senior Agent Benjamin Wagner?” the Speaker asked and the papers fell from Griffey’s hand.

“Yes sir,” he swallowed hard. “I’ve worked with Agent Wagner before.”

“Yes, he’s a snake, but he knows how to accomplish a task, much like yourself,” the Speaker chuckled.

The Director grinned. “I’m assigning him to replace Burrows. The FBI is furious, but we need someone who can play ball.”

“Sirs, why not move Agent Moore to second in command?” Griffey almost begged. Where he was a zealot in his job and duties, Wagner was beyond a fanatic.

“Agent Moore has his uses, but as I’m sure you’ve found out by now, he will hold back from worrying about consequences that could be handled later,” the Speaker said. “Don’t let that confuse you that he isn’t listened to around here. He’s captured more serial killers than any other law officer in the country, not to mention terrorists. Use his strengths, but don’t try to make him the fall guy for your failures.”

Griffey’s eyes grew wide staring at the Speaker, and the Speaker smiled. “I see you understand now,” the Speaker said. “He’s untouchable while you and the others aren’t. Unless you’re an idiot, you’ll see that Moore is excellent in finding, capturing and sometimes, eliminating violent suspects. He’s too well known, liked and intelligent to be caught up taking the fall for a mistake. As third in command, he is far enough away from the top to not be hurt if it goes bad, but close enough to the top to receive praise as a key element when this ends in a job well done.”

Slowly closing his eyes as he nodded, “I understand Mr. Speaker,” Griffey said.

“Any other questions Agent Griffey?” the Director asked, scooping up the papers in front of him.

“Yes sir. Has Agent Wagner been notified that I’m in charge and no actions are to be taken without my approval?”

The Director laid his papers down and looked at Griffey. “Yes, he’s been informed that if he attempts another stunt like Miami, he will be shot in a dark room and buried in the desert. I informed him personally.”

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Griffey gathered his papers. “Then we are good, sir. I’ll have my preliminary report outlined and in your hands in ten hours. The completed report, I’m requesting another ten hours to go over the details with my team.”

“You have twenty,” the President said. “When will you be able to resume full operations?”

“Sir, I would like to bring the personnel in as groups that can be trained before putting them in the field. Space and instructors will be an issue, but with a hundred field agents arriving every three days when the command area is ready, we can be up to full operation in thirty days.”

“It’s unavoidable, but I see no other choice,” the Director said, looking at the President and Speaker. “Agent Griffey, make sure you keep a tight lid on leaks. We don’t need the public finding out anything that we don’t want them to know.”

“Yes sir,” Griffey said, stuffing papers and folders in his briefcase.

“Agent Griffey, I would like you to give a message to Agent Moore from me,” the Speaker said staring at him with a grave expression. Griffey nodded with a smile. “Tell Agent Moore to quit writing letters asking to pull back and not escalate any further. Tell him he’s invaluable but not irreplaceable, so stop avoiding his chain of command. We will not show weakness here!” he finished by slapping the table.

Standing up straight, “I will relay your message Mr. Speaker,” Griffey said obediently. The three sat quietly as Griffey picked up his briefcase and with a nod, left.

“So, how long till you think he can get this wrapped up?” the President asked looking at the Director.

“He should start getting results a few weeks after getting up to full strength.”

“You will be keeping a close watch on this, won’t you?” the President asked getting up. “Unlike taxes, we can spend the seized assets as we wish.”

“I get briefings twice a day Mr. President. Would you like me to update you daily?”

“No, weekly is fine unless there are problems,” he said waving his arm. “I’m off for another briefing,” he grinned and headed for the door.

When he was gone, the Speaker stood up. “You make sure Wagner is under control. I’m not in the mood for another Miami. We need his passion and loyalty, but tell him his anger is going to get him killed, and I’m not talking about in the field.”

“I had a two-hour conversation with him yesterday, Mr. Speaker. I informed him that if he loses control, I’ll be the one pulling the trigger while he is bent over.”

Nodding as he grabbed his papers, “Hands on, I like it,” the Speaker grinned. “I would like daily briefings. I’ll tell my staff to arrange a time.”

“Very good, sir,” the Director said.

“This got out of hand too fast. Those first agents pushed too hard and didn’t have the balls to pull the trigger. You tell your people, that won’t be tolerated in the future. I’ll pass a resolution that will withhold all death benefits for improper action in the field.”

The Director nodded and followed him out. “I’ve already done that, sir. People have slowly learned not to fight us because it’s useless and they will fail. Now, it’s time to show them to just bow when we show up.”

Chapter Twenty

It was 0300 the next morning when Joshua walked past the main entrance of the building he was going to use. Not seeing any security inside, he made the block and pulled out his lock picks. After practicing yesterday on several other buildings, he was much faster. When he’d left yesterday, he’d noticed that the front doors didn’t have an alarm. Concerned about that, he’d waited around till the building had closed and saw it had two security guards.

Staying on the street, he saw they locked the door and moved out of the lobby to a small office in the back. Both were young kids and weren’t even armed. Joshua had been in business long enough to know they were hired to lower the insurance premium.

Adjusting the wig on his head and the other on his face, Joshua walked back by the door and still didn’t see them. Pulling out his lock picks, holding them like he would keys, he stuck them in the lock. Fighting the urge to look up into the lobby to see if he had been discovered, Joshua concentrated on the lock and sighed when he felt it turn. In less than one minute, he was inside and closing the door behind him, turning the bolt back to lock it.

Moving on to the back of the lobby, he pulled out his 1911 with his suppressor on. He knew that even if the kids pulled a gun he wouldn’t shoot, but he wanted to make sure they were indisposed. Easing up to the door he’d seen them walk in, he found it cracked and music was playing inside rather loudly.

Peeking around the door, he saw one in a chair with monitors in front of him, showing different camera views around the building. The kid’s head was laid back as he snored. Barely moving the door, Joshua peeked in further to see the other sprawled out on a couch, sound asleep with an alarm clock on the floor beside him.

Looking back at the monitors, Joshua saw the only one he had to worry about was the one in the lobby. Slowly stepping back and leaving the door cracked, Joshua headed for the stairs. Taking the stairs two at a time, he had to stop on the fifth floor to catch his breath. “Not a race, I have time,” he muttered and slowly walked up the rest of the stairs till he reached the roof.

Happy to see his shim was still over the alarm, he walked out onto the roof to his sniper spot. Taking the guitar case off his back, he unzipped it and pulled out his Lapua. Popping the bi-pod out, he set it on the air conditioner and fished out the suppressor, screwing it on.

He pulled out a large, tan, thin blanket and covered the Lapua. Taking off the wig that he had adjusted to form a beard, he looked at it and was rather proud of himself. Never in his life had he dyed his hair, much less worn a wig. But for it to pass as his beard, he’d needed some gray in it and the wig he wore on his head. With the internet and a pair of scissors he’d gone to work. It never ceased to amaze him what you could learn off the internet.

Granted, up close he wouldn’t fool anyone, but he only wanted to fool the cameras. When he left, he would be looking down till he circled the block and would lose the ‘beard’. The clothes he wore now had come from the Goodwill and looked like the clothes he normally wore on a logging site. Even in Spokane, seeing a working man wasn’t that uncommon, so he felt he could exit the building without drawing too much attention.

The blanket was to give him some cover. A few of the buildings around looked down on the one he was on and he didn’t want someone looking out a window in the early morning hours and seeing a man with a rifle.

Pulling out his range finder, he rechecked the range and dialed in his scope then, he looked around for wind markers. In the woods this had been easy, as he quickly learned it sucked to do this in an urban environment. He found a small flag in front of a building barely moving and a small tree in front of the parking garage and the leaves weren’t moving.

Satisfied, he pulled out another small digital camera with a short cable. He plugged the cable into his scope and turned on the camera. When the screen came on, it showed a view through his scope. Several years ago when he’d bought the scope, the man had told him he could upgrade to this one and could record his shots. Since he was already spending two grand, Joshua went ahead and spent a few hundred more for the upgrade, never believing he would use it.

Joshua soon found out that he loved it. He could film as he practiced shooting and spot his mistakes fast and correct them. What he’d really loved was when he had filmed his hunts and kills, but could show others animals that he hadn’t shot, even though he had them in the crosshairs. Now, he was ecstatic about the function. With the camera he’d kept with him, Joshua was sure it could do it but didn’t know how. So he’d bought one just like the one he had at home, that he’d left, and used it for recording from the scope.

Reaching down to the case, he pulled up a scrench like the one he’d left on the dock. Pulling off his right glove, he pressed his thumb on the T-handle, making sure it left a print. Setting it down and putting his glove on, he grabbed the scrench and pushed it into the thin metal of the air conditioner. He grinned at seeing it sticking straight up.

Lifting the blanket up and moving underneath it, he made adjustments till he was comfortable and then waited. This was one thing that Joshua did very well. All of his activities that he’d done over the years, from three gun, black powder shoots, skeet shooting, mountain climbing and many others, Joshua would throw himself into them and get good at them. But they never held his attention for more than a few years and he would eventually move to something else.

The exception was hunting. He had done it all his life and loved it. He could sit for hours, not moving and watch the wildlife move around him. It relaxed him, and his body had grown accustomed to it.

When the first cars started showing up at the parking garage, Joshua reached down, turning on the camera. Glancing down and seeing the screen turn on, he pushed record. Since the camera only recorded in thirty minutes at a time, he had to repress the record as he continued watching the cars slowly pull in.

Seeing a gray Lexus coming, he glanced at the camera and saw it was about to shut off. He pushed stop and then record again to reset the timer and looked through his scope, reaching up and pulling the bolt back to rack a shell. As he gripped the rifle, the Lexus pulled up to the cross gate and the driver’s window rolled down as a hand came out to scan a badge and Joshua could clearly see his target.

As the gate rose, Durrell drove through and turned to his parking spot right at the front. Taking a deep breath, Joshua moved his crosshairs to the flag and then the tree, not seeing any change in wind. Moving the crosshairs to the Lexus, Joshua let out half his breath, seeing the driver’s door open.

When Durrell stepped out, he put the crosshairs center mass and his finger dropped to the trigger, slowly depressing it back. The rifle bucked, startling him like it should and he held the crosshairs on his target. Unlike the movies, targets didn’t fly back when hit but they did move, because getting shot hurt.

Less than a second after Joshua had pulled the trigger, eight hundred and twenty-five yards away, Durrell dropped down falling back and grabbing his chest. Reaching down and hitting stop on the camera, Joshua slid back, pulling the blanket with him to the rooftop.

Laying the Lapua down, he unscrewed the suppressor and stuffed it in the case, then folded the bi-pod and strapped the Lapua inside the case. Tossing the camera in, he bunched the blanket up into a ball and stuffed it in. Grabbing his beard and putting it on, he closed the case then looked around to see only the scrench sticking up on the air conditioner.

Putting the case on his back, Joshua headed for the door. Nonchalantly walking down, he fought against the desire to run. Reaching the lobby, he opened the door to see the receptionist sitting behind the desk and talking to people. In a casual walk, he headed for the door while looking down.

Stepping outside, he cast a glance down the street toward the federal building, but didn’t see activity and walked away. Rounding the block, he reached up like he was rubbing his face and stuffed the ‘beard’ inside his jacket.

Walking the several blocks to his BMW, he smiled and nodded at several people. Pulling out his keys, he tossed his case in the backseat and hopped in. Seeing it was clear, he pulled out heading out of the city.

Eight hundred yards away as Joshua stepped out of the building and coworkers that were driving in stopped and gathered around, IRS agent Larry Durrell died while one of the others was calling 911. In the ten minutes it took for police and the ambulance to show, Joshua was six miles north, heading back to his killing ground.

***

At the new command center at the Forestry Service airfield, Agent Moore was sitting with his mouth hanging open, staring at Griffey. “Wagner is an animal, what did they bring him in for?” Moore shouted.

Taking over the largest office in the buildings already there, Griffey shook his head. “I don’t know, but he will be here this afternoon.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall and seeing it was just after 0800, Moore turned to Griffey. “If Wagner pulls his shit here, we will have a full scale war. Killing a suspect in federal custody while they are handcuffed is really hard to explain. Can we call the airplane and tell them to divert?”

“I wish,” Griffey said leaning back in his chair. “Don’t forget about the three that died in that ‘gun fight’,” he quoted in the air. “Before he took the suspect into custody, first responders reported two cheap pistols, but the crime scene guys found three AKs, Uzi and a Barret fifty along with enough ammunition to start a small war. The man has no style and bulls his way through.”

“Griffey, this isn’t Miami. You and I won’t make it out of here alive if he pulls shit like that. The population around here will just start shooting. I’m not talking about a city riot, I’m talking about a state riot.”

“I know Moore,” Griffey sighed as a knock sounded at his door. “Come,” he huffed out.

A woman entered and headed straight to Agent Moore, “Sir,” she said holding out a folder.

Not wanting to touch the manila folder, Moore took it groaning. He opened it and his body jerked upright. He flipped two pages up reading, then looked at the woman. “Agent Winters, how accurate is this?”

“I ran it four times sir,” she said with no emotion.

“Tell everyone who knows to keep their mouth shut, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said turning around and walking out.

“What?” Griffey said standing up and Moore tossed the folder on his desk.

“The prints for the scene at Agent Kellogg’s murder belong to two Idaho State Troopers. Not just any troopers, they were on team eighty-one,” Moore said getting up and pacing.

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Griffey bellowed, snatching up the folder. Reading the report, Griffey looked up at Moore pacing. “Well, I guess it’s safe to say we can stop trying to rescue team eighty-one and call it a search for bodies.”

“Sir, be careful with how you handle this. He was my friend and I don’t want to see this get out of hand. Issue an APB and notify the state police that they are wanted for questioning in the death of a federal agent and the disappearance of three others,” Moore said.

“I’m forwarding this to Washington to justify my request to not have any more locals on the task force,” Griffey said snatching up the phone. “What?” he asked seeing Moore still pacing.

“The scene didn’t feel like a cop,” Moore said looking at the floor as he paced. “I’ve investigated rogue cops but the scene felt, malicious. Cops leave a scene that feels blank with little evidence.”

Hanging up the phone, Griffey lifted the folder up. “They only found seven viable prints and in the report, it states the scene appeared wiped down as if sanitized. No hair, cloth or unexplained fibers were found, that seems pretty blank to me.”

Feeling tired, Moore nodded. “You’re right, I’m overthinking it.” Stunned that Moore had said that he was right, Griffey was left speechless. “Notify Washington, but please don’t start a war. You and I are going to have our hands full just keeping Wagner reigned in.”

Nodding, Griffey picked the phone back up and dialed. “His office will be between yours and mine. He isn’t to leave unless one of us is notified. When he tells me, I’ll call you and you do the same.”

Moore nodded, “I need some fresh air.” Griffey just waved as he walked out. Navigating the hall till he reached the door, Moore shoved it open stepping outside. The roar of heavy machinery resonated around him. Off to his left, a dozer was clearing twenty acres that sat next to a ten-acre field. In the field, engineers were erecting troop tents as another crew was erecting a chain-link fence that would surround the thirty acres.

In the parking lot behind the building, a huge prefabricated building that the military had used was being set up for the command area and this entire twenty acres would also be surrounded by chain-link fence. Inside the building they were in, they were doing their best to keep in touch with the teams out now, but had lost all of their radio gear.

Now, all contact was being maintained by satellite phones which were spotty at best. He looked up, seeing the weather forecast was right, clouds increasing through the day with chances of rain for the next three days.

Hearing the door open behind him, Moore turned to see Winters walking out. “Sir, it just came in, IRS agent Larry Durrell was shot and killed in Spokane at 0718 this morning with a high powered rifle.”

Looking away back to the mountains in the distance, “I knew I should’ve retired and not gone for the full thirty,” he groaned. Slowly turning around, he followed Winters back inside.

***

Standing in the front yard, Gene was looking out over the guys who had volunteered to help watch over Sonya and William. “Old man, all you do is stand around thinking,” Ben said, walking up beside him. “Let me get a dip,” he said holding out his hand.

“I saw you with a new can last night,” Gene said pulling out his can.

“Well, Barbara took it away,” Ben said grabbing it and thumping his finger against the top. “Fewer and fewer each day,” Ben said looking at the volunteers.

“That’s what I was telling you. We can only count on us to protect Sonya and William,” Gene said taking his can back. “The ones that showed up just wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves for just a little while. When this started we had fifty, now it’s ten, plus us.”

“Well, why did you ask the crew to vamoose? We both know they would’ve fought.”

“They have families that I didn’t want here,” Gene said glancing at Ben. “I knew it would do no good to try and pressure you, but you do have a family that you need to think about.”

“I did think about it, that’s why they are here,” Ben said. “It would be a cold day in hell before I ever turned my back on Josh.”

“Ben, if your family got hurt protecting his, that would kill him.”

“No, Gene. Barbara and Sammy will be standing beside Sonya and William defending this house. Josh would respect that.”

With a snort, Gene pulled his can back out, “Sometimes you impress me,” he said thumping the can. “But I’m glad you stayed, if for nothing else but comic relief.”

Shaking his head, Ben waved a hand out at the ones still there. “How many do you think will keep coming back?”

“Out of those left, only five or so will be committed enough to stay on because they gave their word,” Gene said putting his can back in his pocket.

“Do you two ever do anything?” Chris said, walking around the corner of the house.

They both turned and Gene shook his head. Chris looked like a walking bush wearing a ghillie suit. The AR in his hands was wrapped up in the same material and they could see a long rifle across his back, but it to was wrapped in the ghillie material and they couldn’t tell what kind it was. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing Rambo?” Ben said spitting and wiping his goatee.

“I don’t play Ben,” Chris said reaching up and pushing the hat off his suit, so now it looked like a head sitting on top of a bush.

Gene had known Chris’ dad and had known Chris since he was a young boy. A young boy who’d dreamed of serving his country and he did. Before Chris had left he was funny, always laughing and had tons of friends. Eight years and several wars later, Chris had come back with none of those things. Chris still loved his country, but despised the government that ran it. Not one time had Gene ever asked why, because if it could change Chris that much, he knew it would change him.

“How is it behind us?” Gene asked spitting.

“They have a team moving up Binarch Mountain Road about two miles away, heading for the highway,” Chris shrugged.

“You pulled out of the woods with a team heading this way?” Ben gasped.

“Scott and Pete are still back there,” Chris said digging in his suit and lifted up a drinking tube for a hydration bladder.

Ben looked up the tree-covered slope behind the house. “Do I know them?”

“Nope,” Chris said putting his drinking tube away.

Looking at Chris, “Do you trust them?” Ben asked

“Yep,” Chris said looking up with a blank face. Hearing that, Ben was satisfied. He liked Chris, though he was over a decade older than Chris. He thought Chris needed to relax more. “What are you two thinking so hard about?”

Ben waved his arm at the ten people left. “How fast our help is leaving.”

“If the shit had gone down, only one or two would’ve pulled the trigger,” Chris said holding out his hand to Gene. Gene groaned, but pulled out his can and handed it to Chris. “The only ones I’m counting on are you two and the ones with me,” he said thumping the can.

“So, you just come down to get a dip?” Gene said, watching Chris shove half the can in his lip. As Chris brushed the tobacco that fell in his beard off, he closed the empty can and passed it back. “Thanks,” Gene said putting the empty can in his pocket. The only one who got a bigger dip was Ben. As it was proved again, if both got a dip from the same can, the can was empty.

“No, waiting,” Chris said spitting.

“Waiting for what?” Ben asked turning to the road. “You think they are going to try us today?” Ben asked taking his AR off his shoulder.

“No, I wouldn’t be down here Ben,” Chris said spitting, “Waiting for reinforcements.”

“Already?” Gene shouted.

Wiping his beard after he’d spit, Chris nodded. “Seems Buck left and headed straight there, then headed back to help at the blast site till midnight. The feds have the scene closed now.”

“How do you know?” Ben asked.

“Just do.”

“Well from the looks of Buck, it was bad,” Ben said slinging the AR back over his shoulder.

Chris looked over with a twinkle in his eyes. “It looks like a small nuke went off. The blast area alone is three hundred yards across.”

Stumbling back, “You’ve been there?” Ben asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, went to check it out last night,” Chris said then turned to Gene. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you,” Gene said. “I always knew you were part of the crew.”

Chris gave a rare big smile and then it slowly dropped away. “You’d better be convincing.”

“Your momma never found out about your dad getting arrested, did she?” Gene asked.

His normal small grin that barely moved his bushy beard popped up on Chris’ face. “No,” he said.

On the highway, they could hear a line of trucks slowing down. The house was set over half a mile away from the highway and you couldn’t see it. Turning off the highway, you went through a small group of houses then down the long drive that led to Sonya’s. They had moved the dozer back to the long drive to Sonya’s since they were way down on manpower.

“Move the dozer, these will be for us!” Chris shouted. The deputy waved at him and pointed at one of the guys standing around who jumped on and fired the dozer up.

“You’re that sure?” Ben asked and Chris gave a slight nod. They soon saw a line of trucks and SUVs pulling trailers and a huge dump truck. Holding his tongue, Ben turned and stood beside them as a black Suburban stopped in front of them and the deputy came running over.

Ben’s mouth fell open seeing it was Ernest Porter. He owned car dealerships all over the state and had other businesses he had inherited. He was wearing tactical gear that really accentuated his shaved head and face. Reaching back into the SUV, he pulled out an AR as the deputy shouted behind him. When Ernest turned, the deputy visibly cringed. Ernest had money and knew people.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Ben asked in a low voice, pointing as Ernest talked with the deputy.

“Reinforcements,” Chris said with a nod. “Ben, I’m sure by now Gene has talked to you about grown-up conversations. You’re about to hear one, so please don’t embarrass me.”

Gene snorted so hard that snot flew out his nose. Wiping his nose, Gene looked up as Ernest walked over, holding his hand out to Chris. “How’s it here?” he asked.

“Team moving toward the highway on Binarch Mountain Road, Pete is shadowing them and Scott is on OP on the mountain,” Chris said and Ernest nodded, turning to Gene.

“Gene,” Ernest said holding out his hand.

“Ernest, it’s been a while,” Gene said shaking his hand, knowing Ernest only in passing and by reputation. “So, you come to join up in protecting Joshua’s family?”

Ernest studied Gene’s eyes and then smiled. “Yes,” he said glancing at Chris. “Seems someone found out and asked for help.”

“Ernest, Scott is your son and has been up my ass for the last three days. I’m telling you, it wasn’t me and anyone that says different, I’ll take my chainsaw to.”

Nodding, “I know and I haven’t asked Scott, Chris. It just bothers me that someone knew,” Ernest said.

“Well, we have a few on the department,” Chris said adjusting his AR across his chest. “Not saying they talked but you know how easy it is to put two and two together and Buck is sharp as a tack.”

Turning away, Ben saw more men getting out of the vehicles and all were dressed like Ernest. Looking at the trucks and SUVs he suddenly realized none had license plates. “Um, someone steal your plates?”

“No, I don’t like people knowing who’s driving,” Ernest said not looking away from Chris. “How bad you thinking?”

“If it happens, real bad,” Chris said. “They are expanding the area around the Forestry Station and setting up huge generators. Generators big enough that they are also putting in a power substation. They have engineers doing the work and it looks like they are getting ready for a few thousand.”

“I would rather help an innocent man in the field Chris, but I gave my word to Buck to make the stand here,” Ernest said as Sonya and the others stepped out. “Sonya, good to see you, under the circumstances.”

“Ernest, what are you doing here dressed like that?” she gasped running over. “You can’t be seen here or they will come after you. Think of your wife and kids.”

“Those of us here will take steps later, but they aren’t watching us here now,” Ernest said. “We’ve come to make sure they don’t try their tactics again.”

Looking past Ernest, Sonya knew many of the people walking toward her yard and they were all upstanding citizens with great jobs or businesses. Cutting her eyes to Chris, then to Ernest, Sonya shook her head. “Things are falling into place and making sense now.”

“I beg you to keep those to yourself, please,” Ernest smiled. Reaching inside his tactical vest, he pulled out an envelope and passed it to Sonya. “Stanley presented Joshua’s case to the grand jury yesterday and they refused to charge him. Now, this means nothing because the feds are still pressing charges, but legally, Joshua hasn’t broken state law, so no state law enforcement can apprehend him.”

Taking the envelope, Sonya sighed, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t me, thank Buck,” Ernest said. “Sonya, may my men use Joshua’s shop as our barracks? We need to spread out some.”

“Joshua owns that and the feds seized it,” she said holding the envelope.

“Beg to differ,” he said pulling out another envelope. “This is a written statement for me and my men who have been recently deputized to safeguard this area and that shop. No agency or law enforcement may enter unless approved by the lawful owners; like you,” he nodded. “Or are accompanied by the sheriff. Even with a valid warrant, any action otherwise is to be viewed as hostile.”

“I want friends like you, sometimes,” Ben mumbled and everyone looked at him. “Josh is the best friend ever, but he can’t pull weight like this. If he could, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, we would,” Ernest said. “Joshua knew a lot of people and that didn’t help him at all. Like I said, I wanted to be out there.”

Gene reached up and grabbed Ernest’s shoulder, startling him. “I promise you, Joshua doesn’t need our help and we would get in the way. We need you here because I’m telling you, they will try us.”

Ernest grinned, “And here I am.”

“Ernest, he’s in charge here,” Chris said with a flat expression.

“So I’ve been told and at first didn’t like it, but now I understand. Chris, will you give him a crash course on our tactics while I bed the boys down?”

Chris nodded and turned to everyone. “We need to get on the porch,” he said walking through them toward the house. As they moved, they heard the dump truck beeping as it backed up on the yard. As the bed lifted up they saw it was stacked to the top with filled sandbags.

“Gene, you’re in charge but if I may make a suggestion, if the shooting starts, let Ernest have control. He’s done this,” Chris said.

“What about you?” Ben asked. “The shit you’ve shown us over the years proves you know what you’re doing.” Sonya popped his left arm as Barbara popped his right.

“The boys are here,” Barbara said.

“I cuss worse than that when you’re not around. Last week I taught Sammy how to properly enunciate his swearwords,” Ben said rubbing one arm then the other.

Barbara rolled her eyes up as her head tilted back. “He doesn’t need instructions, Ben.”

“Yes he does!” Ben shouted. “If you don’t say a word properly when you are degrading another man, they don’t take it seriously. If other men find out you cuss funny, you are seen as a little sissy.”

Dropping her head till she was looking at Ben, Barbara’s mouth fell open, then she looked around at the others. “Is it me or did that not sound right?”

Chris shrugged, “Well, I’m taking Ben’s side on this, though this is a private matter, but he has a point.”

“It isn’t right to teach them that young, but Ben does have a point,” Gene nodded.

Barbara turned to Ben who stepped back. “I’m not going to pop you because they agree with you, but stop it.”

Throwing up his hands, “Hold on Barbara,” Gene said. “We said he had a point, but if you feel the need to pop him one, you shouldn’t suppress those urges.” Everyone busted out laughing as the men with Ernest formed a line and started passing sandbags toward the house. They started stacking them at the base, building a wall up the side.

“I’ll go and change to help them,” Sonya said running inside and followed by the boys.

Ben took his AR off and laid it on the porch table. “The day I have to change clothes to work is the day I’m lying in my casket,” he said marching over to help.

Chris started taking his AR off and Gene stopped him. “Back on the hill, I know and trust you with my life. I trust these men because you do, but I want to see them earn that trust as I do theirs.”

Nodding, Chris quickly explained how they identified each other and the passwords used. Gene didn’t understand until later that day when all the men pulled balaclavas over their faces, leaving only their eyes exposed.

As Chris walked up the slope behind the house, he prayed his friend’s home wouldn’t become a battlefield. But if it did, he was prepared to fight, kill and if necessary, die to protect his friend’s family.

Chapter Twenty-One

Late that afternoon, Buck was sitting on his deck beside Priest Lake at his house north of Coolin. Relaxing in his chair, he stared at the water as the clouds continued to build threatening rain. “May I join you?” he heard behind him and sighed.

“I didn’t really think you would come, Moore,” Buck said waving a hand at the chair beside him, but didn’t turn away from the lake.

Sitting down and relaxing in the chair as he sat his laptop down, Moore sighed. “Now this is a beautiful view.”

“Yes, it is. I waited for years to buy just the right house on this lake that me and the missus liked.”

Nodding, “It was worth it,” Moore said.

“I trust this isn’t a social visit.”

“No,” Moore groaned, just wanting to sit there and stare at the lake and mountains. “Sheriff, I’m here begging for your help. If this goes on, it’s going to be bad. I’m sure you’ve heard about the work at the Forestry Service airfield.”

“Yes, you’re planning on bringing in more agents rebuilding the task force to find Joshua. This afternoon you put out an APB on two state troopers wanted for questioning about the murder of a federal agent and three others missing. And this afternoon I heard that ‘Ivan the Terrible’, otherwise known as Homeland Senior Agent Benjamin Wagner, has been assigned to the task force.” Moore’s mouth fell open. “Moore, I may only be a sheriff of a small county, but I have friends.”

“Please help me get to Joshua before they do, and end this,” Moore begged.

Taking his eyes off of his beloved lake, Buck turned to Moore. “The grand jury didn’t indict, so Joshua’s broken no laws here.”

“He killed an IRS agent in Spokane,” Moore said solemnly.

Setting down his glass, “You know, Joshua wasn’t born yet, but we could pin the Kennedy Assassination on him,” Buck said.

“He left a calling card,” Moore said pulling out an envelope from his laptop bag. “It was a chainsaw wrench with his thumbprint, stuck in an air conditioning unit. If he wouldn’t have left it, we wouldn’t have known where the shot came from. He’s letting us know; he’s at war.”

Turning away and grabbing his glass, looking at the lake, “It’s called a scrench,” Buck said taking a sip. “And Moore, you already know he’s at war. Spokane isn’t in my county, so my position hasn’t changed.”

“He killed an innocent man,” Moore said putting the envelope back.

“That may be, but you’ve tried to do that as well by killing Joshua, the only difference was your guys missed. Your innocent man became a fugitive and you kidnapped his son to get at him. Moore, just how far do you think you have to push a man before he fights back? I’ve always followed the letter of the law, Moore. I know for a fact, you can’t say the same,” Buck said taking a drink.

“If presented with a valid warrant from Spokane county or Washington State, if I see Joshua, I will detain him. But if I only see a federal warrant, I can with a clean conscience, just wave at him if he walks by. You and your people created the monster, Moore. A monster that threatens you, and only you.”

“Sheriff,” Moore said with a sigh. “What would it take for you to help me?”

“Oh, you think you can buy me off? I love how the insurance claims were paid before they were even filed on the houses around the lodge. How those families that were standing in the county prosecutor’s office ready to file charges suddenly left. Nice houses were provided for them for a whole year, from some kind of government grant that nobody’s heard of. No Moore. I’m bought and paid for by the people of Bonner County. They bought me with their votes and that’s where my loyalty lies.”

Feeling the world sit down on his shoulders, Moore turned to the lake and leaned back in the chair. “You know what’s coming, sheriff. I’ve been told there are paramilitary men at Mr. Anderson’s house, turning it into a fortress.”

“On that, you can thank me,” Buck said raising his glass. “Never even knew they existed, and some are my deputies.”

“Militia?”

“No Moore. I know all the militia around here and have talked to them as well. They were getting ready to make your life a living hell. They stopped when I told them I would put their asses in jail if they attacked you. But I also told them if you attacked them on private property without a valid warrant, I would come to their aid,” Buck said setting his empty glass down.

Buck glanced over at Moore. “Just to warn you, they called everyone they know who lives in your search area and offered their services to protect their property. Of the three militias here with two hundred members, all of them are in your search area now, waiting.”

“Sheriff, I only got a report from a video feed from a drone. Those at Mr. Anderson’s home don’t move like want-to-be SEALs. They have training, and it’s good training.”

Chuckling, Buck rolled his head to look at Moore. “Oh, you have no idea. You try your little stunt there like you did at the school; you will get your ass handed to you with both hands. I’m sure you’ll find out sooner or later, but they call themselves the Panhandle Minutemen. Now, I would be very careful who you told that name to, it could have bad consequences for you. In case you’re wondering, I was given permission to tell you and only you who they were, for some reason. They aren’t some rowdy country boys thinking he’s John Wayne, they are real Americans who love this country.”

“If they are Americans, then they should be helping us,” Moore said lifting his head. “We are the government.”

“We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union,” Buck said laying his head back. “Sound familiar? I can recite it, if you wish. Unlike now, when I was a kid, you couldn’t graduate fifth grade until you could recite The Constitution. I can also recite the Declaration of Independence, but didn’t have to learn it until seventh grade.”

“Sheriff!” Moore snapped sitting up. “The government is the people, so don’t lecture.”

“Don’t snap at me on my deck beside my lake or you will find yourself with a bullet hole in you at the bottom of my lake,” Buck said closing his eyes. “I will turn myself in of course, later after enjoying my lake and my deck, but no shit from anyone is tolerated toward me on my deck beside my lake.”

Shaking his head hard, “Sheriff, I’m sorry and I do apologize for breaking an area of solitude,” Moore said genuinely.  “But the government is the people.”

“No, it’s not. If you believe that, then you’re an idiot. The government has never been the people, just representatives. The people are and will always be, America. The government now is money; people be damned unless they have money to support you or you can just take it. You have parties spending billions, that’s with a ‘B’ on a job that pays a quarter of a million a year. It’s a proven fact; the party that spends the most, gets elected. Care to explain how a congressman, whose salary is just over a hundred grand a year, can leave office in four years with a net worth of twenty million dollars? And that’s on the low side. I had to dig back all the way to the fifties to find a congressman that didn’t come out filthy rich after his term.”

“It may not be perfect, but it’s America,” Moore said leaning back in the chair.

“No, not anymore,” Buck said as his wife came out and refilled his glass. Sally cut her eyes at Moore, but set a glass filled with ice down and filled it with lemonade. “Thank you dear. That’s being a good host.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Moore said tilting his head. “Thank you very much.”

“He needs to relax, piss him off again on this deck; I’ll shoot you and throw you in the lake myself. He won’t arrest me because he would have to live with my mother without me,” she said raising her chin and walking inside.

“You know,” Buck said nodding as he lifted his head up. “She is absolutely right. My wife could cap you right now and I wouldn’t say a word because bullshit and by damn, if I end up living with that cranky old woman by myself.”

For the first time in weeks, Moore honestly laughed. “Then I shall refrain from breaking your harmony.”

Lying back in the chair, still in shock over the revelation about himself, Buck sipped his drink. “I always thought I would do the right thing,” he mumbled to himself. “Shit, I wouldn’t do it,” he gasped thinking it over and over again in his head. “I would take the blame for it before living with her mother.”

“Well, my ex-mother-in-law loved to call every chance she could and tell me how I could be a better husband and father. Looking back, I think she was right,” Moore said taking a drink.

“Sally’s mother is nice to me most of the time but others, my word, she cusses like a sailor and won’t shut up,” Buck complained. “She talks in her sleep. We put her on the other side of the house and can still hear her. She’s ninety and I think heaven doesn’t want her.”

Faintly from inside the house, “I heard that little Joe! I’m getting on my scooter and running your fucking ass over!” a very elderly voice screeched.

“And she has great hearing. I don’t know why I spent six hundred dollars on hearing aids she doesn’t need to wear, when she can hear a duck fart on the other side of the lake,” Buck said, hearing Sally try to calm her mother down.

“Sheriff, I truly didn’t mean to upset you, but this is growing bigger, faster and spiraling out of control. Please help me end it,” Moore said looking out over the lake.

“Giving up an innocent man who was pushed too far?” Buck said glancing over.

“Sheriff, let’s be honest, nobody is innocent. And that is not mine or your job, that is the job of the courts.”

“In our hearts, we know our innocence and have to live with that but in this county, notice I didn’t say country; we are innocent until proven guilty,” Buck said. “You and I both know, if Joshua is ever taken into federal custody, he’ll never see a courtroom.”

“What if I could guarantee it?”

Buck turned to look at Moore. “Like you did Beatrice Rowell, the sixteen-year-old girl that was sleeping with the Undersecretary of the Navy and had first-hand knowledge of bribery? Funny, how a sixteen-year-old is found in a wrecked car with a blood alcohol of .36, four times the legal limit, and four different drugs in her system when every friend she ever had said she never drank, did drugs or drove. You mean, like her?”

Setting his glass down, Moore wiped his eyes. “She left protective custody.”

“A minor can’t leave protective custody alone. A parent or legal guardian must do it for them. But you were pulled off that case two days before that tragic wreck happened.”

“Sheriff, that is my cross to bear,” Moore said in a whisper.

“So, Joshua could be another,” Buck said picking up his glass.

Moore looked over, “You honestly believe this confrontation that’s coming when they start to search, and teams demand to check private residences, is worth the carnage that will follow, just for one innocent man.”

“Yes,” Buck said setting his glass down. “If I say no now and take the easy road, just giving up an innocent man, then how many next time to avoid bloodshed; five, ten maybe twenty innocent men or women. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. When the government fears the people, there is liberty. Know who said that?” Buck asked staring at the lake. “Thomas Jefferson. He knew when government got too big, the people would pay.”

“Sheriff, in the very least, don’t get in the way of the teams. Federal law says they may search a domicile in the pursuit of a fugitive.”

“Yeah, I read that ruling. Exigent circumstances, if a cop believes crime is being committed, he is given grand latitude, like forcing his way inside a house, shooting unarmed persons, shooting someone when you served a warrant on the wrong house. You know, that’s the first time I’ve said out loud what I’ve always thought and it makes me sick,” Buck said with a sigh.

A screech sounded behind them and Moore turned to see a tiny lady sitting on an electric scooter trying to open a sliding glass door as Sally tried to stop her. “You’re one of the cocksuckers who killed Ethel, fucker! I’m shoving this cane up your ass and going to pull your tongue out your ass and hang you up on a limb, you sumbitch!” she screamed, hitting the glass with the cane as Sally grabbed the handlebars of the scooter and drove her mother back into the house.

“Can she get through that glass?” Moore asked. “The image of having my tongue pulled out my ass just… Makes me shiver.”

“You can walk faster than that scooter can go,” Buck said calmly. “I’ve had her following me for a mile waving her cane at me till her batteries died.”

“You left her there?” Moore said in shock.

“I called Sally and told her where to pick her up,” Buck shrugged. “She wanted to cut my balls off and play polo with them on her scooter because I turned Judge Judy off.”

“That’s a valid reason to call your wife,” Moore said as a shiver ran down his spine.

“It was either that or deck her,” Buck said. “And unlike your agents, we just let the old people rant. Hell, they earned it. Look what we let happen to this great country they built.”

Moore gave a huge sigh, lying back in the chair as Buck glanced at him. “Agent Moore, like I said, I’ve always followed the letter of the law. That’s what the people of Bonner County elected me for and I will follow it as will those under me as we enforce the law of Bonner County. But on this I warn you, in this civil atmosphere, the letter of the law will be followed and adhered to, but this is your warning: break this civil atmosphere into anarchy with jack boot tactics and I won’t follow the letter of the law anymore. I will follow the rules of war and they are thus: kill your enemy without mercy as quickly as you can, so peace can return to your homes because there is no second place in war.”

“Who said that?” Moore asked looking over.

“My grandfather did, talking about the Second World War.”

“I’ll do what I can but you’re facing huge odds sheriff.”

Buck threw his head back laughing, “Moore, you’re incredible. You want me to sacrifice an innocent man, have my people lay down so you can walk over them as you violate everything it means to be American. Then you act horrified when I tell you we are going to fight you and kick your ass.”

“I’m a realist,” Moore said sitting up.

“No, you’re not,” Buck chuckled. “You’re worried about the stuff on the sidelines and don’t see the wrath coming.”

“Oh, how so?”

Slowly turning till he faced Moore, Buck looked in his eyes. “You knew it, I saw it in your eyes when I showed up after the explosion, Joshua has started his war. You created this monster and you will have to deal with it.”

“You knew Joshua shot that agent in Spokane?” Moore gasped.

“As soon as I heard. It was 0912, if you want to know.”

“Sheriff, he can’t fight the three thousand they are putting in the field to find him.”

Giving a chuckle, Buck lifted his glass. “Yes, he can. You know how you eat an elephant by yourself? One little bite at a time. I’m sure in time you’re going to bring in people that are pure warriors but in the end, they too will lose. He’s fighting in an area he knows and has the support of the population. But most importantly, as long as he’s killing you, you can’t focus on his family. And Moore, I hope you don’t make that mistake again. That was some of the message from Spokane, he’s going to fight your war on the field. But mess with his family again and you’ll have more mass casualties, and I’m sure it won’t be here. Joshua will reciprocate in kind; he will go after your families.”

“I tried sheriff. I wrote to every congressman and senator, but they will not pull out,” Moore said dropping his shoulders.

Turning in his chair, Buck looked at Moore. “You know that one in Spokane was a warning. This I’m telling you for your own good because out of everyone stacked against him, you are Joshua’s biggest threat. He was letting you know; he can come and go as he pleases. He could hide and never be found. He can kill your people and remain anonymous. But he showed you, he’s not scared letting you know it was him and he’s coming to kill. No agent in America is safe,” Buck said then sighed. “My only concern is where he’s going to draw the line on who is his enemy.”

Moore jerked back and Buck laughed. “Oh, I know he will never fight us because we didn’t threaten his family. No, I mean is it the receptionist at some federal building? Any federal employee? I’m praying he keeps it to agents only, sorry,” Buck grinned.

“Then there is no stopping it,” Moore said.

“Sure, but on your end only,” Buck said seriously as his mother-in-law drove her scooter back at the sliding door still screaming at Moore. Sally ran and turned her around back into the house. “I believe the people around here are sick of getting shit on by Washington. Taking land and money and demanding more.”

Glancing at the sliding door, Moore was happy he didn’t see the demented woman. “How did Joshua convert two state troopers?”

“Convert? What is he some kind of preacher now?” Buck laughed. “Moore, today I stopped several hundred people from attacking you. Did Joshua convert them?”

“Sheriff, Agent Kellogg was a friend.”

“Like I said, for that I’m sorry, but he was a friend who didn’t belong here. Now I’m going to give you one final warning, don’t go after his family again. Not only will I come after you but heaven forbid, if you hurt Sonya or William, Joshua’s going to go after your families. I mean your wives, kids, siblings, and pets. Shit, I’ll lay money that he’ll kill the kids that played with you on the playground. Family is everything in this world Moore. Don’t push him that way because nobody will be able to stop him until the body count is so high it will seem unreal.”

“Well, sheriff, the tally from that explosion is four hundred and ninety-six so far, the three missing are presumed killed on a mountain somewhere and with the one in Spokane, Joshua’s war is over five hundred. That seems pretty high to me. There are still over two hundred listed in critical and unstable condition.”

“Nope, that was just payback for going after his kid. Plus, you know the feds will never admit that Joshua did it, even if he confesses.”

Nodding, Moore stood up. “Well, sheriff, I must say I wish I could’ve met you under different circumstances.”

“Yes, I think I would’ve liked that,” Buck said as Moore picked up his laptop case. “Moore, this will be the last time you come to this house unless you get your boys to pull out. If you want to talk, come to my office. I have a feeling you’re going to end up on the wrong end of my gun,” he said pausing and looking up at Moore. “I walk the line and only those that cross it, end up on the other side of my gun. Drive careful,” Buck finished and looked away over the dark lake.

Very sad, but knowing Buck was probably right, Moore left walking around the house to his car. At the front window, Buck’s mother-in-law was beating at it with her cane and screaming at him. “Yeah, if I was Buck, I wouldn’t turn in the wife either, if she killed someone. I’d hide the damn body myself, so no one would find it.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Joshua had the car parked and the horses saddled and was moving back into the wilderness before 1000. What had taken him so long was that he’d had to drive the BMW to the place where he’d stashed the horses, unload the car, drive it back to park and then walk back to the horses. Before he left the car, he looked at it with a sigh, not really believing he would be able to use it again. “Well, it served its purpose. If it’s here, it’s here,” he said and left.

Back in his battle gear, Joshua steered the horses northeast, heading to the dugout to drop stuff off and grab other stuff. On the drive up, he’d heard on the radio the feds were building up at the Priest Lake Forestry Service Airport. Which was just a big name for a dirt runway beside the road with several Forestry Service buildings. At one time, the explosives he’d stolen had been stored there, but OSHA and the EPA had said they couldn’t be and they’d moved the storage building north.

The airport was used for community events like sled dog races and outdoor events so he knew it well. What he didn’t like was that it was only  four miles away from William and Sonya. On the hourly reports, he’d heard of a large group of citizens that had formed up to stand guard at his house with the sheriff’s department. Knowing his crew would watch his family did set Joshua at ease, but he still felt it was his duty to protect them.

Stopping on a ridge, he climbed off King and waded through the bracken ferns. When he’d first come out, most of the ferns were barely knee high, now they were almost at his waist. The panhandle of Idaho was a temperate rainforest and the ferns shot up under the trees blanketing the forest floor. This factor would really help his plans because you had to push the ferns away just to see the forest floor.

Lifting his binoculars, he scanned the valley below only seeing trees, but paused over the few glades that dotted it. Then carefully, he followed the narrow valley floor to see if he spotted movement. Not seeing men but a nice moose, he climbed back on King and continued on.

It was just after 1700 and Joshua was a mile west of Little Grass Mountain still in Washington, when King stopped. Riding below the ridgeline in a nice forest, Joshua looked around then down at King. “What?” but King just looked ahead.

Giving King a little kick, Joshua tried to steer him ahead, but King turned southeast like he was heading for the cabin. “King, we can’t go there, they will turn you into glue,” he said yanking the reins. He tried to steer King toward the dugout, but King would only take a few steps and stop.

“Kin-,” Joshua started to say then stopped. Reaching down, he grabbed his M4 and pulled it across his chest. Then he patted King, “Good boy,” he said quietly and climbed off. Leading King with the mule trailing, Joshua headed up the ridge and followed a ridgeline that led north, away from Little Grass Mountain.

Knowing where the ridge led to, Joshua carefully followed it and kept looking over his shoulder at King. King seemed happy to go this way if Joshua wasn’t riding. Seeing a small clearing ahead, he left King and waded through the ferns, pulling out his binoculars.

Below him was a nice-sized valley that eventually fed into North Priest Lake. Bringing his binoculars up he started scanning. It didn’t take him long to see ten people riding horses and following a road on the valley floor, barely two miles away. “Yep, horses are better than dogs,” Joshua said turning around clicking his tongue in his cheek calling King up.

Ambling through the ferns, King led the mule and stopped behind him. Going to his saddle, Joshua pulled out his spotting scope and map. Raising up the spotting scope, he zoomed on the group and it wasn’t difficult to figure out that they were feds looking for him. Ten men riding horses with automatic weapons and tactical gear really gave it away.

Dropping to his knees, he opened the map and tried to figure out where to move so he could follow them. “I’m thinking of following this slope down to the next ridge that runs parallel to the valley. What do you think?” he said looking back at King. King just wiggled his ears.

“Okay, that’s what we’ll do,” Joshua said folding the map up. “Well, high-top’s notes said they only had ten horsemen on patrol, but they were two five-man teams. Guess they combined them to find little ol’ me.”

Moving down the slope and staying in the trees, Joshua kept an easy pace. “You know, we watched them and they never even looked around,” Joshua mumbled. “Why are they following roads? That’s the only place they can see me, so why would I follow roads?”

Not able to reason it out, Joshua kicked King in the side moving back into a normal walk. Thirty minutes later, he came to another clearing near the highpoint on the ridge and hopped off. Moving ahead, he pulled his binoculars out and looked down into the valley and saw he had cut the distance to them in half.

He watched the group pass a draw that led north, staying on the road. It looked like they were talking and he could see several had high powered rifles on their saddles. They followed the road along the valley floor and stopped at the east finger that ran along the draw they’d passed.

Zooming in, he saw one pull out a map as others pointed at the finger that ran beside the draw up to a ridge. He knew what they were pointing at; it was a trail that people hiked, not rode horses on. It eventually led to Hughes Lookout by a meandering way. The horse trail was on the other side of the ridge.

Watching the man with the map fold it up and lead his horse off of the road, the others followed in single file. “You guys are idiots. If you have a map, you can see that’s leading to a sixty-degree slope. I love my horse and wouldn’t trust him on a sixty-degree slope. The trail on the slope is a foot wide in places.”

Lowering his binoculars, he looked at the overcast sky. “It’s getting dark and you’re taking a freaking goat trail with thunder clouds overhead?” he said putting his binoculars up. “You believe that?” he asked turning to King who just looked at him.

Yanking out the map, he studied the trail they were taking. It wasn’t on the map, but he had walked it a few times scouting. He was only seven miles from the dugout. “They either have to turn back or move forward because the only place they can camp is below Hughes Ridge in that little glade,” he mumbled running his finger along the map. “If they make it this far, I can take them here,” he pointed at the map, but King didn’t look. “That is a rocky outcrop and the trail is only a few feet wide from here to here with no trees. Come on,” he said folding the map and jumping on King.

He directed King and the mule down into the valley, darting across the road on the opposite finger that led up the west side of the draw. Its slope was much gentler and was covered with bigger trees. When the rain started in a nice drizzle, he slowed King down. Not wanting to get King hurt, he pulled out his night vision and clipped it onto his helmet.

Like looking through a soda straw that lit up a small area, he guided King and the mule through the trees, looking east at the other ridge two hundred yards away. Seeing the rocky slope ahead on the other ridge, he stopped King and climbed off, leading him.

Finding a spot, he tied King up and pulled out the Lapua and grabbed all of his extra clips. “They had to have turned back. Nobody is that stupid to ride in the country you don’t know on a slope like that,” he mumbled then grabbed the thermal clip on the scope. Setting the rifle up beside a tree, he looked across the draw and could see the trail that went across the rocky area. The rocky area was about four hundred yards long but what took your breath away, was the rocky area that ran right to the bottom of the draw, four hundred feet down.

Four hundred feet might not sound that far, but looking down an almost sheer cliff four hundred feet to a small stream at the bottom, really activated the pucker factor. The slope he was on if he fell, Joshua wasn’t going ass over tea kettle to the bottom. This slope could be walked on and he wasn’t afraid to ride a horse on it. That one, he wouldn’t do it on a bet. Ben would, Joshua knew, but that just meant a sane person wouldn’t.

Lifting his range finder and finding the trail was two hundred and eight yards away, he lowered it and checked the rifle while hooking up the camera. After looking through the scope and not seeing shit, he clipped on the thermal and turned it on. He had practiced with it and really liked it, but he knew he would never spend seven grand on a scope unless the Wizard of Oz himself came with it.

Hearing King snort behind him, he fought the desire to shush him. Sitting down next to the tree, he brought the rifle to his shoulder. At two hundred yards, he was fine with shooting from the shoulder. Moving the rifle across the rocky area till he hit the trees, Joshua continued sweeping down the trail and froze. “You have got to be shitting me,” he said seeing hot spots moving between the breaks in the trees. “Shit, if I can see them with thermal, they can see me,” he mumbled setting down the rifle.

Trotting up to King, he pulled off the sniper blankets and threw one over King, mule would just have to make due. Taking the other, he moved back to his rifle and covered up, lifting his rifle. The first one was only a hundred yards from where the trees stopped on the exposed rocky slope.

Hitting record on the camera and taking his eye off the scope, he looked down at his magazines. “Only a fool would shoot at me on that trail, but only a complete idiot would be on that trail,” he mumbled and pulled the magazines closer.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Joshua flipped the safety off and controlled his breathing. The cool rain really made them stand out as the leader stopped where the trees ended and the rocky slope started. Joshua could tell he was wearing the huge four tube night vision like he’d taken from the FBI guys. He’d loved the field of vision, but the damn thing was heavy as hell and tilted his head down.

The group stayed in single file because that was the only choice they had and he could tell they were talking. Most in the group pointed forward, but two kept pointing back. “If I wasn’t here, I would say go back,” Joshua mumbled.

Seeing the leader turn in his saddle and face forward, Joshua relaxed when he saw the horse had better sense than the rider and didn’t want to walk on the scary trail. “Sorry horse,” Joshua mumbled watching the horse finally move and the others followed closely in single file. With each horse so close its nose almost touched the horse’s rump in front of it, the group was barely spread out over a hundred feet.

Slowing his breathing but not holding his breath, Joshua centered the crosshairs on the first horse’s chest and slowly squeezed. The rifle bucked and coughed as the round hit almost instantly. When the bullet hit the first horse, it reared up and threw its rider as they fell down the slope.

Racking the bolt, Joshua swung to the last rider seeing another horse rear up and fall down the slope with its rider. When the crosshairs centered on the chest of the horse, he squeezed the trigger and the horse stuttered and stepped off the trail, flipping to roll head first down the slope.

Moving his crosshairs back to the front, he saw another horse and rider go into the ravine and he pulled the trigger, sending another. Racking the bolt, he saw another horse and rider go as a rider jumped off his horse and tumbled down the slope into the draw. Feeling good about that, Joshua aimed and shot another horse and racked the slide.

Shifting his aim, he saw the riderless horse fall into the draw leaving only one who was pulling the reins hard and digging in his spurs to make the horse hold. “Bet he won’t stay,” Joshua said pulling the trigger.

When the bullet hit, the horse bucked straight up and when it came down it landed off the trail, tumbling down into the draw with the rider still pulling back on the reins. Dropping the magazine, Joshua slipped in another and aimed into the draw, but couldn’t see the horses or riders because of the trees.

Throwing off his ghillie blanket and grabbing his magazines, he moved along the slope till he found a spot where he could see them. Raising the rifle, he saw several of the horses trying to stand. Sitting down, he centered the crosshairs on one of the horses trying to stand and squeezed the trigger and the animal dropped.

In the end, he just shot all of the horses, making sure they were down. Moving his aim around, he saw several of the men moving with arms and legs bent at unnatural angles. None were standing and he only saw one that crawled a few feet. “Sorry,” he said lowering the rifle. “The horses were worth ten bucks a shot to put down.”

Gathering his magazines, he moved back to where he had started and gathered his gear, stopping the camera from recording. Loading up, he looked back down into the draw and then down at his M4. “Well, I guess the agents are worth a quarter,” he mumbled thinking of the 5.56. The last lot he had bought, he got them at a quarter a bullet.

Taking up the reins, he led King and the mule down into the draw. His slope wasn’t sixty degrees, but it was still steep so it took a little while. Reaching the bottom and crossing the stream, he looked down to where they’d fell. “Well, shit,” he huffed.

From up on the slope he’d been looking down at them and could see them easily, down here even with them, the ferns hid them and the horses’ bodies rather nicely. Looking back at King and thinking about just climbing on and leaving them, Joshua sighed and walked over to King. Pulling the thermal off the Lapua, he clipped it on in front of the Trijicon scope and turned it on.

“If this humanitarian shit gets me shot, I’m going to be pissed,” he said looking at King, then checked his M4 and moved up.

He found the first horse and saw a man trapped underneath it. Raising his rifle, Joshua didn’t even aim just pulling the trigger and watching the man’s head jerk. It was really creepy moving through the ferns and finding the wounded men. Joshua was reminded of that movie that William loved with the dinosaurs when the characters moved through the ferns and were picked off.

Shuddering and dropping in a crouch, he eased through the ferns to put the men out of their misery and hopefully, his conscience would shut up. He had killed because he was at war, but he wasn’t inhuman. When all but one was taken care of, Joshua moved closer toward the stream searching, and found it was the one who could crawl. From the way his body was twisted, it didn’t take a genius to figure his back was broken.

“We didn’t do anything to you,” the man moaned as Joshua moved up aiming his rifle.

“What are you doing here? No patrols are supposed to be this far north.”

“Searching for the bodies of team eighty-one that those troopers killed,” he panted.

Joshua laughed, “Those troopers didn’t kill them, I did. Don’t you wish you could tell someone?” he said pulling the trigger.

Lowering his rifle, he looked around. “That was spooky. Next time, I’ll save my quarters,” he said and started gathering gear. He paused as lightning raced across the sky lighting up the area. “This can wait,” he said and trotted to King.

Not climbing on, he led King and the mule into the trees. When lightning flickers through the mountains, you don’t want to be the tallest thing in the area. It really didn’t matter if he was in a draw, the area he was at was covered with ferns. Leading King a few yards in, he stopped between two large trees and tied King to a bush.

“Yeah, we get rain this early; this year is going to be wet as hell,” he said looking at King. Pulling the tent out, he undid the snap and tossed it, watching it spring out to a tent before it hit the ground and still chuckling at the sight.

Taking his rucksack off and putting it in the tent, Joshua took the saddles off of King and the mule. Before he climbed in the tent he looked at King who had his head down. “Sorry, buddy, and I know I usually don’t have a tent and tough it out with you, but this is a cool tent,” Joshua said and ducked inside.

***

Hearing King snort, Joshua’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed the 1911 beside him. When the mule brayed, he quickly unzipped the tent climbing out in his underwear in the light drizzle. Seeing King and the mule looking up the draw, he spun around bringing up his pistol.

Two nice sized coyotes were outside the trees near the stream looking at them. “Don’t. You’d better go find the roadrunner if you want to play,” Joshua said lowering his pistol and realizing it was light out.

Lifting his wrist, he looked over at King. “You let me sleep till seven.” The mule charged the coyotes and they ran down the draw making the mule stop chasing. With an almost happy gait, the mule trotted over to him and King.

Joshua reached out rubbing the mule’s head. Contrary to popular belief, mules were rather intelligent. Though he had owned dozens, using them as pack animals, Joshua always called them ‘mule’. None had ever endeared to him. “Well, I think your name is Jack,” Joshua said rubbing him between the ears. “Because sometimes, you act like an ass.”

Jack turned his head so Joshua could scratch behind his right ear. Stepping over and bumping Joshua with his head, almost knocking him down, King reminded Joshua, that Joshua belonged to him. Chuckling, Joshua petted him then pulled out the feed bags. There was some grass beside the stream but with all the bracken ferns, he didn’t want to chance the horses getting sick.

Climbing back into the tent, he dried off and dressed while digging out his rain gear and long range drover coat. After he’d dressed and pulled his gear out of the tent, he twisted the tent’s frame, folding it into a circle again. Not able to help it, Joshua tossed it again, laughing as it popped back into a tent before it hit the ground. “I don’t care what it cost, I’m buying more of these,” he chuckled, twisting the tent back up and packing it.

He almost headed to the bodies without King and Jack but stopped. “No, predators have already showed up,” he said and put the saddle on King and the pack saddle on Jack. When they were done eating, he pulled out an energy bar to eat and led them to the bodies.

Walking up, he saw the ferns move as coyotes ran off. Seeing how many ferns moved, he was glad he’d brought King and Jack. Coming to the first body, Joshua shook his head just looking at the twisted limbs. “Gravity is a law we can’t break,” he said bending down.

Most of the equipment was useless after the fall. Even the barrel of the M4 was bent and the scope was smashed. Taking the man’s helmet off and looking at the quad night vision goggle, Joshua sighed seeing the tubes were busted. Then he saw the wires didn’t run to one side of the helmet, they ran to the back.

The one he’d taken had the battery box mounted on the right or left side which tilted your head down and depending which side you mounted the batteries, to the side. This one’s battery box was at the back of the helmet and acted like a counter balance.

Taking the battery box and setting it aside, he moved to the ripped open backpack. Looking up the slope at the trail of contents from the pack, he started gathering what wasn’t destroyed. Moving to the horse he found two saddle bags full of grain and fought to get them from under the horse.

Setting them aside at the beginnings of his pile, Joshua moved on and saw a rifle scabbard and pulled out the rifle giving a low whistle. It was a nice Lapua, but the barrel was bent in two places and the scope was destroyed. He looked at the corpse beside the horse. “Why didn’t you protect this? I would’ve used this.”

Tossing the useless rifle away, he started stacking what he could use. Like the first one, this pack had been ripped open during the fall. Moving up the debris trail, he stopped at a green plastic ammo can. Opening it up, he pulled out a custom cast .338 match grade shell. He turned to the corpse. “These things are like twenty-three dollars apiece and you were going to shoot at me with them?” Joshua asked amazed. “Much obliged.”

When he was done, only three backpacks were salvaged and sitting beside Jack. The only cool electronics he’d found intact were two thermal scopes. One was a clip-on like he had and the other was designed as a standalone and much bigger. Even the wrist watches they wore had been destroyed in the tumble down the mountain. What intrigued him about this group was that they’d had two of the big radios like he’d gotten off of high-top. One was destroyed but the other was working, sort of. Digging in their stuff, he found a notebook on one that had the radio code that actually let the radio work. Unlike the radio he’d gotten from high-top, this one was locked on one frequency.

Setting it aside, he lifted up the next new discovery. Each man had had a handheld radio mounted to them. Like the radio that he’d taken from Wayne, in what seemed a lifetime ago, these looked like cop radios but were bigger with longer antennas and like the big radio, locked on one frequency. In one man’s pack, he found a notebook with codes, tried it and found that was how you were able to change frequency. Of the ten handheld radios, only two had survived. Another new discovery was there were four satellite phones, but only one wasn’t broken.

Looking at the pile, he grinned. “So, if one gets separated, they can call the others and with more phones, the better chance they can call home. Seems having several teams getting lost have taught you some lessons.”

Only four M4s were of any use, and on one he’d had to toss the suppressor because it was bent up so bad, but pulled another off one of the M4s that the barrel had been bent. Out of eleven pistols, he found five were okay, along with one stainless Remington 870 shotgun.

He looked at the IDs spread out in front of him on the ground. Six were BLM agents and the other four were Homeland. The BLM agents were from Utah and Nevada and that made more sense to Joshua why they’d pushed on. To the agents, these were more hills than mountains.

Loading Jack and King up, he led them out of the draw and headed to the dugout.  All of the bodies, including the horses, had shown signs of coyotes and he didn’t feel like staying around much longer. Bears were out of hibernation now and hungry too.

Remembering an old Indian proverb, ‘If a tree falls in the forest, an eagle will see it, a deer will hear it, and a bear will smell it’. Joshua wanted away from the bodies before they started showing up.

As the rain turned from a drizzle to a light rain, Joshua pulled his long drover closed as he guided King into the trees with Jack behind them. “Need to move slow King. We can’t risk getting hurt,” he said patting King’s neck as King carried him up the slope. “You know, if this hadn’t happened, William and I would’ve been fishing with Buck in a few days.”

Knowing the war was only beginning, Joshua settled in the saddle and tried to think of new tactics he could use. In all the books he’d read, profilers didn’t like it when their quarry changed tactics, so he was aiming to highly piss them off.

THE END

Look for Book Two

September/October 2016

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Table of Contents

- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two