A Merciful Promise (Mercy Kilpatrick #6)(4)

Carleen pressed her lips together. “We had a theft about eight months ago—”

“I heard about that,” Eddie interrupted. “Two of your agents died. A stockpile of weapons the police had removed from the streets in the Southwest got intercepted in transit with a big shoot-out in Nevada.” He looked at Mercy. “Some of the weapons collected are not legal in the US.”

Aha. Murdered agents and illegal guns.

“The guns were probably back on the streets within days,” Eddie continued.

Every agent’s nightmare. Mercy tilted her head, watching Carleen.

“We think most of the guns, including the illegal ones, ended up with this group, and possibly America’s Preserve was behind the attack.”

“And behind the deaths of your agents,” Mercy supplied as pain flashed in Carleen’s eyes. “Tell me about Pete Hodges.”

“He’s been on our radar for a while. He emerged back east several years ago when he was associated with a militia group out of Pennsylvania. He split from them after publicly arguing with their leader.”

“What was the problem?” Eddie asked.

“The militia group had decided to stand up for and protect all free speech—not just the free speech they agreed with.”

“As they should,” Mercy pointed out.

“Well, their idea of protecting free speech was to send their armed, fatigue-wearing members into the center of pro-immigration rallies to stand between neo-Nazi protesters and the organizers to protect both sides’ rights to speak.”

“They were acting as police,” Eddie said. “Good intentions, but that’s not how it’s done.”

“Correct, and Pete Hodges didn’t like this First Amendment stance one bit,” Carleen continued. “He’s quoted as saying, ‘You either fight fascism or you enable it.’ He said there is no neutral peacekeeping. This didn’t sit well with the leadership of the group, and Pete left. Before that he was associated with the Three Percenters.”

Eddie raised a questioning brow at Mercy.

Since she’d worked domestic terrorism for years, the group’s name was familiar. “The Three Percenters have strong opposition to gun control laws. All of the laws,” she emphasized. “They’re very vocal.”

“Yes,” said Carleen. “Pete Hodges refers to the ATF as out-of-control gun cops.”

“So it’s not surprising that he would have stolen an ATF stockpile of weapons,” said Mercy.

“Illegal arms, remote antigovernment group.” Eddie lowered his voice as he looked at Carleen. “You don’t want another Ruby Ridge incident.”

Desperation flashed on Neal’s face. “Why does everyone bring up—”

“No one wants another tragedy like Ruby Ridge,” Mercy answered quickly, attempting to check Neal’s response. Three people—including a child—had died in the eleven-day rural siege that had grabbed the attention of the nation decades ago. “That was one family with one minor weapons purchase. The similarities between this case and that one aren’t that close, but I understand why the memory pops up. The case will always be a shadow over the ATF and FBI. Both agencies learned to do better.” She met both Neal’s and Eddie’s gazes. Neal looked away, and Eddie grimaced. This wasn’t the time for an interagency argument.

“So now you see why we need more people inside,” Carleen went on. “We need to tread carefully because it is an unpredictable situation.” She paused. “Our agent told us he heard rumors of a big plan. Something targeting us.”

“Us?” asked Mercy.

“The ATF.”

“Define ‘big plan,’” added Eddie.

Carleen met his gaze. “Something to cripple the agency. I know that’s vague, but all Chad could say was that explosives had been mentioned.”

The room went quiet.

“I know some of these types of groups feel the ATF treads on their constitutional rights by enforcing current gun laws,” Mercy said slowly. “Crippling your agency would make this faction heroes to certain populations.”

“But how could they actually affect the workings of the ATF?” muttered Eddie. “A cyberattack would probably be the most effective, but I assume that’s not their forte. Blowing something up would make the largest visible message—I’d guess that’s their goal. Something splashy.”

“We want our agents to be safe. That’s our main objective.” Carleen looked at Mercy. “We need to know what’s going on in that compound.” She pressed her lips together for a long second, and Mercy knew she didn’t want to say the next sentence. “You won’t be allowed to tell your family what you’re doing or where you are. We can’t risk an accidental leak.”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Eddie. He turned to Mercy, shaking his head, concern in his brown eyes. “Truman will never go for it. Not after what happened to you last winter with that militia.”

“I don’t need Truman’s permission,” Mercy said, but the thought of being completely out of contact made her light-headed. Truman was her rock; their wedding was in three months.

Carleen raised her chin and looked away from the FBI agents and out the window. “There are several children in the compound,” she said softly.