Fear No Evil(Alex Cross #29)(65)

“Bigfork, Montana,” Sampson said, grinning at me. “What do you say? It’s not the way we planned it, but when opportunity knocks, you’ve got to answer, right?”

The obsessive part of me wanted to come up with reasons we should stay close to the day-to-day grind of the investigation. But Mahoney was right. Unless the sheriff’s dragnet picked up the four survivors of the massacre or something dramatic was found at the ranch in the morning, there really was no reason for us to stay and work this end of things.

“Let’s do it,” I said and clapped Sampson on the shoulder. “We leave in the morning. Montana-bound.”





Chapter





75




Matthew Butler and his men had raced daylight and the cover of the thunderstorms that entire afternoon, rotating as they moved, one man resting while the other two carried the crude litter and the wounded Alison Purdy. The burglar was in and out of consciousness when they finally reached the clear-cut where Butler had hidden the old Land Cruiser, covered in tree limbs left behind by loggers.

It was past sunset, but Butler waited until almost full darkness before leaving the woods and moving to the slash pile. They laid Purdy to one side and pulled the limbs and branches off the rig until they had it freed.

Butler got the key from under the rear bumper, opened the door, and retrieved the medical kit while Vincente lowered the tailgate and dropped one of the back seats. They slid Purdy on the litter in with Big DD sitting beside her.

“Wait until we hit the deep forest up ahead and we’ll turn on the lights enough to get an IV in her,” Butler said and started the truck.

He held the night-vision monocular to his eye with his left hand and put the rig in low gear with his right. For the next fifteen minutes, the truck clawed and bounced across branches, stumps, and mounds of dirt until they reached a section of uncut trees.

Butler stopped and turned on the interior lights. “Go to work on her. I’ve got to make a call.”

He reached under the front seat, retrieved a satellite phone, and got out. He walked into darkness while it warmed up and then made his call.

There was none of the normal, calm, calculated intellect when M answered. “Where the hell have you been? What in the hell happened down there? The chatter we picked up says—”

“Scrambled?”

“Yes, damn it, scrambled!”

“They came at us with a small army, M,” Butler said. “Automatic weapons. RPGs. We lost everyone at the ranch. Even the kids. Cortland’s gone too. Purdy’s wounded but will live; we’re getting an IV in her now. We took out most of the cartel’s men before we bugged out.”

There was silence on the line. Then: “How did they find you?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me. They came out of nowhere. We’re lucky to be alive.”

After another long pause, M said, “Cross. Or Mahoney. Or Sampson. The FBI. They must have found something that pointed to you, and Cross told Emmanuella Alejandro about it. Cross didn’t want to be involved in the attack, but he wanted us defeated, so he told her.”

At times, Butler could barely tolerate M’s growing paranoia over Alex Cross.

“Or maybe there was a leak on your end,” Butler offered.

“Don’t you think I’d be in handcuffs if there were?” M roared. “It’s Cross, I’m telling you. He’s out there right now. Mahoney and Sampson too. In Wyoming. On the ranch! They’re…they’re after me!”

“At the moment, they are after the four of us,” Butler snapped. “So why don’t you help us figure out how to get out of here without getting caught.”

M did not reply for several long moments and was much more composed when he did. “You’re right, Butler. I apologize. We’ve got your GPS position and we have been monitoring law enforcement communications out there and know where the sheriff’s roadblocks were as of one hour ago.”

“They going thermal once the weather clears?” Butler asked, fearing a helicopter with a thermal-imaging system picking up the Land Cruiser.

“Not that we’ve heard, but it is the logical next step,” M said. “Start driving as soon as Purdy is stable. We’ll get you out of there long before they put a bird back in the sky.”

“Roger that.”

“And when you get free, Butler, I have decided that we are going to finish Cross. Then we’re going back to Mexico to pay a visit to Emmanuella herself to end this.”

“The Maestro leaves his podium?”

“I’ve waited a long time for a face-to-face, Butler. I want that murdering bitch to know who destroyed her and the cartel her brother built.”





Chapter





76




Raphael Durango and five of his remaining men were holed up in a motor home parked deep in Bureau of Land Management property some forty miles east-northeast of Laramie. They’d been there since before dawn, sleeping, eating, and talking their way through the battle, as warriors do.

Durango’s instincts told him to move on at dark, to head east and then south toward Denver, New Mexico, and the border. But before that, he had to face his half sister.

He gave his men a bottle of tequila and ordered them outside before starting the motor home and booting up the satellite internet base station. When he had a solid feed on his laptop, he routed it through a VPN to give himself partial anonymity and then routed it through a second VPN to assure an untraceable connection.