BAD DEEDS: A Dylan Hunter Thriller (Dylan Hunter Thrillers) (7 page)

As Adair spoke, he stood hands on hips, muddy boots rooted wide. Stood surveying his domain with what Hunter knew was an owner’s pride.

He turned to Hunter. Studied him a moment. “That’s a funny look. What’s on your mind?”

“You remind me of somebody.”

“Anybody I might know?”

Hunter shook his head slowly. “Somebody you would have liked.”

When the laughter died down, Boggs stopped pacing and faced them. He lowered his voice, speaking with quiet, simple urgency.

“I founded WildJustice on a simple moral principle:
We do not accept a human-centered worldview
. We do not view nature as here for
us
, for
our
sake. We believe that all life exists for its
own
sake. All life has
intrinsic value
of its own. And by that moral principle, our entire human-centered civilization—and the ideas that support it—are
anti-nature
, and our industrial and technological activities are
unnatural.

“In fact, humans—hard-wired to alter nature for our own greedy profit and selfish benefit—are really the only
unnatural
life form. Perhaps one day some virus will come along and set things right again. But for now, if what is left of nature is to be spared, then what we call ‘civilization’ must be stopped—by any means necessary!”

He saw the shock registering in many of the eyes. Even though he had said and written similar things many times before, he knew that a lot of them just didn’t get it. This time, though, it seemed to be sinking in … and it was making some of them uncomfortable.

Some, but not all. He saw the dawning realization, the eager intensity blazing in other eyes. And he took note of who they were.

They would be his soldiers.

“Any questions, Dylan?” Adair asked.

“Plenty. But let’s cut to the chase and start with that proposed EPA moratorium. You’ve described all the precautions you take against leaks of chemicals into the groundwater. But the EPA says radioactive and toxic chemicals from this site were found in wells around here, contaminating the drinking water.”

“That’s what they say, all right.”

“But you say …?”

Adair held his eyes. “That it’s a fraud.”

Hunter had an intuition for detecting liars, honed by special training from the Agency. He caught no sign of deception in this man.

“So how do you explain their claims?”

“Simple. Those contaminated samples were planted.”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Planted?”

“At this site, and in all those water wells. And we can prove it. Or, rather, a toxicologist I hired—a damned good one—can prove it.”

Hunter exchanged glances with Annie; her eyes reflected his own surprise.

“Planted by whom?”

Adair shrugged. “Wish I knew. We’ve had some turnover of employees. And many people truck in materials, coming and going all the time. Lots of possibilities. But that’s not all of it. Other funny stuff has been going on around here, for a long time … Here’s what I’d like to do: Are you two free into the evening? I want to introduce you to our toxicologist, Dr. Adam Silva. And some other folks who have stories to tell. At my place, over an early dinner. You like steak?”

Hunter looked at Annie again; she shrugged, leaving it up to him.

“Sounds great.”

Boggs began to pace again.

“As you know, yesterday a group of us began an action against a local fracking company, Adair Energy. We targeted it because it was caught polluting the pristine, natural waters of this forest with toxic and radioactive chemicals. The EPA is dragging its feet, so we took the first step to shut them down
now
. But as you know”—he stopped, gestured at his bruised face, and smiled sheepishly—“as you can
see
, we were met with violence.”

It generated the expected chuckles.

“Well, my friends, that won’t stop us. Not by a long shot. Our action yesterday was only the beginning, the first skirmish in a war against this deadly industry and its ruthless profiteers.”

Applause and shouts of “Right on!”

“In the past, the cops have tried to infiltrate and disrupt our organization. So for operational security, we are organizing future actions in small ‘cells.’ Only cell members will have advance information about their own actions. That will legally protect all of you not specifically involved in those actions. And, as always, your participation in any action is completely voluntary. Are you all cool with that? … Great. All right, then, I think we’re done here. Thanks for coming.”

Another ripple of applause went through the crowd and they began to leave.

Dawn moved to him, beaming, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him. “Oh Zak, that was wonderful!”

He smiled at her. “Hey, be careful with your beautiful injured lips … Oh, could you give me a minute? I have to grab Rusty before he leaves.”

He pressed his way through the milling crowd to an older, red-haired man. A man he had known, worked with, and trusted for years. He tapped him on the shoulder.

“Could I have a word, Rusty?”

He led the man away from the others, to a quiet corner of the tent. He spoke to him for a couple of minutes, then squeezed his shoulder and returned to Dawn while Rusty left.

“I just sent him on an errand,” he explained in answer to her inquiring look. “I told him to go to that diner and see if he could learn about that man and woman.”

“And if he learns something, then what?”

Boggs saw the worry in her soft blue eyes and smiled reassuringly. He knew her limits. She was fine about actions against
property
, like the Adair office. But she had hesitated to go after the
people
there. It wasn’t fear; it was just her gushy sentimentality. He had learned long ago that there were things he couldn’t trust her to do. Things she had to be shielded from knowing.

“Why, we
sue
them, of course!” he lied easily. “We hadn’t done a thing to those two. But they came outside without provocation and attacked us.” He brushed a loose strand of her hair away from her face. “I’m guessing they’re friends of the Adair people. So maybe if we file charges for physical assault, Adair will drop charges against
us
for our action at their office.”

She bought it; her answering smile held relief.

“Now, I have to run an errand of my own. I’ll be back at our tent in fifteen, okay?”

He kissed her cheek and left. Then headed off into the woods and over to the creek. He followed it downstream for about two hundred yards, to a rock outcropping about five feet high.

He looked around, made sure nobody was in sight. Then knelt and dragged away the brush he had piled beneath it. He leaned in, groping inside a wide fissure in the base of the rock.

Found the ice-cold handle of the satchel. Lifted it out—carefully. Set it on the ground.

He thought of the man and woman and smiled as he unzipped the bag and looked inside.

The pipe bombs were stacked exactly as he had left them.

Dan Adair led them back inside the site’s mobile headquarters, what he called the “data van.” He spoke to a man at one of the desks, getting a progress update. He spent a few minutes on the phone making dinner arrangements. Then he walked over to Will Whelan, still occupying Adair’s seat at the end of the van and working at a laptop keyboard.

“Will, since we’re short-handed here tonight, I’ll need for you to stick around till about eight and take those phone reports from Texas when their crews knock off.”

Whelan spun his chair to face Adair, frowning. “Hey, I had things I wanted to do tonight.”

The snippy tone surprised Hunter.

“Look, I’m sorry about that. But I’m heading home now with these folks to continue our conversation. They’ll be staying for dinner.”

“Well, that’s just great. What about
me?
”

Hunter stared at Adair, astonished to see that he looked apologetic rather than angry.

“There’s plenty here in the fridge. And you’ll get the O.T. rate for the extra hours.”

“Yeah,” the young man snapped, turning his chair and his back on Adair. “Whatever.”

“You can have tomorrow off. Okay?” It sounded almost like pleading.

Whelan didn’t respond. Hunter caught Annie’s glance, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Anyway, it’ll be steak when you get home, Will. I’ll make sure your mom keeps a hot plate for you.” Adair turned back to them and smiled sheepishly. “Let’s go.”

They dropped their hard hats and goggles on a shelf and left. After the door closed behind them, Adair led them a distance from the van before speaking.

“Sorry about that. I should explain—”

“No need,” Hunter interrupted. “Not our business.”

“No, really. You’ll probably run into Will again while you’re up here doing research. You see, he’s my stepson.”

“Ah,” Annie said.

“Hell, you don’t think I’d let anyone but family talk to me like that.”

“Dan,” Hunter said, “I didn’t think you were the type to let anybody talk to you like that.”

Adair didn’t respond or look at them. He kept walking, leading them to the parking area. Hunter already pegged him as unpretentious and practical, so didn’t expect that he’d be driving pricey show-off wheels. Adair confirmed it when he stopped at the door of a cherry Nissan Titan SE pickup. The man knew his trucks; this one was best in its class for off-road work.

“It’s still early,” Adair said. “I’ll introduce you to the family over drinks and snacks before dinner. I just arranged for a couple of others to join us. You’ll find their stories interesting. Follow me.”

It was just after four p.m. when Rusty Nash ambled up to the counter of the Whitetail Diner and planted himself on a stool amid three of the regulars. He knew they were regulars because they were chatting up the busty blonde behind the counter like they were old friends. He smiled and nodded at them all, then asked her for coffee. As he sipped quietly from the steaming mug bearing the restaurant’s jumping-deer logo, he listened and sized them up.

All three customers and the woman behind the counter were fiftyish, like him, though he wouldn’t see that birthday for a few more months. One guy, sitting apart from the other pair, wore a tidy uniform that matched him up with the phone company truck parked outside. The other two, dressed rougher, obviously belonged to the building-contractor pickup beside it. One man was chubby, the other skin-and-bones.

He had already prepared his line of bullshit on the drive over. He was proud of how good he was at bullshitting people. He also was proud that Zak relied on
him
for this sort of thing. Zak liked that he didn’t look like the rest of the group. Partly, Zak said, it was because Rusty was a lot older than most of them. And partly because he dressed and talked just like a regular guy. And partly because he was so easy-going. Zak admitted that he himself and most of the others came across as “pretty intense.” His words. “I like the fact that you are so laid-back and friendly, Rusty,” he said. “You have the knack for fitting in anywhere—for blending right into the background, like …” What the hell was that lizard he mentioned?

Anyway, it turned out that he didn’t have to use his line of bullshit on these people at all, because they made it easy for him. They were already talking about what happened yesterday when he sat down.

“I had to check with my insurance agent,” the blonde was saying to Skin-and-Bones, “to see if the policy would cover me if they tried to sue me for the injuries.”

“How could they sue you, Sherry?” Phone Guy cut in. “They started the trouble.”

“You never know these days. Laws ain’t what they used to be. And the injury lawyers, they’re all sharks. Still, I’m just glad Brad and Annie were here to kick the crap out of them. No telling what that gang would’ve done to us or to my place if they got in here.”

His opening.
“Sounds like you had some excitement here.” He grinned.

The woman, Sherry, turned to him and chuckled. “Did we ever! You know ’bout that environmental gang, WildJustice?”

“Not sure. They local? I’m just visiting a cousin up here for a few days.”

Sherry then unloaded her description and opinion of his group, in language so salty he was surprised to hear it coming out of a woman’s mouth in public. The three guys roared, so he had to force himself to laugh, too.

“Well anyway,” she continued, “they come here yesterday chasing three poor scared clerks from a fracking office down the road.” Sherry then delivered her version of what happened. Which further pissed him off. He wanted to throw his coffee in her face, but he held it together and made sure to look amazed and say “No shit!” and “You’re kidding!” at all the right places. When she ran out of steam, Chubby said, “Boy, I wish I was here to see all that go down.”

“Me too,” Rusty chimed in, keeping the grin plastered in place. “Man, I’d a loved to see them punks get their sorry asses whipped. And you say it was just
one guy
and
a girl?”

“Unbelievable, huh?” Sherry laughed and wiped her hands on her apron. “Brad, he’s tall and tough-looking; I think he fought in Iraq. You can see how he could take care of himself. Annie, on the other hand, she’s just a little thing. But boy, can she ever fight!”

“So you know them. They locals, then?”

Sherry shook her head. “From New Jersey. But they’ve been staying here on vacation this month.”

“Yeah? My cousin, he told me all the rentals around here was shut down for the winter.”

“They don’t rent. Brad has his own cabin out past Endeavor. You know where that is?”

“I think I been through there. Out on 666, right?”

“Just past there. Up East Hickory Road.”

This is too easy
. “I didn’t know there was any cabins up there. Just woods.”

“Well, that’s what you think when you look around from the road. But if you drive up past the little bridge over Hickory Creek …” She then described exactly where the driveway was.

Rusty grinned again. This time he didn’t have to force it. “Well, I sure am glad there’s still some people who stand up to the creeps trashing this country. I’d love to shake their hands while I’m here visiting. They come in here a lot?”