Hunted (21 page)

“It's all coming apart, Max,” one of the agents who was very reluctantly aligned with him said. “Not only are the reporter and the rangers gone, but so is John Ayers.”

Max Vernon stood silent, waiting for the man to finish.

“You know damn well they'll polygraph us. When we fail it, and we will, IAD will never give up.”

“All because of a bunch of hippie trash and hermits,” another agent said bitterly.

That agent had conveniently put out of his mind that he had been a part of attacking Sam Parish's bunch, who, at the time, had been unarmed. That agent forgot that others just like him had attacked the peaceful cabin of Jody Hinds and killed his wife and her sister and her sister's boyfriend. That agent forgot that Kevin Carmouche and the other families they attacked had broken no laws, unless defending oneself was against the law. That agent, and the others like him, either could not or would not understand that this was big government gone completely out of control. There had never been a proper symmetry of checks and balances within the enforcement agencies of the federal government. Now that imbalance was coming home to roost.

“There is a way out of this,” Max said, thinking fast. Then he laid it out, slowly and carefully.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Max!” an agent said, after Max had detailed his plan. “No. No, man. No.”

“It's either that or prison,” Max replied. “And you know what will happen to us in prison.”

There were some forty hard-core agents left who had been part of the original bunch who attacked the survivalist camp and the homes of the hippies and Jody Hinds. The others who had taken part in those triple travesties of justice were either dead, killed by the mercenaries or by Jody Hinds (who had been quite busy doing just that), or they had bowed out and joined teams in the field, after vowing to keep their silence.

“We've got Stingers,” another agent spoke up.

“How the hell did we get Stingers?” he was asked.

“They're mine,” the agent said. “Never mind how I got them. We can bring down Hank's chopper with one, and that will be that. Goodbye Hank and Bitch Carol. Blame the shoot-down on Sam Parish's bunch.”

“Good, good!” Max said. “I like that.”

“At the same time the chopper goes bang, we hit what's left of the camp and take out Augello and his people,” Marty Stewart said. “We know that spic and those in his team are solidly behind Hank Wallace.”

“Right,” Max said. “Good. Now let's work it out.”

* * *

“Coming in!” Darry called to the camp. “I've got a crowd with me.”

It was after midnight; the rain had ceased, but the night was as black as sin from the low-hanging clouds that covered the area.

Fires were built up and fresh coffee brewed. The entire camp was up, listening to Rick Battle and Alberta Follette tell their stories.

“Incredible,” Hank said, when the rangers had finished recounting the events.

“We hadn't done nothing,” Jody said, slipping out of his madness into a moment of lucidity. “Nothing. I haven't used dope since 'Nam. I sure as hell don't grow none nor manufacture any. I don't think I've broken a law in years. I don't poach. The federal cock-suckers just opened fire. They shot my wife in the face. Blew her brains all over the wall.” Jody started howling like a wild animal, thrashing around on the ground, snarling and gnashing his teeth, kicking and fighting his bonds.

“Inspector,” the agent handling the radio called. “Jack Speed, Kathy Owens, and the schoolteacher are now in the hospital. Jack and the teacher are in the operating rooms now. Kathy was given a sedative and is resting comfortably.”

“That's good,” Hank said.

“But something is really fouled up, Inspector,” he said a few minutes later. “I can't get through. I think we're being jammed.”

“Jammed?” Carol asked.

“Yes, ma'am. And the dish is missing. I can't bounce off satellite.”

“I want a head count right now!” Special Agent Augello said. “Sound off.”

One man was missing.

“Interesting,” Hank mused softly. “Max planted one of his people in your team, Will.”

“Looks like it.”

“Doesn't matter. Max's game is over. We've got a chopper coming in to take us out at first light.”

“Don't get on it,” Darry spoke. “This Max person has got to be getting desperate by now. And choppers are easy to bring down.”

“That is something to think about,” Carol said.

“Yes,” Hank agreed. “Unfortunately.”

“Break camp and move out,” Darry suggested. “I damn sure intend to clear out of here. Build up the fires and pretend as if we're all going to sleep. Then one by one, ease out of camp. I know a place.”

“I'm going to blow the lid right off of this atrocity,” Stormy said. “You are witnessing a changed person.”

“It's about time,” Ki said with a smile.

* * *

As with so many hastily conceived cover-ups, by dawn, Max found himself with thirty-five people who would stick by him. An hour later, that number was down to twenty-five as the major networks broke the story and the American people sat at the breakfast nooks and in their dens over coffee and listened to the stunning news that several federal government enforcement agencies had attacked and killed and wounded innocent people and then tried to cover it up. They watched and listened as Craig Hamilton told of being roughed up and shot at. They took in his bruised face where Max and others had hammered on him. By noon, the damning film of the attack on the survivalist camp was on the air, followed by Dr. Ray Collier, Karen Collier, Kevin Carmouche, and his family and friends. Then came Rangers Battle and Follette, telling of being roughed up and locked up by federal agents. Then the schoolteacher had her bitter comments to make in front of the cameras, and certain individuals in Washington cringed at her statements.

Then the cameras showed the shot-up cabins of Kevin and Todd and Vince and Jody, and you could almost hear the groans coming from in and around the nation's capital.

On through the day and into the night it went, and things were so jumbled and confused in that area of the Idaho wilderness, with outposts and roadblocks being very quickly brought down and the agents vanishing like smoke, Sam Parish and his followers were forgotten until it was too late. Parish and the remaining mercenaries slipped out. Max Vernon found himself facing about two dozen different felony counts, and he and fifteen of his rogue agents slipped away into the night, all of them now wanted fugitives and all heavily armed.

Stormy looked around for Darry; but she really didn't expect to find him, and she was not disappointed. At dawn, she went back to his cabin. The cabin felt deserted. She knew that Darry and Pete and Repeat were gone.

“Damn!”
she said.

Back at the ranger station, she asked Rick, “Do you think he'll be back?”

“Who?” Rick asked innocently.

“Darry Ransom. Dammit, Rick! You know who I mean.”

“I never heard of him,” the ranger said.

* * *

Miles north of the Salmon River, Darry sat with George Eagle Dancer at a rest stop. Pete and Repeat had been fed, watered, and were now back inside the camper shell on Darry's pickup truck, safely out of sight.

“What are you going to do now, George?” Darry asked.

“Lay low for a time. But I am through with war. I have saved many thousands of dollars over the bloody years... more than enough to see me through to the grave. But you, now, that is quite another matter. You realize that Max Vernon and the other agents who went along with his scheme will be seeking revenge, as will Sam Parish and probably those men I came into the area with. And don't forget Robert Roche; he will never give up his hunt for you.”

Darry smiled. “I've been chased for seven centuries, George. I wouldn't know how to act if somebody wasn't after me.”

“When will it ever end, my friend?”

Darry sighed. “I don't know. Someday, surely.”

“We have been listening to the news on radio, and watching the television at night in our motel rooms; it's very strange that your name has not been mentioned.”

“Stormy will never give up her hunt for me. That is a very determined woman. But there are other, stranger things about this. The government is remaining silent about any charges other than those placed against Max Vernon and his hard-core bunch. And I don't understand that. Big government is almost always very vindictive. Something is going on. I just don't know what.”

* * *

“Cutting through all the BS,” Dr. Ray Collier said bluntly, “you want a deal, is that it?”

The spokesman from the Justice Department smiled. “That's such a crude term, Doctor. But, frankly, yes.”

The expression on Karen's face was a mixture of disgust and loathing.

“And if we don't deal?” Ray asked.

“Your son killed two federal agents,” another Justice Department official said. “It's not nice to kill people.”

“The second man was shot in the leg by his partner and fell off the bluff,” Ray replied. “Paul shot a man who was preparing to kill his mother.”

“You say,” the first man spoke with a smugness that made Karen want to slap his face.

“That's right!” Ray popped back, his temper rapidly reaching the redline. “We say. There were witnesses.”

“Shaggy-haired, dope-smoking, hippie trash. Drop-outs from society. We'll tell you right now, they won't testify for the defense. We did a thorough search of their filthy cabins. We found all sorts of dope. Enough to put them all behind bars for years.”

“I don't believe that!” Karen said.

The two men and the woman from the Justice Department smiled. The woman said, “I assure you we have the evidence.”

“If you do, you planted it there,” Karen said, her eyes burning with anger.

“Now, Mrs. Collier, that is a very serious accusation. Your government does not ‘plant' evidence.”

“Sick and evil.” Terri Collier spoke for the first time. “That pretty well sums up our government.”

“Why don't you run along outside and play, dear,” the woman said.

“Why don't you kiss my ass!” the teenager popped right back.

Both parents were suddenly very proud of their youngest chick. Three weeks back, Ray and Karen would have been appalled and would have immediately grounded her for saying such a thing. Now they smiled.

The woman from Justice did not lose her composure. She was too skilled a stooge for the government . . . among other things. “Awful things happen to young, sweet boys behind bars. But I'm sure you both know about that.”

“You . . .
filth!”
Karen spat out the words. She had sensed immediately and accurately that this severely dressed woman was a man hater from way back.

The three from Justice stood up as if controlled by one mind . . . which, of course, they were. Programmable robots with brown spots on their noses. “Do think about it,” the parents were told.

A few hours later, when the mail arrived, Ray and Karen Collier received a registered letter from the Internal Revenue Service, informing them that their assets were frozen and they were under investigation for defrauding the government . . . among other charges.

* * *

For several decades, certain members of the government, who belonged to a certain political party, had taken the entire press corps for granted for too long. They became complacent. Certain government officials were well aware that the press was sickeningly over-loaded with hanky-twisting, foot-stamping, boo-hooing liberals who knew just how far to push elected and appointed members of the government . . . unless they were conservative, and then, in most cases, it was open season on them—any—thing goes . . . humiliate them . . . dig up bones and expose them. And we'll help you do anything you can to shut up those nasty ol' conservatives who don't know when to back off.

Even murder?

Well . . . let's not phrase it in such a vulgar manner.

Extreme prejudice sounds so much more civilized.

After all, one must remember, we're only doing this for the good of the country.

Right?

* * *

Stormy gently hung up the phone after speaking with Karen Collier. Karen had called from a pay phone, certain that her own phone in her home had been tapped by the government. Stormy had put the call on speaker so all in the suite could hear.

“It sucks!” she said to Ki and Craig. The three were staying at a Los Angeles hotel.

The camera-person and the network reporter sat and stared at their friend. They both knew they were witnessing a dramatic metamorphosis. They also knew that when Stormy sank her teeth into a story, only death would break the bulldog grip.

“We'll be putting our careers on the line,” Craig reminded her.

“So I go back to work in Springfield,” Ki said. “Big fuckin' deal. Maybe I'd sleep better at night.”

“It'll be us against them,” Craig said. “You both better realize that right now.”

“Maybe we could get Darry in on this,” Ki said.

“Darry hates all governments,” Stormy replied. “Every aspect of big government. And he's had the time on earth to see that they all eventually turn rotten. Don't think for one instant I've forgotten Darry Ransom.”

“The problem is—one of the problems, that is—will the network back us?” Craig asked. “Considering the FCC can shut them down at a whim.”