The Switch (46 page)

She continued, concluding with, "Maybe Chief and I are being a little paranoid about tracking devices and such, but we don't think so. We've seen these people—whoever they are and whomever they represent—in action. As sure as I'm sitting here, they murdered Linda Croft and Jem Hennings."

"Hennings admitted to us that he facilitated some kind of genetic engineering scheme," Chief s
aid. "He referred to it as the 'P
rogram.' The implication is unthinkable, especially when you consider the extent of Brother Gabriel's ministry."

During the entire telling, Longtree had sat as motionless and silent as a mountain. Then he spoke for the first time. "And you have little doubt that he's behind this plot?"

"We don't know," Melina answered honestly. "I hate to incriminate anyone of something so heinous if it's not true. But Jem admitted that he and Dale Gordon worked for Brother Gabriel. Patients of the clinic, who meet a certain criteria, are inseminated with sperm that may not be from the donor of their choosing. That was Gordon's job. If the woman conceives, someone like Jem nurtures her through the pregnancy to see that nothing goes awry."

"Like sleeping with me," Chief added bitterly. "Brother Gabriel preaches about establishing a new world order. In my opinion, that fits with the baby-making scenario and explains why he wants the conception of these children to be controlled and remain pure."

"I'm convinced that if Gillian had conceived and stayed with Jem for the duration of her pregnancy, the baby would have been kidnapped just like the Andersons' baby," Melina told Longtree. "We know Jem didn't want me to talk to the FBI."

"I started out thinking the orders to shut us up came from Hennings," Chief said. "But after seeing what happened to him... Because of my military training, I would guess the orders are coming straight from the top."

After a time of reflection, Longtree asked, "These kidnapped children, where are they taken? For what purpose?"

"That's what we came here to determine," Chief said. "Brother Gabriel's compound isn't far from here, relatively speaking. What do you know about it?"

"The Temple is about a hundred miles as the crow flies. What I know about him isn't good." Longtree's expression turned even more grim than usual. "He, or rather his ministry, crooked one of the tribes out of some land. He wanted their mountain. They wouldn't sell. I think he coerced a tribal leader into selling the land out from under his own people."

"How?"

"What I know for fact, apart from rumor, is that the chief had two daughters. Beautiful, accomplished young women. One allegedly committed suicide just before the chief relented and sold the property."

Melina pounced. "Allegedly?"

Longtree's shrug was eloquent. "That was the ruling. Some questioned it. The chief's other daughter severed all ties with her family and friends and ran away to join Brother Gabriel's ministry. The last I heard, she was living in the Temple, which is built on property that once belonged to the people she has denounced. There was a lot of speculation over the level of Brother Gabriel's involvement in the dual tragedy. But the coincidence is too compelling to ignore."

Chief looked across at Melina. "I think the son of a bitch is more diabolical than we've given him credit for."

She asked Longtree if he thought people were being held in the compound against their will.

"I doubt they're held in chains. But mind control can be an even stronger shackle."

"Has Brother Gabriel ever been investigated?" Chief asked.

"By law enforcement, you mean?" The older man shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. State and local police leave him alone. He's a taxpaying, law-abiding citizen. The federal bureaus don't want another Waco."

"Besides, Brother Gabriel preaches good citizenship," Melina observed. "He's not anti-government. At least not overtly."

Chief noticed that even as she was speaking, her eyes were closed and she was massaging her forehead. She looked as though sitting up required more energy than she had. `Before we storm the Temple, we've got to get some rest."

She looked over at him. "I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not. Is there someplace we can get a few hours' sleep?" he asked Longtree.

Chief remained in the kitchen while Longtree showed

Melina where she could bunk down. He was at the sink running hot water over their dirty dishes when Longtree returned. "Don't bother, Colonel Hart."

"Chief. And it's the least I can do."

They worked together for several minutes until all the things had been cleared from the table and the dishes were soaking in soapy water. "I'll finish them later," Longtree said. "Would you like another cup of coffee?"

"No, thanks. I've got to try and get some shut-eye myself." But he made no move toward the door leading to the other rooms of the house. Instead, he returned to the table. Longtree took the chair across from him and waited him out.

Chief found it uncomfortable to meet the other man's eyes. "This isn't what I expected."

"This?"

Chief looked around the kitchen. "I expected...”

One side of Longtree's narrow lips tilted up into a half smile. "Something nicer."

"I thought you were wealthy."

"George Abbott's idea."

"I see," Chief said, although he didn't.

"George wanted to make a good impression on you. He thought you'd be won over more easily if we didn't appear quite so needy. We pooled our resources to buy me the new suit. Waste of money. Where am I going to wear it?" He smiled again. "I guess I can be buried in it."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I have a law degree, but my clients are poor. I run a very small herd of beef cattle."

"You live here alone?"

"My wife died twenty-six years ago."

Chief lowered his gaze, chagrined over bringing up something that caused Longtree such obvious pain. He didn't expect him to expound and was surprised when he did.

"She was pregnant with our first child. It had been a happy, uncomplicated pregnancy. She went into labor. I got her to the
reservation clinic in time, but it turned out to be a difficult delivery. The clinic was ill-equipped and understaffed to handle that kind of emergency. For years the council had been petitioning for funds to improve and update it, but our request had been repeatedly denied.

"My wife's condition rapidly worsened. There was no time to take her to another facility or to get an obstetric doctor here. As I watched, helpless to do anything, she bled to death. My son was cut out of her, but the cord was wrapped around his neck. He never drew a breath. I buried them together."

The wall clock ticked abnormally loud in the resulting silence. Chief eventually stirred. "I'm sorry I made you think about it."

"Don't be. I went a little crazy for a while, but I recovered. Eventually. Since then, even to now, whenever I think about it my resolve to improve life on the reservations is revived. I think the spirits use their deaths to keep my determination alive."

Chief looked hard at Longtree and saw a man of conviction. Why hadn't he recognized it before? Why hadn't he seen past the expensive suit into the heart of the man wearing it? "Why did you let me go on believing in the pretense?"

"It served our purpose, although not in the way George planned. Afterward, I was glad I had agreed to the slight deception, because your reaction to it revealed the character I had hoped to see in you. It was evident that you're a man of integrity."

Chief gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "You touched some sensitive spots. You started me thinking."

Longtree nodded approval. "I'd hate for your opinion of me, good or bad, to be the basis of your decision. I happen to think that you were sent to us. To our advocacy group. To help. To work toward bringing Native Americans into the twenty-first century with our pride, dignity, and heritage intact.

"Some feel that we can't achieve the former without forsaking the latter. I don't. I do not believe that our heritage must be sacrificed in order for us to move ahead and join the rest of the modern world.

"Regrettably, many of our people have victimized themselves. They've used being Indian as an excuse for their personal weaknesses. Alcoholism, depression, a lack of ambition.

"I qualify that by stating that the underlying cause for these weaknesses is very real. We're still subject to flagrant and hateful racial prejudice. Did you know that Indians are victims of violent crimes at twice the rate of other Americans? Crimes that are inflicted on us by members of other races, not by other Indians. That's not just my opinion. The statistics are there. We have enemies. We're self-defeating. On both fronts, there's much that needs to be done."

"I'm not the man to do it, Chief Longtree," Chief said earnestly.

"You wouldn't have asked for help last night if you didn't feel a kinship with us."

"I'm only half, you know."

"So was Quanah Parker."

Chief smiled fondly at the memory of his mother's stories about their famous ancestor. Like a language, Chief didn't remember a time when he didn't know about nine-year-old Cynthia Ann Parker being kidnapped from Parker's Fort, Texas, in 1836 by raiding Comanche. By the time she was a teenager, she had learned their language and adapted their customs. She married Chief Peta Nacona and bore him three children, two sons and a daughter.

She lived with the Comanche for twenty-four years before being recaptured by Texas Rangers and, along with her daughter, restored to her family. She never readjusted, however, and died shortly after the death of her daughter. Legend maintained that she died of a broken heart over the separation from her husband and sons.

Quanah was in his teens when his mother was recaptured. He succeeded his father as chief and became a feared warrior.

For years he waged vicious warfare against the Army, to which he never lost a single battle.

But in 1875, with his provisions depleted, he surrendered and moved his people to Fort Sill in present-day Oklahoma. Greatly influenced by his mother and the way in which she had adopted the Comanche life, Quanah did the reverse. He took her surname and encouraged his people to acclimate to Anglo culture. They learned to farm. The English-speaking Chief Quanah Parker established schools and was appointed a reservation judge. He counted President Theodore Roosevelt as a friend. The once-ferocious warrior became a statesman. He still waged war on behalf of his people, but his battlefield was the floor of Congress.

"Some Comanche distrusted Quanah for being half-white, you know," Longtree said. "He was resented for adopting the white man's way of life. Should you join us, you won't be without your critics among Native Americans. But who in the public eye doesn't have opponents? Speaking strictly for myself, I see your mixed blood as an advantage. As it was for Quanah Parker."

After a moment of reflection, Chief said, "I'll think about it."

"That's the only promise I ask of you."

"No strings for your hospitality today?"

"I wouldn't trust you if such a small favor could so easily sway an important decision." They sat for a time with only the ticking clock to break the ponderous silence. When Longtree spoke again, he switched subjects. "Gillian, the twin, you liked her?"

The old man's eyes seemed to drill straight into him, demanding undiluted honesty. Chief heard himself saying, "Yes. I liked her a lot."

Longtree nodded sagely, then switched the subject again. "What is your strategy from here?"

"To go to the Temple and confront Brother Gabriel." Longtree frowned. "I don't think it'll be that simple. There are guarded security gates, I'm told. Cameras and such. How do you intend to get in?"

"Any suggestions?"

"The sheriff up there is a man named Max Ritchey. He cooperates with the reservation police force. Seems like a reasonable man. You could start with him."

"I appreciate the tip." Chief stood and stretched. "I'm beat. If you'll excuse me, I've got to get some sleep. Would you mind if I showered?"

"You'll have to ask Melina. The bathroom is attached to the bedroom."

"Okay."

"I'll be leaving soon to attend to some business and won't be back until midafternoon. Make yourselves at home."

Knowing that Longtree would be uncomfortable with an effusive display of gratitude, Chief said simply, "Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome."

He was on his way through the door when Longtree called him back, for the first time addressing him as Chief instead of colonel. He turned. "Yeah?"

The older man said, "Quanah Parker didn't relinquish every aspect of Comanche life. To the consternation of the BIA, he practiced polygamy."

Chief raised one shoulder in a half shrug of misapprehension.

Longtree said, "Apparently your kinsman thought it was possible to be in love with two women at the same time. I thought it might relieve you to know that."

CHAPTER 33

He knocked. "Come in."

Melina was bending from the waist, head upside down, toweling her hair dry. She was in bra and panties, nothing else, and the sight of so much flesh stopped Chief in his tracks. "Sorry. I thought you said to come in."