Whirlwind by Joseph Garber

Author:Joseph Garber [Garber, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-13T08:00:00+00:00

-7 Betrayals

Wednesday, July 22. 1930 Hours Mountain Time

Arizona, early evening on a lonely road. Sam heard the two men’s voices long before he saw them. Hell, you probably could hear them in the next county: “This is a federal matter, Captain! Order your troopers out of that canyon!”

The speaker was tenor, shrill with frustration; the answerer, big and basso with a beefeater’s tones: “Get that tin badge out of my face, junior! This is a state investigation!”

With Johan Schmidt by his side, Sam picked up his pace, jogging around a blue-striped, white Chevy Blazer to confront two lawmen on the verge of a fist fight. One of them was a rangy Marlboro man wearing a beige Stetson and a crisp poplin uniform. The other was a charcoal-suited FBI lad straight from central casting Ethan Hawke, Ben Affleck, Jude Law, take your pick because who can tell the difference?

They stood at cliff’s edge above a valley turned wheat-gold by approaching dusk. To Sam’s eyes it looked like the cop was about to make the FBI munch king part of the scenery. He glanced at Schmidt. “You’d better handle this.”

Shaking his head, Schmidt faded back into the shadows. His whisper hung in the air like forgotten perfume. “I do not show my face to law enforcement officers. Never, and under no circumstances. This is your problem, Samuel. Solve it.”

Squaring his shoulders, Sam stepped forward. “Gentlemen,” he said, donning his most diplomatic smile.

“And just who the hell are you?” His nameplate identified him as Captain Thornton of the Highway Patrol, and Captain Thornton was not a happy man. “This is a crime site. No civilians allowed.”

You ignorant country hick, Sam thought. “Who am I?” he replied sharply. “I am the president’s national security advisor, that’s who I am.”

“And I, jackoff, am the merry queen of the May.” Thornton laid his hand on his pistol butt. “Now, mister Security Advisor, you’d do yourself a service by getting out of my face. Better yet, get out of my state.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Sam flipped his wallet open, displaying an identification card in a plasticine window.

Thornton eyed a professionally lit photograph, a presidential seal stamped in Williamsburg blue, a legend across the top proclaiming Office of the President, United States of America. He became mighty quiet mighty fast.

Humiliation and anger, Sam reflected, are a dangerous combination. Best not to make a proud man lose face. “Captain,” he said with forced cordiality, “I empathize with your situation, I genuinely do. Under normal circumstances no federal agency would intrude in an accident investigation “

“SOC team down there says it’s no accident.”

With practiced piety Sam whispered, “The matter is more grave than I anticipated.”

“Three dead men, one woman pretty damned close. Yes sir, I’d call that grave.”

Sam felt a jolt of pleasure at the word “woman.” If Kolodenkova was at the valley’s bottom, so was Whirlwind. “All the more reason to sort out who has jurisdiction in a matter involving stakes higher than you know. Were those stakes

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