Uncertain Justice

Chapter 24

"Gentlemen, that's four or five miles in any direction away from the starting point. If I remember my high school geometry, we've got between fifty and seventy-five square miles to search right now, and it's only going to get worse. While we've been talking, we've added a couple more square miles that we're gonna have to go over inch by inch." Sheriff Barton backed away from the map to let others absorb what he'd said. He paused, glaring at the offending map.

"Remember, we don't have any idea what route this guy is taking, how fast he's moving or if he is moving. If we don't get a real big break, we're going to have to look behind every tree, every bush, and every rock in that circle because we won't know whether he's there or not until we check.

"And while we're doing that ... he could be traveling as fast as his legs can go getting away from us or he could get a comfortable distance away from where he was seen and go to ground ... and only he knows which." He studied a sky dissolving slowly from blue to black.

"Pretty soon, it's going to be pitch dark out here and there aren't any streetlights out here. If it turns cloudy--and it probably will at this time of year--you won't be able to see your hand in front of your face without a flashlight. Inside an hour, even with a light, he could be standing a couple yards away and if you aren't shining it right at him, you won't see 'im.

"If he's real unfriendly ... well, we could have even bigger problems. Do we know if this guy is carrying?" He turned to the state patrol officer for an answer.

"Underwood is supposed to have a shotgun and a .357 Magnum revolver. The guy we want was seen with a shotgun but there was no report of a pistol at all," the state trooper commander mused. "We don't know about any other weapons."

He snorted. "Hell, we're only assuming they're the same person. Could be we got a couple o' crazies wandering around southern Colorado. Wouldn't surprise me all that much ... who knows?" He shrugged his shoulders expressively.

"Yeah ... well...," continued the sheriff, "we do know a couple things. If the guy the chopper crew saw is our man, he surprised two officers over by La Junta at gunpoint, took their side arms away from them, and put both in their own handcuffs.

"Before that, he shot a District Attorney down in Texas. That takes a particular brand of cojones you don't see every day. People ... do not make the mistake of thinking this guy is afraid of you. He isn't and he's proved it already."

The sheriff quit talking and began to fold the map. He'd repeated himself some but, overall, he was pleased he'd been able to get a lot of information across.

"I'd like to piggyback on a couple things you mentioned, Sheriff." Winters paused to get his thoughts in order. "One, if this is Underwood, he's a twenty-year veteran of the U.S. Army. He's familiar with firearms and we'd better assume he's pretty good at using them. Second...."

He paused to find the words he wanted.

"Second, like Sheriff Barton said ... and again, if this is Underwood and if he's the man who kidn*pped those two cops ... he's demonstrated a couple of times he won't hesitate to get into ... ahhhh ... potentially violent confrontations. We're not hunting for rabbits out here. Be careful! Consider this man armed and super, super dangerous. Everyone stay alert and we'll get this guy. Remember your officer safety, okay?"

The group of state troopers, sheriff's deputies, and several forest rangers, had all been quiet while Sheriff Barton and Commander Winters laid things out for them. A few raised their eyes to inspect the high mountains surrounding them. It was getting colder by the minute. Some reflected on the fact their wives and girlfriends could be waiting for them with hot dinners and welcoming arms right about now. Two reserve deputies wished they'd invested in a better grade of Kevlar vest.

"Anyway ... thanks, Sheriff. Fifty square miles? Lot of territory," concluded the senior state trooper. He was deliberately working on his people skills ... time to mend some fences.

He looked around to include the rest of the group in the discussion. "It's not going to be easy," he remarked, "but I can't see us just sitting around not doing anything until morning. Our air support will be back overhead in 15 minutes or so. I think we need to push this guy while we have the chance. Otherwise, we may never see him again.

"Anything else?" He waited. "I'm open to suggestions here."

One or two in the group shuffled their feet and pretended fascination in the mountain peaks high above them. They directed their gaze everywhere except toward the commander. Others frowned as they considered what they could contribute.

"Uh ... how sure are we of the place where the 'copter first saw the guy?" The young deputy who spoke had been one of the frowners.

"Pretty darn certain, actually." The reply came from the sergeant who had been designated as liaison for the air operations and had talked at length with the pilot as the chopper left the scene to refuel at Salida's airport. "They evidently caught him crossing one of those cleared areas that run under the power lines. He was right beside one of the big steel towers, they said."

"Well...." The deputy hesitated in the presence of so many senior personnel before plunging ahead. "Curt Barnett over in Mustang Springs has those dogs he's trained for huntin' and I heard he's done some trackin' tryin' to find folks that get lost. I don't know, but maybe he could help find this guy with them dogs. Ya reckon? I mean ... if they have a place where they know the guy's been, shouldn't it be pretty easy to find his trail?" He was asking more than he was telling, but Commander Winters didn't hesitate.

"Good idea." If they could get an idea of which direction the man was fleeing, that would cut down the area they had to search considerably. The commander walked over to the cruiser he'd driven to the pass and spoke on the radio for a couple of minutes.

"Hey, son," he called to the young deputy, "can you tell my dispatcher how to get to where that guy Barnett lives?" As the young man stumbled closer, the commander handed the microphone to him and walked back to the group.