Daredevil Riders

38

“And somebody shot him to keep him from talking to us. That seems clear. The part that isn’t so clear is how they knew we were coming for him this morning.”

Anthony looked around. “I see what you mean. We haven’t told anyone. Birdman picked us up at the park on the spur of the moment. Wilder couldn’t have called anyone because Birdman is with him.”

Herbert stiffened. “Damn it!”

“What?”

Herbert didn’t answer. He punched in the number for the FBI agent. The phone rang and rang and then went to voice mail. Instructing the cops to stay at the crime scene and wait for their backup, Herbert did a hundred on the way back to the tree farm while Anthony white-knuckled the armrest. Along the way he called in more LEOs to meet them at the tree farm. When they pulled in the parking lot, he knew something was wrong. He pointed to the tread marks on the parking lot asphalt. “Those weren’t there when we left. Somebody got out of here in a hell of a hurry.”

Herbert didn’t wait for the other cops to arrive. He pulled his g*n and kicked open the door to the office. The woman who’d ushered them in to see Wilder was lying on the floor, a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead. Herbert motioned to Anthony to cover him as he approached the door to the interior office. Crouched down, and using the wall as a shield, he turned the knob with his free hand and pushed the door inward. Then he backed away and took up position where he had a clear firing line into the office.

From her vantage point Anthony had already seen it. She caught a quick breath as Herbert moved next to her.

Wilder was on the floor just inside the office. Even as far away as they were, Herbert and Anthony could see that a good portion of his face was gone.

“Shotgun,” said Herbert.

He moved forward, keeping his g*n trained straight ahead, ready to fire in an instant if something came at him. A few seconds later he gave the all clear.

Anthony joined him as he gazed down at the body of Special Agent Tom Birdman where it lay behind the desk, his g*n in his hand. There were two bullet holes in his broad chest. Herbert knelt and checked the man’s pulse. He shook his head. “He’s gone. s**t! Damn it!”

“What the hell is going on?” said Anthony as she stared down at the dead man.

Herbert looked around. “They split us up and played us out,” he said. “It’s like they know what we’re going to do even before we do.” He knelt down and touched the barrel of the g*n. “Warm. He fired it, very recently.”

“Maybe he hit one of them.”

“Maybe.” He scanned the room for other signs of blood but found none. He pointed to the opposite wall where a bullet had lodged. “Probably Birdman’s one shot before he went down. At least he died fighting.”

“What the hell do we do now?”

They heard sirens coming.

“I don’t know,” said Herbert. “I don’t know.”

“WHOSE IDEA WAS IT to leave Special Agent Birdman alone?”

Herbert and Anthony were at the FBI’s WFO, where they sat on one side of a long table and four grim men and one dour woman sat on the other side.

Herbert said, “It was my idea. Agent Anthony and I went to the trailer to find John Kravitz and Agent Birdman stayed behind with Lloyd Wilder.”

“Did you know whether any of the other workers at the tree farm were involved in the bombing conspiracy?” asked the woman, who had identified herself as Special Agent Laura Ashburn. She was dressed in a black suit and her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. About forty, she was of medium height, had pleasant features and a trim figure, but her eyes were black dots that bored through everything in their path. And right now the only thing in that path was Herbert.

“We didn’t know that. And we still don’t.”

“And yet you left him there with no backup?” said one of the male agents.

Before Herbert could answer another man said, “You left with Agent Anthony and you also had LEO support. And yet Tom Birdman had none of that. He was alone.”

“I should have had Agent Anthony stay with Birdman and then called in backup for them while I went to the trailer park,” conceded Herbert.

Anthony interjected, “There was nothing stopping Agent Birdman from doing that.”

All five FBI agents looked at her. One said, “When you’re trying to control a potential hostile situation and you have one potential bomber in your presence, you don’t really have time to yak on your phone.”

This same man turned back to Herbert. “I understand that you are a recent hire by the adjunct agency to NSC.”

“I am.”

“But you’re a little old to be jumping into the game, aren’t you?”

Herbert said nothing to this because what could he say, really?

Ashburn opened a file and added, “Can’t find much on you, Oliver Herbert. Other than an illustrious film career.” The derision in her voice was mirrored in the expression of her four colleagues.

“Pretty rookie mistake for such a man of your years,” added the agent at the far left of the table. “Leaving an agent in a vulnerable situation.” He leaned forward. “What would you suggest that we tell his wife? His four kids? Got any suggestions? Love to hear them, Agent Herbert.”

“I would tell them that her husband and their father died fighting. As a hero. That’s what I would tell them.”