Chapter 15

Sifu, Colleen and I settled into our seats, and the chartered aircraft rolled down the runway.

Have you monitored your advance team, Morgan? Sifu asked silently.

Off and on, I replied. Like you, I had other business tasks to handle here in Phoenix. I found my Referral Source List, by the way.

He nodded. Tell me what about Brogan's ranch.

It's a stronghold similar to Karsh's setup in Vegas, except it's much larger. The ranch is 36,000 acres, most of it open range for grazing cattle. Fences and Mother Nature define the stronghold. A steep bluff, created - I think - by the heaving of the earth eons ago, runs along the eastern boundary of the stronghold. Leo and Heather command a lookout point on this bluff. The south fence is an eight-foot high, solid wall punctured by the main access gates on the east side fairly close to the bluff. There's an unmanned gatehouse just inside the wall. The west and north walls are the same height as the south wall but are chain-link fences topped with concertina wire. Fifteen feet inside the chain-link fences, Brogan installed a second chain-link fence. Dogs constantly roam the area between the fences. There's a kennel at the northwest corner of the property inside the interior fence. Also, Heather believes the interior fence is electrified. The dogs stay away from that fence, but not the exterior fence.

The main ranch buildings are all inside this fenced and bluff contained area. A winding road bisects the stronghold from front to back. A barn and three corrals sit in the northwest sector. A large hayshed is located in the northeast corner, and building for machinery storage and repair is situated south of the hayshed. The bunkhouse, ranch kitchen, and wrangler dining room are located south of the machinery building. Heather believes Brogan purposefully segregates the ranch hands from the occupants of the main ranch house. The bisecting road helps.

The main house was constructed on the southwest corner of the stronghold. It's a large residence, two stories, and there's a carriage house to the right, with garages on the ground level and housing for two bodyguards, a cook and a housekeeper over the garages.

There's a swimming pool at the rear of the house with a bathhouse on the right. No tennis courts. Brogan lands his helicopter on a pad in the center of the circular driveway in front of the main house. The no-man's land does not turn at the solid wall. It butts into the wall. It also ends at the north gate. Brogan maintains a pasture for his horses in front of the main house. Besides cattle ranching, he breeds, trains and sells quarter horses.

What about personnel? Sifu asked.

Leo and Heather have photographed four wranglers, the ranch cook, and a man they call the farmer. Brogan grows and harvests his own hay. We suspect there are more ranch hands. Gary and Maria saw some cowboys rounding up some cattle outside the stronghold. I've mentioned the two bodyguards, housekeeper and cook at the main house. We believe Brogan, Joel, Nick, Linda, a female assassin, the helicopter pilot, and the ranch foreman occupy the main house. Robyn is working with her friend at the LVPD to put names on the personnel we don't know, but all she has to work with are digital photographs Heather e-mailed her.

Do you have a plan? Sifu asked.

I laughed. Plan A is evolving. At the moment, I don't have a glimmer of an idea for Plan B.

Give me the bare bones of Plan A.

Make a solo, silent incursion, initiate as many telepathic connections as possible with the personnel in the stronghold, and then sneak out without leaving a trace.

Sifu chuckled. You should rethink Plan A, or start putting together Plan B.

That would be my advice, Colleen said.

Ruben met us at the Henderson Executive Airport and drove us to the mansion.

"Did Carlos leave this morning?" I asked.

"Yes. He drove away in the ambulance van about an hour ago, and before you ask, the helicopter is sitting on the mansion's front lawn." Ruben chuckled. "You and Sifu will need to spar somewhere else tomorrow morning."

"Tell me about the helicopter and pilot."

"The helicopter seats eight. According to Diane Keeny, the pilot, it's a MD 600N. MD stands for MacDonald Douglas, but Boeing swallowed MacDonald Douglas whole not long ago, so I guess it's a Boeing aircraft now. That's all I know about the helicopter. If you want to know more, talk with Diane. She's an attractive brunette in her early forties. She flew helicopters in the first Gulf War. Jasper says she's the best there is."

I grinned. "Jasper hasn't steered me wrong yet. That's good enough for me."

"Michelle wants to meet with you. She says you're a hero now, not a villain, and that she's no longer needed. I think she plans to tell you that she'll hang around off the clock with Tim for a few days in case you need her during or after the Brogan siege." He took his eyes off the road and looked at me. "Morgan, I find it amazing that you command such loyalty from professionals like Tim and Michelle. What's your secret?"

"Hah! I pay them well and in advance."

That's not fair, cowboy, Colleen commented silently.

True, sorry.

"I also treat them with respect, Ruben, and yes, they're loyal." I huffed a cynical laugh. "More importantly, I present interesting problems in their respective fields. I'd wager most of Tim's clients are not only guilty but also on the wrong side of right and wrong. I might be guilty of bending, stretching or even breaking a few laws, but I wear a white hat. Tim gets a kick out of the legal challenges I present. Michelle sees me as a vigilante, and vigilantes make good press. What's more, Michelle gets a kick out of poking authority figures in the eye. Tim, too. That's why he's a defense attorney instead of a prosecutor. So, my secret isn't really a secret, Ruben. Pay professionals well and in advance, respect them, give them interesting problems to solve, and at the same time, give them opportunities to poke the establishment in the eye, and you'll command the same loyalty from them."

Sifu chuckled. "Morgan facilitates their processes, Ruben. He doesn't intrude. He doesn't control them. He trusts them." He paused and smiled. "Most importantly, he pays well and in advance."

Colleen giggled.

"Be nice, grasshopper," Sifu said.

"From the aerials and reports from Heather and Gary, the only way into the stronghold is from the bluff to the east," Ruben said, "and the bluff presents some serious obstacles, perhaps insurmountable impediments."

We were at the mansion reviewing intel and trying to develop a plan to take Brogan down.

"What about this gorge?" I asked, pointing at an aerial photograph. "It starts near the top of the bluff and drops and spreads into the stronghold."

"It's booby-trapped, and the fifty yards from the bottom of the bluff from north to south is open and covered with surveillance cameras, infrared as well as standard. Heather and Gary spotted cameras on the hayshed, the machinery structure, the bunkhouse and the gatehouse. They cover the open fifty yards along the bluff and part of the bluff, itself. I say the bluff is the only way in because cameras cover the open two hundred yards to the south, west and north of the perimeter fence. Two hundred yards, Morgan, not fifty. Dogs roam the no-man's land to the west and north, and we'd need to deal with concertina wire, to boot. That leaves the south fence as an entry point, and although the twenty feet from inside that block wall to the pasture fence looks benign, I suspect..."

"Landmines," I muttered.

"Maybe," Ruben said. "Probably. Otherwise why not take the pasture to the wall?"

I nodded. "Which leaves the bluff, but we can't rappel down the bluff because cameras cover the bluff," I commented.

"That's the way I see it."

"Are those cameras in rifle range?" I asked.

"Yes, but three expert shooters from three different vantage points along the bluff would be needed, and the second we take them out, Brogan would know we've arrived."

I bit my lower lip with my upper teeth and studied the aerial maps for the umpteenth time. "Considering our resources, Ruben, how would you take this stronghold?"

He shook his head. "We need more resources."

"Tell me. What resources?"

"Another shooter. Two would be better, and if only as diversions, I'd take out the south and north gates simultaneously with RPGs."

I chuckled. "That would certainly announce our presence."

He laughed. "That's for sure. Morgan, I see no way to make a silent entry."

I pursed my lips. "Maybe."

"Tell me," he said.

I told him what I had in mind.

"That might work. We'll see when we're on the bluff tomorrow," he said.

"No, call Heather and tell her to check the range today."

"All right."

"Has Robyn identified any of the players at Brogan's ranch?" I asked, changing the subject.

"One of the bodyguards. His name is John Ender. He's an ex-con but isn't wanted for breaking parole. Captain Johnson identified the ranch foreman, another ex-con named Mathew Bailand."

"Are they members of the Aryan Brotherhood, like Karsh's bunch?"

"No. They are registered sex offenders, though."

I grimaced. "Perverts, huh? That doesn't surprise me."

I started to walk away but turned back to him. "Talk to Dean about my idea. We'll need a launcher, and just in case, mention your idea about taking out the gates with RPGs."

Ruben looked shocked. "Ah, Morgan, I wasn't serious..."

"Do it. The terror value of some rocket grenades might make a difference. We won't use them against personnel, but they won't know that."

Colleen looked pensive, and being a mind reader, I knew what was bothering her. She'd just finished a telephone conversation with her mother.

"Whatever it takes," I said.

"Esther moved in with her," Colleen said.

"I know. This bothers you. Why?"

She shook her head and said nothing.

I waited.

She said, "They're a couple, Morgan. Lovers."

"Uh-huh."

"Esther isn't bisexual. She's a lesbian."

"Whatever it takes, Colleen."

She shook her head again. "I don't know. It's weird. For me, it's weird, cowboy."

"Esther is supporting your mother's effort to change."

"I understand that. It's just that... ah, crap. I'd hoped she'd straighten up and fly right. This is wrong. Mom doesn't love her. Mom doesn't know how to love. She's using the woman, and she'll cheat on her with a man."

"Or another woman," I said.

"You think?"

"Sweet thing, this might shock you, but your mother is bisexual, and..."

"That's not a shock."

"You didn't let me finish. As lovers go, your mother prefers women to men." I chuckled. My added announcement had indeed shocked her. "What's more, I think Esther loves your mother. Perhaps she'll teach your mother how to love again. If this is bothering you, talk to your mother's therapist. Ask her opinion about the relationship, whether it's healthy or otherwise."

Colleen nodded. "All right."

"Well?"

"Now?"

"Now."

Colleen dug her encrypted cell phone from her purse. It worked as a normal phone unless the user pushed a soft key.

"Dr. Redmond, it's Charlotte Hilton... Fine, thanks. How's my mother doing?... Yes. That's what I'm calling about... I see... Mom will cheat on her... Really?" She listened without speaking for about a minute. "Okay, I'll try. It's just that I never saw my mother that way, so it's weird, very strange. It'll take some getting used to... Yes, I am... No, I prefer men, one man to be specific." She laughed. "That's for sure... Thanks, Dr. Redmond. Goodbye."

She hung up, looked up at me and smiled. "Dr. Redmond thinks that Esther moving in with Mom is the best thing that could have happened. She agreed with me about Mom cheating, but says it wouldn't be cheating, because Mom and Esther have an open relationship, and they tell each other everything. She didn't come right out and say it, but she implied that Mom and Esther sometimes invite others - men and women - into their bed with them."

"I'd say you read the therapist right."

"You knew?"

I nodded. "What did you expect? Your mother's a sex addict, sweet thing. My deal didn't preclude her from having sex. It dictated that she'd stop having sex for money, and from what I've experienced in your mother's mind, she's honored our deal. Her open relationship with Esther has helped her remember how fun sex can be. Tell me, is your mother showing up for her sessions with the therapist?"

"Yes."

"Is she studying, working with the tutor you arranged to help her pass the GED test?"

"She says she is. I haven't checked with the tutor."

"No need. She is, and Esther's helping there, too, grills her with the GED flash cards, that sort of thing."

"What does Esther do? Is she a hooker?"

"No. She's a blackjack dealer at one of the hotels on the strip. Your mother's doing just fine, sweet thing."

Colleen slumped in her chair and slowly let all the air from her lungs.

"Okay," she breathed, and her smile lit up my day.

"What's the range?" I asked Diane Keeny, our helicopter pilot. We were en route to the Lazy M Ranch. I sat in the co-pilot's seat.

"380 nautical miles."

"Argh. Do the math for me."

She chuckled. "That's 437 plus a fraction miles."

"Thanks. The ranch is about 400 miles away. Will you cut it that close?"

"No. There's a landing field in Alamo. We'll refuel there."

"What about speed?"

"136 knots. That's 156 plus a fraction miles per hour."

I liked Diane Keeny. Mostly, I liked the way her mind worked. Her thoughts were crisp, not muddled. Risqué, too without being raunchy. She was interested in Captain Johnson, and her interest wouldn't be rebuffed. Keith's wife of twenty-five years had divorced him a few years back. Currently, he wasn't seriously involved with a woman, and he was looking. From his thoughts, the divorce had been amiable. He and his ex-wife had stayed married until their two children left their nest, and then they went their separate ways. She'd since remarried.

"Did Jasper fill you in on what we are doing?" I asked the comely pilot.

"Yes," Keeny replied.

"Did he mention the possibility of a firefight?"

"Yes, on the ground, though."

"True, but we might need you for an extraction."

She nodded. "Understood."

Keeny preferred dominant men, and Keith fit that requirement. She wasn't a shrinking violet, though, which created problems in her relationships. She enjoyed the battle of wits and wills with a strong man, whether she won or lost.

She glanced over her shoulder. Keith was seated directly behind me.

Sexy, she thought. Big, strong, mature, not like the boy sitting next to me.

Boy? I stifled a laugh.

She's dazzling, Keith thought. Strong. Capable. My kind of woman. She's probably committed. Women like her attract men without trying.

I wondered about the sleeping arrangements at the Lazy M. Mayfield told Keith he had beds for twelve: six in the main house, and six in the bunkhouse. I saw Colleen and me, Ruben and Robyn, Sifu and Captain Johnson in the main house. That totaled six, which meant that Keeny would be shuffled off to the bunkhouse with Dean, Horace, Carlos and Jasper. That wouldn't work.

As it turned out, my concerns were unfounded. Because Colleen and I shared a bed, and Ruben and Robyn shared another bed, there was room for Keeny in the main house without asking Sifu to sleep in the bunkhouse.

Ruben, I said silently.

Yes?

Did you talk with Dean about the launcher?

Yeah. He ordered one. It should arrive at the Lazy M today or tomorrow morning by Fed-Ex. The distance is iffy. Heather checked with a laser rangefinder. It's 400 feet, the maximum range for the launcher, even tricked out with a customized line.

I sighed with relief. It's possible, though.

Barely.

Plan A was doable, but I was beginning to see some elements from Plan B sliding into and becoming part of Plan A.

Troy Mayfield was a big, gangly man with a complexion that couldn't resist sunburn on top of sunburn. The back of his neck looked raw and there was a hat ring near the top of his forehead with a stripe of lily-white flesh above the ring. The rest of his face was brown and wrinkled like old leather chaps. Kind gray eyes softened his rugged look. His meaty fist dwarfed mine when I shook hands with him.

"Welcome to the Lazy M, Mr. Morgan," he said, his voice as rugged as his countenance.

I classified Dorothy, Mayfield's wife, a nurturing earth mother. She was plump and affable, shorter than her husband by a foot. Then she surprised me.

"I understand you're here to take down that low-life, perverted baby fucker that we've been forced to call neighbor for far too long," she said.

I nodded.

"Dorothy," her husband cautioned.

"Don't shush me, Troy. You know how I feel about that evil blight on the human race. Merely hearing his name makes me feel like a line of thumbtacks are being pushed into my brain around my head like a Stetson two sizes too small. Keith tells us you were Mr. Bart's boy, Morgan. We knew Mr. Bart. Some years, he hunted with Troy. He was a good man."

"Yes he was," I said.

"When you take down the monster, take him down all the way, Morgan," she said as we walked into the ranch house. "Don't leave him alive to face a jury of his peers. He's slimy, slithery as a snake and as deadly as a timber rattler. He'll buy some jury members, maybe the judge, too. Don't mess with him. Just shoot the slippery skunk dead and leave him lying where he falls to feed the vultures and fertilize the alkali oozing to the surface around his ranch house."

"That's not good advice," Captain Johnson said, giving me a stern look.

Sounds like good advice to me, Ruben said silently.

I agreed, but said nothing, silently or out loud. Brogan's death was Plan A's objective. To hell with reading his mind. I'd just shoot him dead and avoid the psychopathic horrors drifting in his misfiring synapses with scenes of dead and bloody children in torture chambers on a never-ending loop.

The air was clean and brisk, rustling through the tall pines, and the stars shined as bright as I'd ever seen them. A cool breeze rustled the needles, and I heard the hoot of an owl. Civilization seemed a million miles away.

"Now that's a sky!" I said to Colleen.

"Uh-huh. Look! A shooting star."

I chuckled. "Did you make a wish?"

"Uh-huh. I wished that Captain Johnson wouldn't arrest you after you've done his job for him."

You know what he's doing. Do something about it, goddammit!

The statement came to me from the star-studded firmament as if from my adopted father's dead mind. Soon, Mr. Bart, I answered silently.

"Waddaya think, cowboy? Will Johnson arrest you?" Colleen asked.

"Maybe. Probably. I will break some laws."

She squeezed my arm with hers, and then took my hand. Our fingers entwined.

"Then it's good that Tim and Michelle are standing by. Tell me your plan."

"It's still evolving."

My encrypted cell phone rang.

"Morgan, it's Heather. There's activity at Brogan's ranch. A limo and a sedan just drove through the gates, followed by a police cruiser."

"That'll be Sheriff Canton," I said. "Is there enough light to photograph the new arrivals?"

"No, but if they're still around tomorrow morning, I'll take their pictures before we leave for the planning session. The hotshot in the limo looks like somebody important. Besides his driver, he arrived with two bodyguards, and the main man in the sedan came with a bodyguard, too. You called it. The fat White Pine County Sheriff just stepped from the cruiser. I recognize him from his photo, the one Robyn dug up. Brogan, Hall and Carson are standing under the main house portico to greet them. It's quite a gathering. It has the feel of a high-level conference. I could be wrong."

"Call Captain Johnson and describe the two hotshots. Maybe he can identify them for us."

"All right."

The feel of a high-level conference. Disturbing. Was Brogan aware of our surveillance and pending plans to take him down?

The three additional bodyguards also bothered me. If I counted Brogan among the shooters and didn't count his servants or ranch personnel, the hotshots who'd just arrived, or the sheriff, the three new bodyguards brought the number of shooters inside the stronghold to twelve.

Even with my propensity to gamble, the odds of going in alone and taking Brogan down just became too long. I'd told Colleen my plan was still evolving, but at that moment, my comment had been a lie. I'd intended a silent, solo incursion, and then a reign of death as I moved through the stronghold eliminating the evil that lurked within.

"The sedan's driver just dropped one of the bodyguards at the gatehouse," Heather said. "If I were to guess, I'd say the unmanned gatehouse just became manned."

"Call Johnson, Heather," I said and hung up.

I didn't like it when a plan got shot to hell.

"Tell me about the new arrivals at Brogan's ranch," I said to Johnson after Colleen and I returned to the main ranch house.

"The man in the limo with two bodyguards is Conner James, a senator in the state legislature and one of Brogan's asswipe buddies."

"What about the other man?"

Johnson looked uncomfortable, and after experiencing his thoughts, I understood why. Johnson suspected the man in the sedan was Major Brett Knott, Chief of the State of Nevada Criminal Investigative Division.

"I'm not sure," he said.

"Guess," I said.

"He might be Brett Knott, my boss."

"Does Knott know where you are?"

"No, I'm on leave. He thinks I'm fly fishing in Montana."

"You're here to trump Sheriff Canton. Will Knott trump you?" I asked.

He didn't speak, but his thoughts didn't offer any good news.

"Does Knott's presence at a possible high-level conference with Brogan surprise you?" I asked.

"Yes, definitely." But it also explains why Brogan skated every time I got close to taking him down.

"Keith, that fraternity you belong to, the one that wants to pull my teeth, needs a thorough house cleaning."

"I might be wrong about Knott."

"I don't think so. Goodnight."

Ruben, Sifu, Colleen, meet me down by the corral, I said silently as I walked away. Let's lean on a rail like wranglers, look at the horses and come up with a plan that'll work.

Colleen and Sifu walked with me to the corral. A friendly horse trotted over and nuzzled Colleen, which delighted her. The clean air now carried the odors of horse sweat and manure, not all that offensive, I decided. Ruben arrived five minutes later.

I told them about Senator James and Chief Knott. "Sheriff Canton also joined the party at Brogan's ranch," I added. "So, besides Brogan, four trained assassins, assorted bodyguards and other hard-cases, we must now deal with a state senator, Johnson's boss, and a county sheriff."

"That complicates things," Ruben said.

"Why?" Sifu asked.

Let's mind-talk, I said to each of them. Answer Sifu's question, Ruben.

Killing the head cop for the State of Nevada isn't something Johnson can let slide, Ruben said.

Then don't kill him, Sifu remarked.

To take the heat, I'd planned to go in by myself, I said. I can't do that now. I'm good, but I'm not that good.

That, I wouldn't have allowed, Ruben said. Even his thought sounded forceful.

I laughed. Subterfuge, Ruben. I would've used subterfuge. Here's our problem. Killing Brogan, Joel Hall and Linda Carson doesn't bother me. They deserve to die. I'm conflicted about Nick Martin, though, and I'm even more conflicted about the woman we assume is an assassin. Our assumption might be wrong. I'd planned to bypass the ranch personnel completely and let the pilot, the ranch foreman, his bodyguards and servants live, so my incursion would've been silent and surgical. Now... I let the rest of the sentence hang.

When no one responded, I said, Now we need a new plan.

Brogan traffics in children, Colleen said. He could be holding children captive in his stronghold. Any plan we devise should include that possibility.

Colleen's statement stunned me.

The gathering might not be a high-level conference, Sifu said. What better way to control a state senator, the state's top cop, and a county sheriff than to offer them a fresh batch of children from time to time to satisfy their perverted needs?

"God damn them!" Ruben huffed out loud.

"One way or the other, we go in tomorrow night," I said.

I drank my morning coffee sitting outside on a pine picnic bench. The sky was deep and blue, dotted with pure white clouds. I could smell pine and sage, and the air tasted sweet.

While I sipped coffee, I paged through the photos Heather and Leo had taken from their overlook. Mathew Bailand, the ranch foreman, was one of the thugs who beat me senseless and left me for dead behind Circus Circus. His photograph triggered the memory. Bailand's partner wasn't among those captured by the long lens of Heather's camera. What's more, Nick Martin was conspicuous in his absence. I made a mental note to query Heather about Martin when she arrived. My four operatives camping in RVs in the Humboldt National Forest were en route to the Lazy M for a planning session.

Keith Johnson stepped outside and sat on the bench across from me. He blew across the top surface of his coffee mug and sipped.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked.

I flipped a photo on the table. "Heather e-mailed this photograph this morning. Is that man Brett Knott?"

Johnson looked down at the photo, looked back up at me, and said, "Yes."

"The arrival of your boss, a state senator, and a county sheriff last night stuffed my plan into a cocked hat. I'm told the lights in Brogan's ranch house burned long into the night. What would be your guess regarding the activities that kept the lights on so late, Keith?"

Without responding to my question, he said, "Why are you angry with me?"

"Because I'll enter Brogan's stronghold sometime during the next few days, and when I walk out, you'll read me my rights and arrest me."

He blew over his mug again. "If I do, I'll speak on your behalf at your trial."

Big of him, I thought. "Dorothy makes a good cup of coffee," I said. "She also makes good sense. Take a stroll down memory lane with me, Keith. Mr. Bart once said to you, 'You know what he's doing, Keith. Do something about it, goddammit.' Do you remember? I do. Those were his exact words. He said them fifteen years ago. I heard them again last night. They resonated in my mind like a commandment from on high."

I don't need to listen to this shit, he thought, stood up and walked into the house.

Ruben joined me, careful not to spill coffee when he sat at the table.

"The captain didn't look happy. What did you say to him?" Ruben asked.

"I pushed his face into the dung of his ineptitude."

Ruben chuckled. "I understand. In the cold light of day, I think your plan sucks."

"Touché," I said. "Why?"

"I should go in with you, not an hour later."

"I agree. Heather, too."

He laughed. "You're no fun. I was looking forward to a shouting match on the issue. Why the change of heart."

Privacy is called for. Let's mind-talk. If my silent incursion gets noisy, you and Heather should be on the ground, not up on the bluff. Also, the two of you can silently incapacitate the ranch personnel while I do a silent pass through the main house to see what we're up against. Use flex cuffs on the ranch personnel's ankles and wrists and duct tape around their heads covering their mouths and eyes. My first contact should be any guards wandering the property or minding monitors in the security room. I'll kill them. I can't risk sparing their lives. Once the security room is neutralized, Gary or Leo or Maria, one of them, should take out the gate guard from the bluff with a silenced sniper rifle. Is one of them up to the task?

He pursed his lips. I don't know.

This is critical, Ruben.

I see that.

If necessary, we'll leave Heather on the bluff to take out the gate guard before joining us. We'll discuss this issue at our planning session.

Ruben nodded.

After the security-room guards, any roaming guards and the gate guard are down, the stronghold is ours. We'll move from room to room in the main house incapacitating everyone except Brogan, Joel Hall, Linda Carson, and Mathew Bailand. I don't want those four cretins breathing my air.

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