Cold Wind - C. J. Box [25]
“I never thought I’d say this,” she said in her musical voice, “but I think maybe you need to make the effort.”
“You never liked it when we got together for a case,” Nate said. “What changed your mind?”
“He seems like a good man,” she said. “And a good friend to you.”
Nate grunted.
“You can’t just dismiss him as a government man. You know better, and you two have been through a lot. Do you still keep in touch with his daughter? Is she still your falconry apprentice?”
Nate nodded. Sheridan should have gone to college by now, and he knew nothing of her choice of school. He didn’t know where she was, which was troubling to him.
“You shouldn’t punish her,” Alisha said. “It’s not her fault.”
“I know.” He was getting annoyed because she was right.
“Marybeth knows I’m still here,” Nate said. “She called a while back to check on me. I even got a call from her mother.”
“The pretty dragon?”
“Yes, her.”
“But not Joe?” she asked.
“Not Joe.”
“Phones work two ways, you know,” she said.
“Hmmmmph.”
“Well?”
“Well, maybe I’ll give him a call one of these days.”
“No,” she said, “Go see him. You two don’t talk well on the phone. I’ve heard you. You’re like two apes grunting. You don’t say anything.”
Nate turned the fillets. He liked how angrily they sizzled. When he looked up, she was staring at him, waiting.
“Okay,” he said, with a little edge. “But first I have to get the hell out of this canyon. I told you why last night.”
She made a face. It had to do with his time working for a branch of Special Forces, a rogue branch. He didn’t tell her the name of the organization or what he’d done while he was there. He never would, because she’d be outraged. Even Joe didn’t want to know, even though Nate had offered to tell him.
There were things he’d done—that his team had done—that were coming back to haunt him. Because Nate had left abruptly, without clearance, an exit interview, or his pension, there were men who were concerned about exposure. He’d never threatened to reveal them or talk about their work, but they were paranoid by nature. Several of his old team had come to the Rockies at different times to try to take him out. Each had failed, and they no longer walked the earth. But the rotten core of the team—four men and a woman—still survived, and several had moved up in the government within the Department of Homeland Security. He called them The Five.
According to a contact he still trusted in the agency, The Five were alarmed about Nate’s work and growing underground reputation. There was no doubt they’d breathe easier if Nate didn’t breathe at all.
From what he understood from his contact in Virginia, The Five had not yet deployed. He wondered if telling her about them the night before had caused his uneasy feeling when he woke up that morning, or if it was something else. If The Five deployed, he didn’t want Alisha anywhere close to him.
Another source of tension was the increasing numbers in the underground resistance. They looked to him for help and protection. What had originally been a few dozen people who had dropped out of contemporary America because they loathed the direction the country seemed to be headed in had swelled to hundreds and perhaps more. They were located in remote pockets throughout the mountain west. The woman Joe and he had saved a year ago—for what turned out to be different reasons—had been the catalyst for their disagreement. She was now in the Snake River country of Idaho, among her kind. He had no idea what would happen when the movement was either publicized or challenged. But he knew there would be a good chance of violence.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he said, after the fillets were cooked golden brown. He removed them and put them on a towel to drain and cool.