Eagle's Last Stand

“Good luck.”

* * *

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER they arrived at the small community college campus and walked up the wide sidewalk toward a large, white, concrete-and-stone building. “This is my stop.” Kim met his gaze. “If you find Mike, be kind but careful around him. Some things can’t be forced. He’s been living on the street for years now, and he’s wary of everyone.”

“It never hurts to try. Did you ever learn his last name?”

“I don’t even know what his real first name is. I’ve always admired the football player Michael Oher, particularly after seeing The Blind Side, so I asked him if I could call him Mike. He nodded.”

“All right. Let’s see what I can do.”

She checked her watch. “I’ve got to go. Class lasts an hour. Should we meet afterward and go to Turquoise Dreams, Angelina’s other shop?”

“Okay, sounds good.”

“See you later, then,” she said.

* * *

AFTER LEAVING CAMPUS, Rick headed back to the center of town, deliberately choosing the side streets and alleys along Main, watching carefully as he approached restaurants and fast-food establishments. Mike undoubtedly already knew about the explosion at the Brickhouse Tavern and would be searching for a new place to score a meal.

At first Rick had no luck, but eventually he spotted Mike standing on a wooden pallet as he searched through the big green trash bin behind Hamburger Haven.

Instead of approaching him, Rick circled the block and came up the alley, looking down at the pavement and never making eye contact. About twenty feet away, he sat on a flattened cardboard box, his back to the wall. He was wearing a turtlenecked sweater and jeans, not his usual jacket, which often served to hide a handgun at his waist. Instead he had it in his boot for emergencies, but he knew what he was dealing with here and doubted there’d be a problem. Unless cornered, with no escape possible, Mike was unlikely to turn violent. He’d run. Though Rick pretended to be looking toward the street, he could see Mike in his peripheral vision. He knew that Mike, aware of him from the moment he’d entered the alley, had been watching him.

As Mike stepped down off the pallet, Rick saw the tattoo on the man’s left forearm. It was the outline of a horse head with a diagonal line beneath it—the insignia of the Army’s First Cavalry division.

“Ooorah, soldier,” Rick said in a barely audible voice.

Mike looked at him, his gaze focusing on Rick’s scar.

“Some scars are easier to see than others,” Rick said, still avoiding direct eye contact. “You like cheeseburgers? I’m hungry. I’m going to get myself one. I’ll pick one up for you, too, if you want.”

Rick glanced at Mike and noted the vacant expression on his face. For a moment he wondered if the man was beyond the ability to answer questions.

Then it happened. A spark of intelligence lit up Mike’s face for an instant. Rick realized that what he’d seen before was the thousand-yard stare: the blank look of someone who’d seen too much suffering and death.

“Cheeseburger. And fries,” Mike said.

“Coming right up.”

Rick went inside the small fast-food place, eager to return but afraid to look as though he was in a hurry. He’d just found his first asset and, with luck, he’d also be able to help the man.

One thing he knew about was adversity. It either broke or remade you, but sometimes finding your strength again required retreating to a place so deep inside yourself, the world couldn’t reach you. He understood that. He’d done it himself.

When Rick returned to the alley, Mike was gone, but Rick could sense he was being watched. Mike was nearby, probably trying to make up his mind about him. Rick placed the sandwich bag filled with food on a cardboard box next to the wall where he’d been sitting. Mike would find it there.

“I’m after the man who nearly killed Kim, her uncle and my family,” Rick called out as clearly as possible without shouting. “You see things most of us miss, Mike. Whatever you tell me will stay between us, but I could really use your help. Whoever it is may not be through yet.”

Rick left the alley and crossed the street. As an undercover operative he’d lived engulfed by a darkness most sane people would do anything to avoid. Yet it was there, in that world of senseless violence, that the true measure of a man was often found...and sometimes lost.

Chapter Four (#ulink_f1b0e92d-8d15-51ff-b3c4-e766ad35c115)

Rick picked up a soft drink inside the fast food place, then walked back to where he’d left Daniel’s loaner SUV. He’d drive rather than walk back to campus. With time to spare, he took the long way, reacquainting himself with Hartley. Eventually he pulled into campus.

When he’d taken classes here right out of high school, the community college had been nothing more than a multi-classroom structure and administration building. Now the campus comprised about three acres, with a grassy commons area and central fountain.

Rick took the road leading to the visitors’ parking area and pulled into the first slot he found. After a short walk, he found Kim standing just down the hall talking to a man who looked vaguely familiar. It hit him a moment later when the guy turned and Rick saw his face clearly for the first time.

“Karl Edmonds. It’s been a lifetime,” Rick said.

“You know my professor?” Kim asked.

“Professor? That’s one career I never would have expected you to choose,” Rick said, looking at Karl.

“I’m technically an instructor, Cloud. I teach part-time, and work full-time for the Hartley P.D. I run the bomb squad,” he said.

“Now that fits the kid I knew,” Rick said.

Karl looked at the scar that ran across Rick’s face, then glanced away quickly. “Looks like you came in second in a knife fight, dude. Hope you’ve brushed up on your hand-to-hand since then.”

Rick remembered why Karl had always annoyed him. They’d always been competitors, never really friends. Karl’s biggest problem, which had obviously followed him into manhood, was that he never knew when to shut up.

“We’d better get going. Kim and I need to meet with Preston,” Rick said.

“It was good seeing you, buddy,” Karl said.

“I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” Rick held Karl’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary. Instinct was telling him to be careful around the man. Was it that old competition between them or something more? He couldn’t tell, but until he figured it out, he wouldn’t lower his guard.

* * *

KIM FOLLOWED HIM to his SUV. “You and Karl... You weren’t ever really friends, were you?”

“No, but we attended school together and played on the same football team. We were friendly—at times.”

“I can’t believe how rude he was to you,” Kim said. “Do you really need to meet your brother or was that an excuse to walk away?”

“Both. It’s a bad idea to make enemies with someone Preston may have to depend on someday,” he said. “Right now, I’d also like to get clearance to take a look around the Brickhouse again in daylight,” he said. “Afterward we’ll head to Turquoise Dreams. Angelina certainly got my attention today.”

“Are you sure your brother’s going to be okay with you investigating on your own?”

“Under ordinary circumstances, no, but the Hartley P.D. is badly understaffed. I can be an asset to them because I’ve got the best law-enforcement training in the world.”

“Will I need clearance, too?”

“Yes. I need you there because you’re familiar with the place and can help me reconstruct the scene. If something’s off or doesn’t belong there, it might stick out to you but slip right past me.”

* * *