The Warrior's Way

Chapter Three (#u6ede9a92-864d-5dec-af38-7ed713e92d4d)

“That’s crazy. I’m not blowing up anything. I’m here to advise you,” said Sophia. She was sweating now, but it was a cold sweat and her skin had gone to gooseflesh.

One thing she knew with certainty—there was no way in hell she was ever, under any circumstances, doing anything that could affect the outcome of her fatal force investigation. Destroying federal land in a massive unauthorized explosion qualified.

“No,” she said. “No way and hell no.”

Jack’s smile told her that this wasn’t over and she felt like kicking herself for opening her big mouth. What if they did something incredibly stupid, like tried to blow that opposite wall and then they told her supervisors that it was her suggestion?

“You can’t be seriously considering this.” She tried to make her voice reflect her incredulity, but instead there was a definite tremor.

“I’ll consider anything that keeps my people from drowning.”

“We’re protecting the dam system, Jack. You and your warrior society don’t have to do anything. This is federal land. All of it. It falls under federal jurisdiction.”

He pointed toward Piñon Forks. “That’s Apache land and we will protect it as we see fit.”

“I hope you like federal prisons, because that’s where you’re heading if you blow one single rock of this canyon. This is a wetland system. It’s crucial to the power grid and it’s beautiful.”

“You have a better idea?”

“That wasn’t an idea! It was a joke.”

“How would you set the blasts, in your joke?” he asked.

“You must think I’m crazy to answer a question like that. Besides you don’t have access to the kind of explosives you’d need.”

“We have mining explosives, det cord, blasting caps and rolls of shock tubing.”

He used the abbreviation for detonation cord, used to trigger explosions of the main charge and his knowledge caused her to lift her brows in surprise. “Turquoise mining,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “The community operation is mostly underground now, following the veins as they run deeper. Plus we have lots of smaller claims. My friend Dylan Tehauno has a really good one up there on Turquoise Ridge. Lots of blasting material here.”

“If you are considering this, I have to report you.”

He smiled as his eyes challenged her. “Just a joke. Like yours.” He glanced toward the west. The town below was already cast in shadows, but up here it blazed orange as the sun made its final descent.

He sat on the canyon rim and glanced up at her. “Want to watch the sunset?”

She sat beside him, close enough to feel the heat of his body but not quite touching him.

“Turns the river into a ribbon of gold.” He pointed to where the river flowed a deep orange color that changed by the minute.

“Jack, I’m in the middle of a fatal-force investigation. I cannot be involved in blowing anything up. This is a consult. Remember?”

“Back to the investigation again. Why are you so worried? Did you screw up?”

“No. I—well, I don’t think so. Maybe.”

“You can tell me, Sophia.”

She lowered her head, staring at nothing that he could see.

“I’m a former US Marine. I’ve shot people before.”

“That’s different.” She waved a dismissive hand. Then squared her shoulders and drew a breath. She was going to tell him and the realization filled her with both hope and terror.

“Do you know that there is not one person in my office that has even discharged their weapon, let alone been engaged in a significant-use-of-force incident? Well, Mel drew on a pit bull but he didn’t shoot because he got over a fence in time.”

“It happens to a lot of us,” he said again. “And if you can’t sleep or think or eat, that’s all just part of it. The crappy part, but it’s necessary. Eventually, you live with it. Mostly the memories stay down.”

He sat beside her overlooking the river as the clouds changed colors before her eyes. Clouds, she thought. That meant more rains would be coming.

“I shot a young Hispanic male,” she said.

He nodded. Saying nothing but somehow his silence encouraged her to continue.

“Here’s what happened. I’m going to say it fast so I don’t have to think about it all night.” She drew a breath as if preparing to submerge in deep water, then let it out. “Okay, I was off-duty and in my new car. I had just leased a BMW, black, Two Series. I mean I just left the dealership and I got bumped. I considered that it was a scam and so I had my weapon out when I left the vehicle. The male driver told me to step away from my BMW. Actually he said, ‘Give me the keys.’ And then he called me a...well, it doesn’t matter. He demanded the keys and reached for something in his coat. I saw the handgun before I fired. He died at the scene.”

Jack scratched his chin, feeling the stubble growing there. Seemed like a home run to him. She’d defended herself and from her version he saw no reason for her to worry.

“Seems justified.”

“But it wasn’t a handgun. It was a phone. He did have an unregistered handgun on his person. But that was not what he pointed at me. And he kept the phone pointed at me, even when he went to his knees.”

“You think he meant to photograph the damage?”

“I’ll never know.”

“Sophia, he told you to give him your keys. There is only one reason to hit a new Beamer and then demand the keys. He was boosting your car.”

“Probably.”

Jack’s anger took him totally by surprise. He tried to understand why he was so furious at this unknown perp. And then it struck him. He’d be murderous with anyone who threatened her. How had she gotten under his skin so fast?

She could have died and he would never have had a chance to know her. He wanted that chance. Trouble was, she didn’t. She had made it very clear that she could not wait to be out of here and back on the job.

“Does he have a criminal record or history of stealing cars?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything, and I don’t have access to the system. I do know his name. Nothing else yet. I’ve made my formal statement. I met with the union rep and our attorney. They gave me the protocol.”

“Referral to mental-health professional?”

“Sure. And contact with an agent who also had a deadly force encounter in Phoenix. But he was on a raid of a grow house and everyone inside was dirty and heavily armed. Not the same.”

A grow house was a home, usually abandoned, taken over and converted to an indoor greenhouse to grow marijuana. The drug producers were often well armed and prepared to defend their crop.

He said nothing. No one’s life experiences were the same, but all could be used to help every person find their path.

The silence stretched as the first star, Venus, appeared in the western sky.