Black Ghosts Page 3

  Edward moved fast. Grantsville was not a place with a night life, but that was not to say everybody was asleep. A parked van with its engine running at this hour of the morning was bound to draw attention. This was a place where people would sit up and complain if a bird was chirping out of tune. He opened the driver’s-side door and looked into the back seat. Larry was wrapped in a gray blanket soaked in blood. His head was slumped to one side, leaning against the fogged-up window. Edward could hear him wheezing and gasping for air. It didn’t look good.

  The sight of Larry all bloodied and helpless angered him. He couldn’t tell whether he was angry with whoever had done this or with Larry himself for making him deal with this sort of thing again.

  “How long ago did this happen?” Edward asked.

  “A couple of hours.” She put her arms around the unconscious man, gently lifting his head from the cold glass and leaning it on her shoulder. Larry opened his eyes briefly, trying to focus and muttering something. Then his eyes closed again.

  “What did he say?” Edward asked.

  “He’s delirious.” She lifted the blanket and looked underneath. “He’s losing blood. We need to get him inside, change his dressings.”

  “We’ll get him to a hospital. There’s one down the road in Tooele.” Edward put the van in gear and eased out of the parking spot.

  “No,” she said sharply, tugging on his shoulder. “Drive to your place.”

  “He needs medical attention,” Edward reasoned, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

  “They’ll nail him if we take him to a hospital.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “FBI, CIA, whoever.”

  “Oh, great,” muttered Edward. Things were going from bad to worse. “How close are they?”

  “We shot at the ones who came for us.”

  “Came for you? What do you mean?”

  “Larry called for backup and they came.”

  “Larry’s backup did this?” Edward was starting to realize the magnitude of the problem. From what she had told him, it was very possible they had just killed some CIA agents. If that was true, it would not be long before they would have the National Guard on their case, and not just the kids from Tooele.

  “Do they know you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do Larry’s so-called friends know you?”

  “No.”

  Edward thought fast. They had to get Larry out of sight as quickly as possible. If, however, he was already being tailed, it was game over.

  “What about this van?”

  “What about it?”

  “Is it clean?” Edward could see in the rearview mirror that she was staring blankly at him, obviously confused by the situation. “Who rented it?” he pressed.

  “Shit,” she said in frustration. “He did.”

  Edward had to think fast. He couldn’t dump the van, not with blood all over it. God only knew what the sheriff might do if he found it abandoned in that condition. Edward had no time to clean it up. He decided to park it in the old warehouse. There was a closed-off section he had been planning to turn into another seating area for the bistro. Edward turned down Main Street, back the way they had come.

  “Why are they after him?” Edward asked as he pulled into the alley behind the bistro.

  “He stumbled on something big, and they want him silenced.”

  “And how do you fit in?”

  “It’s a long story. I’m a friend of a friend.”

  “Okay,” Edward said as the van came to a stop. “Let’s get him in.”

  “Is there a drugstore around here?”

  “There’s a medical clinic; you were just parked by it.” Edward got out and opened the back door to the kitchen, then returned to get Larry. Together, he and Natalie slid him out of the van, and Edward carried him in his arms.

  Momentarily revived by the cold air, Larry opened his eyes and looked at Edward. He seemed to want to say something, then his head slumped back and he was out again.

  Natalie held the kitchen door open and followed Edward in.

  “Open that green door over there.” Edward nodded to a door leading into a hallway at one end of which was an office area and at the other the staircase to his private apartment.

  Carrying Larry up the stairs took everything Edward had. Larry was not a big man, and Edward was six-foot-one and totally out of shape, not to mention his bad back. At this particular juncture, it would not be prudent to aggravate the old Army wound he had suffered during a night jump into El Salvador. It could render him as helpless as Larry.

  Edward passed through the living room and into the bedroom, where he carefully lowered his unconscious friend onto the bed. Exhausted and catching his breath, he sat next to Larry.

  “Excuse the mess,” he said when Natalie entered. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “Looks okay to me.” There was a patronizing tone in her voice. She turned her attention to Larry. “He started bleeding again. We need to change his dressings. Where did you say that clinic was?”

  “Not a good idea, especially if they know he’s wounded.”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, if they’re dead they don’t know. But I can’t be sure about that.” She sounded anxious, frightened, needing reassurance that all would be well.

  “Calm down. We’ll figure something out.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell her it would be all right because he couldn’t see how. For all he knew, they—whoever they were—could be breaking his door down any minute, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  Edward reached under the bed and pulled out a large black attaché case. “Here, my emergency first-aid kit. Somewhat larger than a conventional kit, but then I always expect the worst.” He smiled at her, trying to reassure her, hoping she couldn’t see through him. “You’ll find everything you need in there. I’ll go take care of the van. I’ll be right back.” He stopped at the door. “Is there something you need from the van?”

  She thought for a minute, staring at the floor and running her long fingers through her hair. “There’s a blue duffel bag behind the back seat, if you could bring it.” She sounded tired.

  “Anything else?”

  She shook her head. Edward went down to the vacant portion of the warehouse, swung open the double doors, and backed the van in. By the time he returned, Natalie had dressed Larry’s chest wound, and he was resting comfortably.

  “He took a bullet to the chest,” she said, her voice quavering. “I think it’s still in there.”

  “We’ll have to get him to a doctor,” said Edward. He handed her the duffel bag. She took out a green woolen sweater and pulled it on.

  Natalie chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Maybe if they don’t find him by tomorrow, they’ll think he’s back in Washington or somewhere. Then we could get him to a doctor.”

  Edward knew Larry wouldn’t make it until tomorrow, not with that bullet in him and his fever the way it was. He also knew she was right about not taking him to the hospital.

  From beneath his feet, Edward could hear the sounds of the bistro coming to life. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said. “I’ve got to make sure everything’s fine downstairs.” He left her sitting on the end of the bed, her eyes fixed on Larry. Her mind seemed to drift away.

  In the living room he stopped by the phone to make a quick call to a number in New Jersey. It was an emergency number, the kind veterans from the battlefields of the Cold War carry etched into the tissues of their minds. Larry needed help, and fast.

  The call, as usual, was answered almost immediately. “Yes?” said a rasping voice.

  “It’s Edward.” There was no need for secret code names. No one was listening; no one cared. “I need a doctor.”

  “What’s up? You sick?”

  “Not me. A friend. Bullet in the chest.”

  There was a momentary silence. “You’re in Utah, right?”

  “Right. How about someone from the hospital in T
ooele?” Edward could hear the computer keys as his friend was searching.

  “No, sorry, we have no one there. I don’t even know if we have a doctor out there at all.” There was a pause, then the voice came back on again. “I can get you a medic.”

  “That will have to do.”

  “Okay. I’ll have him call you.”

  “Hurry up, man. My friend is running out of time.”

  “Peace,” rasped the voice, and the line went dead.

  Edward knew, as he hung up, that you couldn’t always get what you wanted from this network of abandoned souls, but it didn’t hurt to ask. It was a comfort to know he wasn’t alone, that there was someone out there who would at least try to help.

  The bistro was in full swing. The first wave of customers was pouring in. Edward’s breakfast, which he prepared so diligently, had long since been consigned to the trash. Kelly, Edward’s manager, came rushing from the main seating area into the kitchen. Her round face was shining with sweat.

  “What’s with you?” she asked on her way to the large dishwasher, where she was about to give the new gofer a hand, seeing that the stream of clean cups was slowing to a trickle. “Is something wrong? You look as if you got hit by a truck.”

  “No, I’m fine. Could you please get me some breakfast for two?”

  A knowing look came into her eyes as she smiled at him. “For two? Yes, sir!” She saluted mockingly and turned to the burly man in a long white apron who was pouring perfect flapjacks on the wide black griddle. “Two Napoleons for the boss,” she called out. Then she turned back to Edward, her eyes curious. “Want me to bring it up t’ya?”

  “No, I’ll come down for it.”

  “Okay, no problema.” She turned back to her tasks. Edward would have to be careful about that curiosity of hers: For the moment, Larry was a stowaway.

  When he got upstairs, Natalie was where he had left her. He sat in the chair by the window. After a few minutes of silence, he realized she had no intention of starting a conversation.

  “I need you to tell me what’s going on,” he said.

  “I don’t know. Larry didn’t tell me much.”

  Edward sensed she was lying. She had a wary look in her eye, like that of a hunted animal. He wondered how deep her involvement with Larry was. Could she just be a friend to whom Larry had turned in an hour of need?

  “At least tell me what happened.”

  She turned to face him, leaning on the bed’s brass footboard. “Larry wanted to replace some electronic device he said was about to be stolen from Hill Air Force Base with a fake one.”

  “Just like that?” he interrupted.

  “No, he’d been working on this for quite some time now. He knew someone was going to steal it, so he wanted to get in there and replace the real deal with a fake.” She seemed like she was about to cry, but she swallowed hard and kept on talking. “We drove over there—it’s on the other side of Salt Lake City.” She paused, moving on the bed carefully so as not to disturb Larry. “We got there about midnight and Larry parked by the base fence near a large hangar. He cut a hole in the fence and entered the base on foot. He told me to wait for him there.”

  “When was all this?”

  “I told you, last night around twelve.”

  “He went in alone?”

  “He expected to meet with the backup from his office when we got there. They were not there when we arrived. He wanted me to wait for them at the fence.”

  “CIA?”

  “No, Larry’s been out of the CIA for over a year—well, not really out, he was loaned to the National Security Council.”

  Edward was stunned. He had seen Larry several months earlier and was told nothing. Why would Larry keep this from him? Larry, working for the NSC? “Go on.”

  “He told me to wait for them. If they arrived before he got back, I was to tell them to wait. Well, I got scared sitting alone in the middle of nowhere, so I hid behind the hangar and watched the road. From where I was, I could see the van and the hole in the fence. He left me a gun, just in case. After about half an hour, a black car stopped across the road from the van. Three men got out; one walked over to the van and looked in. Then he walked back to the other two.”

  “Weren’t you supposed to ask them to wait?”

  “Yes, but there was something about them.” She shrugged. “I don’t know—call it woman’s intuition. Something didn’t smell right. So I stayed behind the hangar. One of them got a rifle out of the trunk and hid in the bushes. The other two got back in the car and drove down the road. I couldn’t see the car, but I could see by their headlights that they had stopped and turned around.”

  “What about the guy in the bushes?”

  “I couldn’t see him, it was too dark. It was around four when Larry came out of the base. He saw me behind the hangar and came over to me. Then the car pulled up behind the van and stopped. Larry asked me why I wasn’t waiting in the van and I told him I was worried. I told him about the man in the grove with the rifle and how they came and left and now had returned.

  “He said it was okay. They were just following procedure in positioning themselves that way. I told him I didn’t trust them.” She started crying. “Larry told me to stay out of sight—he would go meet with them himself. He said he got the electronic device and was going to give it to them. He had it, wrapped in blue bubble wrap. I kneeled down as he walked towards them.”

  She shook her head. “I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it.” She wiped the tears with the back of her hand. Edward leaned over to the large pine dresser for a box of tissues and handed it to her.

  She smiled, drew a tissue, and dried her eyes. She cleared her throat and went on. “He walked towards them, they got out of the car and waited for him. That’s when I saw the man in the grove suddenly stand up and aim his rifle at Larry. I yelled out to Larry and fired my gun at the man. Larry turned in my direction. One of the men standing by the car drew a gun and shot him. Larry fell back. I ran towards them, firing my gun until there was no more bullets. Larry also shot at them from where he was on the ground.”

  “Did you get them?”

  “I think so, because they’d stopped shooting when I got to Larry. Anyway, I grabbed him and dragged him into the van. He said I should get the circuit board—he dropped it when he was shot. I went back and got it, and took off as fast as I could. Before he passed out he said that I should try and get to your place. After a while, I pulled off the road. I dressed his wound as best I could, just to stop the bleeding, and then found my way over here.”

  “Were you followed?”

  “I don’t think so. If they were after me they could have killed us both when I stopped to take care of him.”

  Edward knew she was right. He also realized she was not as fragile as she looked. There was quite a woman under that beautiful outer shell.

  “So what is this circuit board, anyway?”

  “You’ll have to ask him when he comes to.” From her expression, he knew she was not going to say any more.

  “Edward!” Kelly called from the bottom of the staircase. “The Napoleons are ready!”

  Kelly had left coffee and the croissants stuffed with smoked Canadian bacon and melted Swiss cheese at the end of the counter by the door.

  “Breakfast,” Edward called when he returned, placing the tray on the living-room table.

  Edward lost his appetite. He took a bite out of the croissant but his knotted stomach seemed unwilling to accept the offering. He washed it down with the hot coffee. Natalie, on the other hand, wolfed down the croissant and poured herself a second cup of coffee.

  “That was good,” she said, stretching her arms. “It’s been a long night. Mind if I lie down for a while?” She seemed to have been transformed, shrugging off the frightened, vulnerable woman.

  “Go ahead.” Edward waved her toward the sofa. Soon she was asleep.

  Pushing away his unfinished plate, Edward realized the shelter he had created
for himself was disintegrating around him, a house of cards about to be knocked down by a breeze from the past. He was back in the wilderness of mirrors, where nothing is real except death.

  He quietly went into the bedroom. Larry had not moved, although his wheezing appeared to have lessened some. Edward took a wool blanket from the dresser and covered Natalie with it, moving gently so as not to wake her. She looked so vulnerable lying there, hair tousled, mouth slightly open, showing the gleaming edge of her perfect teeth.

  For the moment, there was nothing he could do for Larry: Sleep was his best ally. Leaning his chair back against the wall, Edward looked out the narrow opening between the blind and the window frame. He spent a few minutes pondering the situation and idly watching the passers-by in the street below.

  Two men wearing light green trench coats and close-cropped hair crossed the street from the motel. Suddenly all Edward’s senses were alert. The men stood out like a sore thumb in the colorful carnival atmosphere of holiday skiers milling through the streets. Stepping onto the sidewalk, the taller man stopped by the newspaper dispenser, searching his pockets for change. Up the street from the bistro, the other man approached a parked blue Chevrolet Caprice, which Edward hadn’t noticed before. Putting one hand on the roof of the car, the man leaned by the front passenger window. He talked for a minute, pointing in several directions, then he stopped and nodded. Edward knew the trench-coat was getting instructions from someone in the car, but he couldn’t see who it was because of the car’s tinted windows. Still nodding, the trench-coat glanced in the direction of the general store, then at the bistro. From the looks of it, they were conducting a thorough search of the town.

  Finally the trench-coat straightened up and headed toward the general store. His friend, who still hadn’t managed to find change, joined him.

  Because an experienced operative can determine a lot about who he’s dealing with by observing them perform their job, Edward wanted to get a closer look. It was clear from the start that these were Americans: No foreign agency would be bold enough to behave so casually in the U.S. They would be more discreet, as would Americans working abroad. It was a fault of law enforcement and intelligence agencies the world over to execute their job far less graciously when on their own turf.