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“Or suck hind tit,” grumped Katz.
Maybe she hadn’t seen any action before, but she apparently wanted some now.
And I had a feeling Agent Katz might get her wish.
Chapter 75
“OVER THERE, heading toward the barn,” I said, and pointed. “That’s Taylor. What’s he doing?”
“Powiesnik is on the other side of the house. He probably can’t see that Taylor is outside,” said Agent Katz.
“Let’s see what he’s up to.”
Katz hesitated. “You’re not going to get me shot, are you?”
“No,” I said, a little too quickly. This was getting complicated all of a sudden. I wanted to follow Taylor, but I felt I had to watch out for Katz too.
“Let’s go,” Katz finally said, reaching a decision. “Taylor is out of the house. He’s headed southwest,” she alerted Powiesnik. “We’re following.”
The two of us hurried forward for a hundred yards or so. We had some ground to make up, and we wanted to keep Taylor in sight. There was a half-moon overhead and that helped, but it was also possible that Taylor might see us coming. We could lose him easily now, especially if he was suspicious.
He didn’t seem to be aware of anything going on around him—at least not so far. Which got me thinking that he was used to sneaking around out here late at night. Not worrying about being seen by anyone. This was his private reserve, wasn’t it? I watched him go inside the barn.
“We should call in again,” Katz said.
I didn’t disagree completely, but I was nervous about the other agents coming up fast and making noise. How many of them had experience in the field?
“You better call in,” I finally agreed.
It took the other agents a couple of minutes to get to the edge of the woods, where we were crouched behind tall brush. Light from inside the barn shone through cracks and holes in the weatherboarding. We couldn’t see or hear much from where we were hiding.
Then music blasted from somewhere in the barn. I recognized a choral arrangement by Queen. A lyric about riding a bicycle. Totally whacked at this time of night, playing in the middle of nowhere.
“There’s no evidence of violence in his past,” Powiesnik said as he crouched beside me.
“Or kidnapping, either,” I said. “But he might have somebody in that barn. Maybe the kid from Holy Cross. Taylor knew about the Wolf’s Den, even the eye scan. I doubt he’s an innocent bystander.”
“We’re moving on Taylor,” the senior agent ordered. “He may be armed,” he told the agents. “Proceed as if he is.”
He assigned Nielsen and Bugliarello to surveil the far side of the barn in case Taylor tried to get out some other way. Powiesnik, Katz, and I were going in the door that Taylor had entered.
“You okay with this?” I asked Powiesnik. “Going in after him now?”
“It’s already been decided,” he said in a tight voice.
So we moved forward, toward the barn door. Queen continued to play loudly inside. “I want to ride my bi
cycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!” This was a strange feeling, all of it. The Bureau had excellent resources for getting information, and their personnel were certainly book smart and well trained, but in the past I’d always known and trusted those I went into a dangerous crime scene with.
The wooden barn door hadn’t been latched or locked by Taylor. We could see that as we crouched in tall brush a few yards away.
Suddenly the music stopped.
Then I heard loud voices inside. More than one. But I couldn’t make out what was being said or who was doing the talking.
“We should take him down. Now,” I whispered to Powiesnik. “We’re already committed. We have to go.”
“Don’t tell me—”
