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Keira skimmed through her copy. “Oh, my God,” she said. She glanced over at Cody, who had read his copy just as quickly, and was looking at her with a disturbed expression on his face.
They both turned to face D’Arcy when he said, “The FBI has already sent an official inquiry through channels requesting whatever information we have on this.”
“But we don’t have any, sir,” Keira said faintly.
“No, not directly, but you can’t tell me there isn’t a connection between this and Walker’s truck last night.” He looked from Keira to Cody. “In case you don’t remember, Brockway and DeSantini were—”
“The lead prosecutors on Pennington’s trial eight years ago,” Cody finished for him. “Yes, sir, I remember.” His face hardened, as did his voice. “Callahan’s in danger. Maybe his family, too.”
“I’ve already dispatched a team to bring him in, along with McKinnon. And another to bring Callahan’s family to Denver. The safe house in Casper is well enough under normal circumstances, but not for this.”
“Callahan won’t trust the team you’ve sent unless I warn him in advance,” Cody said. “You know how careful he is.”
“Then call him,” D’Arcy said. “Now.” He glanced at his watch. “I sent the team by helicopter. They should be there soon.”
Keira watched as Cody drew the cell phone from his pocket and walked to a corner of the room, punching in a number. She looked back at D’Arcy. “What are you going to tell the FBI, sir?” she asked.
“As little as I can,” he said. “I have to tell them about what was found in Walker’s truck—the circumstances are too similar to what happened to Brockway and DeSantini. And there could be an evidentiary tie-in. But I’m not giving them the file you compiled,” he said, pointing to the thick file folder in the center of his desk.
“Sir?”
“Two reasons,” D’Arcy explained. “First, I don’t want them to know this agency has access to their computers. Second, if the SAC of the FBI’s New York Field Office Criminal Division was a member of the militia or on the Russian mob’s payroll before he resigned five years ago, there’s no telling who else in the FBI might be involved. I’m not going to risk it. I’ve already got one agent on the militia’s hit list. I’m not adding your name to it.”
Startled, she said, “I didn’t think of that.”
Cody walked back at that moment, his face grim. “Callahan’s halfway to Casper. McKinnon’s with him. McKinnon called my secure cell—it must have gone to voice mail,” he said, glancing at the phone for confirmation before continuing. “They found explosives rigged in Callahan’s official sheriff’s SUV early this morning, parked right outside his house. They didn’t wait to collect the evidence—you can notify the FBI to do that, sir. Callahan was determined to get to his family as soon as he could.”
“Damn.” The word was softly spoken, and D’Arcy picked up the phone and punched a number. “Get someone to radio the chopper on its way to Black Rock,” he said with cold urgency. “Tell them to divert to our safe house in Casper. Callahan and McKinnon are on their way there.” He listened for a minute. “That’s right. And tell that chopper team Callahan will be expecting them.” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly at Cody, who nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
“Four attempts,” Cody said. “Two dead.”
D’Arcy nodded. “They’re batting .500.”
“No sir,” Keira said swiftly. “They’re batting .333. As far as we know, at least.” When both men looked at her, she reminded them, “There were six names on the list, not four. That’s what Callahan reported Tressler told him.”
“That’s right,” Cody said, snapping his fingers. “Brockway, DeSantini, Callahan and me—that’s four. Who are the other two? They’ve got to be connected to Pennington in some way.”
D’Arcy said, “Those four are easy. Brockway and DeSantini—they put Pennington in jail the first time. Callahan testified against Pennington. He also killed him, with your help,” he told Cody.
