CHAPTER 16

THE BIG HORN COUNTY Courthouse was built in 1917 and 1918, a sandstone structure with tall concrete columns along the top of twenty-five wide steps.  Three architecturally-similar buildings formed a promenade lining a parcel two blocks long on the north side of C Street.  The courthouse was flanked by the county library to the west and the post office to the east.  The original library, funded by a Carnegie grant, was built in 1910, and the post office—a national historic building—was built about the same time.  The library was replaced in the 1950s by a larger, modern facility still sporting two Civil War cannon.  Since the end of World War II the city fathers—during the Christmas season—ordered colored lights strung from the courthouse to the other two buildings and the street.  It made for a remarkable display for a small town.

Before any of the county buildings had been constructed, Jan’s grandfather had built a two-story sandstone building on Main Street, kitty-corner from what would become the post office lot.  His building housed the first bank and first mercantile store in Basin.  Jan’s family had lived in the upper story for a while after World War II when he was in grammar school after they moved to town from the ranch.  His mother had sublet several rooms on the second floor as apartments for oil patch workers.  The building currently housed the Fraternal Order of Eagles on street level; the upper floor was now condemned.

Inside the courthouse, marble floors led to two oak-paneled courtrooms upstairs and the sheriff’s office in the basement.  On Monday—six days after he had taken up residence at Ginny’s—Jan sat, with Monster and George Olson around Monster’s desk, sipping coffee from paper cups.  Jan wore his shirt buttoned to the top, in spite of the heat, attempting to obscure the bandages on his neck.  Monster leaned back in his chair, his lizard boots on the desk.  In the middle of the desk a box of donuts from the bakery in Wheeler’s Market gave off a light, maple aroma.  Beside the box of donuts a speakerphone emitted the voice of Granny Grandolf from Seattle, describing the microwave system used by the Church of the One Mighty and Strong.  Chuck Black, at his home in Hardin, Montana, was also part of the conference call.

“The first thing is that there are no FCC licenses issued to C1MS or any of its officers, and I’ve discovered they are broadcasting on Spread Spectrum transmitters…”

Monster interrupted, “Talk English, Granny.”

“OK.  Spread Spectrum is a coding protocol that allows very secure transmissions over low power transmitters that are supposedly good up to thirty miles, but they can be boosted to near double that.  Under Title 47 of the FCC rules these transmissions are unlicensed.”

George Olson interrupted, “They are probably Lynx transmitters using a fast chip rate and a code 127 bits long.  We eat that stuff for lunch.”

“I imagined that, my man,” Granny said.  “You won’t have any trouble decoding the stuff if we can figure out how to intercept it.  But I can’t figure that out from here.”

Monster said, “We know where the transmitters are.  The signal goes from the compound to Heart Mountain north of Cody, then back to the Medicine Wheel.  That’s because Medicine Wheel is not line-of-sight from the compound.  From Medicine Wheel it goes almost into Chuck Black’s backyard on the Crow Reservation and then to Billings.  We do not have the Billings location pinpointed, but I’m sure it’s on the north rim somewhere.”

Granny whistled.  “I guess I’m going to have to reevaluate my opinion of the sagebrush coalition, Sheriff.  Sounds like you folks can do some good detective work from the back of a horse.  So where will you want to intercept?”

“Well,” George Olson answered, “the sheriff and me agree that the signal needs to be shot to an antenna here on the roof of the Big Horn County Courthouse.  The only possible single link would be from the Medicine Wheel location.  It’s thirty miles exactly line-of-sight and downhill all the way.”

“Downhill doesn’t make any difference.”

“I think George is joking, Granny,” Jan said.

“Oh,” Granny said, “I get it.”

“So, Granny,” Jan asked, “I guess you know what equipment we need and can get it.  Big question: what about installation?”

“What is the layout of the site?”

“John,” Jan said, “why don’t you cover that?”

“OK,” Monster said, “This is a fifty-foot tower and a cabin.  The cabin houses a watchman who keeps the generator running and maintains two-way radio contact with the compound, which is less than twenty miles south at the foot of the mountain.  The microwave transmitter is located in a small enclosure at the base of the antenna.  There are two, 27-by 31-inch directional grid antennas on the top of the tower.  One pointed at Heart Mountain, one pointed at the Crow Reservation.”

“Hmmm.  How far is the cabin from the tower?”

“Adjacent.”

“Well, you have a problem.”

“I’m sure we have lots of problems,” Monster said.  “What’s the first one?”

“Well,” Granny said, “we can probably tap into the signal at the transmitter.  But how are you going to rebroadcast it?  If the tower is adjacent to the building you’ll have a problem doing anything undetected.  Then you have the problem of stringing a coax cable through the woods to another tower with your own transmitter.”

“No way can we do that,” George Olson said.  “The cabin site is a tiny plot of private land surrounded by Forest Service land.  Nobody is going to erect a tower anywhere near there without clipping through a ton of red tape.  Even if we could do that, we can’t have a wire running off through the grass.  That would look way too suspicious.”

Everyone was silent.

Jan finally spoke up.  “Granny, how big are these transmitters?”

“Small.  Some of them actually can attach to the back of the antenna.”

More silence.

“Granny, there are two antennas on the tower,”  Jan paused.   “How noticeable would a third antenna be?”

“Whoa, dude!” Granny said.  “Of course!  Sure.  That would work!”

“What are you talking about?” Monster asked.

“They are suggesting,” George Olson said, “that we climb the tower and bolt another antenna on.  And I suppose,” he said to no one in particular, “that we would use their generator to power our transmitter.”

“Certainly,” Granny said.  “They’re low voltage—draw only milliamps off the generator.  You would have to string a low-voltage line up the antenna.  It could be done.”

“Would you do it?” Jan asked.

“Never!  This is a job for some big bad cop dude who wants to shoot it out with the guard at the cabin.  That ain’t me, man!”

“What would it take to get the job done?” Jan asked.  “And can you talk the right man through the process?”

“Technically it’s a piece of cake.  A guy who knows how to climb the tower could make a connection to a power lead inside their transmitter housing, run a very small low-power cable up the tower, and clamp the antenna on.  He’d then disconnect the coax off their receiving antenna, stick in a splitter, and connect it to your own antenna.  The work at the top of the tower would take five minutes max, mainly tightening the clamps.  There are some other technical considerations.  I would need a little more information.  I would have to either get a visual of the site or some good photographs, and I also need the model numbers off their gear so I know exactly what we are looking at.  Then I can take a man through a couple of dry runs and he would be able to make the connections—if he didn’t get shot, that is.  The odds are that nobody would notice three antennas instead of two—fifty feet off the ground.  At least until they have to do some maintenance on the equipment.  Then a tech guy would immediately ask questions.”

George Olson spoke up, “Granny, we know what you want.  We can get it.  Let us put our heads together here, and when we come up with an operational plan we’ll get you down here to look things over.  No, on second thought, get the gear and get on a plane with it.  Don’t forget to bring what we will need at the courthouse.  I’m assuming you won’t need the information you are asking for in order to select our transmitter?”

“That’s correct.  I won’t need that until we’re ready to wire into it.”

“OK.  We’ll get what you want.  We need to get this thing going before Hansen goes nuts and blows somebody up.”

“Gotcha, chief.  I’ll be in Billings tomorrow night.  I’ll get you the flight information.”

“Granny, this is Sheriff Broadbeck.  Get me the flight information; I’ll have a man meet your plane.  You got my number?”

“Puh-leeze.”

“Sorry, Granny.  And Chuck, thanks for sitting in.  Looks like we won’t need the Indian connection right now.”

Monster reached over and punched the line buttons on the phone and the speaker went dead.  Everyone sat in silence and stared at the walls.

Finally, Monster spoke.  “Obviously one-wing-Willie,” he said nodding at Jan, “can’t climb the tower.  I could climb it, but it would bend over and the antennas would point at the ground.”

“I’m your man,” George Olson said.  “I have an electronics background and I can climb the tower.  And I can shoot the guard if it comes to that.”

“No, I’ll shoot the guard from the ground,” Monster said.

“Anyway,” George said, “I am half-way there with Granny.  I know what he’s talking about.”

“So how should we proceed?” Jan asked.

“I’ll gather together what stuff we have on file,” Olson said.  “Tonight we’ll penetrate the transmitter housing and get the numbers Granny wants.  Sheriff, when Granny gets here tomorrow night, call me at home and I’ll come down.  I think you should get him within binocular range of the Medicine Wheel site so he can look at the tower and the transmitter housing.”

“You got it, coach.”

“I just have one question,” Jan said.  “How are we going to get up the tower without arousing the guard who is sleeping at the foot of it?”

“Well,” Monster said, “You remember what Teddy Kennedy said to Mary Jo Kopeckne when she asked him ‘What happens if I get pregnant?’”

Jan raised one eyebrow.  “Do I really want to hear this?”

“Teddy said, ‘Mary Jo, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’”