61

Marcus admired Yazzie’s silver and gold Colt Peacemaker as he rounded the corner into the small storage that the police captain had converted into an interrogation chamber. Yazzie was now tied in the center of the room to another chair out of the same kitchen table set that he had been earlier, except that Marcus had made sure that the nylon rope was wrapped in such a way to make it nearly impossible for his captive to get free. The faux police captain’s weapon was an exquisitely-detailed replica Peacemaker. Silver plated with gold accents. The handle was pearl with the infinity symbol made from a snake devouring its tail in the standard eight shaped infinity sign. Marcus noticed the exact same symbol had been tattooed on to Captain Yazzie’s wrist.

Walking over to the corner of the room where the old table and chair set had been stacked to collect dust, Marcus grabbed another of the chairs, carried over in front of Yazzie, wiped the dust away, and sat down. The pistol still in his hand, he said, “I love the Colt. Did you do the modifications yourself?”

Yazzie didn’t respond.

Without looking up, Marcus continued, “An old time Colt Single Action Army revolver. 4 and 5/8 inch barrel. I’ve seen guns with the sights filed down, but nothing as perfect as this. And you removed almost all of the knurling on the hammer. This is a fast draw competition gun.”

Yazzie still didn’t respond. Marcus looked up at the police captain and chuckled. He said, “Oh yeah, I forgot about the gag.” Then he reached out and pulled a black Nike sock from Yazzie’s mouth. Giving it a shake and slipping off his combat boot, Marcus slid the sock back onto his bare foot and replaced the boot.

Yazzie didn’t bother with any posturing, he merely scowled and said, “I do all of my own gunsmithing.”

Marcus rolled the smooth cylinder over his left forearm. He closed his eyes and listened to the perfection and precision of Yazzie’s work. He said, “You’re an artist. The way you have the gun modified, and as fast as you are, makes me wonder if you were ever in any of those cowboy fast draw competitions.”

“Not any of the legal ones. Those are just about trophies and bragging rights. The illegal ones are about money. I’d rather have money than a bunch of strangers stroking my ego.”

Marcus had heard about illegal fast draw competitions where men and women wore ballistic vests and then went head-to-head with opponents in an Old West style showdown. Instead of shooting targets with wax bullets, as they did in legitimate fast draw competitions, the underground players shot real people with real bullets. The dangers were obvious, and you could bet on it; which was a perfect combination for clandestine bloodsport.

Yazzie said, “Listen, Agent Williams, we’re on the same side here—”

Marcus cut the statement short with a little quick-draw of his own. He snatched the Ka-Bar knife from his belt and, with practiced speed and precision, stabbed the tip into Yazzie’s leg at approximately the same spot where Yazzie had cut him earlier. Then, just as quickly as he had pulled and thrust the knife, Marcus ripped the blade free and replaced it in his holster. Yazzie cried out in pain both as the blade entered and exited his body.

Marcus said, “Sorry, I just needed to feel like we were on equal footing during this discussion. Although, I do still owe you a scorpion sting. Harvey? You still skittering around here?”

Breathing hard, his words coming out in short bursts, Yazzie said, “Let’s get to your point. I’m not a real cop. I’m more of a security guard. Not employed by the Navajo Nation. I’m employed by John Canyon. Just like everyone else in this valley.”

“Your employer’s about to have a real bad day, which means that there’s going to be a lot of people out of work tomorrow. Or worse.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. John’s a resourceful man.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that. In fact, the more I think about this case, the more I think that the man Maggie came here looking for isn’t necessarily the one who ended up taking her. All she had to do was come up here asking questions about John Canyon and what kind of operation he was running. Maybe what he was doing twenty years ago? That’s all it would take. A federal agent asking questions. Guy like Canyon might kill her first and ask his questions later. So, right now, I don’t care about the old case she was digging into. I don’t care about justice. I don’t care about Canyon and his drugs. All that matters to me is finding Maggie. So that’s what I want to know. Do you know where she is or what happened to her?”

“Canyon may be a killer, and he may have his men kill for him. But I don’t kill for him. I may not be righteous enough to be considered law enforcement by a belegana like you, but I do my best to keep the peace under inherently crappy circumstances. And don’t forget that there are a lot of people who have good lives here, better lives than they could have ever hoped for. Maybe you should consider them for a second before you go pissing in the oasis that Canyon’s built.”

Marcus felt his muscles involuntarily tensing as his rage rose. “You don’t seem to be understanding me. I don’t care about any of that. All I care about right now is finding Maggie. When I set my mind on something, I’m kind of like a bullet fired from a high-powered rifle. I don’t go veering off course. I don’t get distracted with other stuff I find along the way. I just fly straight and true and hit my target, shredding anything that gets in my way. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time… Where is Maggie Carlisle?”

Yazzie replied, “I’ve already told the feds and your partner, that I have never even seen this woman. And I can’t tell you where she is now.”

Marcus punched Yazzie square in the jaw and said, “Every time that you lie to me, I’m going to hurt you. Do you understand me? My partner likes to do a lot of talking in situations like this or use some type of elaborate torture device that hasn’t been in fashion since the 1600s, but I’m more of a straightforward kind of guy. If I need information out of you, I’ll get it out the old-fashioned way. With a pair of brass knuckles and a hammer. I’ll start with the knuckles and beat you to a bloody pulp. And then, if you’re not in a coma yet, we’ll move on to the bonus round and bust out that hammer. I’ll start with your toes and keep going until I’ve broken every bone in your body. I love doing the little toes first. Those things pop just like a cherry tomatoes.”

With blood in his teeth, Yazzie said, “I’ve never met the woman.”

“I know that you’re lying, Captain. I know that she was in your office. Now, I understand that Canyon may have ordered you to maintain that lie, but your cards are on the table now, so you might as well drop the act.”

Yazzie hesitated, trying to save the lie, trying to figure out how Marcus knew. But Marcus didn’t give him the chance to think, he struck him again using his father’s old brass knuckles. He had to remember to keep his swing at less than 50%, way less, or the crack about putting the police captain in a coma might come true.

He had inherited the brass knuckles from his father. Not the serial killer one who went by the name Thomas White, but his adopted father, an NYPD Detective

In a way, Marcus hated using the brass knuckles that his stepfather may have used in much the same way. But when he and Maggie had gone back to New York recently during an investigation, he had picked up a few things from a storage locker there and had once again come across the brass knuckles. Transporting them was not a problem, since the FBI had loaned them a private jet, and so Marcus had decided to take them along for the ride. He never knew when a weapon might come in handy. And he had always lived by the condom principle: That he would rather have something and not need it, then need something and not have it.

Now, as he wielded his father’s weapons, he couldn’t help but feel a part of the man’s spirit with him as well.

After the blow, Yazzie didn’t spit blood on the floor or cry out or curse. He merely swallowed his own plasma, shook off the attack, and said, “Fine, you win. I surrender. She was in my office. She came in asking a lot of questions about Mr. Canyon and his activities and about a string of serial murders that have been occurring for years in New Mexico and Arizona. I basically told her the official line on John and that I knew nothing about any serial killings. All that was way outside of my jurisdiction. She left, and I never saw her again.”

Marcus considered this. It did seem to gel with the information that Ackerman had overheard and Officer Pitka had confirmed. But Marcus knew that there was more Yazzie wasn’t saying. “And the second she was out of your door, you called John Canyon and told him that a federal agent was there asking questions about him. Maybe she even told you where she was staying. Probably at the casino. So Canyon would’ve had Maggie on a property that he owned, staying in his hotel. And you led him right to her.”

“I was just doing my job. If you want to stand there with blood all over your hands and preach to me, that’s fine, but we both know what it’s like to take orders. What kind of a security guard would I be if I didn’t tell my boss that a federal agent had just come in and was asking about him.”

Marcus replied, “So hypothetically speaking, let’s say that I believe you. And that is a pretty big leap even hypothetically speaking. But if that story’s true, you’re still not telling me everything. Because if you fast-forward up to earlier tonight, I’m sure that after my brother busted his way, literally, out of your police station, I’m positive that a smart guy like you would’ve asked your friend John Canyon what he did with the information you gave him. So this is your one chance before I get the hammer. You see, I’m a little worried that these brass knuckles may actually give you permanent brain damage, and if that happens, then you can’t answer my questions. But I can work on your toes for hours without damaging the knowledge you have up top. So what did Canyon tell you he did with the agent you called him about? This is the last time I ask nicely.”

Yazzie grimaced back at him and said, “You seem to be pretty comfortable with torture for someone who’s supposed to be a righteous law enforcement officer.”

“Let’s just say I’m no stranger to coloring outside the lines. And like you said, there is no law around here, except for the law that Canyon writes.”

Yazzie said, “I’ve been riding John Canyon’s coattails since high school. I always saw the potential in him. He was a smart, charismatic man with a dream. One that, most of the time, I respected. I guess what I’m saying is, why would I betray my friend, a man who’s trying to save our people? Why would I rat him out to a representative of the same government that has wanted nothing but to subjugate and steal my people’s heritage for centuries now? Why would I give up my career and my home? Those seem like pretty good causes to die for.”

Leaning forward, Marcus whispered, “I thought I made those reasons abundantly clear with the whole hammer and smashing toes like ripe grapes thing.”

“I thought it was cherry tomatoes.”

“Thanks for paying attention. So yeah, all that. I also saw some nice butchering instruments out in one of Canyon’s buildings. Maybe I’ll grab a few of those on the way to pick out a hammer? And let’s get something else clear, Captain Yazzie, your career and your life are already over. Nobody’s just walking away from today. Canyon and his whole operation are through. You’re providing security for a sinking ship. The only question left is whether you’re going to be one who makes it onto a life raft or one that goes down with the boat. Maybe you can still walk away from this. Tell me where she is and everything that you know, and maybe we can work something out.”

Yazzie remained as stone.

Marcus added, “You talk about friends and family, about your people. Well, Maggie is not just my friend or coworker, she’s the love of my life. And I’ve pretty much done nothing but screw things up with her from the first moment we met. So I want you to understand. I want this to be perfectly clear. There is nothing I won’t do to get her back. I may not enjoy it like my partner would, but that doesn’t mean I’m not any good at it.”

Yazzie laughed. “And you think your partner—or is he your actual brother as you mentioned—” Marcus had noticed when he misspoke in the heat of the moment, but he had tried to cover and keep going with the hope that Yazzie hadn’t heard. “—You really think that the two of you are going to take on Canyon and a whole army of men?”

“I think my brother and I could take down just about anyone. And from what I’ve seen, Canyon doesn’t have more than a couple dozen guys. That’s hardly an army.”

Yazzie shook his head. “That was before he called in for reinforcements from Mr. Alvarez. You see, he’s the one whose shipment you disrupted. He wants the drugs back more than we do. And I’m afraid that, when his emissaries arrive, they may employ more of a scorched earth policy and just kill everyone. Except for you and your brother. Perhaps they’ll turn some of these interrogation techniques around on you, until you tell them what you did with their merchandise.”

“All the more reason for you to tell me everything you know before they get here.”

“I don’t track your logic.”

“The way I see it, I have nothing to lose. And if you’re right, and an unstoppable force is about to sweep down on this valley. Then all that does is tell me that I need to find Maggie even faster. But even if all that’s true, and this Alvarez is on the way, Canyon’s whole operation is still going down after today. We have friends who’ll have the FBI crawling all over this place by this time tomorrow. No matter how tough Canyon is. He might be able to kill me and my partner. But can he kill the whole U.S. government? That’s what’s coming down on him. Cartel thugs or not.”

Marcus could plainly see the police captain’s wheels turning as he chewed on this information. Yazzie said, “Okay, I’ll tell you everything I know. But before I do, I want the promise of immunity when Canyon goes down.”

Marcus replied, “Fine, you may have to testify. But as long as what you’ve been telling me is true, then I can make that deal.”

“Even if you’re not able to get your missing agent back alive? Would I still have a deal then?”

The question and the tone in which it was asked made Marcus’s heart feel like it was trapped in a vise. Since all this began, since Maggie went missing, from the moment she had taken off, he had never truly felt that he wouldn’t get her back. They had been through so much. They had fought so much. He just couldn’t imagine a world without her. He asked, through clenched teeth, “What are you getting at?”

Yazzie wouldn’t meet Marcus’s gaze but said, “I’m just worried that you’re not going to like what I have to tell you.”

Marcus felt the rage building. The cloud of red was falling across his vision like a shade. His heart pounded so hard that he couldn’t hear himself think. He felt himself losing control. He had been worried about what Ackerman might do, if they were to find evidence that Maggie had been killed, but he had never allowed himself to consider what he would do. And from the way he felt right now, he couldn’t imagine that there were any dark secrets or ancient wisdom or knowledge of medieval torture devices that his brother could bring to the table that would be able to compare with the violence Marcus was contemplating.

Before he fully knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, nose to nose with Yazzie, his hands on each side of the captain’s head. As if in a dream, he felt himself squeezing Yazzie’s skull and screaming, “Tell me where she is!”

Grimacing in pain, Yazzie replied, “Okay, okay, I promise! I’ll tell you everything I know!”