South of Eugene, Oregon
March 29
As Danya steadied the blood-coated blade between her feet and cut the plastic ties binding her hands, Peter retrieved the FN shotgun. “You two better move out of the way,” he said as he swung the muzzle at the flight control console. Abresch and the co-pilot dove for the floor just ahead of the first shot.
The count-down timer read 0:29.
Peter fired the shotgun into the computers and electronic equipment. The next shell loaded even before he recovered from the recoil. He fired again… and again… and again, until the magazine was empty. Then he reloaded from the bandoleer hanging across his chest and continued the onslaught, sending a violent barrage of slugs and buckshot into the equipment. Sparks emanated from some of the many ragged holes. The monitors were all smashed, and the timer was frozen at 0:02.
Diesel eyed the pilots suspiciously. A deep, guttural growl was sufficient to send Abresch and her partner to their knees with their hands on their heads.
“Easy, Diesel,” Peter said. He faced Danya. “You okay?”
She tilted her head to the side. “That was close.”
“It’s not over. Law enforcement should be on the way.”
Danya contemplated the meaning of Peter’s warning. “Detective Colson doesn’t have jurisdiction here. And the Eugene police can’t be trusted.”
“If she managed to pull it off, it will be federal agents. You should go. Slip out while you can. I’ll cover for you.”
“You’d do that? Even with our history?”
Peter cracked a sly grin and handed over the FN shotgun. “Yeah. Exactly because of our history.”
She returned the grin. “Thanks for returning my tomahawk and shotgun.”
“Thanks for bringing Diesel. How’d you do that? I’m surprised he’d go with you.”
“Kate made it clear the choice was up to him. I don’t know why he came along, but he did.”
Peter rubbed Diesel’s head. This was just another example confirming his belief that Diesel was keenly in tune with him, and that he understood people at some basic level, maybe body language or pheromones. He didn’t know. But somehow Diesel, more often than not, got the message.
“You know,” Danya continued, “you need to let go and move on. Kate won’t wait forever.”
It was a subject that Peter considered off limits. He rarely discussed his relationship with Kate even with his best friends and children. For Danya, almost a stranger, to bring it up caught Peter off guard. And it stung.
“When did you become an expert on relationships? Seems to me you have plenty of personal baggage of your own.”
“I do. That’s why I know what I’m talking about. Look, you can’t change the past any more than I can, any more than anyone can. We all make choices. Some are good, some aren’t. Sometimes life deals us a crappy hand. Regardless, you have to move on. Accept the past. Learn from it. But above all, don’t give up on life.”
“Spoken with conviction.”
“In case you haven’t figured it out already, I’m really good at killing people. But when it comes to relationships, I get an F. You don’t want to make the mistakes I have.”
Peter nodded. Her words carried a lot of weight, and he vowed to seriously consider them. “What are you going to do?”
“What I’ve been doing since we first met on Broken Top. Fly below everyone’s radar, stay on the move.” She shrugged. “It was the choice I made when I aborted the mission and stopped reporting to my superior.”
“And if you’d completed your mission?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d be dead, and I’d probably still be working for Mossad. But I chose otherwise. No regrets. None.”
“Can’t your government just accept that you no longer work for them?”
She smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I wish it was that simple. But the truth is that no one quits Mossad. There is a price on my head. Alive is better so I can be interrogated, but dead will suffice.”
“I’m sorry, Danya.”
“For what? Like I said, it was my choice.” She paused, reflecting on her reasoning, what brought her to this point. “I realized that I was a pawn. Sometimes what I did was good. My work saved innocent lives. But that wasn’t always the case. And when I woke up to that understanding, I made a decision.” She smiled again. “I have no regrets, Peter Savage.”
“Godspeed, Danya. Remember, you always have a friend in Bend. Two, I guess, counting Diesel.” That drew a polite laugh from Danya. “You better go now. I’ll wait outside for the FBI and stall them. Get as far away from here as you can.”
Peter extended his hand and Danya accepted it. Her grip was firm and unyielding, like her spirit. In that brief moment they shared an unspoken understanding. Two individuals with a common code of honor, who had found themselves, through a quirk of fate, on similar pathways. Neither could stray from the course they had charted any more than they could willfully change their DNA. Two different individuals, from different cultures, but forged with the same moral fiber.
s
Outside the barn the air was reverberating with the approaching helicopter. The letters FBI were boldly displayed on the side. It landed on the lawn and three agents dressed in slacks and wearing FBI windbreakers exited. Detective Ruth Colson was the last out. With guns drawn, they spread out, searching for danger.
Peter was standing next to the barn, Diesel by his feet as usual. The dog growled at the approaching agents. “Easy, boy.”
“Drop your weapons!” Someone shouted.
“I’m unarmed,” Peter announced as he raised his hands.
“On your knees! Hands on your head!”
“My God,” a second agent exclaimed. “It looks like a war zone here. I’m calling in backup.” He keyed his radio and stepped away as he began his preliminary report.
Diesel was getting anxious, a throaty rumble escaping his clenched teeth. “It’s okay, boy,” Peter said as he complied with the orders.
“Is that dog safe?” one of the FBI men said.
“He’ll follow my commands, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s okay, agent,” Detective Colson said as she stepped forward. “This is Peter Savage. I’ll vouch for him. It’s his phone we tracked.”
Peter nodded. “Never thought I would say it, but it’s nice to see you detective.”
“You really do have a knack for getting into serious trouble.”
“I’m not looking for it, believe me. I’d much prefer a boring, ordinary life.”
“Yeah, sure. I guess shit happens, is that right?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Colson made a show of looking left and right. “And where, pray tell, is your partner?”
Peter squinted his eyes. “Who?”
“Don’t get cute with me, Mr. Savage. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Danya. She called me, and we had a very interesting conversation. She also turned over Darnell Price.”
“Sounds to me like she was a valuable asset that helped you and your friends,” Peter motioned with his head to the agents surrounding him, “thwart this terrorist attack.”
“That’s beside the point. She is a potential witness, and we need to question her.”
“What you really mean to say, is that she is wanted from the prior affair on Broken Top, right? I’m the person who had first contact with Darnell Price, and I’m the one who was kidnapped by Dr. Ming and involved in the ‘incident’ here. You’ve got me, that’s all you and the DA need.”
“Just to be clear, this will most likely fall under federal jurisdiction.”
“Good. Because if I’m not mistaken, that unmarked police car over there,” Peter pointed at Jackson’s car, “belongs to a crooked Eugene detective.”
Colson rolled her eyes. “This just gets better and better.”
“It’s exactly what I told you on the phone.”
“Well, that and the fact that this is being reported as attempted bioterrorism—”
“Which it is,” Peter interrupted. “Inside that drone wreckage just beyond the police car is evidence you’ll need. The virus they planned to seed over the Hayden Bridge water treatment facility.”
“That’s why the FBI is likely to take charge of the investigation.”
“Fine. I really don’t care who runs the investigation. Just make sure they’re professional and take this seriously. You’ve got a lot of dead bodies here, and some who are still alive. You’ll find more of the virus agent in refrigerators inside the building, and a massive computer and flight control center. The plan is vast, spanning the country, but the drone control was to have been from here.”
“Was? Is there still a credible threat?”
“Have the fed techs check it out, but I don’t think so. I shot up the electronic equipment pretty good.”
“I see,” Colson frowned. “Is there anything left for forensic analysis?”
“Plenty. When you go inside, you’ll understand. Now, if you and the feds don’t mind, I’m just going to lie down here on the grass and take a nap. It’s been a long day. When you’re done, I’d like a ride back to Bend.”
“It might take some time to process the crime scene.”
“I know. But I’m guessing that the FBI won’t just park that chopper here. As an asset it’s too valuable to leave sitting at a farm south of Eugene.”
“You want the helicopter to transport you to Bend?”
“Hey, my car is totaled at a drug lab somewhere out by Burns in eastern Oregon. It’s either the helicopter or Uber.”
“Okay, okay,” she held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll see what I can do.”