Page 80 of Delusional

I said, “I don’t recall ever harassing you. But if you refresh my memory, maybe we can work something out.” My hope was that I could put the guy at ease long enough for some help to show up. The problem with that theory was that no one who could really help knew where we were. Even if Maggie had been able to call it in, I realized I might be talking to this guy for a long time.

“Stand up,” the man commanded.

I attempted to leave the bomb on the ground at first, but he told me to keep it in both of my hands. I didn’t have much of a choice. I was trying to project a feeling of calm. A lot easier said than done. Especially with the image in my mind of the bomb blowing me to pieces. I was probably shaking as badly as the guy with the remote in his hand.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Let’s just say I’m a friend of Pry’s.”

“I could’ve figured that out on my own. What can I call you?”

The man screwed up his face and looked at me. “Why don’t I hand you my driver’s license? Or maybe you’d like me to write up a search warrant for you. Typical cop, looking for ways to harass the little guy while the big criminals are free to do whatever they want.”

I said, “I agree with you to a point. I think there are a lot of people who break the law, then use their influence and money to get away with it. But that’s more of a judicial issue than a law-enforcement issue. Maybe we could talk about it.”

“I’m done talking to you. I don’t mind killing a cop for the cause.”

At least I knew exactly where I stood with this guy.

CHAPTER 100

TOM OWENS WASN’T certain of what he’d been trying to achieve by running toward the house. Maybe he just wanted to be near Kimmy. But it hadn’t worked out. The small Asian woman had tackled him when he was still about eight steps from the front door.

Owens had recognized Michael Bennett as soon as he stepped out of the car. The detective was much taller than he’d expected him to be. Once Ellis Warrenton ran, Owens figured that might be a good idea too. Now, as the woman police officer wrenched his arms behind his back and handcuffed him, he wasn’t so sure.

“Mr. Owens, my name is Maggie Chin. I’m an agent with the ATF. You’re under arrest. Do you know why?” The woman pushed him from one side to the other on the ground and searched him roughly.

“My association with Leonard Barr?”

“So you’re not one of those supersmart guys who doesn’t pay attention to your own liabilities. You nailed that answer on your first try.”

The woman proceeded to read Owens his rights. He listened carefully to hear if he could find a mistake in her procedure, or if she tripped up some other way. When the ATF agent finished flawlessly, Owens conceded this was not the first time she’d made an arrest. She was a pro who knew what she was doing.

“Can I get up?” he asked.

“I think it’s better if we stay here in the front yard until we get some assistance. I made a call to the local police. They should be showing up anytime.” She helped Owens sit up straight, but his hands remained securely handcuffed behind him. He blew a couple blades of dead grass off of his face. The ATF agent kindly assisted by brushing off the rest.

She asked, “Do you have any idea where your partner was running to? Do you guys have another house in the neighborhood?”

“Ellis is not my partner. He’s not my friend. He’s not even my associate anymore. And he’ll be very disappointed if he tries to detonate the bomb in that satchel.”

“What bomb?” There was urgency in her voice.

Owens glanced over the ATF agent’s shoulder and saw Kimmy slip through the back of the house and out the fence gate in the rear of the yard. He started to smile. One of the first genuine smiles he had felt in months. Then he tamped it down. He didn’t want the ATF agent to notice he was smiling and ask why. He wanted Kimmy to be free of this mess.

The ATF agent repeated, “Tell me about the satchel bomb.”

“I used up the rest of our C-4 and packed it with steel nuts and bolts.”

As Owens said it, he realized he probably shouldn’t be saying anything at all. He was probably already in trouble. It was best to sit quietly and see what developed.

CHAPTER 101

I TOOK A moment to really look at the man with the remote. He appeared to be in pretty good shape. Certainly not starving. He was even well dressed. Typical middle-class kid just playacting as an anarchist, I deduced.

At the root of things, that was what guys like this really were: anarchists. People who didn’t understand or respect the functions of the government. People who didn’t appreciate how difficult it was to govern a country that covered so much land and had such a diverse population. People who preferred to cause chaos. Of course, few so-called revolutionaries in history had ever stopped to think about the consequences of their actions.

All I could do was say, “Cause? What cause? You ever think about the families, the children left behind from your stupid cause? This isn’t TV. Kids grow up without their parents because of people like you.”