“So you know that under the regs, the gas companies have to monitor their inventory of explosive devices and detonators, like blasting caps. If over a certain number get lost or stolen, they have to report that and they’re subject to fines.”
“Yes, so?” Chris knew all this and it bored him. It was part of ATF routine monitoring under the new Homeland Security regulations, but it was administrative and handled by a separate team in the office.
“So you know how this works, we send agents out there, they inspect the gas companies’ operations. We fine any company that has an excessive theft report, which, business being what it is, sometimes they cheat. They underestimate the number of blasting caps that were lost or stolen to avoid the fines.”
“Okay, so what? Somebody is lying about the blasting caps? Take away their FEL. Recommend they be prosecuted.”
“If that’s all it was, we wouldn’t be shutting you down.”
Alek interjected, “Yes, we would.”
The Rabbi ignored him, continuing, “So we got a report from a resident of Headley, a town up there, that while he was hunting, he found a burn site. He figured it was a burn pile or maybe kids playing with fire, but when he started digging, he found blasting caps. He called the locals, who called us.”
Chris felt his gut tense, knowing that it was a valid cause for concern. Domestic terrorists who made IEDs typically field-tested their explosives, leaving burn sites and testing grounds, sometimes killing even small animals or neighborhood pets. Still he wasn’t going.
The Rabbi continued, “We sent some agents up there to talk to the gas companies and double-check their inventory of blasting caps. Long story short, we found out that somebody’s been stealing blasting caps, just under the amount that would trigger the reporting requirement, from different drilling sites in the area around Headley. And one of the companies reported theft of Tovex.”
“Again, so?” Chris knew Tovex was a water-gel explosive used instead of TNT. “Are they finding reports of stolen fertilizer? They still need an oxidizing agent.”
“No, but there’s not much farming up there anymore.” The Rabbi pursed his lips. “Curt, I know you’re committed to your operation. I know you believe in it, and you think you’re onto something. But it’s time for triage. We need you up north. You have to admit, this alters the cost–benefit analysis.”
“But you have no plan to deploy me. I can’t get undercover in a day. And with whom? Do you have any suspects?”
“Not yet, and granted, we don’t have a specific role for you as yet. We have to get up there, see which end is up, and figure out the best way to deploy you. It may not be undercover at all. We need all hands on deck.”
Chris had a random thought. “What if the blasting caps are related to my operation? To my fertilizer?”
Alek interjected, “It’s up north. It’s two different places, two different types of places. One had nothing to do with the other.”
“It’s only two hours away,” Chris said, thinking out loud. “Look, I know that one of my kids stole fertilizer, it’s on that video. What if someone down here in farm country is getting the fertilizer, and someone up there is getting the blasting caps? Together they go boom. Let me work it from my angle, and you guys work it from yours. I need to get into that locked shed. Did you set up the work-around?”
Alek interjected again, “There’s no work-around, I wouldn’t authorize it. There’s no point and there’s no time.”
The Rabbi’s face fell. “Curt, we need you to come with us.”
“I can’t go, I’m not going,” Chris shot back.
Alek threw up his hands. “You’ve lost your mind! We have confirmed intel that there’s a testing ground upstate, but you’re going to play with high-school kids?”
Chris stood his ground. “Alek, you said I had three days. I have one day left. Do without me for one day.”
The Rabbi frowned, interjecting, “Curt, one day is all we have.”
“It’s all I have, too, and I’ve come this far. I swear to you, I’m close.”
“We’re closer. You’re our best agent. We need you.”
Chris had never gone against the Rabbi’s advice, though he’d gone against orders from even more annoying bureaucrats than Alek. But Chris’s gut was telling him to stay, and so was his heart. Maybe it was time for him to grow up. “Rabbi, I’d do anything for you. I’m sorry, I can’t turn my back on these kids. If they’re involved, if they’re being used, then I’m gonna protect them. Because they’re my boys.”
“Curt, I’m your boss, too. Don’t make me order you.”
“Don’t make me call in my chit. You owe me one. I’m asking now.”
“You’re gonna do that to me?” The Rabbi looked like he’d been punched in the gut.
“Yes, really.” Chris didn’t have to remind the Rabbi of the story. The only man Chris had ever killed was in his very first operation, when he and the Rabbi were undercover in a ring of dangerously violent gunrunners. One of the thugs had pulled a gun on the Rabbi, and Chris had revealed his identity as an ATF agent per procedure. The thug had taken deadly aim anyway, but Chris had tackled him, grabbed his knife from his ankle holster, and stabbed him in the throat, killing him. Chris had pulled out the blade too soon, a rookie mistake, but he had saved the Rabbi’s life.
The bust had followed, the gunrunners had been arrested, and an investigation by ATF’s Incident Review Team followed. Chris had been exonerated when they’d found deadly force had been justified, since he’d had a reasonable belief that there was imminent danger of death or serious physical injury. And the Rabbi had never forgotten that Chris had saved his life. It gave Chris a chit that he’d never intended to call in, until this very moment.
Alek exploded. “Curt, you’re an arrogant prick!”
“Keep me posted, Rabbi.” Chris turned away and strode back to his Jeep while Alek ranted and raved, calling after him.
“Curt? Curt!”
Chris climbed into the Jeep, started the ignition, and hit the gas.
Chapter Forty-two
Heather sat at her kitchen table, trying to decide what to do. She had called Mindy, but Mindy hadn’t answered, so she’d left a voicemail introducing herself and asking for a call back, but not giving any details. Heather had followed up with a text, but Mindy hadn’t responded to that either. Then Heather had called Susan, but Susan hadn’t picked up. Heather had left the same voicemail message and follow-up text.