Page 113 of The 9th Man

“I’m so sorry I got you into this, Luke. This is not your fight.”

“I made that choice, not you. And it is my fight now. This is official business.”

She smiled. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Part of my east Tennessee upbringing.”

Eckstein called from downstairs, “Food’s ready.”

After eating and washing the dishes they settled around a crackling fireplace. Outside, snow had fully capped the deck railing.

“How much is expected?” Jillian asked.

“Four or five feet by tomorrow. The wind will pile it into drifts. Spring storms here are ugly beasts. It’ll just sit over us until a warm front pushes through. You two might be here a few days.”

“There are worse things,” Luke said.

“I’m curious about something,” Jillian said. “The Zapruder film. Why is it not threatening to Rowland?”

“Zapruder focused on Kennedy’s car, not the trail car. I guarantee you, if he hadn’t been so tight on Kennedy’s car that film would have never seen the light of day. Charles Rowland would have done something. And I didn’t mean to scare anybody earlier. Take comfort. Thomas Rowland is old and will be dead soon enough.”

“What does that do to your book?” Luke asked.

“Nothin’, since I doubt that old man is ever going to talk about this to anyone. We made a reasonable effort to contact him. That’s all we have to do. So we publish and see what happens.”

“I have a problem with him dying and getting away with killing Benji,” Luke said. “That is hard to swallow.”

Jillian said, “One of Benji’s favorite phrases was,Choose carefully the mountain on which you want to die. I’ve chosen mine. I have another kind of justice in mind for Thomas Rowland. More biblical in nature.”

He stared at her.

And got it. Deuteronomy 19:21.

You must show no pity. Life for life.

57

4:15P.M.

TALLEY STARED UP AT THE LEADEN WYOMING SKY. MORE SNOWwas coming from the north. But the question became, was it flyable? He knew the Sikorsky was a good helo with both FLIR—forward-looking infrared radar—and night vision. However, neither of these mattered without a good stick pilot, and Talley had two of the best, former 160th Special Operations Night Stalkers. Still, wind shear in these parts was going to be unpredictable.

The Sikorskys were fueled and ready for his men, who were awaiting his order to lift off. ETA would be thirty minutes, with a headwind. He could see they would have to come in from the south, low and fast. The locale was perfect. Isolated. Private. Plenty of fresh snow to keep the curious and the official away.

“Load up,” he called out.

His men climbed into one of the Sikorskys. He was the last to board and slammed the cabin door shut.

The pilot started the engines.

Rotors spun.

Then they lifted off into the afternoon air.

***

LUKE STOOD ON THE EXTERIOR DECK AND SOAKED IN THE COLD.Snow continued to drift down, but not in a heavy fall. It was midafternoon but from the overcast sky and semi-darkness it seemed more like twilight.

Off toward the barn the horses rustled.

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