Bonner Incident (30 page)

Hitting record, he knew this would be the last easy time he could hit the command area and doubted he would be able to again. “Just want to show you what happens when you mess with my family. It’s 0759, and those down there have thirty seconds to live. To those innocents there, I’m sorry but they are after my family and I will kill them all. I was just a hardworking man till they wanted it all and tried to kill me, and then went after my family. If you stay near them, then you take the chance that my wrath will find you. One man can only be pushed so much and so far, and going after my family was the last straw,” he said zooming in. “Joshua’s war has started,” he said as the area vanished in a fireball.

Down at the command area, teams were gathered around as classes started. The mood wasn’t good since all of the staff from the lodge had left, and then all of the employees had left from the other resorts that the feds had taken over. Breakfast was now cold cereal and bagels, but there was a bright spot. Cooks would be here for lunch and good meals would resume.

The targets that Joshua had spotted were tanker trailers that had been delivered to the command center. Most fuel stations had quit selling the feds any gas by simply closing. Truth be told, the three stations within forty miles could never have supported the operation by supplying fuel. The loss of revenue from the feds taking over the area and the problems they were causing was just too much. So Burrows had called Boise and had a tanker of diesel and one of gas delivered. They were able to say that it was because the local population wasn’t helping, but it was the only way they would be able to sustain over fifteen hundred people. They had to have their own fuel supply.

Generators were necessary because of all of the equipment the feds used, and none of the lodges were wired to supply it. So the diesel tanker was set beside the generators and the gas tanker was placed beside the monster tent because that was the only place it would fit, and it could be watched so the locals wouldn’t steal fuel. Just beside the parking lot where the monster tent was set up in were two, one thousand gallon tanks of propane.

At eight, those closest never heard the explosion that killed them. Four thousand gallons of diesel, three thousand gallons of gasoline were each detonated by twenty-five pounds of explosive. That in turn, set off the two thousand gallons of propane.

The tankers and propane tanks formed a line just over a hundred yards long. Anyone within two hundred yards of this line simply vanished like they’d never existed. The lodge evaporated, along with many of the cabins. From two hundred yards out to three hundred yards, the death rate was close to a hundred percent. A person’s chance of survival didn’t hit fifty percent unless they’d been four hundred yards away.

In the blink of an eye, four hundred and ninety-six souls died. From over a hundred of those, nothing was found and it would be days until the feds were able to tell who wasn’t there. As luck would have it for the Idaho State Troopers assigned to assist, the governor had pulled them out at 0600. For the others, the only luck was for those that had died instantly.

Three miles away on Watson Mountain, Joshua watched the explosion as the two fireball columns joined into one, reaching for the sky. The sound hit him seconds later, actually moving him as he watched a mushroom cloud rise up over the area.

Eight miles away, Sonya and everyone else was sitting at the table eating when the house shook violently for a brief second, rattling the windows so badly that two broke as the soundwave of thunder hit and the Earth itself, shook from the explosion. Many of the pictures hanging on the walls fell off and everyone dove under the table, thinking it was an earthquake.

Thirty miles away in Sandpoint, Buck was walking into his office at the station when the windows rattled a little and then what sounded like thunder rolled over. “What the hell was that?” he mumbled and stepped out to see his secretary looking around in wonder.

Gene was getting off the ground in Sonya’s front yard, looking to the northeast and saw the mushroom cloud rising up. He knew where it was at. “Boys, get ready for shit!” he yelled out as Ben came running out of the house and froze upon seeing the cloud rising up.

“What the hell?” Ben said skidding to a halt.

Gene turned to Ben with a grave face. “Joshua just let them know. He’s mad now.”

Pointing at the cloud, “Gene, there’s no way. There’s not that much explosive around here, it was probably an accident.”

Shaking his head, “No, you’ll see, it was Joshua,” Gene said. “Call the rest of the men helping us guard here. Those with campers, tell them to bring ‘em.”

“Joshua didn’t have a nuke!” Ben shouted as the others came out, gasping at the towering cloud.

Gene looked at Sonya as she staggered off the porch. “Sonya, I’m having Ben call the others helping us guard to stay here for a while. Most live too remote and could vanish rather easily. I want them to bring their campers and the ones that don’t have one, I’ll go over and get the shop set up.”

Realizing what Gene was saying, she turned to him in shock. “No, we will make room. Pull our camper out and set it up,” she mumbled looking back at the cloud. “How in the hell did he do that?”

“Josh couldn’t make that kind of explosion!” Ben shouted.

Sonya turned to Ben with wide eyes, “Yes, he could Ben. They went after his family. Not even a day later, he let them know what happens when they do,” she said turning back to the cloud. “Hell comes to visit them.”

Agent Moore and Griffey were in Nordman standing outside the crime scene of the dead agent when they were almost knocked down by the concussion wave, two miles away.

Number two man, FBI Special Agent in Charge, Timothy Burrows had been filling his SUV with gas, to join them, when the explosion went off.

Chapter Eighteen

It was 0815 when Buck was pulled outside to see the mushroom cloud to the northwest. “Oh my God,” he mumbled turning to Duane, “Get some deputies up there and find out what happened, but don’t pull off the deputies we have at Sonya’s.”

“Buck, what do you think happened?” Duane asked staring in shock at the cloud over the mountain tops. “The deputies at Sonya’s said it broke windows there and could only have come from Elk Lodge or nearby.”

“We don’t know and won’t speculate, is that clear?” Buck said spinning around and heading inside.

“Sheriff, a marine patrol from Lake Priest is on the site,” a deputy shouted and Buck took off running to dispatch.

Busting in the room, the officer held up the microphone. “This is the Sheriff, what do you see?”

“This is Marine Patrol nine, we are near the boat docks and the lodge is gone, sir. It looks like a nuke went off.”

“Marine Patrol, keep your speculations to yourself. Now, what of survivors?”

“Sir, it’s an inferno in here now. It may be spring but the trees, for a mile around where the lodge used to be, are going up in flames. I’m about to put ashore and get as close as I can.”

“Nothing is left of the lodge, is that correct, Marine Patrol?” the sheriff asked.

“Correct, sir. Those big tanker trailers, tents, cars, satellite dishes, I mean everything is gone.”

“You don’t even see the tanker trailers?”

“No sir,” Marine Patrol called back. “We did a drive by at 0700 and photographed the area, and they were both still sitting beside those big fancy tents.”

“Roger, Marine Patrol. You have permission to land as close as you can to check for survivors, but under no circumstances are you to venture into the blast site. I’m calling for air drops from the Forestry Service to start as soon as possible and I don’t want you in that area.”

“Copy Sheriff,” Marine Patrol called back and Buck dropped the microphone, turning around and almost running into Duane.

“How could they blow themselves up, boss?” Duane asked, moving to let Buck pass. “It seems kind of hard to make a blast that big.”

“It is, contrary to Hollywood,” Buck said walking past his secretary. “Get me all rural fire departments and anyone with a tanker plane or chopper to help put out that fire so we can get some help in there. Call Cory and tell him he’s driving me again and I want him here in ten minutes.”

Walking into his office, Buck grabbed his coat. “Duane, get me some firefighters up there and start sending ambulances. I’ll set up a command post at Nordman. Call everyone we have and get them on duty, then get someone to call all of the hospitals in the area and tell them to get ready for mass casualties.”

“All right, you want us to set up a roadblock to keep the looky loos away?”

Grabbing his hat, Buck nodded. “Yeah, set it up where the National Guard was located at Outlet Bay. Unless they live there or are an emergency responder, they don’t get through.”

The secretary came running in, “Sheriff, the aviation captain in Coeur d’Alene wants to speak to you. He says he only has two tanker planes ready to fly, the others are being serviced for fire season.”

“Duane, take care of it and use my office,” Buck said walking past her.

Walking out the front, Buck saw Cory waiting. Opening the door and tossing in the satchel he used for a briefcase, Buck jumped in. “Okay Cory. Same place as yesterday,” Buck sighed and Cory hit the lights and sirens. Glancing behind them, Buck could see other patrol cars and patrol SUVs following them.

“My mom called me from Coolin and said it shook the house,” Cory said, weaving around cars that had pulled over to let them past.

“Marine Patrol said those fuel tankers are gone. I’m just trying to figure out how in the hell they could blow up. Those tankers are designed not to do that even if they caught on fire, so people can escape,” Buck said taking off his hat and running a hand over his head. “Hope you don’t have plans because we aren’t leaving for a while.”

“My schedule is free sheriff,” Cory grinned. “I have to say sir, I like being your partner. Not many rookies can say they were partnered with the sheriff.”

Buck grinned, liking that Cory looked at his assignment as a partner, not a driver. “Well partner, from what I’ve been told, we are going to hell,” he said losing the smile.

“I’ll watch your back sheriff,” Cory said as they were coming to Priest River.

“Glad someone is,” Buck mumbled as his cellphone rang. “Hello,” he answered.

“Buck, it’s Duane. You have two planes in the air now. You’re not going to believe this, but the pilots were there for training. They will beat you there and should have a drop on the site.”

“First good news of the day,” Buck sighed.

“They are calling in one chopper from Spokane and you have a dozen ambulances behind you right now. I’ve got over a dozen air ambulance services ready to roll. Just need a place to set up for landings. Hospitals from Spokane to Missoula and down to Boise have been notified.”

“I’ll get the units with me to close off Highway 57 past Reeder Bay Rd and we can use the highway. Has Marine Patrol nine reported back?”

“Yeah Buck. He can’t get close because of the fire.”

“Tell him to pull out and contact the Priest Lake substation and get some boats on the water. We’ll need people on the ground when the planes get the fire under control enough for us to go in.”

“You be careful Buck. We are law, not firefighters.”

“Duane, like most around here I’ve logged, which means I’ve fought fires during fire season.”

“Ah, yeah, but you’re the boss, so don’t get tied up in hands-on business. Remember, you direct, not dive in.”

Buck grinned, “That’s what I have a partner for Duane. I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”

Hanging up as Cory turned on Highway 57 heading north, Buck tried to prepare himself for what he was about to see. Ten miles outside of Priest River, he saw two tanker planes fly past him, heading north. “Come on boys. Show me how good you are,” he mumbled watching the planes slowly disappear.

Barely slowing down as they blew through Lamb Creek, Cory glanced over at the sheriff. “See sir? If they would’ve just let you handle this, it would all be over.”

“Yes, but that’s not what they wanted,” Buck said and stopped himself before he said anymore. Approaching Nordman, they saw federal vehicles blocking the road. “Pull around them in front of the store,” Buck said grabbing the radio.

“To all units in the area, this is the sheriff. We are going to run this rescue operation because some of our citizens are in there. Any federal officer that tries to stop you from doing that is to be arrested and transported back to Sandpoint for prosecution.”

Tossing the mic down as Cory pulled over, he saw several agents had pulled their weapons. “Cory, if they shoot me, you’d better avenge me,” Buck said grabbing the door handle and getting out.

“Get out of my area!” Griffey bellowed, charging at Buck.

Grabbing the AR from the rack, Cory jumped out and racked the slide, aiming at Griffey as other patrol cars rolled up with deputies jumping out and pulling weapons. “Sir, you will stop or I will fire!” Cory shouted and Buck glanced back, giving a startle to see Cory aiming at Griffey.

“Boy takes me seriously,” Buck said turning to Griffey. “You will move or I’ll move you. Are we clear? I’m here to run this disaster area and you will not interfere or so help me, I’ll bury you in this parking lot,” he growled, hearing the tanker planes making their runs.

“Agents, lower your weapons!” Agent Moore shouted, walking up beside Griffey and pushing him back. He turned to Buck, “Sheriff, we appreciate this,” he said.

“Moore, the road north of this turn off will be used as a landing zone for choppers coming in to airlift the injured. I need you to get your men to close the road a mile down. Unless they are yours or mine, they stay put until further notice.”

Moore spun around and pointed at three men at random. “Get two dozen men, move one mile north and shut the road down. Prepare for evac of wounded!” he shouted and they took off as Buck looked up to see a tanker plane fly over them, banking back towards the lake. “We sent in a team, but they got trapped by the fire,” Moore said.

“We will go in. Have your people hold and set up a triage area. Ambulances will be here in minutes,” Buck said, slowly turning to Moore. “I’m going to trust you out here running this until I get back. You fuck this up, and I will find out if feds can swim with concrete tied to their feet.”

“Sheriff, I will take care of this, I promise you,” Moore said taking off his jacket.

“Cory, lower your weapon and prepare to drive me and another unit in!” Buck shouted while looking at Moore. “Call my office and tell Duane we are setting up triage here at the hotel in Nordman. If I can get through, I’m radioing my deputies to start transporting wounded out and you better be ready to receive them.”

Moore nodded and Buck spun away as Moore started shouting at people, with Griffey staring holes into the sheriff’s back. “Cory, is one of the other rescue patrol rigs with us?”

“Yes sir. Unit thirty.”

Grabbing the radio as Cory turned on the highway. “Unit thirty, follow us and all other units stay back, but get ready to assist in the evacuation of wounded,” Buck called out as another tanker flew over and banked back toward the lake.

“Looks like they are dropping on the road, sheriff,” Cory said driving slow down Reeder Bay Rd heading toward the lake.

“They are, so we can get in,” Buck said in a drone, seeing a plane pull up and fire leaping up over the trees ahead. “Cory, drive slow and if I say backup, you’d better impress your partner.”

Cory only nodded, seeing the leaping flames. “It’s spring, the trees aren’t that flammable now.”

“They are son, if the fire that started them is hot enough,” Buck said.

Three-quarters of a mile from the lake they reached the edge and could tell where the planes had dropped along the road. Seeing people at the houses beside the road, Buck grabbed the radio. “First four cars, come down Reeder Bay to Mandy Lane. We have survivors. When one gets back, another car to follow emptying houses. Use caution, some are on fire. Unit thirty, stop and assist until relieved, sheriff pushing forward.”

“Sheriff, this is Marine Patrol nine with twenty other boats, the tankers have made us a fire-free zone at the beach. Requesting permission to set ashore and look for survivors.”

“Marine Patrol nine, you’re in charge and if you get my deputies hurt, you and I will have words,” Buck said staring ahead at the inferno. “Permission granted, relay back to dispatch your findings so they can coordinate.”

“Roger sheriff.”

After passing the first two houses on Mandy Lane, they didn’t see any more people around the houses, but saw that the houses were on fire with some showing structural damage from the explosion. “Want to check these houses sheriff?”

“No, keep going,” Buck said grabbing the radio and ordering four more patrol cars in and another four to continue down Reeder Bay. Driving over and around debris until they were a quarter of a mile away, Cory stopped.

“Holy shit,” he said, looking ahead. From them, to the lake over four hundred yards away, was a barren wasteland.

Buck grabbed the radio. “Units still in Nordman, we are a quarter mile from lake and need assistance with wounded.”

Dropping the radio, Buck grabbed the door. “Well partner, looks like a shitty day,” he said and opened the door as a tanker plane dumped south of them.

Several hours later from inside the hotel, Moore was directing pickup trucks loaded with wounded to head straight to Coeur d’Alene with a police escort. Helicopters were landing every few minutes as others took off, ferrying the wounded around the area. He had to admit, Sheriff Harper knew what the hell he was doing.

Seeing a deputy walk past, Moore waved him over. “Deputy, Sheriff Harper said to get someone to a county tax assessor’s office and pull the tax records from here so we know how many civilians we are looking for.”

“Yes sir,” the deputy said and moved to his car.

“Only the last three houses on Mandy Lane had people in them,” Griffey said walking up while hanging up his cellphone. “And they were to be out by ten hundred.”

“Come again?” Moore said turning around.

“I ordered all civilians within a mile of the command area vacated, under National Security Directive. With the civilians no longer working in the lodges, I could control who had access to the command area. I didn’t need to have the locals letting Mr. Anderson know what we were doing.”

Closing his eyes, Moore wanted to turn in his retirement papers on the spot. “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

“It was at the 0900 briefing,” Griffey snapped. “In case you didn’t know, it was postponed.”

“Agent Moore,” a deputy said running in. “We have a building in town now that we can start moving the deceased into.”

“Good, find box trucks to do it, so we aren’t driving truckloads of bodies in plain sight. Kids and families don’t need to see that.”

“Yes sir. I’ll call my buddy at the U-Haul place,” the deputy said pulling out his cellphone.

“You’re doing a good job Moore,” Griffey said looking around.

Shaking his head and grabbing a clipboard, “No, Sheriff Harper is doing a good job,” he corrected as a deputy handed him a sheet of paper. “Is this a list of ground or air wounded that have been taken out?” he asked the deputy.

“Air sir,” he said walking out and Moore turned to Griffey.

“Griffey, if you even attempt to act like we set up and controlled this rescue, I’ll burn you.”

“Not my concern,” Griffey said pulling out his phone. “But you are running this show.”

“No, I’m running one little side show. Sheriff Harper is at ground zero running it.”

“I’ve been called back to Washington, I need you to keep me up to date on wounded,” Griffey said tapping a message on his phone. “I cleared those people out so they couldn’t spy and this couldn’t happen Moore.”

Shaking his head, Moore stumbled back. “Huh?”

Putting his phone up, Griffey looked at Moore with a blank face. “This was a terrible accident Agent Moore. BATF has already reviewed drone footage from dawn and has concluded that somehow the tankers caught on fire and blew up.”

“We haven’t even been on the scene, so how could they?”

“That is what happened, Agent Moore,” Griffey said lowering his voice and stepping closer. “Even if it wasn’t, that’s what happened. We can’t acknowledge that we were attacked on this scale, if that’s what really happened, but I’ve been assured that by the time I get to Washington, the BATF will have a plausible explanation.”

Looking around and keeping his voice low. “My God, man. If we were attacked, you can’t sweep that under the rug. I truly doubt it, but you can’t bury the truth.”

Griffey smiled and Moore fought the urge to punch him. Smiling in the event of what had happened seemed beyond callous. “You know yourself that we hide the truth that would hurt. Need I remind you, Agent Moore? You’ve done it yourself.”

“Yeah, and over a decade later, they are still talking about the cover up,” he whispered.

“Talking doesn’t do anything, Agent Moore. The majority will always believe our version, even if it doesn’t make sense. If asked, you refer any questions about the explosion to BATF.”

“If proof comes out, we are finished.”

“It won’t. Now, keep your cellphone close and keep me updated,” Griffey said and walked out.

As Griffey left, Moore glanced at a clock seeing it was almost 1300. “Feels like I’ve been going a week,” he mumbled as another deputy walked in with another list.

“Ground,” he said, dropping it beside the clipboard.

Moore turned to see one of his agents walking in. “You, find a phone and call every hospital in two hundred miles and tell them to make a list of the wounded they have received, and call the FBI office in DC every two hours giving them the names. They can stop when they stop receiving wounded.”

The agent nodded and moved back outside, pulling his cellphone out as Buck walked in and saw Moore behind the counter. “Change of job?” Buck asked.

Moore looked up and Buck was covered in soot. He smelled of fire but by now, everywhere the wounded or the personnel had been smelled like it. “Not yet,” Moore said adding the new numbers. “Have we made it around the perimeter?”