Earthway (38 page)

Ella said nothing for several long moments. “Teeny, put your enhanced
images onto a DVD and bring it to me at the station. I’ve got an idea.”

After leaving her people to process the evidence, Ella left with Blalock.

“Update me,” Blalock said, taking his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. “You’ve got something running through your head, and I don’t like being kept in the dark.”

Ella grunted, busy squirming out of her camouflage pants and jacket, which
she’d worn over slacks and a blouse.

“Okay,
after
you lose the duck-hunter suit,” he added.

Ella tossed the pants and the camo jacket into the back seat, then snapped her seat belt. “I’ll have to get Big Ed’s okay first, but here’s what I want to do. I’d like to release the camera images that show Anna taking the hits and going down and let the press assume that Dr. Lee died in the attack. We’ll
then move Dr. Lee into a safe house. Once she sees what went down tonight, I think we can turn her.”

“You may be underestimating the woman,” Blalock said. “A lot of zealots will take a bullet for the cause.”

“From their own people?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We’ll show her Anna’s vest and let her verify what she sees. She’s smart enough to understand that once her associates find
out she’s still alive, she’ll be nothing more than
a walking target. One thing’s for sure, if Whitefeather
was
her boyfriend, Jane’ll discover right away how much he
really
cares. . . .”

Once at the station, Ella and Blalock went directly to the chief’s office.

Ella gave Big Ed a full report, then added, “I’d like permission to put my plan in motion. I called Bruce on the way in, and he’s
going to make sure we have exactly what we need.”

Big Ed leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin absently. “I hate to purposely mislead the press. In the past, that’s always come back to haunt us.”

“This may be the last shot we’ve got to grab these people. Once the reactor vessel is put in place, it’ll take the equivalent of a Ranger or SEAL team with air support to be any real threat to
the facility, and they know it,” Ella said.

“All right,” Big Ed said. “You’ve got my approval. Let’s make it work.”

Teeny knocked on Big Ed’s open door and came in. “I’ve got the video,” he said, holding up a DVD.

“You made sure no one can tell the victim wasn’t Dr. Lee?” Ella asked.

“You saw the original. This is nearly identical, except I played with the depth of field and filters to make
sure you could read the number and name on the mailbox beside the gate. It was easy enough because that camera angle was set to capture the entire front of the house. Blalock’s in the background, and you come into view from the margins with that assault rifle. That’ll add credibility to the whole package. The segment ends with a freeze frame on the delivery guy—cleaned up as much as possible.”

“All right. We’re going to send the whole thing, digitally, to the
Diné Times
, the Farmington newspaper, the cable channel, and the Albuquerque TV stations and newspaper,” Ella
said. “We’ll also send a request for the public to help us ID the suspect.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” Teeny said.

“We’ll be making our own luck,” Ella said. “What we really want people to see is Dr. Lee going down, and
that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

I
t was close to midnight by the time they moved Dr. Lee out of the cell and into the Crime Scene van via their loading dock. Ella sat on a folding chair beside her.

“I know my rights. I
demand
to see an attorney. You can’t do this. You have to charge me or let me go.”

“Calm down, Dr. Lee. We’re trying to save your life,” Ella said quietly.

Dr. Lee’s
eyebrows shot up. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“We’ll explain as soon as we reach the safe house,” Blalock said from the front, where he sat at the wheel.

Jane Lee’s eyes grew even wider. “Safe house? Why do you think I need that? What’s going on?”

“Let us concentrate on getting you there safely. We’ll explain what you need to know then,” Ella said, keeping her eyes out the rear window,
searching for any possible tail.

Dr. Lee slumped back in the seat and stared at the crime scene gear attached to the sides of the interior.

An hour later they arrived at a cabin in the eastern foothills of the Chuska Mountains, near Owl Spring. The compact
log structure among the tall junipers and piñons belonged to Big Ed. The nearest communities, about equal distance to the east and west,
were Sheep Springs and Crystal, neither of them bustling cities this time of night—or any other time for that matter. Window Rock was the closest big town, if any Rez community could be said to qualify, but that was only as the crow flies—over the mountains and south.

Ella led Dr. Lee inside. “Sit down, please, Professor,” she said, gesturing to the couch.

“I don’t want to sit down. You’re violating
my civil rights. Where are we, and what’s going on?”

“We’re on Navajo Nation land. We could let you go, but if we did, you’d be dead by Saturday,” Ella replied calmly. “We know about your coded e-mails—the use of certain trigger and message words like red rock and
aqalani
—and the other signals you’ve used, like the Coke can on the fence.”

Jane said nothing, her expression still one of defiance,
but it was now mingled with a trace of fear. She was a professional activist, but as a terrorist, Dr. Lee was clearly an amateur.

“We have no intention of allowing an act of terrorism to delay or prevent the operation of the
Tsétaak’á
Generating Station,” Ella said. “What you and your friends are trying to do isn’t going to happen.”

Jane sat perfectly still and said nothing.

“Many things have
changed in the past few days, particularly for you,” Ella continued. “We’re now the only hope you have of staying alive,” she added, recounting what had happened.

Jane stared at her blankly for a moment. “They shot the woman they
thought
was me?”

Ella nodded. “I allowed word to spread that you were cooperating with us. Part of the reason I did that was to show you exactly what kind of people
you’re dealing with. You’re an activist, but they’re terrorists out to further their
own agenda at any cost. Right now they see you as a traitor, so you’re of more value to them dead than alive.”

Jane seemed to crumple before their eyes. “What have you done to my life . . . my future?” she muttered in a barely audible voice.

“We’ve bought you some time by bringing you here, but the second they
realize you’re still alive, they’ll be lining up crosshairs with your head again,” Blalock said.

Jane shook her head. “No, you’re just playing me. None of what you’ve said is true.”

Ella retrieved the DVD from her jacket and placed it inside the laptop Blalock had carried into the cabin.

Jane stared wide-eyed at the screen. “I don’t understand. Our plan
never
included taking lives.”

“You’re
kidding yourself,” Ella said. “You discovered the bug Reverend Tome put in your purse, that pen, and told the others about it, didn’t you? You knew he suspected your involvement in the attempts to disrupt the nuke plant. Soon after that he became their first target.”

Jane broke eye contact and stared across the room. Her eyes were moist.

“Still can’t face the truth? Well, the bomb at the college
was intended to
kill
—a bomb placed in a class full of young people. And now, one of my officers is in the hospital because of it, fighting for his life,” Ella said.

“At least no innocents died,” she said in a whisper-thin voice.

Rage suddenly filled Ella. She picked up the laptop, and called up the photos of Ralph Tache taken for evidence purposes shortly after his arrival at the hospital. They
were the stuff of nightmares.

“This is one of the results of that bomb,” Ella said, shifting the screen toward Dr. Lee.

Jane Lee stared at the photos, stumbled to her feet, ran to the kitchen sink, and vomited.

Ella handed her a glass of water moments later. “Are you okay?” Despite the horrific photos, Ralph was expected to live and most of the scars left behind would respond to plastic surgery.

She nodded. “I swear to you, I didn’t know about the bomb. Minutes before Reverend Ford’s presentation, I got a phone call telling me to go outside. I didn’t know what was going on until much later.”

“Who gives the orders?” Blalock demanded. “Your boyfriend?”

“What boyfriend? I never even met the guy. I just supplied most of the money and stayed quiet, like I was told.”

“Does the name Henderson
Whitefeather mean anything to you?” Ella watched her carefully, reading her body language, but Dr. Lee showed no signs of recognition when she heard the name.

“Sounds Navajo, but I’ve never heard of him. Who is he?”

“How did you get recruited and by whom?” Blalock pressed, not stopping to answer her question.

“A letter was slipped under my office door at school. It praised my work against nuclear
power, and was well written. It spoke of the Church Rock disaster, where a hundred million gallons of radioactive liquids leaked into tribal waterways. People live in those contaminated areas and are subject to its effects. In the letter, I was told that we all needed to do our part to make sure that never happened to our people again. I was asked to join the fight, and told to go to the library
on campus that night. It was signed ‘
ak’is
.”

“Friend,” Ella translated for Blalock. “Do you still have the letter?” she asked.

“No. He advised me to burn it, and I did.”

“So you saw the man? What did he look like?” Blalock pressed.

“I can’t tell you. I only saw what he wanted me to see,” Jane said, then explained. “We were in a public place, right outside the library, but it was dark, and
he was wearing what was clearly a disguise. He had a thick beard and mustache.”

“I’ve never seen a Navajo who could grow a thick beard or mustache. Maybe you’re wrong about him being Navajo,” Blalock said.

“No, I’m right. Although the beard and mustache looked real enough, he spoke to me in our language, and his accent was too perfect for him to have been anything but a Navajo,” she said.

“Did you meet any of the other members of your cell?” Ella asked.

“I know one man, but he doesn’t give the orders. I know that for a fact.”

“What’s his name?” Blalock asked.

She hesitated.

“You have no friends out there now,” Ella reminded her.

“Thanks to you.”

“I’ve read your profile,” Ella said. “You’re an activist because you want to save lives. You don’t take them. Or has that changed?”

“No, it hasn’t,” Dr. Lee said quietly. “I got into this fight because nuclear power always leads to loss of life—one way or another. Despite all the claims, it’s not clean fuel. Think of all the miners who’ve died digging up that yellow earth. There’ll be even more deaths when the stored waste gets out into the environment again—into the air and groundwater. Rocky Flats, WIPP, Los Alamos, Yucca
Mountain, Three Mile Island, all dangerous places for our children, and their children. Somebody has to do something.”

“The causes we champion say a great deal about us. Yet it’s what we’re willing to do—and not do—that define us.” Sensing that Jane’s mind was still not made up, Ella continued.
“You can’t convince anyone you’re trying to save lives if you’re willing to kill the ones you’re trying
to protect. Help us stop these people. Give us a name.”

“John Baker,” Dr. Lee answered at last in a thin whisper. “He’s committed to our cause, but he’s no killer. Go easy on him.”

Ella and Blalock exchanged a quick look, then Ella focused back on Dr. Lee. “You’re wrong about him,” Ella told her. “He’s been busy illegally buying explosives—probably with your money—from a construction foreman
here on the Rez. When he realized that we were on to him, he killed Haske—the man working with us—and tried to take me out, too. I have photos of Mr. Haske, who died, literally, on his own doorstep, if you want to see them. They aren’t pretty.”

Jane stared at Ella in shock. “I don’t understand any of this. How could I have been so wrong?”

“Because you agreed with the cause and
wanted
to believe
the people you saw as your allies. That clouded your eyes and thinking,” Ella said. “To put it simply, Professor, you were used.”

“Why do you know Baker but not the others in the cell?” Blalock asked Jane.

“Security. He and I were supposed to work together. Just before the reactor vessel was scheduled to be delivered, we were to dig up some dead bodies and dump them around the facility to alarm
the Navajo workers. But John didn’t show up when he was supposed to, so I waited. I expected to hear from him fairly quickly but, as of today, not a word.”

“Would you recognize ‘
ak’is
’ voice?” Ella pressed.

Jane took a deep breath, considering it. “I think so.”

Ella stepped away with Blalock. “We need to get a recording of Whitefeather’s voice. I could ask his department for one—their dispatch
system records all their calls—but that’ll tip our hand and could compromise everything.”