“It got Tommy interested, so they went over and looked in the parking lot trash barrel.” He took another object from his attaché case, a clear plastic envelope about a foot square, marked with black grease pencil. “The barrel was emptied yesterday evening, and this morning, except for a garbage bag, this is all he found in it. Tommy worked for the Yakima tribal forester. They used envelopes like this to carry aerial photos in, when they made forest examinations.” He handed it to Lor Lu.
“According to Espinoza, this cast some light on Krause’s conversation. When Espinoza mentioned getting shot in the knee during the Lagos Rescue, Krause’s eyes had lit up for a moment, as if he was really interested. Espinoza thought he was going to ask something about it, but he didn’t. He never mentioned the military in the two hours they were together.
“Espinoza said that by hindsight, the guy sounded almost as if he was establishing an identity. And he asked questions about the guards; said maybe he’d apply for a job.
“When he came back for supper, Krause mentioned talking with other people camped out there. One was in a camper rig, and there’s only one out there now. I talked to the owner, a fellow named Johnston, and asked him what they’d talked about. He mentioned Krause asking about the guards, too, telling the same story. Johnston’s an ex-Marine, an older guy dating from the Gulf War. He said he took for granted that Krause was ex-military, not too long out. That he’d just seemed that way. Some elite outfit, he thought. Rangers or airborne, because he didn’t know a marine term Johnston used, though otherwise he had no trouble with military terms. But when Johnston asked him if he’d been in, he said no.
“Another person Krause talked to was a single guy in a tent, and Krause asked him about the guards.”
“But the men on the tower didn’t spot anyone?”
“Right. But at that distance from the tower, a guy alone might not be detected. The grass is crotch-high out there, and to the west and south, he’d have been covered by terrain part of the time.
“I realize the evidence is thin, but it seems to me Lloyd Krause was casing the place. He probably hiked the fence during the night, and maybe snooped the Cote, then left. Jimmy Ramirez came on gate duty at 6 a.m., and he knew what the plastic envelope is too. He’d used them in land-suitability mapping on the Jicarilla Reservation.”
Lor Lu picked up the envelope and examined it. Then holding it to his forehead, he closed his eyes. “A big man,” he said. “Blue eyes. Sandy brown hair. Unshaven but not bearded. A late-level young warrior of mild disposition, not intrinsically violent.” He paused. “But impaired in recognizing others as being persons like himself.”
He opened his eyes, looking up at Knowles. “You’d like this man. I would. But he intends us harm. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m going to phone Major Ennerby at Fort Carson. He’s my contact there. He called a couple of weeks ago and told me the new anti-terrorist platoon was in place, ready to go. It hasn’t been used yet—hadn’t then anyway. I’ll get in touch with him right now, and tell him what we’ve learned—and surmised. We’ll see what he says.”
18
Today the Vatican announced that next July, Pope John XXIV will convene the Third Vatican Council, to be titled “Transition to a New Era of Human Spirituality.”
Headline News
Oct. 19
In certain circles, Jack Russell was a man of importance. Until a few years earlier, he’d been a “captain” in the Irish Republican Army’s long-disowned terrorist wing. He’d been responsible for planning and overseeing a number of bombings and assassinations, notably in England. Finally he’d left Ireland, partly because of the good work of Joseph Cardinal Flannery, now John XXIV.
For despite the Cardinal’s hard-won amnesty for such as Jack Russell, the captain refused to live in an Ireland containing an autonomous Ulster, even under the constitution of Eire. Each night in his prayers, he cursed Joseph Stephen Flannery for his interference, and Gerry Adams for his perfidy.