Deliverer

Chapter 15

Sanders' voice was heavy with disappointment. "We're still surveying the area, but I don't know where they went."

Truman squeezed his eyes shut and pounded his fist into the pool table. He couldn't give in to the desperation wrapping itself around his chest. "Keep searching. I'll check back." He slammed the phone down on the green fabric, then grabbed a pool stick and snapped it in half.

The next call came from Fayande. "My patrol spotted them and gave chase. But they switched vehicles, and we haven't had any sightings since then."

"Fine." Truman felt no anger or disappointment, only a calm resoluteness. "I have no more need of your services."

"But—" Fayande started to respond, but Truman hung up. Instead, he called Claber.

"News?" Claber asked.

"No. We've lost their trail. But let's think here. Where would they go?"

"To America," Claber said instantly.

"Exactly." Truman smiled. "I want you to research the most likely route by road and through the woods. Chances are they won't use a legal point of entry because they've seen the police with me and they don't want to get caught."

"Makes sense. Then what?"

"Get everyone together. The Bennett brothers, Grey and Sanders. Send two groups into the woods. I want you and two others back in the States, prowling the border."

Someone in the background let out an exclamation.

"What?" Truman barked. "Someone have a comment?"

"Just Hastings,” Claber said, his voice less confident.

"What's his problem?"

"Apparently he has some concerns about the plan."

“Out with it,” Truman demanded.

"He thinks it's a waste of time."

So Hastings had decided there were no boundaries, that he could insult and rage to his heart’s content. Respect was still lacking.

"He doesn't have to go, then," Truman said, his voice icy calm. "Dispose of him."

"Sir?" Claber asked, and there was no mistaking his surprise.

"You had no problem doing it to McAllister’s men. I'm tired of having my decisions questioned," Truman growled. "What hurts one of us hurts us all. Hastings doesn't want to help, fine. We don't need a broken wheel. Get rid of him."

Claber's voice murmured as a muffled conversation occurred in the van. Then Claber said, "He changed his mind. He's more than willing to help."

That's more like it. "Perfect. I want him in a rental car, stateside. He reports directly to you. I want constant surveillance on the likely points of entry."

"Yes, sir," Claber said, his voice hesitant.

What was the problem now? "This isn't difficult," Truman snapped. "Four people in the woods. Four in the States. You just have to research the likely entry points."

"But there could be dozens—"

"Then choose the best ones!"

"Yes, sir."

Truman took a deep breath, letting his rational self take over. “Get on this. I want detailed maps by tonight. Send Hastings and the Bennett brothers into the States right away. But you come back with the four going into the woods. We'll need to prep them with supplies for the journey."