At the motel, I sat on the concrete walkway in front of my room. Waiting. I had not rehearsed what I was going to say, but knew in general the flow I wanted to follow. I rehearsed that in my head. Jeff’s vehicle finally appeared and parked next to mine. He got out, and I gestured for him to come into my room for privacy.
“OK, Nathan. I’m here on my break. I can’t stay long because I have to get back on patrol. So please tell me what you have to say quickly. I have a job to get back to.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t going back to his patrol duties as soon as he saw all that I had to share. So I ignored his abruptness. “OK. Jeff, I already told you about the fence.”
“Yes, and we’ll go see that on Monday. You hiked out there, but I can borrow an ATV. The trip will be a lot faster.”
“Good. I’m glad you still want to do that.”
“You said this was urgent, so you must have something new to offer.”
“Yes. I found a dog tag in the National Forest and had it checked out through a friend of mine.” I held up the dog tag so Jeff could see it clearly. “The soldier that belongs to this tag is supposed to be in Afghanistan, but he’s here. Right here in Willow Run. He’s AWOL. There’s a federal warrant for his arrest.”
Jeff took the dog tag from my hand and examined it for several seconds, mouthing the name imprinted on it. He looked back at me. “Since you were a cop, I suppose it’s not surprising you might have some contacts to help you.”
“Yeah, I’ve been calling in a lot of favors to dig up information.”
Jeff nodded in understanding. He probably also had such contacts who would help him if the need arose. He asked, “Where did you get the tag?”
“Do you really want to know?” I asked in a tone suggesting that he did not want to know.
He pondered my question and then replied, “Yes, I do want to know.”
“Let’s just say I found it around the neck of an unconscious man who was armed and wearing a camouflage uniform. He was next to the chain-link fence in the National Forest. He didn’t stop me from borrowing the tag, so I had it checked out.”
Jeff peered at me intently for several seconds before saying, “I guess you’re right. I really didn’t want to know.” He fell silent. Perhaps he was considering whether to arrest me for assaulting a member of the military. But then he continued. “Anyway, what’s so urgent about it? It’s just one guy, this Jeremy Mason.”
“He’s not the only AWOL guy. His entire platoon is AWOL. They’re all supposed to be in Afghanistan. I saw other guys in uniform in Spring Valley. I saw them through the fence and I saw them coming in and out of there in military vehicles.” That was a stretch, but this seemed necessary to keep the discussion rolling. “Odds are they’re all right here, in Spring Valley. Here’s the federal arrest warrant.” I showed him the pile of fax pages. “The list of AWOL guys is on this page.” I placed that list on top of the stack of pages and handed it all to Jeff.
Jeff peered intently at the names, crinkling his brow and rubbing his chin.
“Do you recognize any of the names, Jeff?”
He refocused on the list, his eyes moving from top to bottom of that list, but he shook his head. “No, can’t say that I do.” He rolled the sheets up into a tube shape and held them in one hand like a baton. “I’ll need to double check this, of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed.
He seemed to be thinking of other angles on this, and his next words confirmed it. “Could there just be some secret operation going on in there?”
“I don’t think so. If it were a secret military operation, why would there be a federal warrant for their arrests? They wouldn’t be listed as AWOL. The military would know where they are and what they’re doing. And it makes no sense to have a secret base in a tourist area. No, this is something else.”
“What then?” Jeff challenged me.
“First, there’s something else you should see.” While I had given Jeff the stack of pages, I had held one back. “When I found the body on Monarch Trail, near the body I also found a piece of paper. The Sheriff and Deputy Powell had no interest in it because they didn’t believe there was a body. So I sent it off for fingerprint analysis. I had thought all along the body was of a Hispanic man. But he wasn’t. He’s an Afghan.” I referred to the page to say the name. “An Afghan man named Salah bin Tariq Al-Fulani. He was captured in Afghanistan, but now he’s here.” I handed Jeff the page I had held back.
There was not a lot on the page, just the fingerprint, name, age, a few details about his capture and detention, and a picture of his face. The picture did not transmit well, but it might be possible to match it up with the image on my cell phone. I realized then that was something I had not done. I held back on that omission. Yet in spite of the paucity of material on the page, Jeff studied it a long time.
I hoped this was going well. So far it was hard to read Jeff’s reaction. But I felt he was connecting the dots.
“OK, so you’re saying we have an Afghan terrorist in Montana? Do we have a bunch of disgruntled AWOL soldiers and a terrorist planning an attack on US soil?”
I had not considered that scenario, so it threw me off stride for a moment. On hearing it, that was not a surprising supposition. But I had to lure him and myself off that train of thought and back to what I knew in my gut was going on here and what the whole body of evidence indicated.
“No, Jeff. I don’t think it has anything to do with terrorist activity.”
“What then?” he challenged.
“Opium.”
“What?”
“Growing opium poppies,” I asserted.
“Isn’t that a bit far fetched?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. I have one other piece of evidence to show you.” I retrieved the print outs from the library. I had also pulled from my bag of plant parts only those that I suspected were leaves and stem from an opium plant. Except for them being brown and wilted, they matched well with the pictures. These items I handed to Jeff.
“I found these plant pieces with the paper having the fingerprints. I checked them against pictures on the Internet.” I stabbed my right index finger at the pictures. “I talked to a botanist at the university in Missoula.” My intent was that Jeff would interpret this as confirmation from a professional that the pieces were from an opium poppy. That interpretation was, of course, a stretch of what actually occurred, but I wanted to ensure that Jeff was fully bought into what I was saying. It was urgent that he mount a response to this because at least one life, that of Ranger Pine’s wife, was at stake. So I wasn’t concerned by a bit of embellishment of the evidence that I had. Action seemed more important that complete accuracy at this point.
“Jeff, it all fits. All these pieces tell the story. AWOL soldiers move into the burned out Spring Valley. They put up a huge fence around it to keep everyone out. They bring over a bunch of Afghan prisoners to plant and harvest opium poppies.” Jeff looked intently at me, and I added one more item. “They even intimidated Ranger Pine to cooperate with them by holding his wife hostage.”
“What? Where did you get that?”
“I talked with Ranger Pine this morning. He told me.”
He looked annoyed at me. “Nathan, I thought you said you’d keep this quiet to avoid setting off a panic. Now you’ve brought in someone else.”
“It’s OK. Pine was already in it. He’s a victim here. He has no reason to tell anyone else.”
“Then why would he tell you anything?”
“That doesn’t matter.” I didn’t want to embarrass the man any further by relating his breakdown. “What does matter is that he told me, this morning, in his office. It’s tearing him apart. He’s keeping it together, but I don’t know how long he can hold out. We have to get into that valley and get his wife back. Hell, there could be other hostages in there.”
Jeff was not responding. He rubbed his chin,
considering all that I had told him.
“Jeff, there are other details we can talk about.” I could tell him about the letters ME on the paper, which I thought was for LIME, an important chemical in processing opium. I could tell him about my surveillance of the vehicles going in and out of the National Forest after hours. And about Ranger Pine opening the gate for the truck to pass. And the disappearances of Cortina Perez and Joseph Custer.
Instead I said, “But I don’t think that’s how we should be spending our time. There’s enough here already to get a search warrant, go into Spring Valley, save any hostages, and shut them down. Let’s just do it.” My voice was rising in volume. It was part intentional, but also just came naturally as I pressed even harder to make my points. I was done with the agenda for this conversation that I had outlined in my head. The main points had been made. Now I was just rolling with the momentum, trying to impress upon Jeff the urgency of acting now.
Jeff was still not responding with the enthusiasm I had hoped for, so I felt a need to press harder, to get Jeff thinking like I was. “Look, they’re hiding in there growing their fortune in illegal drugs. They probably won’t be in there much longer. Winter’s coming. When they’re finished, they’ll be rich and probably go their separate ways. They’ll disappear forever. When they leave, anyone who might be a witness will probably be killed. We have to get in there now.”
Jeff stared at me unblinking for several seconds. I returned the stare. Then he nodded his head, as if finally accepting it all. “OK,” he said. “You’ve made your case.”
“Good, then let’s do it. Where do we start?”
“Not so fast. You have a lot of good points here. Since they weren’t collected properly, some of the pieces might be considered tainted as evidence in a trial and maybe even for the purpose of getting a search warrant. But there’s still probably enough here to get the ball rolling. There’s a question of jurisdiction since this involves National Forest land. We can’t just go charging in there without bringing in the feds.”
“Understood,” I said. “So let’s call the DEA and whoever else needs to be involved. But let’s not wait. Let’s do it now.” I was eager to get this rolling. The continued thought of at least one hostage being held in the valley was weighing more heavily on me the longer we delayed.
“Nathan, be a little patient. This is not going to happen today. If there is a platoon of soldiers in there, they are probably heavily armed. Some surveillance will be needed to devise a plan. We don’t want a shootout that could get a lot of innocent people killed.”
I nodded that I understood.
“I don’t suppose you have any speculation on how the AWOL soldiers got from Afghanistan to here undetected? Or how they got the Afghan workers? Or where they got all the opium poppy seeds? Or how they have gone undetected in the valley for almost a year?”
“Yeah, so there’s a few holes in the puzzle. It gives you something to work on.”
He seemed to be pondering the task ahead, maybe not so much as a chore, but perhaps actually anticipating the investigation, like a mystery to be unfolded. “You said Ranger Pine is being coerced. Do you have reason to believe anyone else is involved?”
I hesitated before answering. “For various reasons, I suspect that Enid Powell may be part of it,” I stated with conviction.
“Enid? You must be joking.” But I could see that he wasn’t really believing his own doubt. Then he asked a question, in a tone that seemed to concede I could be right. “Why do you suspect him?”
There were lots of reasons I could mention. But I stated just one. “Two of the names on that list of AWOL soldiers are old buddies of Enid.” I handed Jeff the print out of the bounty hunter news story on which I had circled the names Ross Browne and Joey Hammons. “I suggest cross-checking the entire list of AWOL soldiers against Enid Powell to see if there are any other points of intersection in the past. Maybe in school or somewhere else.”
I then decided to add something else. “I’ve heard that Enid was angry about missing his big chance in football. Missed all that fame and fortune. Maybe his greed made him do it. Greed is a great motivator.”
Jeff seemed to think about these for a while, and then offered, “OK. As much as I hate to admit it, Enid is worth looking into.” Hesitantly, he also asked, “Anyone else?” He probably was worried about who else among his acquaintances might have gone bad. I could understand the sentiment. No one wants to hear this about his friends and neighbors.
“None that I know of. That’s it, Jeff. That’s what I think. What do you think?”
“I think it’s time for me to recheck this AWOL thing. My department can do that very quickly. If it checks out, I’ll tell the feds. I have to get them involved. This needs the kind of manpower they can muster. If I can make it a joint effort, then credit also goes to the county, Willow Run, and of course you.”
I was glad to hear that my name might stay associated with this. While I felt guilty about feeling that way since innocent lives might hang in the balance, I had to surrender to the feeling that this kind of publicity would open doors for me. “Thanks, Jeff. So now what?”
He smiled before responding. “Well, for one, I don’t think there’s any need for you to show me the fence. Don’t need to waste time on that detail, not with all this other material.” Then he looked deep in thought for a few seconds before continuing. “We need to keep this contained for now. Have you told any of this to anyone else?”
“No, you’re the first to hear it all put together.” Not even Ed knew all of it. I hadn’t even told him specifically where all this was happening.
“Good. We don’t want them, whoever is in the valley, to be alerted before we can take action. Right now I think we should contact Sheriff Tyler.”
“Why?”
“If the Feds are going to be swarming all over the area because of a phone call I make, he needs to hear it from me first. It’s a simple courtesy. Won’t take long. You just have to tell your story to him just like you did to me. Are you up for that?”
“Is that wise?” I asked skeptically. “The Sheriff hasn’t exactly been my biggest ally. And he talks to everyone, including Enid. The word might leak out.”
“I’ve known the Sheriff a long time. He’s not stupid. He won’t talk about it to anyone, not even to Enid. I’ll make sure of that.”
I was still a bit skeptical about the wisdom of this move, but Jeff and the Sheriff surely had a long history together in this small town. They certainly knew each other long before I ever showed up here. It was a small town. Go with the gut of the local guy.
“OK,” I said, accepting yet another delay in momentum.
As if sensing my disappointment, he added, “Don’t worry. As soon as we finish talking with the Sheriff, we call in the cavalry. OK?”
“OK,” I replied with more enthusiasm.
Seeing there was no phone in the room, Jeff pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll step outside for better reception.”
I stayed in the room, pacing in anticipation. It was always like this for me when there was downtime before a bust. I would be nervous until the action started. But once it did, then the nervousness vanished, and I could focus on the task at hand. Unfortunately, even though I had brought this to light, I realized there probably would be no place for me in the action. I was a civilian. I would be out. There had to be a way for me to be involved. Jeff seemed my best ally and hope for that.
I remembered then that I’d promised to call Ranger Pine immediately after talking with Jeff. So I flipped open my phone. It went right to message, which seemed odd since Pine was the one who wanted me to call. But then maybe he was like me, a guy who often left his phone off for long periods of time. I left a simple message that the discussion with Jeff had occurred, and I’d try again later.
After I closed my phone, I overheard Jeff on his cell phone through the open d
oor of my room.
“Sheriff, this is Jeff Wells.”
After a pause, “Allison is doing fine. Thanks for asking. Sheriff, I was just shown some information that I think you should see. I suspect this is a federal matter, but I want to make you aware of it since it is happening in your back yard.”
Another pause. “You want to know who is the source of the information?” Jeff said the statement as a question while looking at me for approval to reveal my name.
I hesitated for a moment. But I wanted the credit. Credit was going to help me get noticed, help me in my comeback. So I nodded.
“It was Nathan Parker,” Jeff responded into the phone. “What he found has to do with some serious illegal activities in the National Forest. I’d rather not say anything more over the phone. Can we meet now, just the three of us?”
There was then a long gap as Jeff listened. He occasionally interjected a brief response, but I could not hear the specifics of the conversation. I still did not like the delay of waiting to talk to the Sheriff, to inform him about the chaos that was about to rain down on his domain. But if Jeff could arrange this meeting, then the Sheriff was finally going to listen to my story. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. He might finally have to do something other than just sit on his ass and be the good old boy. It would soon be in his face, and he would have to deal with it, all of it.
Finally Jeff spoke again. “At your cabin. OK. Thanks.” He hung up the phone.
“Why at his cabin?” I asked.
“He’s in the middle of a plumbing repair at home. He has a water leak that he’s almost done with. His cabin is kind of secluded, but it’s an OK place to meet. Besides, we can go up there right away.” He paused for a long moment, hanging his head down as if thinking. Then he looked up at me and spoke with difficulty, as if he were confessing to me.
“Nathan, I’ve been a bit rough on you. It was only out of concern for my sister.”
“I realize that. I’d be protective too.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I was too protective.”
I didn’t reply since there seemed to be more he wanted to say. He paused for another moment, and then continued. “Anyway, you’ve done some good investigative work here. I must admit that I underestimated you. Must have been tough doing it alone.”
“Well, not entirely alone. I had help from friends.”
He nodded in approval. I sensed that my relationship with Jeff was taking a big turn for the good. He had been belligerent toward me before. But ever since Allison had stepped in, he was more accepting. And now my findings convinced him I had worth to the world. Maybe we wouldn’t ever be best friends, but a bridge between us was forming. It meant I was worthy of being in the company of his sister.
This was turning into a fulfilling day for me. It was to be capped off tonight by having dinner with Allison. A home-cooked meal, my first in many months. Maybe the schedule for the rest of this day would change, be out of our hands. So we might have to postpone that dinner. Regardless, it all gave me the feeling I was back from the brink of ruin where society had tossed me.
“Thanks, Jeff,” I said in response to his nod.
He stuck out his hand, and we shook firmly, completing the last link of the connection between us.