Blind Justice Read online

  Bolan walked out of the building, collar up against the downpour and returned to where he had concealed his SUV. Once inside, door closed against the weather, he checked out the three cell phones he had acquired. He ran through the call lists on each one, checking them against each other until he isolated a single number they all had in common.

  Bolan stared out through the windshield as he called the number on one of the phones. It rang out for a long time before someone picked up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Fitch, Dunn and Brenner—they’ve been talking to me. A lot. All about Kendal. Spilling their guts about how you people want to shut Ray Logan up. I was surprised how much they were willing to give away just to save themselves.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Let’s say I have a vested interest in you people. All the way up to Senator Kendal’s greasy neck. Word you can pass along to him is his day is coming. Soon. You’re all on my wish list. And if you want to discuss matters with Fitch and Dunn and Brenner, you’ll find them waiting for you.”

  Bolan gave details of the location where he had left the trio of cops, then hung up. He fired up the SUV, turned it around and drove away from the derelict site. He had completed what he needed to do here. Whatever happened to the three cops was out of his hands. The severity of any punishment would depend on who came looking for them. As he hadn’t spoken to anyone from Seattle PD, and had only informed Kendal’s people, the options were thin on the ground.

  It was time to move on to the next phase of his operation.

  Chapter 9

  “Being undercover didn’t mean I’ve lost contact with everyone,” Logan said. “I made a few discreet calls. One of my sources just told me about Marty Keegan. He was found dead in his apartment this morning by his cleaning woman. He’d been tethered to his bed and tortured. Butchered was how it was described to me. At the end, his throat had been cut through to the bone. Cooper, he was my link to Rachel and Tommy. He knew where they were hiding because he chose the place. We agreed I shouldn’t know where until it was time for Rachel to come in. Now Marty’s dead and I have no idea where my wife and son are.”

  Bolan had to strain to catch all Logan’s words over the phone. His voice was still weak.

  “We’ll figure this out, Ray.”

  “Don’t you understand, Cooper, it’s my damn fault. I sent them away and I can’t do a thing to help them. Kendal has all the cards…”

  Logan’s voice faded and all Bolan could hear was his labored breathing. His energy levels were way down and the pressure of not knowing where his wife and son were was taking its toll.

  “I had a talk with your cop buddies—Fitch, Dunn and Brenner. They didn’t send their best wishes. I think it’s safe to say they won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  “They aren’t going to just sit around, Cooper.”

  “When I left, they were kind of tied up.”

  “Couldn’t happen to a nicer bunch of guys.”

  “Ray, I’m going to call someone who might be able to pin down where Rachel is. You take it easy and we’ll talk soon.”

  Bolan broke the connection, immediately hitting the speed dial for Stony Man Farm. He needed to speak to his main source of help—the cyber chief, Kurtzman. When Kurtzman came on, the urgency in Bolan’s tone warned him there was no time for the usual banter.

  “A Seattle cop,” Bolan said. “Marty Keegan. Murdered today. Run a deep background check on him, Bear. I think he was killed for information on the wife and son of another cop, the one I’m helping out. Keegan had relocated Logan’s wife and kid to a safe place outside the city. He was the only one who knew the hideout location. I need to find them. I’ll explain later. Go into everything about Keegan. And I need it fast.”

  “Sounds urgent, Striker.”

  “Lives may depend on it.”

  Bolan heard Kurtzman giving instructions to his cyber team. He knew they would be dropping everything to move into action.

  Akira Tokaido.

  Huntington “Hunt” Wethers.

  Carmen Delahunt.

  The most accomplished computer team ever assembled existed at the Stony Man Farm, equipped with the best electronic equipment money could buy. They were led by Kurtzman, wheelchair-bound maybe, but not held back by this physical disability. The big bear of a man had yet to come across a code he couldn’t crack or a firewall he couldn’t douse. If the late Marty Keegan had secrets, Kurtzman and his team would find them.

  Kurtzman’s call came back after an hour.

  “We ran an in-depth, extensive profile on the man. Family history, his personal data. And I think we may have found what you’re looking for. No guarantees, Striker, but I have a feeling we hit pay dirt.”

  “I guessed you would.”

  “Keegan’s family is native to the area. He’s Seattle-born and -bred. Been a cop all his adult life. We tracked him through every document available, including bank statements, and tied together the fact that he pays annual property insurance on a cabin way up in the Cascades. It was willed to him by his deceased grandfather. Pretty remote, beside a small lake, no utilities, so we checked and found he paid by check for fuel deliveries through a local supplier. I’m guessing for a diesel generator to provide power. Your cop has a secluded cabin. Off the track, that no one seems to know about.”

  “Worth checking out,” Bolan said. “Can you give me a GPS location?”

  “I’ll download it. Striker, if this is what you wanted and Keegan was killed most likely for the same thing…”

  “Just what I’m thinking,” Bolan said. “What’s your time estimate?”

  “Three hours. You hit the road now you should make it by midday.”

  “Let’s hope the opposition isn’t so sharp on the uptake.”

  “Coordinates downloading now.”

  Bolan checked the downloaded information. “Got it. Thanks, Bear.”

  “Good hunting, Striker.”

  Bolan was already rolling. He had tapped in the coordinates and the soothing voice on the satnav was already instructing him which route would get him out of the city and on the road north.

  Chapter 10

  “I love America,” Maxim Koretski said.

  “You love American dollars,” Senator Tyrone Kendal corrected.

  “Yes, that, too. But I like the ambition here. The striving for a better life. The truth that greed is good.”

  “Jesus, Max, that’s just a line from a goddamn movie.”

  “Perhaps. But it is a wonderful line. I like the sentiment.”

  “Let’s cut the crap, Max. You fucked up, tovarich. Sending your people to Ray Logan’s house was a clumsy move.”

  “I sent them to search for the evidence that cop has gathered. It had to be done. I am involved in this as much as you are.”

  “No one disputes that, Max, but why didn’t you consult me first? I could have told you my people had already checked out the place. They found nothing, as we suspected. Logan’s no fool. He wouldn’t leave his evidence lying around in his own home.”

  “I was trying to help. And I need to protect myself, as well.”

  “Of course you do. But, Max, it went wrong and both your men ended up dead. Two dead Russians. I’m damn sure Logan has heard about that. People could start asking awkward questions. Look, we’re getting close here. Too close to success to screw things up. We need to suppress Logan’s information, but we can’t risk too many confrontations where people might start asking questions. So before you do anything talk it over with me. We should work as a team.”

  Koretski shrugged. As powerful as he was, the Russian often displayed a naive manner. He considered himself untouchable. His Russian nature cloaked him in a reckless attitude. He was direct almost t
o the point of arrogance. If he didn’t need the man, Kendal might have had Stone cut his throat and be done with it. But until that moment arrived, the American tolerated his bullish partner.

  Kendal sensed another question on its way. The Russian leaned forward, his eyes fixing on the senator.

  “So who killed my men?” he asked. “Earlier you said it had nothing to do with the police.”

  “I had it checked out. There was no police involvement, nor anything from the FBI, or Homeland Security. We followed this all down the line. Logically speaking, there was no reason anyone should have been on the spot when your team went into Logan’s house.”

  “So who are we talking about? This third party, who is he? Where does he come from?”

  “I have a theory, Max. The only other individual on the scene no one seems to have considered. Or mentioned.”

  “Yes?”

  “The man in the SUV who showed up and pulled Logan off the street while he was evading Fitch’s two officers. The one who fired on Dunn and Brenner. We have to assume he’s thrown in with Logan—for whatever reason.”

  “Why would he do that? It makes no sense. Unless he knows Logan.”

  “The way Fitch heard it from Dunn and Brenner, this man showed up out of the blue. He could not have known Logan would run from that alley at that precise moment. There was no prearranged rendezvous.”

  “We need to look into this. If Logan has some kind of accomplice it could cause us more problems.”

  “I agree. I’ll put someone on it. More important, we still need to locate Logan and his wife.”

  “So, have your people come any closer to finding them?”

  Kendal smiled, enjoying the moment.

  “I have a team on their way right now to detain Rachel and Tommy Logan,” he said. “My specialist got the information from Logan’s police partner. It appears he had assisted in helping Logan’s wife disappear and only he knew where she is.”

  “I congratulate you, Tyrone. Your man must be extremely persuasive.”

  “He is. He has a unique way of asking questions that never fails.”

  “And Logan’s partner?”

  “Ex-partner,” Kendal said. “My man saw to that.”

  Koretski nodded. “A good, clean result. No loose ends left behind. I like that, too.” Koretski asked, “What about Logan’s evidence?”

  “When we get our hands on the wife I’m sure things will sort themselves out. Either Logan has it, or his wife hid it somewhere out of reach. Once we have them all together someone will be made to talk.”

  “Your specialist?”

  “He will get us what we want.”

  “I would like to meet this man,” Koretski said. “He sounds exceptional.”

  “He is not a social animal,” Kendal said. “He prefers his own company. But if the occasion arises I will introduce you.”

  Koretski pushed to his feet. “As much as I enjoy your company, Tyrone, I think it is time for me to leave. There’s much to do.”

  “The helicopter is waiting for you.” Kendal stood and shook the Russian’s hand. “I will keep you informed. Stay in touch. In a few days we will be ready to go. By then I’m confident the Logan affair will be over.”

  “I hope so,” Koretski said. “It has gone on for long enough.”

  Chapter 11

  Bolan braked and brought the SUV to a stop. He cut the motor and sat studying the small huddle of timber buildings ahead. On his drive up from the city he had checked in with Kurtzman again to gain intel on the area. Stony Man Farm had come up with the name and location of the general store and gas station that served the local area. There were a few other cabins dotted around the store. The cabin belonging to the late Marty Keegan was higher up the trail, near an isolated lake, close on five miles from where Bolan currently sat. He noticed the rough, partly overgrown trail winding its way toward the higher elevation.

  The first thing Bolan spotted was the late-model, gleaming SUV parked up close to the general store. Next to it was a less glamorous Ford truck, its paintwork faded and showing the marks of being driven constantly through the heavy foliage that lined the approach road and the trails out. That vehicle fitted the scene. The brand-new SUV did not.

  Bolan picked up on the silence. There was smoke coming from the chimney of the store but no sign of any movement. He stepped out of his SUV, checked the Beretta holstered beneath his jacket and made his way toward the store. He made his approach so that he passed the post window before he reached the door. The interior appeared deserted. Then he caught movement inside as someone moved to one side of the door.

  Bolan reached the door, pushed the handle and let the door swing wide. He stepped inside.

  He looked beyond the stacked goods, the chiller unit and the shelves. The counter faced him and behind it stood a middle-aged woman dressed in a checkered shirt. The smile on her face was as rigid as a painted doll’s as she stared at Bolan. To his right he sensed a motionless figure and a shadow on the wood floor. The outline of the shadow showed an arm and a hand holding a gun.

  The shadow moved as the gunman stepped away from the inside wall, the weapon in his hand moving to cover Bolan.

  Bolan turned, his left hand sweeping round, fingers clamping over the barrel of the auto pistol. He yanked the surprised gunman forward, off balance, and as the startled man slid into view Bolan struck out with his bunched right fist. It caught the guy in the jaw, bone crunching under the force of the blow. Bolan yanked the pistol from the man’s hand, then used it to hit him across the other side of his face. A bloody gash opened in his cheek as he was slammed back against the wall. Before the thug could recover, Bolan used the butt of the auto pistol on the back of his skull. The guy went down without a sound.

  “You hurt?” Bolan asked the woman.

  She shook her head. “But my husband…they beat him…”

  “You go tend to him,” Bolan said.

  A quick search of the store and Bolan found some plastic ties. He secured the unconscious gunman’s ankles and wrists, then crossed the store to assist the woman. She was on her knees beside the bloodied figure of her husband. He had been beaten around the face and head. Bolan checked his pulse. It was steady and the wounds were not deep enough to be life-threatening. Bolan lifted him into one of the wooden chairs set near the counter while the woman went to get the first-aid box.

  “How many others were there?” Bolan asked.

  “Three. They made Arthur give them directions to Marty Keegan’s place. That one stayed behind to make sure we didn’t contact anyone.” She stared across at Bolan. “You come to help that young woman and her boy? She’s all alone up there.”

  “That’s the general idea.”

  “I hope you get there in time.”

  “How are those three getting up there?”

  The woman said, “They went in their 4x4 less than an hour ago. Arthur didn’t tell them they won’t get all the way like that. They’ll get themselves lost, too, if they’re not careful. Damned city boys by the look of them. Not used to walking in the woods. Now that trail peters out well before the cabin. More than likely they’ll have to abandon it and go on foot.”

  “Is there a faster route?”

  “Yes. Go behind the store, head due north until you hit the ridge. Can’t miss it. Then cut toward the west. Keep the peaks ahead of you. A mile and you’ll be on high ground. The lake where Marty’s cabin sits will be in view. That way you’re cutting off more than half the distance.”

  “That’ll be handy.”

  “One thing. Those three put on some kind of headsets just before they left. They were checking them. Does that mean anything?”

  It did. Comsets.

  “Lets them talk to each other if they get separated.
”

  “You think they might? Get separated I mean.”

  Bolan smiled. “If I have anything to do with it.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  “You going to be okay now?”

  She nodded. Touched Bolan’s arm. “You get up to that woman and her boy. We’ll be fine now. I’ll see to Arthur then fetch his Winchester off the pegs. That son of a bitch isn’t going to be any bother.” She stared at Bolan for a moment. “You some kind of lawman?”

  “You could say that, ma’am.”

  “Nobody’s called me ‘ma’am’ in years,” she said, smiling. “Like having John Wayne back. Now you get out of here quick.” She put out a hand to touch his arm. “Should I call the police?”

  “Be grateful if you didn’t. Right now they could be a problem if you do. Do you trust me, ma’am?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just keep that guy tied up. If he tries to persuade you to set him free play deaf.”

  “After what they did to Arthur he’s lucky I haven’t already turned that 44-40 on him. And by the way, my name is Sarah.”

  “Matt Cooper. Just keep your eyes and ears open, Sarah.”

  “You think there might be more coming?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sarah recognized the concern in his eyes. “You get moving, son. Worry about that young woman and her boy. This time I’m more than ready if any of those town bullies show up. We got the Winchester and a couple of handguns. Even got a pump-action 12-gauge in back. And my Arthur was a Marine way back. Gunnery sergeant, too. Now go. Bring that pair out safe.”

  “Anyone else around who might help you?”

  “Only me and Arthur here this time of year. All the other cabins are closed up.”