“Help me!” Courtney struggled to get her legs onto Chris’s shoulders, and in the next moment, she was pulled up through the trapdoor into the stall. He grabbed a chair, stood on it, and boosted himself out of the hole. The Rabbi helped a weepy Courtney to a sitting position against the wall, as he identified himself and Mirandized her. Behind him, ATF, FBI, and JTTF agents started videotaping her with their phones. Somebody handed Courtney a bottle of water, which she drank thirstily while Chris went to her side, kneeling.
“Courtney.” Chris knelt at her side. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be fine. We need you to help us now.”
“Chris, I don’t … understand.” Courtney’s eyes brimmed with tears as she took in the crowd. “Who are … all these people? What are you doing here?”
“I’m an ATF Special Agent and I was working undercover at the school. My real name is Curt Abbott. I have to stop your brothers and find Evan. You’re sure they’re going to blow up the federal courthouse in Philly?”
“Yes, but … Chris? Curt?” Courtney’s bloodshot eyes flared with disbelief. “Really, is this you? You’re not … a teacher?”
“It’s true but we don’t have time to talk about it. When did they leave? How long have you been down there?”
“I don’t know … what time is it now? What day is it?”
“It’s almost six in the morning, Monday morning. You’ve been there since when?”
“Since midnight last night.” Courtney began to cry, her chest heaving with hoarse sobs. “I didn’t know they were going to do it, I swear … I thought they were going to blow up the well pads, but not when anybody was around … that was what we all said … that Frazer was going to pay for what they did to my father”—Courtney’s words ran together in one anguished stream—“we were never going to kill anybody … that’s what I told Evan … he went along with it because of me, because of his dad … I asked him to do it, he did it … he helped steal the fertilizer to blow up the pads, but not a courthouse … not with people in it…”
“I understand,” Chris said, glancing at the Rabbi, who looked grim.
“They killed Doug … right in front of me, they shot him … they had a gun and I didn’t even know they had … a silencer on it.” Courtney sobbed, her skin mottled. Tears streamed down her face.
“Where is the bomb? Is it in the dually, the black dually?”
“Yes … Evan came to my house and Doug wasn’t supposed to be there … he was supposed to be away for the weekend … but he came home early.”
“Then what happened?”
“Jimmy shot him … and I got hysterical … but they said they would kill me and Evan if I screamed … I never saw them like that … they’ve gone crazy, they’ve lost their minds.”
“So then they put you in the dually?”
“Yes, we were in the dually … and they had a gun to Evan’s head, and in the back of the dually was the fertilizer … the bomb we were going to use to blow up the well pads, but I was crying … and they said ‘change of plans, that’s not what’s going on.’” Courtney dissolved into tears, breaking down completely, her head drooping. “Nobody was supposed to die … nobody was supposed to get killed, ever … I think they killed Abe, too … They said they didn’t, but I think they did.”
“Why did they kill Abe, Courtney?”
“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault … he found out about me and Evan, he saw me texting Evan and he was so … upset with me, so disappointed … and I was so stupid, I told my brothers that Abe knew … but I think they killed him.”
“How are they going to bomb the courthouse? They can’t all be in the same van.”
“Jimmy has a pickup … it’s black … and he’s going to follow the dually to Philly. Evan’s going to drive the dually to the courthouse … and they’re going to blow it up…”
“Does Evan know that?”
“No, they told him that they would kill his parents…” Courtney hiccupped sob after sob, “… if he didn’t go with them … they told him that they’d get him out … before they blew the dually up … but that’s not what’s going to happen … they have a remote control … they’re going to blow him up in the dually.”
“Courtney, hang in.” Chris touched her shoulder, and she looked up at him.
“Chris, don’t let them hurt Evan … He did it for me … I got him into this … I know it was wrong to have the affair but … he gave me so much attention … and I felt young and pretty again … Doug was never home … and now, he’s dead … all because of me…”
“Okay, hang in.” Chris rose, having all the information he needed and not a moment to spare. “Rabbi, I gotta go, authorization or no.”
“Agree. Your helo’s waiting.” The Rabbi left the stall with Chris, and they hurried down the aisle, clogged with law-enforcement personnel, including ATF. The Rabbi directed them on the fly. “Mark, get Ms. Wheeler some medical attention and take her into custody. Don’t move her from the farmhouse until you hear from me. Don’t let anybody talk to her unless they’re authorized by me or Alek. Jenny, call Alek and brief him. We’re supposed to run everything through JTTF.”
Chris fell into step beside him. “And somebody, please feed and water the horse.”
“I did already.” The Rabbi winked. “He’s my buddy now.”
“Nice.” Chris glanced at the sky as they left the barn, which was warming to a soft rosy blue, an unwelcome sight. Time was running out.
Meanwhile, the Shank compound had become a scene of controlled pandemonium, since word had spread the target had been confirmed. JTTF and FBI personnel met in groups, raced back and forth, clustered around laptops, and talked on phones or walkie-talkies. Police cruisers and black SUVs appeared out of nowhere, parking on the overgrown pasture, and three other helos sat waiting on the field with his.
Chris asked, on the run, “So what happens now? Do they cut off I-95? I-76? Inform the public, now that we have confirmation?”
“I don’t know. Not our call.” The Rabbi shook his head. “JTTF makes all the decisions. They liaise with Homeland Security, the FBI, the Philly police, the Pentagon, and the White House.” They hustled toward his helo, and Chris felt the gravity of the situation. “I’m thinking of those tourist attractions across from the courthouse, like the Liberty Bell Pavilion. School field trips go there from all over. Plus the Federal Reserve Bank, the Bourse, the African-American History Museum, WHYY—”
“They have to tell the public.” Chris spotted his pilot, Tony, running toward the helo.
“They don’t want to induce panic. It’s a major American city, 1.5 million people. If you go public, the residents, businesses, employees, and tourists freak out. It would be mayhem, dangerous for them and us.” The Rabbi shook his head. “And the Shanks might switch targets. The courthouse is on the other side of the Ben Franklin Bridge to Jersey. They could decide to blow up the bridge or hop on it to New York. They could stop at any exit, hide out, wait, steal cars—”
“They’d terrorize the entire Eastern Seaboard. Paralyze business.” Chris watched Tony climb into the helo, and in the next moment, the rotors whirred into life. “Looks like I’m good to go.”
“Okay.” The Rabbi hugged Chris impulsively. “Good luck, son.”
“Thanks,” Chris said, touched. He raced for the helo.