The Redbone shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “What’s the alternative? Sit tight and hope for the best?”
“That’s one option, as much as I hate to contemplate it. The other, obviously, is to hit hard and fast, damn the consequences. Scorched earth.”
“But you just said they were untouchable.”
“I said ‘practically.’ There’s one way you can pull off a hit like that. You need a fall guy. The crime has to be unambiguous, the corpses there for everyone to see, and the killer so obvious that all the carnage looks inevitable in retrospect. Then people move on without ever looking past the surface of things. You understand?”
“Sure. Like Kennedy, right?”
Forrest smiled and nodded, pleased at the irony of Ozan making this leap. The Redbone had learned a lot about Forrest’s business in the relatively short time he’d been involved, but he knew nothing about the innermost secrets of the Double Eagles.
“Who the hell could our fall guy be?” Ozan asked. “Brody and Regan would have made good patsies, but they’re dead.”
Forrest’s smile broadened. “They can still be blamed for everything that happened up till tonight. After all, Brody did order that first attack on Henry, at the Beacon office. And Brody and Regan burned the Beacon. The FBI’s bound to prove Brody was behind the kidnapping of Cage and Masters, and also that his guys killed that Natchez cop. How big a leap is it from there to assume Brody sent the sniper to finish off Sexton at the hospital but killed his girlfriend by mistake?”
Ozan grinned. “A damned short one. I like it. But that won’t help us with the other targets.”
“No. But this is the beautiful part. For those hits, we’ve got two patsies so perfect they could have been sent over by Central Casting.”
Ozan was clearly behind the curve. “Who you talking about, boss?”
“Snake and Sonny. The original Double Eagles. Last of the crazy racist crackers.”
The blood drained from the Redbone’s face. “Are you shitting me?”
“If we want to go scorched earth, it’s the only way. We have to give the FBI somebody they can close the cases on, fast. With no doubters at the table.”
Frightened wonder still shone from Ozan’s face. “You mean it, don’t you?”
“You bet your ass I do. Listen to me. Katrina has given us a chance to get our snouts up to the big trough. One or two deals with the guys I’m rubbing shoulders with now is worth more than everything I ever made out of Snake and Billy’s operation.”
Ozan still looked unconvinced. “But . . . how can you take those guys down? The second Snake and Sonny figure what you’re up to, they can cop a plea and send you to death row. And me along with you.”
Forrest shook his head. “Give me some credit, Alphonse. By the time Snake knows what I’m really doing, it’ll be too late.”
“You’d better lay this out for me, boss. ’Cause I can’t see it working.”
“You know Snake. A more hotheaded son of a bitch never drew breath. And once he hears what happened tonight, and how much danger we’re all in, he’ll be screaming for blood. The fact that he fucked up the hit on Henry will make him that much more ready to do it. You agree?”
“That’s Snake, all right.”
“Okay. Now, he’ll be expecting me to hold him back, like I usually do. Only this time I won’t, see? I’ll tell him the stakes are so high that killing those three is our only hope. And he’s the only man to do it.”
A tight smile had appeared on Ozan’s face. “Snake’ll eat that up, all right.”
“Here’s the twist, though. As soon as Snake has made the hits, we’ll leak something that puts the FBI on his trail—but not too close. Naturally, we’ll know where Snake’s hiding. Sonny’s fishing camp would be perfect. It’ll be Snake and Sonny, maybe one more Eagle. I’ll make a public appeal as Snake’s nephew, to get him to turn himself in. I’ll have told him to expect that, that I’m just playing the game. But then the FBI will corner them.”
Ozan was nodding.
“I’ll volunteer to go into the house and talk Snake out. Once inside, I’ll stall a little, tell him I’m figuring a way to break him from jail once he goes in. Then, when he’s distracted, I’ll take him out. Sonny, too.”
The Redbone blinked; the rest of him remained as motionless as a cigar store Indian. “You mean kill him?”
“Snake and Sonny both. And whoever else is with them.”
The Redbone swallowed hard. “Your own uncle?”
“It’s the only way, Alphonse. If I’m willing to kill my own uncle because he committed murder, I’ll be permanently safe. Washed in the blood, son. Better yet, that’s political gold in this state. You can’t buy that kind of press.”
“Ain’t you forgetting something?” Ozan asked, still looking wary. “What about Billy? You think he’s gonna stand by and keep his mouth shut after you kill his daddy?”
Forrest had thought a lot about his cousin during the past hour. “I can’t say for sure. But I do know this: Billy knows his father is a hothead. And the last thing he wants on this earth is to go back to prison. Billy did a jolt in Raiford in the eighties, and that was all the hell he could stand. He just might sit still for this, if I put it to him the right way. After all, Snake’s had a good run. It’s time for our generation to take the helm.”
Ozan swallowed the last of his bourbon, then leaned back in his chair. “It’s a ballsy plan, I’ll say that.”
“Can you see any other way to take those people out and stay out of prison?”
As if against his will, Ozan shook his head. “You know I’m up for damn near anything, boss. But when you start killing family . . . I don’t know. It’s like asking for trouble from the gods.”
Forrest barked a laugh. “The gods? Alphonse, the only god you need to be worrying about at this point is the god of war. And you know what he says.”
“What’s that?”