Blind Justice

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“Nice backup guns,” he commented. “All unregistered? Of course they are. I’ll take the cell phones. Might be able to pull something interesting off the call registers. Unless you guys cleared everything?”

The looks on their faces told him they most likely hadn’t.

“I’m sure most of the cops in your precinct will be interested to find out what you fine officers have been up to. If there are any more on Kendal’s payroll I think we’ll be finding out soon enough.”

“Let us out of here,” Fitch yelled. His anger spilled over into almost incoherent rage as he began to scream and rant at Bolan. “You can’t do this. We’re cops, damn it. Cops.”

“I already corrected you on that,” Bolan said. “Dirty cops. The worst kind. If you were anything else you’d be dead by now. I’ve never fired on a cop, ever, clean or dirty. I won’t start now. But you’re not getting away from this. A call from a high up Fed to IA will start the ball rolling. After that…”

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.”