The Escape (John Puller 3)

“Let me see what I can do from my end. I’ll be in touch. And I’ll be in touch soon.”

He rose, dropped cash on the table for their drinks, and walked out.

Puller said, “Nice catch on the Miró and the purses and shoes.”

“I didn’t tell you because we already knew she had a lot more money than she should have. It didn’t add anything new to the picture.”

“Right. But meeting with Carter like this was a big risk,” he said.

“But if we can’t make headway in our investigation then lighting a fire in a munitions dump might be the only way to go. In fact, if he hadn’t asked for the nightcap I would have. It’s the reason I had us hanging around in the lobby.”

“We’ll know one way or another, soon.”

“Yes we will.”

He said, “But remember, if the munitions dump does ignite, a lot of folks could get caught in the fireball, including us.”

CHAPTER

49

PULLER dropped Knox off at her hotel before heading back to Quantico. He stopped to get some gas near the base. Another vehicle swung into the fuel bay next to his. Someone got out to pump fuel.

Puller had put the nozzle in and was leaning against the hood of his car when the voice said, “Don’t react, Junior. Somebody might be watching.”

Maybe because he was hoping that something like this might eventually happen, Puller didn’t even flinch. He pulled his phone out and pretended to be checking messages, with not a care in the world. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pickup truck parked in the fuel bay next to his. A tall man, nearly as tall as he was, stood next to it, pumping gas. Under the light of the overheads Puller snatched a glimpse of the man he knew was his brother. Yet if the man hadn’t called him Junior he might not have recognized Bobby. There were only three people in the world who had ever called him that: his father, his mother, and his brother.

Bald, tatted arms, goatee, totally different nose and ears. There was a rifle rack in the back window and a “Don’t Tread On Me” sticker on the side of the cab.

“You’ve changed a little bit,” mumbled Puller.

“Just on the outside. Same nerd on the inside.”

Robert opened his wallet and drew out a credit card and swiped it through. He hit the necessary keys and then put the gas nozzle into his tank outlet.

“We have a lot to talk about,” said Puller.

“Yes we do, little brother.”

“I’ve found out a lot.”

“So have I.”

“You were set up.”

“Yep.”

“We’ve gotta make it right.”

“I plan to,” said Robert.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Can’t go to your place. Too obvious.”

Puller pretended to make a call and held the phone up to his ear and said, “I can lose any possible tail and then meet you.”

“I was going to suggest that.”

“You staying somewhere close?”

“I will be. Passed it a couple miles back. The Holiday Inn. You know it?”

“I know it.”

“I’ll park my ride in front of my room. Truck’s hard to miss. Kansas plates.”

“Right.”

“Please make damn sure you’re not followed, bro. That would not be in either of our best interests.”

“They’ll never be able to, Bobby.”

“I know, Junior. I know.”

John Puller finished fueling and drove away. A couple minutes later Robert Puller drove off in the opposite direction.

John Puller reached his apartment complex but kept driving until he got to Quantico. He passed the security checkpoint and headed over to the CID building. He walked down the hallway to an office he shared with other agents. It was empty and he spent about twenty minutes doodling on a piece of paper and also trying to get his nerves settled after just running into his fugitive brother at a gas station.

Despite being on the run, his brother had sounded cool and calm. And Puller had let him dictate the plan going forward, when that was not his natural inclination. Yet between the two boys Robert had always been the leader. Even if he hadn’t been older, Puller thought that would have been the case. Robert just had that way about him.

Puller waited another twenty minutes. During that time he changed out of his dress blues and into a set of fatigues he kept in the locker room. He left the building through a rear entrance and walked over to the motor pool. He checked out a four-door sedan and drove out another gate. He drove for twenty miles through rural roads, turning left and right, backtracking, stopping, going fast, then slow, and making it impossible for anyone to have followed him. He then parked a half mile away from the Holiday Inn and hoofed it the rest of the way through both woods and residential areas.

The truck with the Kansas plates was parked in front of room 103. Puller checked the bed and cab of the truck as he passed by it. He knocked on the motel room door and it opened a few seconds later after he had observed the curtain on the window adjacent to the door slide to the side just a bit as someone peered out.

Puller didn’t go in immediately. He put a hand on the butt of his holstered M11. “Bobby?” he said softly.

“Coast is clear, Junior.”

Puller walked in and closed and locked the door behind him.

There was only one light on in the small room, a table lamp next to the bed. His brother sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Through another door Puller could see the bathroom. A duffel bag was lying on the bed.

Puller sat on the edge of the bed and eyed his brother.

“Any problems getting here?” Robert asked.

“I took my time and if anyone was able to follow me then they deserve to win.”

Robert Puller rose and held out his arms. “It’s damn good to see you, John.”

Puller rose too and the two men exchanged a prolonged hug accompanied by back slaps. When they drew apart, Puller could see the moistness in his brother’s eyes and he could feel his own eyes begin to water. It was the most unusual feeling seeing his brother not a prisoner. It felt great. And it also felt fleeting and temporary. And that frightened Puller more than anything had in a long time.

Robert sat back down and Puller retook his seat on the bed. Neither man spoke for a long moment.

“How did you manage to find me?” asked Puller.

“I wasn’t following you, at least initially. I was following someone else and picked up your trail at the Army-Navy Club.”

“Who was the someone else?”

“Donovan Carter. I tracked him from Fort Belvoir. Surprised the hell out of me when you showed up.”