Judgment at Alcatraz

side with her dark brown eyes, searching for signs of movement or anything out of the ordinary. She was an attractive woman with tanned skin, a high forehead, and long and thin face. Her chestnut hair was gathered up in a ponytail that fell just below her shoulders. Even so, natural waves appeared where the hair crossed over her scalp. Standing at five-foot-five, her muscles were toned from regular workouts, although her loose clothing concealed all evidence of her physical condition. Unlike Bic and Eddie, she moved with agile grace as she glided across the forest duff.
She paused beside the gray bark of a mature pine and peered down the steep slope to observe the pair trudging onward. Each man had an AR-style rifle, assembled by Bic, dangling from a shoulder. They kept their heads down, focused on the trail, oblivious to anything beyond their fifteen-foot field of view. The surefooted mules plodded behind them, stopping whenever one of the men slipped and fell. As fatigue set in, it was taking longer for them to rise back to their feet.
She moved down to the trail and raised her hand to signal a stop.
“Something wrong?” Bic said, between deep breaths.
“No,” Danya replied. “Take a break. Five minutes. I’ll hold the reins for the pack animals.”
Bic and Eddie ambled to a decaying log laying in the shade of several large conifers. They both drained water bottles and threw the empties to the side.
Eddie was a couple inches taller, at least ten years younger than his uncle, and not as heavy, but still overweight by twenty-five pounds. His skin was pasty, and his face dotted with pimples. But otherwise, his facial features carried a distinctive family resemblance. His hair, parted down the middle, covered the top half of his ears in a style that fell out of fashion by the early 80s.
Danya had been introduced to Bic through a mutual contact—an Internet associate who lurked on the fringes of lawful conduct. To his credit, Bic was smart enough to know he was treading into dangerous territory—an understatement, given the business transaction he planned to consummate.
His nephew was the only person under his employ, and Eddie had zero military training. Not encouraging, since Bic was a gunsmith and had never served in combat. Understanding the magnitude of the risk, Bic needed an expert to provide security. The introduction was made through a secure chatroom connection, followed by a face-to-face meeting, and the deal was struck.
“Okay, guys,” Danya said. “Time to get moving.”
They rose and joined her on the trail.
“You still carrying that radio?” she said to Bic.
He nodded and patted his pocket. “Got it right here. But I haven’t turned it on yet. Wanted to save the battery until we get to the meeting point.”
“Good. It’s okay to turn it on now, and keep it in your breast pocket. You’ll feel as much as hear the sound. I’m going to be ahead of you, and if I see anything I don’t like, I’ll key the mic twice. If I give you that signal, the two of you stop and find the nearest cover within thirty yards. Stay there. I’ll be back for you.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to talk over the radio?” Bic said.
“I’m not supposed to be here, right? It’s only supposed to be you and Eddie delivering the weapons to the buyer. Now, if someone sees you standing next to Eddie and talking on a radio, what do you think they’ll conclude?”
Bic frowned. “Guess I didn’t think about that.”
“That’s what you hired me for. Now, we need to get moving.”
“How much farther to the meeting point?” Eddie said.
She consulted her handheld GPS unit. It displayed a topographic map in sharp detail, with a red dot marking their destination. A dashed line connected the destination to their current location, and the distance was logged on the bottom of the screen—2.3 miles.
“Not far,” she replied. “Should be there within an hour. Maybe sooner.”
Bic glanced at his watch. “We’re way ahead of schedule.”
“Not really. We need to arrive well before the buyer is expected. I’ll need time to scout the area and set up a defensive perimeter.”
“Why?” Eddie said. “We’re selling, and they’re buying. It should be simple.”
“Should be, I agree. But what if they decide they like your merchandise and want to keep their money?”
“Oh, I get it. You think they might rip us off.”
She looked at Eddie, amazed he could be so naïve.
“The thought crossed my mind,” she said. “Which means it’s crossed the mind of the buyer as well. Better to be prepared. There’s no honor among thieves.”
Eddie and Bic started walking, followed by the team of mules, while she hiked back up the slope to gain some elevation over the trail.
Her plan was simple. Arrive at the meeting location early, and scout the area. She’d set up tripwires connected to several homemade antipersonnel mines stashed inside her daypack. Finally, she would secure a sniper hide where she had good visibility and field of fire. From there, she could ensure the deal unfolded as planned.
During their face-to-face meeting, Bic had explained that the buyer was a radical paramilitary group that operated under the name Lawful Americans for Democracy, or LAD. They fancied themselves true patriots, and were signing up new recruits at a rapid pace. When Danya had asked, Bic said he didn’t know how many members they had. Later, she did some research on the group. There were plenty of news accounts documenting their leaders advocating to overthrow the current two-party political system on the grounds that neither the Democrats nor the Republicans were truly working in the best interests of the United States and its citizens. But what she found most disturbing were the swastika armbands worn by the members.
A spokesman for LAD had tried to deflect suggestions that the group was a thinly disguised neo-Nazi organization by explaining that the Nazi party was universally misunderstood, and that it should be remembered for its nationalist platform that reinvigorated Germany’s economy