Enemy Way (39 page)

Jane laughed, the sound full of derision and contempt. “Go quickly, now. You only have until sunrise to trade for your friend.”

Ella hurried Thomas along until they reached Justine. Sergeant Hobson was there, too, having responded to Justine’s call for backup. Ella turned
the boy over to the sergeant.

Thomas was so frightened that he was shaking like a leaf, his speech unsteady. “They’re all crazy down there,” he said, his words rushing together. “You were right all along. You’d better give them the real doll, or your friend won’t have a chance.”

“I’ll handle it,” Ella said gently. “Leave with this officer now.”

“No, they’ll find me again!”

Sergeant Hobson
turned the boy around and looked him right in the eye. “Nobody is going to snatch you this time, Nephew,” he said, using the term to denote tribal ties, not actual kinship. “It’s easy to take someone by surprise when they’re not expecting trouble. But they’ve used up all their tricks. Now
we’re
armed and dangerous, and if anyone gets near us before we reach safety, they’re history.”

Ella knew
Hobson was tough, but so were the skinwalkers. Yet the boy responded to the sergeant’s confident words, calming down.

Once Thomas was safely away, Ella left Justine on watch and walked back to the Jeep with Neskahi.

“What do you need from me?” Neskahi asked.

“Hang tight. I’ll give you instructions in a minute.”

Ella called Blalock on the cellular and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she
learned that the real doll had arrived safely in the mail. “Will you meet one of my people at the Flare Hill turnoff with the doll? I’m facing a hostage situation here. That doll is the payoff, and I don’t have a lot of time.”

“You’ve got it. And I’ll be there to help, too. I’m walking over to my weapons closet right now.”

Ella nodded to Neskahi and handed him a note with detailed instructions.
“Take care of my shopping list, then meet Blalock and bring him and the doll here. Get going.”

“What’s going on?” Blalock asked.

She’d wanted to end the conversation, but Blalock refused to be put off. He wanted details, and Ella knew that if she refused to give them, he’d only continue to press for information, and he might dig in his heels and refuse to bring the doll.

“Wilson Joe is being
held hostage,” she admitted finally, giving him the details of the situation, but not her own plans for resolving it. That would have been too risky over the air.

Blalock snorted in disgust, and asked if there was anything else she needed. When Ella said no, he ended the call to get underway.

Ella hung up the cellular. Blalock would be a plus to have on her team. She’d need all the well-trained
manpower she could get to carry off what she had in mind. That … and a lot of luck.

Ella knew she’d need to summon her brother. A medicine man was the best defense against the evil ones, and Clifford had helped her before. But first, she dialed the ER at Shiprock Hospital next and asked for Jeremiah Crow. His cooperation was absolutely the key to the operation.

*   *   *

It was close to four
in the morning, and bitterly cold. Taking her cue from the bank robbers, Ella had staged a phoney accident near the turnoff to the neighborhood. The screech of tires, followed by shouts of pain and cries for help at the site, had all combined to make it very convincing. The road was close enough to be easily seen from the Benally house, and she knew the skinwalkers were watching their every move.

According to plan, the cops watching the house had left for the accident, making no attempt to hide their departure. Ella had left too, joining the general exodus, but as soon as possible, she sneaked back with her assault team, taking a roundabout route that hid them from view.

As Angel Hawk made a wide circle over the staged accident scene, now filled with emergency vehicles, she knew she’d
successfully diverted the skinwalker’s attention. Through her nightscope she could see figures at the front windows, watching from behind the curtains.

Clifford, unofficially armed with a .38 revolver and wearing a bulletproof vest, crouched beside Ella. “You could lose some of your people tonight,” he whispered, “despite the Enemy Way I sang, maybe we’ll lose our teacher friend as well.”

“I
know, but I have no other choice. You can back out, though, if you’d like,” she said.

“No, I’m in. You have your own abilities, but I’m the only real equalizing force you have against the metaphysical weapons the skinwalkers will throw at you. I can counter any of their illusions, or at the very least, warn your people when they’re being tricked. And there is that item I made for you. I want
to find it.”

“At least our enemies won’t get what they’re after,” Ella muttered. Big Ed was reluctantly taking care of the real skin-walker doll now, having locked it away in his office safe. He’d proved to be trustworthy, unlike his predecessor, and was standing by at the station, waiting for the arrival of officers from all over the Rez. If Ella needed reinforcements, he’s be leading them himself.

“It’s almost time,” Ella said, and gathered the officers around her. She’d pulled in Philip and Michael Cloud, Jimmy Frank, and Sergeant Hobson, in addition to Justine and Neskahi. Blalock had also joined them. They were all in full SWAT gear, with bulletproof vests, helmets, gas masks, sidearms, and shotguns.

Ella had opted not to use assault rifles because the officers were much more familiar
with their own weapons. There was also less chance of being struck by friendly fire with the guns they were using. Shotgun pellets, for one, were less likely to pass through walls.

The assault team checked and rechecked their gear, awaiting her go-ahead.

“Angel Hawk will pass over in another minute and drop the flash-bangs in the front yard. The minute Angel Hawk comes into view, we’ll move.
The chopper noise will mask our approach. Once the flash-bangs detonate, Justine will send tear gas through the back. The ones inside the house will expect us to attack from that direction, but we’ll circle around and go through the front instead. Surprise should give us a temporary advantage. But they won’t be fooled for long. We have to move fast and take them down hard.”

Ella glanced at the
determined faces crouched around her in the shallow ditch, less than a hundred feet from the Benally house. Not one of the officers beside her would hesitate for a second once the assault began. Wilson Joe was well-known and respected by all of them. They all knew his life depended upon the effectiveness of this attack.

“We work with partners, covering each other’s backs. Keep the masks on because
of the gas. I know they’re old, but they’ll have to do. If a mask failure puts you in danger, get out, then cover a door or window in the back yard. Justine will be out there, too, backing us up with a rifle and night-scope, so you won’t be on your own.”

“Are you sure you can’t delay this an hour until I can get some better masks here?” Blalock asked. He was armed with an HK submachine gun, a
weapon favored by anti-terrorist forces.

“We can’t afford to wait any longer, and I didn’t dare ask you for them over the phone, in case someone was listening. That’s why I had to mention the doll. We’re running out of time to help Wilson,” Ella answered. “I hope it’s not too late already.”

As everyone checked their gear one last time and put on their masks, Clifford approached and gave her
a small
jish,
a medicine bundle. “There’s sacred pollen in this. I know you don’t believe in it, not really, but our enemies do, and you may find it useful. It may also help break the hold the witches have on our friend.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled, then put on his own gas mask as he had been instructed.

Angel Hawk roared overhead and Ella scrambled out of the ditch and ran toward the side of the
house, the assault team at her heels.

A muzzle flash appeared at a half-open window at the same time a shotgun roared, and one of her team fell backwards, struck on his chest. Behind them came the blast from Justine’s rifle, and the window shattered. The officer’s partner stopped to cover the fallen man, but the rest continued running, splitting into two groups as they circled around toward the
front door.

The night suddenly turned to day, and two groundshaking explosions told Ella the flash-bangs had gone off. There was another blast that came from the back of the house. Ella hoped it was the first tear gas round smashing through a window.

Hobson, who’d volunteered for the job, rushed forward and hit the front door low with his shoulder. Ella’s eyes widened as the door broke in the
center and fell inward, separating into two pieces as Hobson tumbled into the house. Neskahi, serving as his partner, was right behind him, shotgun ready. Ella and Clifford followed, covered by Blalock.

As they entered, Ella saw one of the skinwalkers lying on the floor, stunned apparently by the door striking him as it crashed inward. Hobson had his pistol at the man’s throat. Neskahi gathered
up a rifle and threw it outside.

Suddenly another skinwalker holding a pistol rose up from behind a sofa, and with a curse, threw a handful of yellow powder toward Ella. Clifford responded immediately with flash of light from his hand, and the powder fizzled toward the ground where it burned with a pale blue flame. Blalock fired a three-shot burst from his submachine gun, and the skinwalker clutched
his chest, falling to the ground.

Neskahi and Hobson cuffed their prisoner hand and foot, then signaled that they were going to check out the kitchen. Clifford waved them off, and instead, threw a cushion from the sofa into the entryway. A rain of yellow powder from somewhere inside the kitchen struck the cushion, and it burst into flames before it hit the floor.

Ella drove through the doorway,
rolling as she entered the kitchen. She surprised a woman, who was hiding in the corner, coughing from the tear gas. Before the woman could swing the revolver she was holding into line, Ella fired two shots, striking her in the chest. Blalock and Clifford were in the room at almost the same time, but there were no other skinwalkers present.

A shotgun blast, followed by a flurry of gunfire, came
from the back bedrooms. “Go, you two. Help the others!” Ella shouted to Blalock and her brother. Blalock complied instantly, but Clifford stayed, pointing to a utility room.

“She’s in there. Want me with you?” Clifford whispered.

Ella shook her head as a bright light flashed from somewhere in the back of the house, and another series of gunshots rattled the walls. Some of them she knew were
from Blalock’s automatic weapon. “You’re needed in the back.”

Clifford uttered a word of blessing, and disappeared.

Ella grabbed a cup from the counter, then swung the utility-room door open, throwing the cup into the darkened space. She followed right behind it, crouched low, before the broken pieces stopped rattling.

Ella smelled the suffocating stench of kerosene almost immediately and realized
her gas mask had slipped. The odor overwhelmed everything, including any traces of tear gas that might have penetrated this far into the house. Before she had time to think, a burning lantern suddenly arced across the darkness, striking the doorway right behind her, and shattering with a splash of fire.

One entire wall of the little laundry room ignited, illuminating the room. Ella took off her
gas mask, and shoved it into her jacket pocket, hoping it would stay. She had to warn the others in her team.

“Fire!” Ella shouted the word as loud as she could, moving away from the heat.

Turning, Ella saw Jane Clah limping through the doorway that led into the garage, pulling a robot-like Wilson along with her. She closed the door before Ella had a clear shot.

Ella jumped across the room,
but it had already been jammed from the garage side. Without hesitation, Ella placed four rounds into the hinges and kicked the door open.

Ella slipped into the darkened garage quickly, escaping the growing wall of flames behind her and keeping her back to the wall. “Give it up,” she ordered. “You’re not taking him anywhere.”

“Shoot her,” Ella heard Jane Clah yell from one of the dark corners
of the garage.

Ella slipped farther along the wall. The far side of the garage was in shadow, despite the flames from the utility room. She’d thought of going for the light switch, but light would make her an easier target, too.

Straining to see, Ella worked her way along the wall toward the darker side of the room. Something brushed her cheek, and she instinctively swatted it hard, thinking
it was a spider. It was a pull chain to an overhead light. Suddenly the light came on.

Wilson Joe stood about twelve feet in front of her, shielding Jane Clah with his body. He was holding a lever-action thirty-thirty Winchester, and it was pointed at Ella.

“She wants to kill me. You can’t let that happen, my love,” Jane Clah purred to Wilson from behind her human shield, pointing her cane at
Ella. “I’m your bride. When you look at me, you know I’m your Lisa.”

Ella looked at Wilson. His eyes were so glazed that right now she was sure Jane would have been able to convince him that she was the cover model from a sports magazine’s swimsuit edition. Jane was playing with Wilson like a cat with a cockroach.

“That’s not Lisa, old friend,” Ella said. “Reach inside yourself and fight. You
know me, you know my voice. I’m Ella. Feel the power of my name. We’ve fought their kind together in the past. This witch has no power over our friendship. Shut her voice from your mind, and let your heart lead you to the truth.”

“Listen to her. She’s jealous, don’t you see? She’s trying to split us apart. You can’t let her destroy our love,” Jane whispered.

To Ella, the woman’s wheedling voice
had the same unpleasant resonance as fingernails on a chalkboard. As Ella stood her ground, she felt heat emanating from her badger fetish, extending in a line of fire from her neck to her waist. Suddenly she remembered Clifford’s gift. Reaching into the
jish,
she opened the bag and threw the contents toward Wilson and Jane. Sacred pollen scattered over all them.