The Bonner Incident: Joshua's War (9 page)

“Sheriff,” Winters said laying the photos on the table. “Mr. Anderson is a terrorist and you’re being seen as someone who’s putting up resistance in his capture. Other law enforcement agencies have hindered our investigations, but you’re the first to act openly hostile. I urge you to listen to Agent Moore.”

“Yeah, I had one of those sheriffs call me two days ago,” Buck said grabbing his glass of water. “He said he wanted to fight back because he knew you were wrong, but knew he would end up broken and in prison if he did. Me, I don’t give a shit. I’ve talked this over with my wife and she agrees; we won’t be bullied into collaboration. Moore, I told you I stand the line, but your side has broken it to get to me. Push me anymore and we won’t be in a civil peace, understand? No longer will I tell people to leave your people alone, nor will I arrest or detain them for their actions.”

Watching Buck drink the glass of water, Moore nodded and stood up. “Yes I do, sheriff, but you must understand, they won’t be pushed and don’t deal well with threats.”

Seeing Winters stand up, Buck smiled. “Leaving so soon?”

“I’ll see that your message is delivered,” Moore said sliding his chair under the table.

“I haven’t said the meeting was over,” Buck snapped standing up. “You know who those two are. Tell me who they are and I’ll tell you the easiest way for you to catch Joshua.”

Dropping her hand to her pistol, “We are federal agents and yo-,” she stopped as Moore put a hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, I have seen them before sheriff. They came in with Homeland Agent Wagner. They are on his special response team,” Moore said in a low voice looking at Buck’s face, but didn’t see a reaction. “You already knew.”

“Yes, I just wanted to see where your loyalties lie Moore, and it’s not to the oath you swore to uphold,” Buck said. “But a deal is a deal. You want to catch Joshua, pull all of your men out of the field and keep them close to your command area. You won’t even have to leave.”

Letting her pistol go, Winters looked at Moore in shock, then turned to Buck. “Then how the hell are we going to catch him if we’re not searching for him?”

Buck looked at her with no remorse. “You can catch him when he comes down out of the mountains to kill you. I warned Moore the last time we spoke that Joshua is at war. The monster you created is coming after you. Your only chance to catch him is to hold up and wait.”

“Why are you even trying to help us?” Moore asked.

Giving a shrug as he scooted his chair under the table, “You won’t do it because it will make you look weak,” Buck said with a hint of a grin. “That little bear trap was just the first. He now knows how to take you apart, and take you apart he will.”

Giving a nod as he turned for the door, “Sheriff, I will let them know to leave your wife alone, but I’m sure you know, I don’t carry much weight,” Moore said as Winters followed behind him.

When they got into the SUV, Moore sped out of the parking lot onto the road. Winters looked over at him as he weaved through traffic. “You think his idea would work?”

“Yes,” Moore snorted. “Joshua isn’t evading capture, Winters. He’s fighting.”

***

Joshua was sitting in a draw, crushing mushrooms up. His first wife, Mary had loved collecting wild plants and had taught Joshua about them because he went with her to collect them. Having learned from her mother and grandmother, Mary taught him about mosses, mushrooms and plants. Which were edible, which could be used as medicine, but the first thing she’d taught him were the ones that were deadly. Not to kill, but so he wouldn’t pick them up when they went collecting.

It had taken him a little while, but he’d found the first of what he was looking for. The destroying angel mushroom, one of the deadliest in America, even cooking it didn’t break down the poison. When Mary had first taught him when they were still in high school, Joshua had been beyond nervous. Three weeks before Mary died, they had gone collecting and Joshua had still made her double-check what he’d gathered.

Another mushroom he was crushing down into a paste was the brain mushroom. It wasn’t as deadly as the destroying angel, but he could get more juice from them. The destroying angel showed symptoms after ingestion within five to twelve hours but by then, the damage was already done. Some Native American tribes had even used it on arrows when they went to war. And this is how Joshua intended to use it.

When the metal cup he was using was half full of a nasty-looking paste, Joshua dug out some two-inch-long wood screws he’d picked up in Spokane. Grabbing some latex gloves he’d also bought, he packed the paste in the thick grooves of the screws and set them aside.

Grabbing the Conibear traps and some thin wire, he wired three screws to each side of the box trap. “This gives a whole new meaning to a ‘dangerous trap’,” he mumbled setting the first trap to the side.

When he was done, he looked at the eighteen traps. “Now, it’s time to find a spot to place them,” he said pulling out his map and checking the locations of the teams that were out.

***

Turning up Highway 57, Moore pressed on the gas making the big engine roar. “How did the sheriff even find out about someone going after his wife?” Winters asked looking out the window. “I’m just wondering, it’s wrong and they should be punished, but this is Bonner County, Idaho. He’s just a small-town sheriff.”

“Minutemen,” Moore said with a sigh.

Glancing over, Winters scoffed. “They aren’t real. I dated an agent in Homeland a few years ago and he was on the Home Front Task Force, investigating all groups that posed threats to the government. I looked through them a few times to develop profiles of the groups that he asked me to do as a favor. There were the separatist groups, tea party, veterans, Christians and a whole slew of others. The only report on the Minutemen said ‘Unsubstantiated, Rumor only’.”

Slowing to the speed limit, Moore glanced out of the corner of his eye over at Winters. “They don’t want to be in the limelight,” he said. “But I’ve found traces a few times and even did some digging on my own. Three years ago, I found a confidential informant who used to be a part of them.”

“He didn’t pay his membership dues?”

Snorting, Moore shook his head. “No, he was kicked out for domestic violence. He beat his wife one night after he got drunk and was thrown out.”

“It’s not like you to take the word of a single informant.”

“He verified a lot of what I’d dug up.”

Looking back out the window, “Well, Homeland would love to talk to him if he has information on the Minutemen,” Winters said.

“He’s dead,” Moore said and Winters whipped her head around, locking her eyes on him in shock. “No, they didn’t kill him, he committed suicide in front of a video camera, so don’t let your imagination run wild.”

Still in shock, Winters looked out the front window. “You think it was suggested to him?”

“I’m sure it was,” Moore sighed. “It was two weeks after he’d talked to me.” Propping one arm on the steering wheel and resting his other on the door, Moore looked over at her. “A week later, I found a note on my kitchen table. ‘Information can be deadly’ was all that was written on it.”

“Holy shit,” Winters mumbled and then looked over at him. “You think they are a black government group?”

Shaking his head, because a ‘Black’ group was a department or agency of the government that didn’t exist on paper but damn sure existed in real life. “No, they are outside of the government,” he mumbled.

“Well, what did you find out?”

Taking his eyes off the road, Moore looked over at Winters and saw her intent stare. Turning back to the road, he slowed down and pulled over. “Get out if you want to know,” he said opening his door. Winters watched him climb out and shut the door before turning around to look at her.

When she got out and walked around the SUV, she stopped, seeing Moore walk down into the ditch and into the trees beside the road. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said trying not to grin and followed him. Stopping beside a massive tree, Moore turned around as she walked up. “Paranoid much?” she asked shaking her head.

“You know me better than that.”

“Moore, we worked ViCAP for six years and how many threats did we get? And you’re freaking out over a letter?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Remembering them working together in Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, Moore raised his eyebrows. “Minutemen don’t threaten Winters. They make statements. Now, do you want to know? If I tell you, you keep this to yourself because they work awful hard to remain secret.”

“If you’re that paranoid, why are you even telling me? I could be one,” she chuckled then noticed Moore’s face was serious. “I’m not,” she said quickly.

“Oh, I know you’re not. You don’t fit the profile.”

“Okay then, so tell me,” she said leaning back against the tree.

Taking a deep breath, Moore nodded. “The Minutemen follow the Constitution and Bill of Rights laid out by the Founding Fathers. That is their only law. It started small in the early seventies with gun legislation picking up. But right after Waco and Ruby Ridge, they grew and from what I’ve pieced together, they are nationwide now. Now don’t think there are a lot of them, by my best estimates, there are only a few thousand.”

“So, they are like the Oath Keepers?” Winters asked.

“Think Oath Keepers on steroids,” Moore said. “They don’t run around in the woods practicing shooting together to overthrow the government, in fact, they rarely come together at all. And the only ones that do come together are home groups. The informant I talked to was in a group in Georgia and the entire group never met all together at one time. Only the top two leaders of any one group know of other groups and they only know the leaders of those groups, not anyone else.”

Winters held up her hand, “Hold on, how can they be effective if they are splintered apart that much?”

“You weren’t listening; the leaders only know a few leaders from other nearby groups. Those groups’ leaders will know other groups that the first one doesn’t. Just like the first group will know of groups that they don’t. One tells the groups they know, and they repeat it to other groups. That way, the entire organization knows, yet one group doesn’t know more than one or two other groups of Minutemen.”

Seeing the shock spread on Winters' face, Moore grinned. “Now you’re getting the picture. But it gets even better. They have members in many departments of the government. My informant, he was in the CIA.”

“Just how in the hell did you get him to talk to you?”

Looking back toward the road, “I told him I could get the charges dropped and I did, but I also had to swear to never make a report of what he’d told me,” Moore said in a low voice. “Minutemen don’t tolerate criminals in their ranks and my informant was hoping to get back in with them. Somehow, they found out he’d talked to me. I don’t know how because you’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

Pushing off the tree, “How in the hell did you even find out the informant was associated with them?”

“That, I won’t tell you,” Moore said turning to look at her. “Let’s just say a few people pointed me in the right direction.” Winters gave a halfhearted nod and Moore continued. “My informant was high up in his group. Everyone in each group has a rank, but nobody is ranked higher than a colonel. A colonel is over one group. My informant was a major and he’d met with the leaders of two other groups. Now before you ask, he never told me who or even where they were located.”

Narrowing her eyes, “This seems like a load of shit,” Winters said.

“I’m just telling you what I learned. You take it, however, you want it.”

“So, they don’t want to overthrow the government?”

Moore looked at her with a tense face as he nodded. “Yes, they do.”

“Well, they are a threat to the standing government.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t, but the Minutemen have members in many organizations. My informant said members in his own group were in the FBI, NSA and the military. They know how we operate because they are inside.”

Feeling lightheaded, Winters sat down. “So they are actively serving the government they want to overthrow?”

“No, they are spying from the inside,” Moore corrected. “My informant kept repeating a quote. ‘9/11 was a success. The day we changed one law limiting freedom, the terrorists won’.”

“Humph,” Winters huffed. “They don’t think 9/11 was a plot like some of the other kooks?”

“I didn’t say that,” Moore said. “They believe in the Founding Fathers and see the taking of liberties as an act of war on those documents they consider sacred.”

“But they’re breaking laws set forth by the elected body.”

Holding up his index finger, “Ah, but laws that go against the Constitution,” Moore said. “Laws they consider unjust and immoral to the freedoms that America was founded on.”

Winters cocked her head to the side. “You sound like you believe that.”

“No, the elected body wrote those laws and I’m bound by my oath to enforce them,” Moore said.

“So, the Minutemen are real?”

“Yes,” Moore nodded. “And that’s who’s guarding Joshua’s house.”

Jumping up, “Well, we need to let the others know,” Winters said brushing her pants off.