Shadow Prey

allegedly damaged a bulldozer. He denied damaging the bulldozer, but he did tell police that the rancher was putting a service trail through a Dakota burial ground.
    Close’s file was thinner than Sunders’. Most of the charges against him were misdemeanors, for loitering or vagrancy, back when those were legal charges. There was a notation by a Rapid City officer that Close was believed to have been responsible for a series of burglaries in the homes of government officials, but he had never been caught.
    On a separate slip of paper was a report from an FBI intelligence unit that both Sunders and Close had been seen at the siege of Wounded Knee, but when the siege ended, they were not among the Indians in the town.
    “I’d say they’ve got a deep organization, going all the way back to the sixties, and maybe back to the forties,” Lily said, looking at the file over Lucas’ shoulder. A lock of her hair touched his ear, and tickled. He moved closer and let her scent settle over him. He had not yet told her about Jennifer. The thought of it made him uncomfortable.
    “The Star Tribune this morning called them our first experience with dedicated domestic terrorists,” Lucas said.
    “They picked that up from the Times, ” Lily said. “The Times had an editorial Friday, said the same thing.”
    Daniel nodded gloomily. “It’ll get worse when they do whatever it is they’re planning to do. Something big.”
    “You don’t think . . . like the airport?” Anderson asked.
    “What?” asked Sloan.
    “You know, like the Palestinians? I mean, if you were going to do something big, shooting up the airport or blowing up a plane would do it . . . .”
    “Oh, Christ,” Daniel said. He gnawed on his lower lip, then got up and took a turn around his desk. “If we go out there and suggest tighter controls and the word gets out, the airlines’ll take it right in the ass. And I’ll be right there with them, gettin’ it in the same place.”
    “If we don’t tell them, and something happens . . .”
    “How about just a light touch . . . just talk to the security,a hint to the FBI, maybe put some people out there undercover?” suggested Sloan.
    “Maybe,” said Daniel, sitting down again. He looked at Anderson. “Do you really think . . . ?”
    “Not really,” Anderson said.
    “I don’t think so either. All the people they’ve hit so far have been symbols of something. Shooting up an airport full of innocent people wouldn’t prove anything.”
    “How about the Bureau of Indian Affairs?” Lucas asked. “A lot of old-line Indians hate the BIA.”
    “Now that’s something,” Daniel said, his eyes narrowing. “An institution instead of an individual . . . It’d be a logical step, to go after the people they see as their oppressors. I better talk to the feebs. Maybe they could put a couple of people in the BIA office.”
    “Wait a minute,” Lucas said. He stood up and walked around his chair, thinking. Then he looked at Daniel and said, “Jesus—it could be Clay.”
    They all thought about it for a moment, and Daniel shook his head. “Everything they’ve done has been pretty well planned. Nobody knew that Clay was coming in until the last couple of days.”
    “No, no, think about it,” said Lucas, jabbing a finger at Daniel. “If you look at this whole . . . progression . . . in the right way, you could see it as a lure to pull Clay in. The terrorist angle, the publicity . . . . That’s exactly the kind of thing Clay’d bite on.”
    “That’s an awful big jump,” Daniel argued. “They couldn’t be sure he’d come. You could wind up killing a half-dozen people and getting all of your own people killed, and Clay might sit on his ass in Washington.”
    “And why Clay?” Sloan asked.
    “Because he’s a big target and he’s got a bad rep among Indians,” Lily said. “You remember that hassle out in Arizona with the two factions on that reservation? I can’t remember what the deal was . . . .”
    “Yeah, he sent in all those agents to kick ass . . .” Anderson said.
    “If I remember right, there was an article in Time thatsaid Clay has had a bunch of run-ins with Indians over the years. Doesn’t like them . . .” Lucas said.
    “The Crows can’t get at him,” said Sloan. “He’s got an unbelievable screen of bodyguards—you should have seen them this morning. If the Crows tried to shoot their way through them . . . I mean, these