Being a member of the Five affected different operators in different ways. The intensity of the missions led some to crack up, others to drink or take drugs, and some, like Nate, to become thoroughly disillusioned with their commander.
Something had happened to Soledad to turn him. Nate didn’t know what it was, and Soledad, at least publicly, had never explained it. But he’d gone from being the tip of the covert spear for American interests to a man who wanted to burn the country down. And steal falcons from fellow falconers along the way.
Soledad’s current allies and associates were murky, but they were no doubt international. There were no clear lines between Soledad, antifa chapters across the nation, other anarchists, and offshoots of BLM. For all Nate knew, Geronimo Jones was a pal of Soledad’s.
Was he being led into a trap?
After a few minutes at the bar, Nate had confirmed that Geronimo was, in fact, a master falconer. He spoke knowledgeably of the avocation and he knew as much about hunting with gyrfalcons in particular as anyone Nate had ever met. But was his allegiance to falconry, BLM, or antifa? Or some combination of all three?
Nate told himself he had no choice but to trust the man until he had reason not to. So he followed.
“You know why I want Axel Soledad,” Nate said to Geronimo. “You read my post and responded. What beef do you have with him?”
“Yeah,” Geronimo said. “Poaching on a man’s territory, stealing his birds, and threatening his family is about as bad as you can get. I can see why you’re after him.”
“So answer my question,” Nate said.
Geronimo said, “You’ve got your reasons. I’ve got mine. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“As long as we find him,” Nate said.
“We’re on the same page here,” Geronimo said. “You would be invited to the cookout.”
Nate had no idea what that meant other than it sounded like he’d be included in whatever Geronimo was up to.
* * *
—
The buildings got taller as they got closer to the capitol. Nate assumed by their uninspired architecture they were government buildings.
Through an opening onto the street, a small knot of protesters moved under a streetlight. Nate and Geronimo kept themselves in shadow and watched the group pass. Nate saw they were all in black clothing and they wore motorcycle helmets with the shields down. Two of the group held their glowing phones out in front of them.
Nate whispered to Geronimo, “Why do they dress like that?”
“There are closed-circuit cameras everywhere, not to mention that everyone on the street has a phone camera and all the cops have body cams. If they mask up and dress alike, it’s impossible for the cops to identify individuals who do bad shit and get caught on video.”
“Are they packing?”
“Rarely, but sometimes. They’d rather kick ass with boots and clubs and they like to use their skateboards as weapons. It keeps them out of jail and it doesn’t give the media reasons not to love them.”
“You know a lot about antifa,” Nate said.
“I’ve only scratched the surface, nature boy.”
“What’s the street action all about?” Nate asked.
Gernomio shrugged. “What do you got?”
“Why don’t the cops just round them up?”
“The cops have learned it’s useless, even though they could do it in one night. There’s not that many of them, maybe fifty or so. But we’ve got a progressive DA that cuts them all loose without charges. These yahoos are back on the street hours after they’re arrested. They get arrested, get released, and do it all over again. Rinse and repeat. It makes it seem like there are more of them, but there aren’t.”
“There’s no law enforcement?”
“Hey—I’ve been pulled over thirteen times for Driving While Black. And you just have to look at me to know some of these cops are just begging for a reason to light me up.”
“But they let you go?” Nate asked.
“They do now. All they have to see is this,” he said, pointing to the BLM stencil on his jacket. “Get-out-of-jail-free patch, is what it is. It’s the word from on high.”
“I don’t understand,” Nate said.
“And I don’t have time to explain right now, my man.”
* * *
—
They approached the location Geronimo had scouted through a long narrow opening between two buildings. Nate didn’t like the situation they were in at all. It would be too easy to trap them in the pathway by blocking both ends. The only way out would be to scale the brick walls.