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his militia buddies?”
    “Not at all. What I’m saying is, you won’t find Hunter Cain here. He’ll be on the move. Hidden from sight by now. But not here.”
    “Mr Reznick …”
    “Listen, Cortez, I’m sure you’re very good at your job putting a solid investigative case together. But you need to get down to a different level if you’re dealing with these guys.”
    Cortez looked at Meyerstein before staring across at Reznick. “Are you saying we break the law?”
    “I say the speed you guys work on investigations is irrelevant to finding Hunter Cain. He’s been sprung from a high-security penitentiary. And most of us in this room think something’s afoot. A terrorist act, maybe – who knows? And lives will be lost.”
    “Reznick, we need to do things in a legal, cogent manner. We need to cover all bases.”
    “And, meanwhile, he’s out there getting further away.”
    Meyerstein cleared her throat. “What are you suggesting, Jon?”
    “I’m suggesting we need to work this investigation from a different angle. Find out where his acquaintances hang out, and go in for a little chat.”
    Cortez grinned and shook his head. “Just like that.”
    Reznick took a few moments to compose himself. He wanted to go across and smash Cortez in the jaw. “Would you feel uncomfortable doing that?”
    Meyerstein lifted her hand to silence the exchange. “Oh, that’s enough. Special Agent Cortez, it’s a fair point Jon raises.”
    “Is it, ma’am?”
    Meyerstein slammed her hand hard down on the table. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
    Cortez flushed crimson. “Ma’am?”
    “Don’t ever try and play the smartass with me. If you’re asked a question, don’t be so goddamn defensive and precious. Now, let’s try again and get an answer. Where do the acquaintances of Hunter Cain hang out? Who’s the top one? And I’m looking for one with connections to the Kavallerie Brigade, and any militia activity.”
    Cortez nodded. He switched on a laptop. They watched a collection of photos appear on the screen. Bikers knocking back drinks, playing pool, and even one having sex with a girl on the pool table. “There’s a clubhouse, owned by the Outlaws biker gang, just outside Pensacola. Cain knows quite a few of the guys in there. Bought and sold guns with them. And drugs. Felony violations go on all the time. Was shut down. Burned down at one time. But rebuilt within days and opened up with a new owner on the license.”
    Reznick stared long and hard at the pictures. “Nice crowd.”
    Cortez said, “If we’re going to go in there we need to prepare, and have extensive back-up. It’ll take days to get things in place. We can’t just go in hard.”
    “Why not?” Reznick asked.
    “Why not? Because I know from experience that any criminal activity has to be monitored, and then arrests made. Unless we know Cain is on the premises, we’re on thin ice if we want prosecutions.”
    Reznick said, “Who said anything about prosecutions?”
    Cortez shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t follow.”
    Reznick said, “Do you have reasonable belief that there’s drug dealing going on there?”
    “Yeah, I believe that’s the case. But that’s a world away from going in there and making arrests, and getting some speed- or methamphetamine-heads.”
    “Who said anything about making arrests?”
    “I’m sorry, Mr Reznick, I really don’t follow.”
    Reznick looked around the table and fixed his gaze on Meyerstein. “You know as well as I do, time is against us. We also don’t know shit where Cain’s gone. But we sure as hell won’t find him by twiddling our thumbs. I say we go to that bar and ask around.”
    Cortez shook his head and bit his lower lip as if trying to stifle a laugh. “Mr Reznick, and what do you think they’ll say?”
    “It depends how you ask the question. We need to go in there, get control, and exert some pressure on them.”
    Cortez stared at him long and hard. “With all due