Owen led the
group north out of Lost Summit, a direction that was in total opposition from where Taible and his men had taken Paige. He’d had to backtrack three quarters of a mile out and then turn north. The blackhat hadn’t counted on an expert tracker following this close on his heels. Or had he? Ann was right by Owen’s side for she appeared to be just as talented in that area, but it wouldn’t matter if this was nothing but a trap.
The trees had started to lose their leaves, thus allowing more ash through the thinning branches. There was still a lot more visibility than when Mason and Brenna had been traveling by horseback. That was something to be grateful for.
What was slightly unnerving was the low hum that vibrated in the air. It didn’t appear to be coming from any specific location, but it sure as hell set his teeth on edge. There wasn’t any life in these woods the way there had once been and it was as if the air sensed the void.
“I’ve been thinking. Taible had to know that Paige is Truman’s ex-wife,” Mav said, falling back to discuss his thoughts with Mason. They were pretty much on par with the same opinion, but that wasn’t a surprise. “Why bring her otherwise?”
“Taible couldn’t attack the lodge because he didn’t have a team of trained operators at his disposal and he was outnumbered,” Mason summarized his thoughts, doing his best to not think about Brenna back at the camp.
He’d purposefully not mentioned to her that some of the other residents were picking up the slack while the seven of them hiked through the woods to an unknown destination with an unidentified number of tangos waiting for them. She would probably have something to say about that at a later time, but he wanted her inside the lodge where she was protected. Brenna had brought him a sense of peace and he wasn’t willing to jeopardize her life because of her stubborn pride. He wouldn’t apologize for that either.
“I’m fucked,” Mason muttered underneath his breath, knowing full well Brenna would tell him what he could do with his intentions.
“What was that?” Mav asked, still thinking they were on the subject of Taible. Mason had better get his head back in the game or this little rescue mission would be over before it ever truly began. “I agree with you on why he didn’t attack the lodge, but he could have easily picked all of us off at the checkpoint yesterday.”
“Without knowing exactly how many other reinforcements we have?” Mason asked skeptically, thinking that scenario would have been highly unlikely. “For all Taible knew, we had snipers in the trees zeroed in on him and his buddies. He was scouting. He was trying to see who we had, what our weapons grades were, and just how secure our position was. He’s now aware of just how prepared we are.”
“He wants us to bring the fight to him, on his terms within his parameters.” Mav stepped into Dean’s footprint, mimicking the steps of those in front of them like they’d been trained. Ten meters apart was the usual spread. Mason did the same, noticing their pace was slowing down a bit. “The question remains of why Taible is so close to the Canadian border.”
“Truman hasn’t given us the location he and his team were supposed to secure on their last mission.” Mason caught sight of Tank’s fist in the air, signaling for those behind him to stop. Seeing as that was Mason and Mav, the two of them did as instructed. “Taible might very well be turning the tables on us. What if the location has already been raided?”
“You think it’s nearby the lodge and this is Taible’s way of getting us out of the area?” Mason weighed the pros and cons of Mav’s thought process and recognized the significance of what he was saying. He took the time from this small break for Owen to scout ahead to survey the area around them while offering up something else. “There’s a hundred ways this could go down. Taible has to have realized by now that Fairfax’s body isn’t where he was told it was. He’s got numerous avenues to choose from. One, he walks away and leaves us alone. Two, eliminating Truman and his team was previously his main objective. Taible is gambling on Truman’s teammates to be along for this rescue. He can take them all out at once, although that still leaves Fairfax.”
“So take two off the list.” Mav turned around so he had a clear view of the area behind them. “Keep going.”
Mason fell into that familiar zone he took comfort in as he and Mav fell back into their old routine of hashing out different outcomes of their mission. The task at hand was to retrieve Paige Olivier and bring her back to safety. Regardless that Truman and Berke both had personal stakes in this, it was Paige’s plea for help that had them acting this fast, with little in the way of preparation.
“Three, Taible most likely isn’t aware we knew that Paige is being held against her will. Now that he’s seen a little of our set-up, he might be willing to let bygones be bygones. Truman all but said he and his team were staying with us. Taible could very well be on his way to the classified location in order to finish his mission.”
Owen had returned and signaled that Taible and his men were another quarter of a mile away, roughly placing their position halfway between Lost Summit and the Canadian border. Mav then unfastened the whip antenna on his single channel radio and made contact with Cody, the Canadian border patrol they’d been friends with for years. He’d agreed to keep an eye out on his end for anyone matching the descriptions he’d been given. His negative reply was expected, but it was always good to verify intelligence.
“Four, Taible knows Truman won’t allow his ex-wife to be taken to some secure location and that we’ll be coming after him, allowing him time to set a trap. After all, he all but paraded Paige in front of Truman’s face.”
“I would have shot him then and there,” Mav muttered, starting forward when the group spread back out in a staggered column of twos heading out into formation.
“Agreed.” Mason had already provided proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot when it came to Brenna. Now? After having accepted her into his life? There wasn’t a chance in hell he would have ever allowed Taible to take one step away from the lodge with Brenna in tow. Truman’s control was either something to admire, or told of his cold nature. “Continuing on four, Owen would have seen an ambush a mile away.”
“Which brings us to five,” Mav continued, the unease in his tone easily showing he believed their number five scenario might actually be the right one. “Taible knew the most skilled would be out here to pull off a rescue, leaving the lodge somewhat unsecure.”
“You said you’ve been training the younger ones,” Mason brought up as reassurance, honestly lacking in his attempt. He sure as hell didn’t like the last scenario. “You’ve had roughly a month, right?”
“Hell, that’s only a third of the time our recruits put into boot camp to learn how to stand fire watch.” Mav continued to follow the group ahead of them when it was obvious he wanted to stop. “And I sure as hell didn’t run them through the paces. I taught them accuracy in shooting, what to look for, what to listen for, and to call for backup if anything felt wrong.”
“Who are
they
?” Mason thought back to the group of young men back at the lodge. “Jason and Dylan Wicks? What about their father?”
“Pretty much all anybody who was willing to learn, but especially Jason, Dylan, Jeremy, and the rest of the men who could guard the immediate area. It was the rest of us who took the rougher terrain.” Mav turned back around, surveying the area behind them without missing a step. “You know who really turned out to be a good shot? And by good shot, I mean almost as good as Berke.”
Mason was intrigued, but his thoughts were currently on the lodge and how weak their absence had left their camp…their home. Had Brenna gone to the lodge and stayed there, assisting Mabel with breakfast? Or had she gone back to take over duties for Rob Wicks since he was covering one of the outposts? Mason refused to think she’d actually taken up a position outside where she’d be vulnerable.
“Who’s that good of a shot?” Mason asked, knowing Mav was waiting for him to guess.
“Missy Murray. She would have made one hell of a sniper.” Mav finally faced in the direction they were heading, just in time to see Owen stop once again. He was leaning down and conferring with Ann. Truman was surveying the area up ahead, while Tank and Dean moved out to the flanks, marking the outer limits of their formation. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think option five is more likely than the others.”
“It’s not like we can double back now,” Mason countered, the deep-seated ill sensation taking root in his gut. They would stay the course and do what they’d come to do before returning to take care of whomever Taible might have sent to test their security. “Departing from this mission without retrieving Paige would either result in her death or give Taible’s men a chance to relocate her to a place we’d never discover in this type of terrain.”
“We might not have a choice,” Tank said grimly, pulling Mason and Mav’s attention his way. Owen and Ann stood, both looking at each other with regret. This wasn’t going as planned, but wasn’t that the way any mission progressed? Adapt, improvise, and overcome. Those were the words that would be written on all of their tombstones. “What have you got for us, Owen?”
“Taible is good, there’s no denying that,” Owen said, drawing the M1A off of his shoulder and into his hands. “Two of his men continued on with Paige to the north, according to print of her boot, but he and the others have crossed the bridge and doubled back along the road toward town. It looks as if they not only want Fairfax eliminated, but they want to take the lodge for their own. Problem is that we’re on the wrong side of the river. We can’t beat them back to camp.”
B
renna raised the
binoculars up to her mask, wishing there was an easier way to use them. She couldn’t get a full visual of the area with the lenses up against the plastic of her visor, but the device was better than nothing. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing and the friction of the ash-encrusted fabric of her jacket and hood when she shifted position. It was cold out here, the quietness was unnerving, and the falling ash was like a blanket smothering everything. In fact, it was colder than when she and Mav had ridden into town. The constant cloud cover had turned the promised summer into an early fall and now it was beginning to look like winter wasn’t too far off.
“They haven’t used the radio at all?” Prue asked quietly so that her voice didn’t carry. They had joined Jason Wicks at the checkpoint, relieving Kirk and allowing him to head up to the natural springs. Gage Dorian and Milton Owain had the other outpost that covered the approach to the bunker complex. They were technically inside the bunker manning a machine gun nest cut into the rock face fifty-feet above the heavy steel door, in constant communication with the security office. Both men were in their mid-to-late fifties and contributed greatly to the various duties of the camp. “It’s been a good two hours.”
“We have no idea how far they had to track them,” Brenna murmured, not taking her gaze off of the not too distant horizon. There wasn’t much to see except numerous lines of trees on either side of the main road that no longer had their healthy chestnut brown bark. The horizon reminded her of a black and white movie that wasn’t quite tuned in right. The vivid colors that had painted this landscape had all but vanished, leaving nothing but a washed out backdrop. “Do you think—”
“Lima Sierra Actual, be advised of incoming tangos. Main line of approach is on the main road.” Mav’s voice interrupted Brenna’s question, unknowingly answering her. She quickly lowered the binoculars and made eye contact with Prue and Jason. Something had gone wrong and now the lodge was about to be attacked. “Stay in contact.”
“Perimeters are clear,” Henley advised, the worry in her tone coming across the channel loud and clear. Taible and his men could probably pick up her notification, but this exchange of information meant life or death. “I repeat, perimeters are clear. Securing the nest.”
The radio Prue had attached to her cammies fell silent. Brenna was finding it somewhat difficult to breathe with her mask on, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. Neither one of them should have said anything. It was almost as if they’d tempted fate and she wasn’t any happier than Mother Nature was at the moment.
“You think they’re doubling back?” Brenna asked, turning quickly to her right when a branch cracked from its host and fell a good forty feet to the ground. The weight of the ash had been causing this effect quite frequently, setting their nerves on edge. “I can’t imagine they would have left Paige to fend for herself.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but sometimes sacrifices need to be made for the greater good,” Jason counseled as he brought the rifle off of his shoulder and into his hands. “Right now, Henley is moving everyone from the lodge through the tunnel to the bunker. They have most likely secured the main door to the bunker with Jarrett Moore and Randy Bassett on post in the nest.”
“I understand that they might have to leave Paige behind, but there are times when we need to take risks.” Prue positioned her weapon as she shifted her stance. “Me? I risked my life to bring my sister here. I’m not good at following rules and regulations.”