Willow Creek intersection. A familiar Jeep Renegade was parked along the curb maybe fifty feet past the lights. Rio must have updated Tram too.
There wasn’t enough space between the curb and street to park for long. Sure as hell not enough for them to have any kind of meaningful discussion. He honked as he cruised past the Renegade and watched in his rearview mirror as the Jeep pulled onto the street behind him. They took the first left, exiting Pomerado in favor of a quieter, narrower gravel side street. Tag parked along the side of the road and waited for Tram to pull in behind him.
After exiting their vehicles, they huddled next to Tag’s truck. Tram had changed out of his dress clothes into faded jeans, blue t-shirt, and his scruffy kick-about boots. Normal stand down attire for most operators. Pretty much the same thing Tag was wearing after he’d gone home to shuck his shorts and tank top.
“If the bastard was headed out of town, he’d have taken the I-15 exit.” Tram frowned, swiped a hand over his head, and turned in slow motion, scanning the dry, desolate landscape. “Feels like he’s going to ground somewhere out there instead.”
Tag massaged his aching temples as he nodded.
Tram’s focus locked on Tag. He frowned, concern glinting in his eyes. “You okay?”
Tag dropped his hands. “Nothing a couple ibuprofen tablets won’t fix.” Or getting a bead on Sarah. Or getting Sarah back. He fought to concentrate. “If the kidnapper grabbed them because of Mitch, then he’s out for money. Maybe he’s gone to ground somewhere close enough to pick up the ransom.”
Assuming the bastard hadn’t set up an electronic money transfer. It was damn easy these days to shift money from one account to another through the wonders of the internet. Hell, if the bastard had set up a digital transaction, he could be waiting anywhere. Proximity to Mitch would make no difference whatsoever.
Of course, all this was one big hypothesis that the girls hadn’t been taken because of Langley. If the threat against Langley was behind the kidnapping, fuck only knew what the bastard was up to.
Although…he frowned thoughtfully. From what he remembered Sarah saying, Langley’s parents were worth a fortune. Maybe money was at the root of both threats.
Tag assessed the scrubby vista surrounding him…while Pomerado was well developed close to San Diego, the longer you followed it out, the less populated it became. If someone wanted to go to ground, Pomerado from eight miles out would be a good choice. Lots of empty acreage out there, full of thick brush and trees for cover. Yet it was close enough to San Diego to make a quick trip into town accessible, if someone were after…say a money drop.
Which was exactly what Tag’s gut was telling him this bastard had done. He’d hauled the girls out here and was sitting on them, waiting for a money transfer or ransom drop.
He swore beneath his breath. The wild, raw terrain farther out was perfect for something else too.
Discarding bodies.
The pressure in his chest expanded, pressing outward until he felt like he was suffocating. The muscles of his chest and arms knotted beneath the urgency to do something.
They needed to come up with some strategy ASAP. If the kidnapper was holed up out there with Sarah and Langley, it would take forever to find him. If he was Mitch’s partner, they wouldn’t be able to cover all the acreage and check all the houses before the bastard realized that Mitch had no intension of coughing up the ransom. They needed to find that damn car before the bastard decided to cut his losses, dump the bodies, and move on.
“We could canvass the houses along Pomerado,” Tram said after a moment, his voice pessimistic.
They both knew he wasn’t talking about the houses right off the road. The bastard who’d kidnapped the women wasn’t going to hunker down in plain sight. He’d drag them deep into the scrub brush and count on the landscape to provide cover.
“There isn’t time.” Tag’s voice tightened. “Even if we pulled everyone from ST7, there’s too much territory to cover, which means we can’t walk in, we’d have to drive. The bastard would hear the vehicles. We’d lose the surprise factor.”
The blitz attack was a special operator’s most potent weapon. Strike when the target least expected it, take them down while they were off balance and unorganized. This tactic was the core principle of the vampire shift, striking from within the