her disbelief. “Yup. It must’ve been wired separately from the main house, or we’d be in the dark right now. It’s probably got an underground power line, considering the climate and terrain. Underground is harder for hostiles to cut, because they’ve got to find it first.”
“Assuming they even know this bomb shelter is here.”
“This is definitely not a bomb shelter,” Thomas said. “It’s not even a panic room. More like a... secret hide out.”
Tash had to smile at his choice of a PG option over the mirrored-ceiling obviousness of sex-pod.
“Hurry up and take a shower,” Thomas told her, “then I’m next, then I get a look at Melvin.”
“And I get a better look at the back of your head,” she reminded him. “As long as we’re playing doctor.” She heard the words as they came out of her mouth, and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like—”
“Take a shower,” he said again.
She headed for the bathroom. “Good idea.”
Chapter Twelve
Most people were staying off the roads, no doubt hunkering down and searching for news via shortwave radios, if they had ’em.
The police cars were few and far between on the highway, and even though no one stopped them, they were looked at, hard.
And Rio looked back, just as pointedly. The homegrown tangos who were behind the current wave of death and destruction had a toehold just about everywhere in America, including—especially—law enforcement and the military.
So maybe the mutual glaring was a good sign.
After a solid day of driving, as the last of the sunset lit the western sky behind them, Rio was behind the wheel again when a text alert came in from Admiral Francisco.
Dave jerked awake and scrambled for his phone. His disappointment was palpable when he realized the text wasn’t coming in on his personal number. Still, contact from the admiral was vital, so he quickly dropped his phone and was instantly alert and ready to assist—even though he probably wanted to take advantage of their rare glowing bars of cell service to send H-less-Jon another Are you ok, please check in text.
Always optimistic, Rio had already connected their SAT phone to the SUV’s computer. He hit a button on the screen, and the vehicle’s voiced-texting clicked on.
“Have temporary SAT access,” the bland female computer voice recited Admiral Francisco’s text. “Calling now.”
Rio was already scanning their surroundings—they were in a relatively flat part of the country, so they had plenty enough sky for the SAT phone to work. And the vehicle had an external antenna, which meant—in theory—they’d be able to pull in a satellite call while on the move. Still, he swiftly pulled over, steering the SUV as far onto the shoulder as he could.
It would be bad form to drop a call from an admiral, and they were going to do their damnedest to make sure that didn’t happen.
The phone rang, and Rio was ready. He hit the button on the screen, connecting them. “Rosetti, sir,” he said, and quickly reported their longitude and latitude.
“Two things.” Both the signal and the admiral’s voice were remarkably clear as the man didn’t waste any time with pleasantries. “One: the Ustanzians left their compound early Sunday morning. They report receiving a tip about the coming wave of attacks, and the queen and her family were moved to a safe, undisclosed location.”
“Whoa, who gave them a tip—” Dave started but Rio silenced him with a sharp look. Shit yeah, that news was worth a full Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, with a dozen Holy Christs thrown in. But discovering who knew what in advance of these stateside attacks—although important to national security—was not part of their assignment.
“Did they leave any staff behind at the compound, sir?” Rio asked.
“Just one man—a caretaker,” Admiral Francisco reported, “which brings me to two: I just received satellite images—stills from SARs that aren’t stopped by cloud cover. They reveal the compound’s been destroyed by fire since the Ustanzians departed.”
Dave’s expressive face was a full Daaaamn, that’s not good, and Rio knew his was reflecting that same sentiment as the admiral continued.
“The ski lodge was still burning as of yesterday before the sun set, when these images were taken. Weather in that area ruled out lightning strike, plus the main gate appears to have been breached. It’s hanging open.”
Dave quietly opened the map of the area around the Ustanzian compound, and Rio knew he was already starting to plan their route in, since driving up to the gate was no longer a good option.