Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,65

want to go myself,” I admitted, the stress coursing through my circulation making it difficult to stay focused.

“Even if we used my plane, the capos are closer.” The tension had oozed from his expression and was now thick in Mason’s voice. It hung in the air around us like a thick, choking cloud as we both stared at the satellite image.

Trees.

That was all I fucking saw—trees. As I stared, I recognized that they were predominantly pines. Montana’s state tree was the ponderosa pine. Some measured up to two hundred and twenty feet high and eight feet in diameter. It made sense. Pine trees of any variety made the best cover because unlike deciduous trees, pines never lost their needles, not in a way to disclose this hideout.

We were back at our keyboards when at 9:34 p.m. my phone rang. Mason’s eyes met mine.

The screen read Christian.

“Are you there? Tell me what you have,” I demanded as the call connected.

“We are here. We’re not sure what this place is.” Before I could ask, he went on, “It’s a compound. I’m sending pictures, but it’s beginning to get dark. Not completely. You know, this fucking weird dusk.”

I put the phone on speaker. “Christian, describe what you found so far.”

“The coordinates you gave us were, well, inaccessible. And then we found this road. Fuck, it’s not a road. It’s one lane up a mountain.”

“Get to the damned point,” I pushed.

“Christian,” Mason began, his tone calmer. “Is anyone there?”

“I can’t be sure, Mr. Pierce. It appears abandoned. I’d say recently abandoned. There are fresh tire tracks. While I can’t confirm with just visual evidence, I’d say the tire tracks were made by a truck.”

“Anything else.”

“Yeah, about half a mile away to the east is a clearing, the perfect place to land a helicopter.”

I was no longer seated, but standing and pacing by the computers in Mason’s office while he was hitting keys, bringing the satellite image closer.

“Look over here.” Mason moved the cursor to what appeared to be a clearing in the trees.

“Are you sure no one is there?” I asked.

“We called you before doing a sweep. The buildings look a bit like power stations. You know, all made of concrete blocks. They aren’t big, at least not on the ground level.”

“Protect yourselves,” Mason said. “Are your vests in place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait,” I said, going to the keyboard and bringing up the tracker program. “Christian, turn your GPS on, the one on your phone.”

Mason’s eyes met mine as we watched the two signals.

“Mrs. Murray’s and Mrs. Sparrow’s tracker signals are one hundred and twelve feet south-southeast.”

“Sir, the buildings are the other way.”

Mason stood and spoke quietly. “I’m not losing capos to the Order. The Order doesn’t leave breadcrumbs it doesn’t expect to have followed.”

My heart ached with the thought of Lorna in one of the buildings Christian described.

Had they left her alone?

What was the plan?

Mason spoke, “I want you and Romero to get back from the buildings. Make sure that your vehicle is at least one hundred yards away.”

“Sir?”

“You’re not going to open the doors—not yet. Instead, I want you to shoot six inches above each door handle. Can you do that?”

“From one hundred yards?” Christian asked.

“I can, sir,” a second voice said.

“Romero, listen carefully,” Mason said. “I fucking hope I’m wrong, but if not, you need to listen very carefully. I’ve set explosives like what I’m imagining could be waiting for you.”

Booby traps.

“Sir, what if Mrs. Murray...?”

Romero didn’t need to finish the sentence. Mason and I both knew what would happen.

“There’s a chance,” Mason continued, “that only one building is rigged. I can’t explain the logic right now; I just know it’s a possibility. Get farther away and take cover if you can. Leave the phone on. The satellite is delayed. We’ll be able to hear before we see.”

Mason and I waited as they followed his instruction, moving their vehicle and taking cover.

“Sir, we’re set.”

My pulse raced to the point of nausea as I imagined Lorna inside one of those buildings. In the seconds that followed, I said prayers to every Supreme Being, even asking my father I lost too young and my mother and grandmother to reach down from heaven and protect the woman I loved.

“Do it,” Mason said.

Rapid gunfire came through the speaker.

And nothing.

“Sir, nothing happened with the first building.”

“You’re not done yet,” Mason said.

Rapid gunfire again.

A deafening explosion.

My breath caught in my chest. “Romero, Christian, are you all right?”

Reid

The sound of the blast reverberated through the office.

“Christian. Romero?” Mason screamed into