Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Ramon army crawled across the grass until he was close enough that he could see over the edge. “What on earth?”
This was a deep hole. The ground was almost frozen solid, and yet somehow, their guy had fallen through a false floor into…
He couldn’t see the bottom. Their teammate wasn’t making any noise, and Ramon couldn’t hear movement.
Bear shouldered up beside him and shone that flashlight of his down the hole.
Ramon sniffed a breath in through his nose. “Dang.”
Kenna was rubbing off on him. Helping him clean up his language. He’d put off accepting the rest of what she was offering, unsure a guy like him could ever accept redemption. Especially when it was a free gift. He didn’t know what to make of it.
What he did know was that falling fifteen feet onto sharp spikes ended a man’s life in a gruesome way.
Bear rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky full of stars. “We need to get him out of the hole.” He spoke loudly enough the others could hear it, including the crack in his tone.
Ramon didn’t see how they were going to get him out without some serious work.
He wanted to get across the hole and into the shed, just in case there really was something to find in there.
He pushed up from his supine position and looked around, half wondering if they were about to be picked off by gunfire.
He eased his way around the hole, looking at the edge versus the step in front of the shed. If he breached the door, would it explode in his face?
Only one way to find out.
Ramon saw the others had taken his place on the ground at the edge of the hole. All working as a team to retrieve their man from the place where he died, so they could return him home to his loved ones.
Ramon wanted to be sick.
Another life lost to the fight against Dominatus.
It was tempting to believe that one more lost life didn’t matter, especially if it was him, provided the end result was that Dominatus was destroyed.
Taken down. Obliterated. He could agree with these guys on the need for that, as well as understand why Kenna couldn’t be the one to take on that fight right now.
Ramon grabbed the door handle for the shed and used it to steady himself on the step. There were a few inches of dirt and grass between him and that murderous hole, but he didn’t want to risk stepping on it if he didn’t have to.
He slid a lock-pick kit from the thigh pocket of his cargoes and stuck one part in his mouth while he returned the case to his pocket, then he went to town on the lock. A few seconds later, he heard it click. “Flashlight.”
Bear looked up at him.
Ramon held out his hand. Bear tossed him the light, and he turned the handle. He ducked his head, eased the door open slowly, and went inside the shed.
Gardening tools were stacked in one corner. Nothing resembled a desk amidst the shelves of yard detritus. Terra-cotta pots, gardening gloves, stacks of soil. The whole place smelled like musty dirt.
Ramon shone the flashlight around, looking for a computer port in the wall, where the accountant might have plugged a laptop in for a second. Any kind of cabling. There wasn’t even a light bulb in the eaves of the small roof.
He crouched and assessed the floor, looking for seams that might indicate a secret area hidden beneath, but he didn’t find anything.
He went back to the door where Hollace stood on the far side of the opening, tying off a rope around his waist.
“Nothing in here,” Ramon said. “You’re going down there?”
Hollace nodded and tossed the rope to his friends, who formed a line to lower him down.
Bear backed up like he was standing guard. “Nothing?”
“Not even power.”
The team boss didn’t look happy, and Ramon didn’t blame him.
He stayed where he was and looked around at the terrain.
Rolling hills. Old abandoned farmhouses.
About a quarter mile away, a building had a light on upstairs.
Possibly a house, but he would need to get closer before he could tell for sure.
He continued scanning, looking for movement. Wishing he had Maizie to call for help. How were they supposed to find one guy in this place with nothing but an IP address?
“You guys don’t have access to satellites, do you? We could use some heat signatures to point us in the right direction.”
Bear watched Hollace descend into the hole. “I’ll call Hazel.” He palmed his phone and put it to his ear. “Yeah. We need a pickup for Smythe. He didn’t make it.” Bear sucked in a breath through his teeth, the hiss audible.
Bear had lost a teammate months ago. Maybe more than a year, actually. Ramon didn’t know exactly. After Allie’s death, he’d gone off the map. For what, no one knew. Now that he was back, he might be finally dealing with the grief, but more on top would only compound the issue.
From in the hole, Hollace said, “Okay, toss me the rope to secure him.”
Ramon grabbed the edge of the doorframe and jumped over to where Bear stood. “Let’s go check out that house while these guys are busy.” He motioned to the farmhouse next door with the light on.
“Got it.” He put the phone away. “Keep working. We’ll be back.”
The guy at the front of the rope said, “Got it, boss.”
Bear set off for the occupied house, walking in stiff movements like he wanted to kick a door in, drag someone out of bed, and punch them until they gave him some answers.
“We don’t know who is in there,” Ramon said. “They could be innocent.”
“I’m wondering if anyone in this town would turn out to be innocent.”
“Depends on if there actually is anyone in this town.”
Bear looked at him, still walking. He slowed a little. “Huh. Let’s find out, I guess.”
Ramon shrugged. They tromped across the damp grass to the front door, and Bear shoved him out of the way so he could kick it open. That was certainly one way to get out the frustration he was feeling.
Ramon pulled his pistol, holding aim in front of him because he didn’t want even a second to pass before pulling the trigger. This wasn’t a normal situation—not even close. One of the MSI guys was dead, and whoever was in here knew something.
They cleared the ground floor and headed up the thin staircase with the spindle wood railing. A cat meowed from the top of the stairs, but it only swished its tail as they passed.
The yellow light he’d seen from outside was from the upstairs hall. Each room revealed décor but no people, until the last and biggest.
Side by side, they lay on the bed, holding hands over the covers.
Frilly, floral bedspread. Flowers on the wallpaper.
A pedestal lamp with a tasseled lampshade.
Curtains pulled closed. They both wore pajamas, and their faces showed evidence of a long life.
Hopefully, one of love and family, not terror and pain.
“They look like they’re asleep.” Bear stepped into the room and took a side step, not getting any closer.
Ramon didn’t need to check for a pulse. “They’ve been dead awhile.”
The couple looked to be in their seventies or eighties and lay in their bed as if they’d died in their sleep at the same time.
“Maybe everyone in this town is dead.”
“I hope not.” Ramon headed for the door. “It’s hard to interrogate a dead person.”
Down the stairs. Back outside.
“Everything about this town is wrong.”
Bear emerged from the house, closing the door behind him. “We might have to go house to house and check everywhere. I don’t like going home empty-handed.” His phone buzzed. “Yeah, Hazel.”
Her voice came from the speaker, so Ramon could hear it as well. “Half a klick to the west, there’s a signal that just started broadcasting.” She sniffed. “Is Smythe really gone?”
“Tell me about the signal,” Bear instructed.
“Someone initiated a connection a few minutes ago that I picked up.”
“Sounds like we’ve got a live one,” Ramon said. “Tell us how to get there.”
They raced along a single asphalt lane between two short brick walls that were probably built over a hundred years ago. Moss-covered and damp, the whole place would look peaceful and beautiful in the daylight, but right now, he couldn’t help thinking it seemed almost deadly.
Hazel directed them to another structure, one that looked a lot like all the other country-style farmhouse buildings. This one had a post office box outside, or what amounted to it in this part of the world.
But when they neared, Ramon heard a high-pitched whir.
He tackled Bear just as gunfire erupted out of the mail slot, aimed right at them. Both of them slammed into the ground, and Ramon kept going so he wasn’t on top of the big guy. Bear lifted his shoulders off the ground, raised his gun, and fired.
The shooting stopped.
“Now we’re talking.” Bear scrambled up and raced at full speed for the door.
It gave under the sheer force of his body. The door fell in, and he landed on it. “Hands up!”
Ramon raced in just as Bear stood.
“I said, hands up!”
Ramon wasn’t totally limping, but it was close. Landing on Bear felt like landing on boulders—after falling twenty feet.
He backed up his associate, sweeping the room, while Bear kept aim on the man standing behind the counter.
Older guy, wearing a dark wool sweater that had been knitted. Gray scruff of a beard on his face. Light eyes. Not much hair. He said something in Norwegian—or so Ramon would guess.
“We don’t speak your language,” Ramon said. “English? Or Spanish?” He didn’t lower his gun much.
Bear said, “English,” before the guy could answer.
“How can I help you, gentlemen?” He spoke in heavily accented English. Not a computer in sight on the counter. Just an old-style cash register that probably dated back to World War II.
“We’re looking for someone.” Ramon kept half his attention on the room around him, just in case someone else was lurking. Or this place had a secret room, where the shed hadn’t. More booby traps were also an option. “Maybe you can help us.”
“I’m the only one here.” The old man kept his hands on the counter, in plain view, and didn’t move them.
Smart.
Ramon focused on him and got a vibe from the look in the man’s eyes, not to mention the way he was standing like there weren’t two men in his shop with guns pointed at him.
Bear said, “You can come with us, then. Answer some questions to our satisfaction, and we’ll let you go.”
“I knew you’d come eventually.”
“Did you.” Not a question. Bear didn’t seem in the mood for a long, drawn-out conversation.
“Let’s go.” Ramon went behind the counter and took the man’s elbow.
He checked around the guy and on the floor. Just in case he was standing on an explosive pressure plate, or some other crazy situation they hadn’t thought of.
“We’re clear.” Ramon motioned with his head. “Boss?”
Bear knew that meant him, but for a second, he looked distracted. “Copy that.”
Someone was talking over comms, and Ramon couldn’t hear it?
“Anything I should know?”
Bear shook his head. He backed up two steps and stood guard while Ramon walked the man to the door of the post office.
He couldn’t help wondering why the guy all of a sudden did something that could be traced back to him. Leading them right to him—with the help of Hazel. A man had died, but nothing else about this seemed like a trap. It almost seemed like Lief Holmberg wanted to be captured.
“Let’s go,” Bear said. “Time to get out of this crazy town.”