Chapter 24
Colton
Gray light crept through the cabin’s dusty window.
Colton lay still, Deanna’s warmth at his side, her breathing unhurried and even.
The sleeping bag smelled like wood smoke and her shampoo.
For a few seconds, the world outside didn’t exist. No fire, no kidnapping, no rifle shots through his fuselage. Only this.
His phone buzzed with a text from Ace: Found something. Get back to the Command Center ASAP.
“Time to go, Brooks,” he murmured with a light kiss to Deanna’s temple.
She stirred, stretching like a cat. “Wish we had longer.”
“Have to get going to the base. Plus, Ace has a lead.”
She rolled over and gave him an affectionate kiss.
“Stop it or you’ll initiate the launch sequence,” he breathed, sliding his hand around her waist.
“Wouldn’t want to do that, now would I?” With a mischievous grin, she touched him there, and he moaned. She extricated herself from the cozy sleeping bag they’d shared.
Since they hadn’t made a fire in the stove, the air had chilled.
Colton tried not to ogle her as she put on her bra and got dressed.
Years of smokejumping had sculpted her body in ways nothing else would have.
They dressed without a word, the playful intimacy giving way to thoughts of the day ahead.
When they reached the base camp, Colton brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“No matter how this goes, no matter what happens, we stay solid. Okay?” He lifted his brows, waiting.
“Okay.” She squeezed his hand and let go, then they climbed out of the pickup.
The fire base buzzed with the usual morning activity. Ace stood in front of the Command Center, stepping impatiently from one foot to the other.
“Sergeant Mills ran checks on the Rader brothers,” Ace said, holding out his phone as Colton and Deanna approached. “Ed’s record is clean but check this out. He filed three lawsuits targeting Precision Aviation after Tom died. All dismissed.”
Colton took the phone. “Three lawsuits? What the heck?”
“And here’s the kicker. Tom’s widow moved to Oregon and remarried,” Ace said triumphantly. “Signed away her claims in the settlement. Ed’s been broke ever since. Lost his house in Billings and was living in his truck.”
Deanna looked at Colton. A man who’d lost his brother, every legal battle, and his home. Desperate enough for ransom. Angry enough for sabotage.
“Did Mills find a connection between Ed and Reeva beyond their photo?” asked Colton.
“Phone records. They’ve been talking three, four times a day for the past five months.” Ace pocketed his phone.
“I need to check on my tanker.” Colton repositioned his baseball cap and turned to Deanna. “Want to come with? The mechanics should be finishing the repairs.”
“Sure. I want to see what the bullets did to your aircraft.”
“Let’s go.” Colton led the way.
THE DRIVE TO BOWMAN Airfield took ten minutes. Colton’s tanker sat on the tarmac, scaffolding around the fuselage where the crew worked on the punctured slurry tank.
Harvey Boone waved them over. “Almost done,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Another hour or two.”
Colton pulled the tissue from his pocket and unwrapped the cigarette butts. “Need to ask you something. Deanna found these on an old logging road near Mount Haggin.”
Harvey took the tissue and sniffed. “Djarum Blacks. Yeah. I know who smokes these.”
“Zeb?” Colton knew the answer before he asked.
“Told that guy a dozen times to keep those things away from my aircraft. Clove cigarettes burn hotter than regular tobacco.” Harvey handed the tissue back. “You found these where?”
“An old logging road off the Mount Haggin access,” said Colton. “The same area where the county officers found his truck.”
Harvey stilled. “He’s the one who took your jumper?”
“That’s what we’re thinking. Along with his brother Ed.”
“Ed?” Harvey bent over to spit, then his brows drew together. “Hang on. Ed was here the other day.”
“What other day?” Deanna went rigid. “Here at the hangar?”
“Yeah, the day before you got shot at,” Harvey said to Colton. “He was checking out a chopper that needed maintenance, he said. Saw him givin’ your tanker a long look.” Harvey rubbed his chin. “Figured he was admiring it. Lots of rotor guys are curious about fixed-wing.”
Deanna and Colton exchanged looks, the implication hanging between them. Ed at the tanker, walking the fuselage, mapping its weak points. Zeb on the radio frequencies and the deployment schedules. The Rader brothers had been working at both ends of the scheme for weeks.
“What about the rifle?” asked Colton. “Zeb ever talk about his guns?”
Harvey snorted. “All the time. That kid had a collection. Bragged about a long-range setup he’d built himself. Said he could hit a coyote at six hundred yards.” Harvey’s expression flattened. “You think he’s the shooter?”
“I’d bet on it,” said Colton. “Knows my flight path and radio frequencies. Has the rifle and the skill.”
“Son of a bitch.” Harvey’s hand tightened on the rag. “Both brothers, the whole time, right under our noses.”
“Looks that way.” Colton glanced at Dash. “How fast can you get her airworthy?”
“Hour. Maybe less if I push it.”
“Push it. We’re going to need her.”
Harvey dipped a nod and headed back to the scaffolding, calling instructions to his crew before he reached them.
Colton turned to Deanna. “Zeb’s the shooter and Ed had access to my aircraft. They’ve been plannin’ this for months.”
“And he supposedly left for a funeral,” said Deanna. “Perfect cover to disappear while staying close.”
“Come on, I’ll drive you back to the fire base, then I’ll come back here and get ready to fly.” They hurried to his pickup and sped back to base.
As they parked and walked toward the Command Center, Colton’s phone rang with “Fly Me to the Moon.”
Deanna’s eyes lit at his ringtone choice, and he gave her a knowing wink.
“Where are you two?” Westlake’s tone was urgent.
“On our way inside. We found out about Ed and Zeb Rader . . .”
Westlake cut in. “Check your phones. We’ve received another video of Kylie. You need to see this.”
Colton looked at Deanna, his fear reflected in her sunglasses. They broke into a run and hurried inside the Command Center as he said to Deanna, “Zeb Rader has been monitoring our every move this whole time. We’ve slapped targets on our backs without knowing it.”
Sergeant Mills had taken the head of the table, a laptop open in front of him, Westlake and Officer Samuelson flanking him while Ace paced the wall.
“This came in fifteen minutes ago.” Mills turned the laptop toward them. “You need to see it before I send it up to the FBI.”
The grainy video, shot in low light, made the details hard to pick out. Kylie sat on a wooden floor. Behind her, a window showed a mountain peak in a smoke-filled sky.
“Twelve hours.” The distorted words filled the room. “The money better be in this account, or she goes up in flames when the fire burns through.”
“Wait, stop the video!” Colton stepped closer to the screen. “Zoom in on the mountain out the window. I know that ridgeline. Mount Haggin’s eastern face. These winds are blowing the Copper Creek Fire straight toward it.”
“He’s right,” said Westlake. “At current rate of spread, fire reaches that area sometime tonight.”
“Then we can’t sit here.” Deanna gritted her teeth. “We have to find Kylie and get her out.”
Mills held up a hand. “Here’s where we stand. The FBI has jurisdiction and a negotiator, but their team is staging out of Salt Lake. Best case, they’re wheels-down in five hours and operational in eight.”
“She doesn’t have eight hours!” Ace slammed his hand on the table. “The fire will beat them there!”
“This won’t move the Bureau any faster, son.” Mills’s voice stayed level, but he pulled out his notebook. “What I can do is work the suspects. Tell me again what your mechanic gave you.”
“Two things.” Colton laid it out. “Ed cased my tanker at the hangar the day before the shooting. And Zeb built a long-range rifle he brags can drop a coyote at six hundred yards. The shooter knew my altitude and approach vectors. Not possible unless he’d been monitoring the air ops frequency.”
“Matches what I pulled overnight.” Mills flipped pages.
“Zeb worked this fire all season until he demobed. Registered three rifles. Ed holds a commercial helicopter certificate and filed the insurance claim on their brother’s estate.
” He clicked his pen. “Ed plans, Zeb executes. Ed’s likely the one holding her. ”
“And if Zeb’s monitoring frequencies,” Westlake put in, “the moment you alert your units by radio, they’ll know we’re coming.”
Mills absorbed that, then nodded once. “Phones only, then, until we lose cell coverage. My units stage dark.” He looked around the table.
“But understand me. Nobody in this room is mounting a rescue. Armed suspects, an active fire zone, a hostage. That’s a job for a trained team, and I don’t have one for eight hours. ”
“Then let me say it a different way, Sergeant.” Westlake spread his hands over the map.
“I’m ordering suppression drops on the fire’s head to protect the Mount Haggin drainage.
That’s happening whether or not Kylie’s up there.
I’m also sending crews up those roads to scout escape routes and structures in the fire’s path.
Standard fire operations, my authority, no permission needed.
” He met Mills’s eyes. “What I’m asking is how you want my people to feed you what they see. ”
The room went still.
Mills studied him for a long beat, then dipped his chin.
“All right. Your crews observe and report. They locate that cabin, they hold their distance and call it in. Nobody makes contact, nobody plays hero. My officers set a roadblock at the Georgetown Lake access road turnoff, and anyone who comes off that mountain goes through us. Anything goes sideways, your people pull back and let law enforcement do its job. That’s the deal, and it’s not negotiable. ”
“Agreed,” said Westlake.
“One more thing.” Mills was writing as he spoke.
“I’ll have county assessor records and Forest Service permits pulled within the hour.
If the Rader family owns so much as an outhouse on that mountain, I’ll have a location for you before your first drop.
” He snapped the notebook shut and headed for the door, then turned. “Be careful.”
As Mills left, Colton’s phone rang. Harvey from the airfield.
“Your bird’s ready,” he said. “Good as new.”
“On my way.” Colton hung up and looked at the others. “Let’s go get her. They’re not gettin’ any money, and they’re not keepin’ Kylie.”
Deanna kissed him hard. “Be careful.”
“Same goes for you.” He tapped her cheek. “Don’t do anything reckless. If you find the cabin, wait for the officers. Don’t you dare confront the Rader brothers.”
“Copy that,” Deanna said, her face taut with apprehension.
“Later,” said Colton. “I’m staying off the main aviation frequency.”
As he hurried to his pickup, Sergeant Mills pulled up in his cruiser. “Forest Service got hold of me. Rader family has a cabin near the base of Mount Haggin.” He showed Colton a topographic map, pointing to an area circled in red. “Right here. I’ve got units on their way.”
Colton studied the map. The Rader cabin perched in a bowl surrounded by ridges. He gauged the fire approaching from the west. Threading a needle, but at least he’d slow it. Time was running out.
“Thanks, Sergeant,” said Colton. “Make sure the others know the location. I told them to wait for your units to get there.”
As Colton sped toward the airfield, one thought nagged at him. They still didn’t know where Reeva had gone. She’d discharged herself from the hospital, but she might be anywhere, including the cabin.
The clock kept ticking, and wildfire waited for no one.