Chapter 20 #3
“Sullivan’s right,” Sheriff Donovan said.
“I’ve dealt with these people for years.
They’re paranoid and well-armed. If we storm in, they’ll see it coming.
Assuming they don’t blow us up at the perimeter.
Either way, they’ll kill her—and who knows who else—before we reach her.
We’ll have another Waco situation, and no one needs that. ”
Sully paced the small clearing. “And there are innocents in there. Children. Families. We can’t risk a firefight.”
“So what’s your suggestion then?”
“We need intel.” Sully stopped pacing. “We need to know the layout, where they might be holding her, guard positions, everything.”
Agent Sinclair, a young woman with a tech background, stepped forward. “I have a surveillance drone in my vehicle. Small, nearly silent. Infrared capabilities.”
Martinez nodded. “Get it. We need eyes inside that compound before we make any moves.”
While Sinclair jogged back to retrieve the drone, Sully pulled out his phone and tried Elena’s number again. Straight to voicemail. He studied the aerial map they had showing only the general outline of the property.
“Elena mentioned a compound jail,” he said. “A place where they kept people who committed a crime or some other infraction against the community. That’s likely where they’re holding her.”
“Or they could be using her as bait in an ambush,” Ramirez said.
“Either way, we need that aerial view,” Martinez said.
Sinclair returned with a small case. She opened it to reveal a compact drone with four rotors. “This baby can fly for forty minutes on a charge,” she said as she assembled it. “Thermal imaging, night vision, and it transmits directly to this tablet. Almost completely silent above fifty feet.”
“Launch it from here,” Martinez instructed. “Keep it high until you’re over the compound, then drop down for detail.”
Sinclair nodded, finished the preflight check, and launched the drone. The aircraft rose silently into the sky, soon disappearing from view.
“Heading east,” Sinclair narrated, eyes fixed on the tablet. “Approaching the compound perimeter now.”
The group gathered around, watching the screen as grainy night vision footage showed the compound coming into view. The drone descended to capture more detail.
“There.” Sinclair pointed. “Main house, barracks-style buildings, what looks like a mess hall, gardens, livestock pens.”
Sully studied the layout, searching for anything that might indicate where Elena was being held. “Can you get thermal?”
Sinclair switched to infrared mode. The screen bloomed with colored heat signatures—dozens of them spread throughout the buildings.
“Heavy concentration in that central building,” Martinez noted. “Probably their communal area.”
“What’s that smaller structure to the north?” Sully pointed to an isolated building showing two heat signatures reclining inside and one standing on the outside.
“Looks like a jail to me. Two people in cells and one guard.”
“That’s where she’ll be,” Sully said. “Isolated, imprisoned.” His heart squeezed at the thought of Elena, the woman who loved the outdoors and being free, trapped like an animal.
The drone moved closer to the small building, dropping altitude for a better view. “Just that one guard at the entrance,” Sinclair reported. “And those two heat signatures inside are in separate rooms or cells.”
“One of those has to be Elena,” Sully said.
A flash appeared on the screen, followed by static.
“What happened?” Martinez demanded.
Sinclair tapped the screen, then gave a grunt and shook her head. “Someone shot it down. Signal’s gone.”
“They’re watching for surveillance,” Donovan said. “Probably have designated spotters. Hope that doesn’t get her killed.”
Sully ignored the words. He couldn’t think that way. He turned aside, processing what they’d seen. Thankfully, they had some intel now—the general layout, the likely location where Elena was being held, and confirmation that the compound was on high alert.
“At least we know where to focus,” Martinez said. “But a frontal assault is still too risky.”
“We need someone on the inside,” Sully said.
“Infiltration?” Martinez looked skeptical. “How are you thinking to manage that?”
“Not all of us. Just one of us.”
“Who?” Donovan asked.
“Me,” Sully said.
Martinez crossed his arms. “How are you planning to do that?”
“I don’t know.” Sully had the vague rudiments of a plan in his head but wasn’t sure about the details.
And details were important. “Two people know me. Spencer Barnes and a woman by the name of Lindy Grace. Spencer is on the run with a BOLO out on him. We don’t know that he didn’t return here, but since he was spotted at a convenience store one county over, headed in the opposite direction of these mountains, I think it’s an educated guess that he’s not there.
Lindy Grace might recognize me, but she seemed sympathetic to Elena. She might help me.”
“You want to take that chance?”
“I don’t think we have a choice. We’ve already spent too much time debating this. We need a plan, and this is the best I think we’ve got.”