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Trevor shook his head. “Not yet. If the Bratva’s got people inside the FBI, they can trace this connection eventually. But Aviss should get a notification of anyone looking at my laptop or the burner phones. Especially when I used our official system. The problem is, she has no way to notify me unless I turn on one of the burners or keep checking email, and I don’t want to do that.”
“You don’t have alternative emails set up?” Sam frowned at him. “Even I’ve got those. We can buy another burner and use that.”
“We have alternatives, but every contact increases the possibility of discovery. I’m sure the Bratva was watching Aviss already, but since she rescued Young’s family, that attention will have increased. They probably have keyloggers, microphones, and other spyware aimed at her constantly. Even with constant sweeps, they’ve probably got bugs and trackers on her car and home, and we know they’ve got people inside the Bureau. So, if she has to notify me, she will, but we’ll have to move immediately. Preferably by something faster than a car, especially when there’s only one way out.” Or they hiked into the mountains, but without proper supplies, that might be a death sentence.
“I can ask Andreas to fly us out, but it might take a while to get here. I’m sure we can borrow a car from him. Or he can take us somewhere and we can get a car somehow.” She shot a glance at him, then turned back to her laptop.
“We’re not stealing one.” But Aviss could arrange one, or maybe there’d be a loaner at the airstrip. Or maybe that’s where Copperline would come into play. They rented fleet vehicles for their shorter projects; one more wouldn’t be remarkable. “We probably should move now.” Sam grimaced. They should have gotten a good night’s sleep, then checked comms. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and that could get them killed. “We can shower and then sleep in the hangar. Are there sleeping bags or extra blankets here?”
Sam closed her laptop. “Yeah, I found a blow-up mattress and extra bedding in the linen closet. I’ve got dibs on the shower, then I’ll gather all that.” Standing, she gathered her laptop and other gear into her backpack and trotted to the stairs.
Trevor sighed and did the same, turning the router off. Then he covered the furniture and folded the blankets and sheets Sam had put on the bed. He carried the blow-up bed and bedding to the back door and gathered some food too.
Upstairs, the water stopped. Trevor couldn’t think about Sam, flushed from a hot shower. Instead, he gathered water bottles and filled them. As they left, he’d place some unobtrusive markers so they’d know if someone came inside the cabin.
Sam joined him, her long, newly dark hair hanging wet over her shoulders. “I wish I could wash my hair, but I don’t dare if I want the color to stay.” She glanced at his supplies, then frowned at him. “I said I’d get this stuff.”
Trevor grimaced. “I know, but I wanted to keep watch, and I wasn’t going to simply sit here. You’ve still got my weapon, right? Keep a lookout, please.” He grabbed his bag and jogged away. Sam, fresh from the shower, was too tempting. And if he started something, they wouldn’t be leaving. And they had to go while they could. He closed the bathroom door. He had to think rather than react or they’d end up dead.
Chapter eleven
Sam scowled at Trevor’s back. Nothing was going right, they were on the run, and yet all she could think about was him. So annoying. And distracting. She yanked the gun from her backpack and put it on the counter near the back door. Then she put everything she’d gotten out away, trying to return the cabin to the state they’d found it, while watching out the windows.
By the time she secured each window and door, Trevor had returned. “Ready?”
She shouldered her backpack, slid the gun into her jacket pocket, and picked up the bedding. “Ready.” After looking outside, she opened the door and walked down the steps. She didn’t know exactly where the hangar was, but she headed down the driveway toward the airstrip.
“Hey, Sam.” When she turned, Trevor grimaced. “Can I borrow, or rather have, a couple strands of your hair?”
“What?” What an odd request.
His mouth pursed like he’d eaten a lemon. “I’m setting a tamper signal.” He held up a container of clear tape.
“Okay.” Sam put her stuff down, separated out a strand and yanked. “Ow!” That hurt more than she’d expected. She rubbed the spot while holding the hair out to him.
Trevor took it. “Let me cut the next one, okay?” Kneeling, he snapped the hair in half, put a tiny piece of tape on both ends, and fastened one end to the bottom of the door, the other to the frame. He did the same at the top, but closer to the middle of the door. Stepping back, he checked both. “Okay. I’ll put another one on the gate.” He picked up his load and led the way, repeating his low-tech trick on the gate, snipping her hair off. “It’s not perfect, and a professional will check for this kind of thing, but with the mob, it’s got a decent chance of working.” They entered the woods on the other side of the road, taking a needle-covered path between houses. “I don’t want to return to the cabin, but if we must, at least we’ll know if someone’s been there.”
“Okay. But if we have to return, and someone’s been there, we can’t go back, anyway.” That only made sense.
He shook his head. “No, it means we’re prepared to take out whoever is there.”
“Great. A gun battle is a bad idea.” That would draw all kinds of attention.
“Didn’t say that’s what it would take.” He stopped in front of a large steel building with a red roof and walked to the other end. About three-quarters of the way, he crouched and slid a small panel to the side. “I’ve got to be more observant.” He pulled his notebook and entered a code into the lock hidden below the sliding panel. It beeped and whirred, and a door opened. He pulled it wide, then they stepped inside. “I didn’t notice this after I put the car inside the hangar. No wonder there’s practically nothing inside.”
They stood in a long, narrow space, maybe ten feet wide and forty feet long, with a bare concrete floor, no windows, and a door opening on a dark room at the far end. Near them, tall bright red cabinets on wheels probably held tools, and larger tools and supplies were arranged on shelves beyond.
“I’ve got to do better or I’ll get both of us killed.” Trevor closed the door behind her and flipped the light switch, illuminating the dark hall. “The door to the hangar must be concealed, so if someone breaks into the hangar, they won’t find much.”
It seemed like overkill, but maybe not. “It makes sense. Keeping an airplane in Seattle must be expensive. I know aircraft parts are very pricey, so if you keep them safe, offsite, it costs less than a hangar this size at Boeing Field. Or maybe it’s just a regular safety precaution for the Dahl family. They’re a little paranoid about security.” It was another reason she’d never gotten serious with Andreas. If they went out, he had to notify the family security team. He didn’t have personal security at college, but he’d told her that would change after he started working. She didn’t want to live looking over her shoulder constantly.
Sam put the bedding down on a small card table with four chairs folded against the wall. And yet, she was with a man who carried a gun and constantly looking over her shoulder. She was an idiot. As Trevor had said earlier, she had to do better. She walked to the far end of the narrow space and peered in the door. A bathroom, with a toilet, a large utility sink, a tiny shower, and a mop and bucket. She turned on the water. It sputtered, ran reddish with a slightly sulfuric scent, then cleared into a steady stream. A very elaborate set up just to keep potential thieves away or save on storage costs.
Trevor popped his head inside the door. “Perfect. This is way better than the house. We can stay here and rest for a day, then pop back over and check messages before we leave.”
Sam grimaced at the water and shut it off. “Not very comfortable, though.” She left the bathroom. Something about the room bothered her, though, and not just the lack of windows.
“True. Let’s get what we need from the car while it’s daylight.” He stood at the far end of the narrow space. “I found the door to the hangar. It can only be opened from this side.” He pulled and turned long handles from brackets on the wall about six feet apart, then pushed near the floor. The wall swung up and into the hangar, legs dropping down to hold the wall up, thin cables running from the bottom of the legs up to the top of the wall door. “That’s heavy.” He walked under the door raised above their heads and peered at the legs. “If we need to hide in a hurry, you’ll have to press the door up to unlatch the legs. Then they should retract as the door comes down. I hope. Otherwise, it won’t be quick.” He turned to the car. “Let’s get what we need. The extra clothes will make decent pillows, and the cooking stove will be easy to move in a hurry, or we can use it in the bathroom where there’s a fan.”
