“PISCOs have a unique and distinct electromagnetic signature on all their black sites.” Hunter's smile was cold. “We found a black site in Little Turkey. One that’s not in the military’s secured databases. An off-the-books black site in an area where you fled from can’t be a coincidence.”
“Definitely not.” Britt's heart accelerated, blood rushing in her ears like distant surf. The Visitor. The room where he'd kept her for over a year. The voice recordings played on an endlessloop, trying to break down her mind even when she had no memory to break. The struggle to keep her sanity and know who she was.
“We leave in an hour,” Hunter said. “We’ll destroy the site. Anyone found there will be brought to our ghost site on Dove Island. Nothing will happen with the hostages until we get further instructions from you?—”
“No need.” Britt handed the compass back to him, her decision crystallizing into something hard and immovable. “I’m coming with you.”
Chapter 51
"Three clicks ahead," the driver announced, his voice low and graveled from years of smoking Cuban cigars.
Britt stared out at the landscape as it transformed. The convoy snaked through the unmarked roads leading to Little Turkey on the island of St. Killian. The fleet of black SUVs moved silently. Even with the windows sealed, the stench of rotting garbage permeated the air.
Hunter sat beside her in the lead vehicle, the brass compass resting in his palm. Its needle quivered with growing intensity as they approached their destination.
"Stop here," Hunter ordered as they reached the edge where jungle met wasteland. The vehicles pulled to a halt, engines quieting to a soft purr.
The team assembled—twelve men and women, each selected for their particular talents. No uniforms or tactical gear marked them as a unit, just an assortment of dark clothing and the unmistakable bulges of concealed weapons. These weren't soldiers. They were a motley crew of mercenaries honed by years in the trenches of Quattro's weapons trade.
As the engines quieted, Britt stepped out of the SUV, the humid night air clinging to her skin. Around her, the teamemerged from their vehicles, moving with practiced stealth into the cover of the surrounding vegetation.
"Felix, you got eyes?" Hunter asked a lean man assembling what looked like a modified thermal scanner.
Felix nodded, his fingers dancing across the device. "Give me two minutes to calibrate. This garbage heap messes with the readings."
Britt watched as Hunter consulted the compass, following its needle into the dense jungle that bordered the northwestern edge of the landfill. The foliage closed around them, vines snaking across their path, the ground soft and yielding beneath their feet.
"Here," Hunter said after fifty yards of careful navigation. He pointed to a small clearing where the compass needle spun wildly. "Underground access point should be close."
Felix approached with his scanner, sweeping it across the ground. "Got heat signatures. At least four bodies, maybe six, about thirty feet down."
"The Visitor," Britt whispered, the name tasting like poison on her tongue. He had to be down there. She wanted this to end, once and for all, tonight.
"Spread out," Hunter instructed the team. "Find me the entry point."
It took less than ten minutes—a section of ground that rang hollow when tapped. The team cleared vegetation to reveal a metal hatch disguised as part of the forest floor.
“Fucking needle in a haystack,” Felix muttered. "No wonder nobody found this place."
"Mari, you're up." Hunter nodded to a stocky woman who immediately began unpacking equipment from her rucksack.
"What's the play?" Britt asked Hunter as Mari worked.
"We're placing charges around the perimeter," he explained, pointing to spots on a rough sketch of the underground facilitythat Felix's scanner had mapped. "When we blow it, the whole structure collapses inward. Quick and clean."
And final. No more Visitor. No more threats.
"How long?" Britt asked.
"Twenty minutes to place the charges. Another five to clear the blast radius. Then it's over,” Hunter said.
Mari approached them. "First set of charges ready. My people are working on the rest."
Hunter nodded. "Good. Let's?—"
The sound of an approaching vehicle cut him off. The team instantly melted into the jungle, weapons appearing in hands as if conjured.
"Hold," Hunter said into his comm, a simple earpiece that connected the team. "Ozzy, eyes?"
