Page 228 of Broken Oath

“Less if everyone stops talking to me.”

Sarah looked toward the operators preparing their equipment.

For five years, she had hunted alone.

Now eight men were preparing to cross a frozen wilderness for her brother.

One of them stood beside her.

She turned toward Rook.

“Thank you.”

His eyes held hers.

“Bring him home before you thank me.”

24

ROOK

Nobody left the operations room for long.

Equipment preparation continued around the search.

Fathom worked from the center station while Shark, limited by his injured shoulder, organized communications and remote surveillance.

The photograph remained on the main monitor.

A chain-link fence.

A snow-covered compound.

Wade standing near one of the concrete buildings.

Alive eleven days earlier.

Sarah looked at the image every time she passed.

As though she needed to confirm it hadn’t disappeared.

Rook understood.

He had done the same thing with photographs of his six dead brothers.

Images sometimes became the only proof a person had existed.

A sharp curse came from Fathom.

Nobody reacted immediately.

Fathom cursed regularly when databases refused to cooperate.

Then his fingers stopped moving.

That got their attention.

“What?” Rook asked.