Page 41 of Silent Target

She stares at me. “Your taste buds died years ago, didn’t they?”

“Probably.”

Frank slaps one hand against the counter. “I’ve known him twenty years and never heard him joke.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

That makes them both laugh.

Their amusement ends when Frank spreads a topographic map across the counter.

He points to a heavily wooded section of West Virginia.

“They’re here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Three unmarked helicopters flew over yesterday. Roadblocks went up this morning, and no hunters are being allowed near this valley.”

“Local law enforcement?”

“No. Federal vehicles without plates.”

Evie leans over the map. “They’re sealing every road into the area.”

“Trying to,” I say.

Frank taps a narrow line running across the eastern ridge. “Old logging trail. Washed out in two places, but it’ll get you within five miles.”

I study the elevation lines.

Steep terrain.

Limited visibility.

Perfect ambush country.

“We go in on foot.”

Evie looks at me. “Against how many?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not encouraging.”

“No.”

She exhales. “You answer every terrifying question with one word.”

“It saves time.”

“And somehow, it makes me feel better.”

I look at her.

She trusts me.

I don’t know exactly when it happened.