Page 149 of False Flag

Live in the moment. Nothing existed but the world in front of him.

He dialed in and scanned the woods that edged the park. He had no choice but to do his job, while Staci did hers.

She had a gun. She knew how to fight. At the very least, she knew how to hide.

Movement caught his eye, and Jake let out a whistle, then peeled away from the team with Luke Sevick. They had no idea how many Truthers were here, so they would pursue in teams of two.

The Truthers had likely pulled back the moment the governor’s and the premier’s security details put a halt to the proceedings. Staci’s livestream had yielded nearly instantaneous results.

Now Jake pursued a Truther who was pretending to be Antifa…or an anarchist. These guys had a lot to learn about how to pull off a false flag operation. So far, only their own kind—men like Beau—had been fooled.

The man who fled toward the trees was not military. Not particularly skilled. He’d probably been trying to work his way back to the parking lot when Jake spotted him. But now he was forced to go deeper into the woods as another man made a break for the lot.

Luke peeled off to tackle the other man as he headed for the cars, while Jake pursued the man who’d entered the thick second-growth forest. He radioed the team with an update.

Solis and Meyers were in pursuit of two suspected Truthers who’d been spotted on the other side of the gazebo. Meyers commented that it was like playing paintball with amateurs.

Solis added, “Except we’ve got guns and they’re the ones with paint.”

Possibly deadly paint, but still, he’d take a gun over poison spray paint seven days a week.

He paused as the forest ahead went still. Even the birds were silent.

A moment later, he heard the distinctive sound of an aerosol can and got a whiff of paint. He held his breath, reminding himself that Lloyd had sprayed it directly into his throat, a targeted, concentrated burst, while spray in an open area diffused the toxin. The paint version was less likely to be lethal, but Jake didn’t hesitate to don the mask he had at the ready.

Paint particles drifted in the air and settled on leaves. Yellow.

He was playing paintball with a fool who was leaving a clear trail, which led to a large tree. Either the guy was behind the tree or in the shrub next to it.

He waited, but there was no sound. No movement. No more aerosol bursts.

The guy had patience. He’d give him that.

“Did you see the live stream?”

No answer.

“Gerard is dead. So if you were thinking you could cut a deal by turning on him, that’ll be hard to do.”

Still nothing.

“Basically, you’re fucked. Unless you can tell me who gave you the biotoxin.”

Silence.

“Was it Riley? Dahlia? Casper Osborne?”

After a pause, the man spoke. “It was Ace.”

“I’m going to need you to say his real name.”

“Riley. Riley gave us all the spray cans.”

“And where is Riley now?”

“He bolted. Motherfucker took my car. I’d say he went to Osborne’s, but that would be stupid at this point.”

“Osborne’s place on Whidbey, or Letora?”