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Duke pushed a branch out of the way. “Daniel Boone is mostly a wide-open forest, a lot of pretty clear terrain, with gentle, low-country slopes that top out at about twenty degrees. Most of the deeper woods are around the creeks. We can be at the creek in about thirty minutes, if we move fast. That’s where we’ll set up camp.”
They hiked in silence, the only human sounds they heard were their footsteps and their own breathing. Duke moved faster as the dusk deepened. At least the temperature was falling, cooling off from the heat of the day. They followed the troughs of the rolling hills into thickening woods until Duke raised his hand. “The creek is ahead, down that incline. I know we’d all like to keep going, but there’s no point in pushing on now. They have three, maybe four hours on us. This is as good a spot as any for the night. We’re open to the sky, but there won’t be any rain tonight, so we don’t have to worry about shelter. We can even use the camp stoves, but after tonight we’ll have to be more careful. We can’t risk being spotted.”
Soon each of them had their bivvy sacks rolled out, their pads and lightweight sleeping bags inside, laid in a rough circle.
Jack set up the two camp stoves with fuel canisters, watched the small gas flames flare to life, something that always made him feel at home. Chief announced it would be chili and rice for dinner. As long as there was ketchup, Jack was good to go. He put a small pail of water on for coffee.
They sat in a row on a fallen log eating their chili and drinking their instant coffee as it slowly turned pitch black around them. Duke picked up his headlight, adjusted its stretchy band, and slipped it over his head. “That’s better. I wouldn’t want to miss any of this fine gourmet chili.”
They laughed, slipped on their own headlights.
Chief took a final drink of his black coffee, shuddered. “Too bad there isn’t a Starbucks around. It’s only out of politeness I call this coffee.” He shook out his camp cup. “Tell us about where we’re headed tomorrow, Duke.”
Duke said quietly, as if he didn’t want to alarm any critters nearby hunkered down for the night, “As you know, the Daniel Boone National Forest stretches nearly to Ohio. There are hundreds of caves, dozens of lakes and mountains, waterfalls, gorges, creeks like this one, and hundreds of miles of trails. We have private property, owner-operated farms, private houses, roads, large campgrounds, open fields.
“What’s most important is that we get thousands of bikers and campers on any given day in high summer and that plays to our advantage. We’ll stay away from those main trails since we know they’ll want to avoid people. If we find tracks, we’ll know who it is. Still, it’s too bad we don’t have anything that belongs to Manta Ray or I’d have Milo’s hound dog, Cody, out here to track them for us.”
Cam said, “Not to worry, Duke, we have our own human hound dog. Jack’s as good as Cody, right, Jack?”
Jack grinned at her, his headlight making his face glow like a lit-up pumpkin. “Give me the sun and a footprint and I’m good to go.”
“Remember, folks, all this is my best guess.”
Chief shook his empty camp cup at him. “Come on, Duke, you’ve been all over this forest for years. Your best guess is as good as gold. Where do you think they’re headed?”
Duke took a last sip of his coffee and wiped out his camp cup. He pulled a butt-curved map out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it down by the light of the stoves. “I’ll call the two people with Manta Ray his keepers. Let’s say the keepers are experienced hikers, but we know Manta Ray isn’t, he’s a city boy from what you’ve told me, and that makes him the weak link. Whoever busted him out doesn’t want him breaking his neck. So I’ve ruled out these two wilderness areas, here and here—they’d have to cross a couple of gorges, both rough and danger
ous. That’s how I came up with following this creek below us, Hellard Branch, to avoid the ridge where there’s too much chance of being seen. I’m hoping we can pick up their trail somewhere between here and Highway 490.”
They followed his finger on the map. “They’ll have to cross Winding Blade Road, then back into scrubby terrain before they reach the thicker tree cover of Denny Branch. It’s about four miles from our location.”
Jack said, “Manta Ray’s definitely out of his element. He grew up on the streets of Belfast, came to the U.S., and made his living on the streets of New York. Let’s hope it’s a big problem for them.” He adjusted his headlight and rose.
Cam said, “You headed out somewhere, Jack?”
“I’m going to circle around for a while, make sure they’re nowhere near here. One thing I learned in Afghanistan was never underestimate the enemy.”
18
DANIEL BOONE NATIONAL FOREST
MONDAY NIGHT
“It’s dark as a snake pit. All I want is a freaking fire.”
Elena’s headlight flashed in Manta Ray’s direction. “I told you, no fires. The last thing we need is for some ranger to follow his nose and pay us a visit, demand to know who we are and why we’re stupid enough to build a fire in a non-designated area. Eat your mac and cheese, Liam.”
Manta Ray’s headlamp jiggered her way. “Then we’d stick a knife in his gullet, so who cares?” He paused, cocked his head. “Liam? Only cops call me Liam since I hit the States years ago. Why’d you call me Liam?”
Because Manta Ray is too stupid to say out loud. I’m sparing myself. Elena took a bite of the instant mac and cheese Jacobson had picked out for their dinner. It wasn’t all that good, but on the other hand, it wasn’t supposed to be. She wanted to tell him to stop whining, but remembered Sergei telling her the night before exactly how to treat Manta Ray, as he lay next to her in the darkened bedroom, his hand running lightly over her hip.
Keep him safe, but tell him as little as possible. Don’t get in his face, moy golub, unless you’ve got no choice about it. He’s smart and he’s a ruthless killer. It’s our great good luck his partner screwed up that bank robbery. Leave him to me; I’ll deal with him.
She hadn’t seen any sign of his smarts yet or his ruthlessness, and for a moment she doubted Sergei when he’d told her not to bother to try to break Manta Ray for the information, but then she’d looked into the Irishman’s eyes and seen nothing but a fathomless void. But maybe she could get him to let slip where he’d stashed the small locked metal box he’d taken from Cortina Alvarez’s safe-deposit box at the bank. After all, hadn’t Elena’s mother always told her she had a silver tongue because she could talk anybody into anything, even as a little girl? Elena shook her head. She hadn’t thought of her mother in years, not since she’d died with an empty vodka bottle clutched in her skinny hands in her dirty little Moscow apartment.
She looked over at Jacobson. She would have to keep him from trying to beat the crap out of Liam to find out about the metal box, or if Liam chanced to make a break for it. She didn’t think he would. He had to know their job was to keep him safe and take good care of him. Jacobson was throwing pebbles into the underbrush. Hadn’t he noticed the Irishman’s eyes? No, he hadn’t noticed, he hardly noticed anything unless he was going to kill it.
She realized Liam was looking at her, and he asked again, “Why’d you call me Liam?”
