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Before they could start forward, Daks handed a small plastic bag to Roman.
“One of Leslie’s shirts,” he explained. “Hank thought it wouldn’t hurt to hunt for her at the same time. Especially since there’s a possibility…”
His voice dropped off as he looked at Beck.
“You don’t have to watch your words,” she told him. “I know there’s a good possibility she stumbled into them and they have her.” She took a breath. “We’ll do whatever we have to. These men are dangerous and have to be stopped. I trust you to protect Leslie.”
Well, she trusted Roman anyway. She bit back the fear surging through her.
“I won’t let you down,” he promised. Then he looked at Paladin and commanded, “Finden.”
The dog rose from his seat beside Roman and headed up the road. After they’d gone about twenty feet, he crossed the road, tugging Roman after him, and began to sniff the boulders and rocks that were part of the mountain. Beck watched as the dog paced back and forth in certain spots, sniffing hard, then moving on to another place.
“There are definitely explosives around here,” Roman told her. “But it’s hard to tell how old the scent is, or if the materials were used to create tunnels or remove blockages or whatever.”
“Are there mines of any kind here?” Beck asked.
“Not really active ones,” Daks told them. “Hank checked everything about this area before he signed the contract to use the property for our activity. He’s reaching out to his contacts to see if he can find any large orders for explosives over the past five years.”
“There have to be a ton of them,” Beck pointed out. “Legitimate ones for mining, construction, all kinds of things. How do you separate them?”
“That’s Swede’s job. He’s a living computer, I swear. He writes programs for anything we need and searches out information.”
“But five years. That’s a long time.”
“That’s since their little flurry of activity establishing themselves. We think they may have created small events that did not get publicity, activities where they could test parts of their operation.”
“Do they work?” Beck asked. “What do they do for money?”
“Off the books stuff,” Daks told her. “Remember, they don’t apply for any kind of license, and they don’t pay taxes. Whatever they do is strictly off the books, at least the legitimate ones.”
As they talked, they were watching Roman and Paladin. The dog moved with purpose, sniffing first one area then another, then sometimes checking the first one again.
“There’s been explosives here at some time,” Daks told her. “Paladin can pick up the faintest traces of it, even if some time has passed.”
But, after ten minutes, Paladin stopped, looked up at Roman then sat at his feet, waiting for his next instruction. Roman patted the dog’s head and walked him back to where Beck and Daks were waiting.
“Why not have him get a sniff of Leslie’s sweater?” Beck asked.
Roman looked as if he was choosing his words. “I really want to get a lead on explosives if they are here.” He studied her face. “And I have a feeling that if we find those explosives, if indeed there are any—which I am more and more convinced is the fact—we’ll also find Leslie.”
Nausea swept over Beck, and she tightened her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms.
“You’re convinced they’ve got her.”
Roman touched her chin with the tip of a finger. “Look at it this way. We haven’t found her lying in a ditch or a ravine, which is very good. Hank hasn’t called to tell us she’s returned to the activity site. That leaves only one option, so I have to proceed as if that’s the correct one.”
“And what happens if you find her? Then? The dynamite? How do you get her away from them safely? And keep them from setting off the explosives?”
“Hank and I discussed it. First, we have to locate the explosives and the Loyalists. Then, if they have Leslie, we have a plan. So, let’s get moving to the next most likely place and give Paladin free rein with his nose again.”
* * *
“Vern?”
Rusty’s voice echoed down from the top of the narrow tunnel. Then the man himself came sliding back down into the cave, breathing hard.
“You saw something,” Vern guessed. “And what happened to the sat phone I gave you?”
“I had to tell you this in person. Vern, there’s people out there.” He stopped to take a breath and steady himself. “They’re a good distance away, but those field glasses are truly high powered. They can see a long way.”
“Yes. So, tell me what you saw?”
Yes, what did you see? Leslie wanted to scream the question. Had Hank sent someone to look for her? God. If she got out of this, she was never going off on her own again. Beck was always telling her not to be so adventurous. Well, her days of adventure were over. Definitely. Providing she got out of this alive.
“Okay. Here’s what I saw.” He blew out a breath. “A pickup came around the curve, and you know how far away that is.”
“Did it stop?” Vern asked.
Rusty nodded. “It did. And a man and a woman climbed up from where they apparently were waiting, pulling a motorcycle.”
“Did it look like they’d been waiting for him?”
“Yes. But here’s the thing. There was a dog in the pickup. The guy with the motorcycle got him, and I could tell he’s the dog’s handler. And, Vern?”
“Yeah?”
“He walked the dog over next to the huge boulders and walls, and the dog began sniffing around.”
“Shit.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Shit is right,” Stryker repeated. “Goddamn dog’s a bomb sniffer.”
Leslie bit down on her lip to keep from making a sound. A bomb sniffer? That meant that Brotherhood Protectors were somehow aware of this group and that they might have explosives. And they could surmise that she had stumbled into these people. That meant they had a rescue plan for her. She hoped.
