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Travis was more a fist-in-your-face kind of guy. “The FBI hit a wall with their investigation, which is why they brought us in. If I can earn Brody’s trust, we can get all of our questions answered at once.” Special Agent Roberts suspected Joseph Halstead, a wealthy resident of a small community a few miles northwest of Brody’s training camp. Halstead had come to the top of the cesspool after attending the Charlottesville rally in 2017. Since then, he’d tempered his white nationalist rhetoric, at least in public, and rumor had him making a run for the Oregon legislature. Brody’s munitions camp had opened for the business of making bombs three weeks ago. The FBI hired PTS Security to gain a closer perspective.
Coop focused on the meadow as the moonlight danced in checkered patterns through the swaying branches above. “Maybe it’s time to call it. Arrest Brody and see if he’ll flip.”
“Trust me. Brody won’t flip. He’ll do time because he believes in his cause.”
Coop pushed to his feet. “All the more reason you shouldn’t be here. The guy’s a loose cannon, filled with hate and drunk on propaganda.”
Travis took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “It’s starting to sound like you think I can’t do the job.” He knew that wasn’t the case, but he tired of Coop belaboring the point.
“Damn it. You know Brody’s MO. There’s only one reason he hired you—you had the nerve to be black when you knocked on his door. Best case scenario, he’s not ever going to trust you. Worst case? One of his bombs goes offaccidentallywhile you’re wearing it. It’s too damn dangerous. I can’t believe Luke and MacGyver went along with the plan.” Coop raked a hand through his close-cropped blond hair and turned his back.
Even though his friend wasn’t looking, Travis wiped the smile off his face. He’d suspected as much. Luke and MacGyver had agreed with SS Roberts that Travis would take point on the op. Coop was right. Brody had hired him without thinking twicebecausehe was black. The boss man assumed he’d gotten himself a strong, hard-worker, too ignorant to wonder why he was unloading shipments of AK 47s and C4. There’d be no reason to consider whether he could trust Travis. Brody only had to ensure no one walked away from this except him and hissuperiorrace.
On the other hand, Coop would have had to prove himself worthy of trust, and Brody didn’t trust anyone.
Travis rose to his feet, moved alongside Coop, and bumped his shoulder. “You know that’s why I need to be here, right? This isn’t just another op to me. Brody and whoever is pulling his strings need to go down. Hard. Legally, if possible, but I’m open to making it up as I go. In fact, I’m just the man for the job.”
A short laugh escaped Coop, and he shook his head. “Shit, I figured.”
“Besides, you’ll have my back, right?”
“Hell, yeah. You know it.”
Travis clapped a hand over Coop’s shoulder. “We’ll find the senator’s kid, but we need to identify the target first, or a lot of people are going to get hurt. Brody’s VIP might be the guy with the answers. Let’s give it a few more days.” Travis had hoped to lighten the mood but only got a scowl from Coop.
“If Roberts can keep the senator on the sidelines.” Clearly, Travis hadn’t convinced his friend. Their gazes locked for a moment, and they both nodded. Coop turned to go. “Keep in touch.” He started down the ridge.
Travis kept an eye on him until Coop regained the comparative safety of the trees. Whether or not they agreed on the timeline, there was no doubt Coop would watch his back. His partner had never let him down.
The moon had disappeared while they’d talked, leaving the darkest portion of the night for his trek. He’d have to hustle on his hike and hope his compatriots were sleeping off the previous evening’s whiskey when he arrived.
Thankfully, he’d been able to shake off thoughts of Jordan long enough to meet with Coop. It surprised him his friend hadn’t inquired about the girl Travis had lingered at the bar hoping to encounter, but it was just as well. He hadn’t been looking forward to telling Coop that Brody’s right-hand-man was Kyle Jensen, the guy Travis had pissed off while rescuing the woman he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.
Chapter Three
The day began pleasantlyenough, with the four a.m. darkness gradually giving way to semi-light and finally dawn. A chill in the October morning air numbed Jordan’s fingers and toes as she stood beside Alex on a knoll overlooking a sparsely treed slope. His friend, Liam, was just over the crest of the small hill. With the sunrise, the sky awoke with a splash of brilliant blue. The surrounding landscape came alive with the songs of birds and the chatter of squirrels. She lifted her camera and snapped several pictures of the panoramic view.
Who takes a friend hunting without asking that friend if they’re morally opposed to the indiscriminate killing of animals?Not that she was—Jordan ate meat—but she preferred not to watch the bloody massacre.And why hadn’t Alex thought it prudent to tell her he was bringing another friend with a rifle?
Jordan brushed aside the question. Liam’s presence in the front seat when Alex picked her up had seemed odd, but she’d resolved to make the best of her outing. “It’s gorgeous here.” Alexshushedher, and she swallowed the remainder of her words and her instant irritation.
The sun gradually warmed her. She closed her eyes, allowing the sounds and crisp mountain breeze to soothe her as she breathed in the smell of pine and sagebrush. As a child, she’d spent many weekends hiking forest trails with her dad. It was a shame one must grow up and put childish things aside. Now that her father was gone, she understood how precious those memories were. Sadness threatened to dim her contentment, but she refused to let it spoil her day.
The earsplitting blast of a rifle made her jump and jolted her back to the present. Her eyes flew open, and a roaring in her ears muffled Alex’s steady stream of profanity. He slid the rifle bolt back, ejecting the empty cartridge, and slammed another shell into the chamber. Jordan’s peaceful morning shattered when her gaze landed on the source of Alex’s irritation. A deer in the trees below them struggled to stand, only to stumble when the second bullet slammed into its shoulder. Scrambling frantically, the buck managed to stay on its feet and limp out of sight, one front leg no longer able to hold its weight.
