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Mason held up a flat metal object, angling it to catch the light. “Some kind of golf thing maybe? Has an emblem on it.”
Tai zoomed in the camera. Bridger’s stomach dropped. The ornate crest was unmistakable—an eagle perched on a globe, the letters TCC etched below.
The Terminal Country Club. The Consortium’s mocking calling card.
Cold dread trickled down Bridger’s spine. He kept his face neutral, not wanting to alarm Jane. But the divot tool’s presence here confirmed his worst fears. Jason was chasing the Consortium. Or were they chasing him?
Both, most likely.
Bridger struggled to rein in the storm of emotions surging through him. Anger, guilt, fear all jockeyed for control.
Jane’s soft voice broke the tense silence. “What’s TCC mean?”
“Terminal Country Club,” he muttered.
He hated the hope that shone in her eyes.
“Where’s this Terminal Country Club?” she asked.
He and Pegasus exchanged a weighted look.
“It’s not a real place,” Pegs said carefully. “More of an inside joke.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open as realization clearly dawned. “You mean the Consortium.”
“Roger that,” Tai said over the open link. “Jay-man was on the right track.”
Onscreen, the team finished sweeping the abandoned building. No further clues materialized.
Bridger swallowed his disappointment. “Time you cleared out,” he said gruffly. “I want wheels up before sundown.”
“I’m gonna stow this in an F-bag,” Mason announced. “Can’t be too careful.”
Bridger watched him slip the divot tool in a Faraday bag, a lined pouch designed to block the transmission of radio waves. Smart thinking. The Consortium loved their tech.
Almost as much as he and his team did.
As Kate did a final sweep near the bar, she paused. “I’ve got more of Jason’s prints here. They lead to...” Her voice trailed off.
Bridger leaned forward intently. The prints in the thick dust were unmistakably his friend’s. “What is it, Kate?”
“There’s something written on the mirror behind the bar. Numbers.” Kate’s body cam caught her reflection from the mirror as she frowned in concentration. “A code, maybe?”
Tai flew a tiny drone close to the glass. A line of numbers had been traced onto the filmy surface with a finger.
Bridger’s pulse quickened. Jason was onto something. The abandoned airfield, the hidden message—his friend had pieced together a trail only he could follow.
“I’m on this,” Paige announced over audio. “I’m not as good a cryptographer as the Jay-man, but I’ve got skills.”
“And friends in high places,” Tai added.
Between her own formidable skills, and the trusted people in her tight inner circle of white-hat hackers, Paige would break the code.
With any luck, the numbers on the mirror would reveal Jason’s next move.
Bridger met Jane’s gaze. Her eyes shone with renewed hope. They’d bring Jason home. One clue at a time, they’d follow their friend’s lead.
No matter what the Consortium threw their way next.
