Chapter 15

“So that’s where we think he’s hiding,” Taylor said, summing up everything they’d learned so far.

Gathered in the commander’s office were Lt. Colonel Simmons, Chenier, and Inspector Davis. Although word had started leaking out to the soldiers of at least a basic outline of what had happened, the Army had decided to still keep everything as close to the vest as possible. Taylor wasn’t sure that was going to be possible, considering they’d shortly have several hundred men out combing the desert for their commander, but he never put it beyond the Army to outdo its ingrained paranoia.

“So you want us out here, running patrols as if we’re looking for him, right?” Chenier asked, pointing at an area miles east of the hunting lodges Deputy Morris had identified as the best place to find Lane.

“What? Why wouldn’t you just load up your men and go get him?” Davis asked.

“Because they’re worried General Lane will hear them coming and he’ll make a run for it. There’s only one road up into this area pretty far into the foothills, and there isn’t a lot of cover until you get to them. He’ll be able to see us coming from miles off if we come right at him. Remember that behind him is a labyrinth of hills and scattered woodland that he’s already scouted and set up supply caches in.”

Taylor was impressed. He’d tagged Simmons as coming up through a rear unit path, maybe through the signal or engineering corps before he became a glorified functionary. Apparently, he’d either paid enough attention in training or had enough field experience to see why Lane would have picked that spot. Davis, of course, had neither.

“So what, you’re going to go in there by yourself?” he said, looking at Taylor. “Looking to get more glory and end up on some more newspapers?”

“Why would that happen? I thought your whole thing was to keep this under the radar. I don’t care how remote it is, you don’t think someone’s going to get wind of a couple of companies tearing through the desert towards a national park in Humvees?”

“We can explain it as maneuvers. What matters is not letting General Lane escape. The only way to do that is overwhelming force.”

“If you haven’t figured out from how we spent the last twenty years, and Vietnam before that, overwhelming force is shit for finding someone who’s gone to ground. This is a simple extraction. We’ve done it before and I’m comfortable on this kind of ground. We can swing south and come in on foot from the south. We’ll hit the wooded area well before we get to the lodges, allowing us to move on him unseen. If Chenier makes enough noise to make a search seem credible but not close enough to be an immediate concern, he should be focused that way, and not notice us.”

“I know you were trained for this, but she wasn’t,” Davis said, pointing at Whitaker. “At least bring a squad with you. You need to take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously. The difference between us is that I know what I’m doing and you’re way out of your league. The units you have here now are national guardsmen and units half made up of replacements, all of whom are trained to roll around in Humvees and knock shit down. None of them are trained for this kind of thing, and neither are Chenier’s MPs. Whitaker has at least done this kind of thing with me before. No offense Colonel, but I’ll take her over your men.”

“It’s your call. It was made clear to me last night that we are to defer to your expertise.”

“You can’t...”

“We can. There’s nothing left for you to do here, Mr. Davis. You should head back to Washington and let us take care of business. You came out here to put an end to the black market ring, and it’s over. Nothing else’ll go missing. It’s time to pack up and leave.”

“I won’t...”

“You will,” Simmons said. “I may only be acting commander, but you’re a visitor on this base, and I think Agent Taylor’s right, your visit’s over. Go back to DC, and file your reports.”

Davis looked red and opened his mouth to say something before Taylor interrupted him, “Remember what I said the other night Davis. Whatever threats you’re about to make, keep it in mind, because I was dead serious. We’re going to get out of this clear and you’ll be able to claim you were part of the team that helped fix it. Take the win, because you won’t like it if you keep going.”

Davis shut his mouth, glaring at Taylor before he stomped out of the office.

“He’s not going to let that go,” Whitaker said.

“We’ll deal with that when we need to. It doesn’t matter anyway. Even after we catch General Lane, the Army’s not going to want to shine a spotlight on everything that’s happened. They’ll just drop it and act like it never happened. Sweeping things under the rug is a Pentagon specialty. Right now we have real work to deal with.”

Simmons shrugged. He was getting old enough that he’d probably never get to full colonel, so he didn’t seem that concerned. Davis wouldn’t be able to stall his career any more than it had on its own, so it didn’t matter to Simmons if Davis tried to screw over Taylor, given the chance.

“We’ll take a Humvee if that’s okay. I don’t wanna get too close but we also need to swing well southwest of him before we turn north, so we’ll have to backtrack a bit and I don’t know what the terrain will look like.”

“Fine, just make sure you get him. They’ve already redirected all units scheduled to train here, and it won’t be long till they assign a new commander, and you can bet he’ll be closer to Davis’s attitude.”

Taylor couldn’t disagree with that. General Leland and the secretary might be giving him some leeway right now, but if they went for Lane and missed, that room to maneuver would end really quickly. The only thing either of them really cared about was protecting the service, and the secretary at least would have Davis sending him reports that would probably explain how Taylor and Whitaker actually screwed this all up.

Today, as with everything else they’ve dealt with, the only thing that mattered was success. They left the office and packed up the Humvee with all the supplies they might need. Taylor requisitioned a real weapon, but Whitaker opted to stick with her sidearm. She had never really trained with long arms, so it made sense she’d want to stick with what she knew. Taylor had spent years with an M4 and wanted to have the versatility if they ended up in a firefight which seemed likely, considering the weapons and ammo Lane had managed to get off base for his fake black market.

They waited until early morning before the sun came up to leave. They both still needed more sleep and Taylor didn’t want to try and go up against Lane in the dark. Even with low-light equipment, they could have borrowed, Lane had almost certainly walked the terrain several times, learning it. He would have planned his fallback knowing his pursuers would track him there. While Taylor was convinced his plan was to run for it if he found the Army or law enforcement was closing in, Lane had enough experience to know that might not be possible, which is why he took all those weapons with him. He’d have the lay of the land, giving him the advantage if they went for him in the dark.

Taylor and Whitaker drove in silence west out of the base for two and a half hours, most of it on a local farm road that was empty except for the random dump truck hauling who knows what from the mining operations. Finally, they turned north on a dirt road they’d traced out before leaving. It ran more or less parallel to the hunting lodges up into the mountains. The Humvee had standard Army GPS units and Taylor had worked out the grid points where they needed to make turns. Instead of streets and businesses, the maps they were working off of were more or less topographical. It was better than the ones Taylor had used several years ago when he was still in the service. It was showing roads and markers for structures, which none of his had had.

The last part of the drive was off-road, skirting along the river bank and up into the foothills, bouncing around as they drove over uneven ground. It was slow going, since Taylor didn’t want to damage the vehicle by pushing it too hard. Even though they left at first light, it was well after lunch when he finally pulled the Humvee to a stop and shut off the engine. It was February, so the heat wasn’t going to be overbearing, but they still had three miles of moderately rough terrain to hike before they got to the hunting cabins where Lane was most likely hiding. They’d driven near the wooded area, but Taylor had made the call to stop in a dip in the terrain, which would help keep the noise of their vehicle from being overheard. Although they could probably go a little further before anyone at the cabins could hear them, Lane would still be on high alert and listening for any indication of pursuit and Taylor didn’t want to risk it.

Whitaker was also finally dressed for this kind of work, still wearing the borrowed BDUs and Army-issued boots. While it was strangely different from her normal cookie-cutter G-man look, or G-woman in this case, it was at least practical. On several previous cases, she’d had a rough time going through bad terrain in clothes not meant for that kind of environment.

Taylor led the way, carrying his weapon in his arms at the ready, eyes scanning back and forth as they walked. They were traveling very slowly, Taylor occasionally stopping them to look at something and then continuing on without a word. After almost an hour spent traveling only halfway, Whitaker pulled on Taylors’ arm and signaled for him to lean in so she could whisper to him.

“Why are we creeping up like this? We’re still more than a mile away?”

“Lane’s had too much time to prepare. He may be expecting us to just drive up directly at him, but he would have prepared for someone to do exactly what we’re doing.”

“This far out, though? I get it, you’re being careful, but every minute we delay is another minute he could be making a run for it.”

She turned to step past him, lifting her foot up, only to be yanked back hard by Taylor.

“What the...” she started before stopping as Taylor held up a hand and kneeled down.

Moving gently, Taylor swept away some dirt and debris on the ground, revealing a barely covered filament line that was only visible when the light hit it just right. Taylor moved his finger along the path of the line, not touching it, until he pointed at a small collection of stones at the base of a tree.

“Shit,” Whitaker said, realizing what had almost happened.

“This is the first one I’ve seen, but I’m betting there are more.”

“Should we keep going this way? He’s had years to put these out here. Who knows how many we’ll run into?”

“No, he would have started laying these after he ran. He didn’t know when he was going to get figured out and he couldn’t have these out here during hunting season. He’s a sociopath, so he wouldn’t have cared if he blew the legs of some hunter, but he would care about the attention military ordnance turning up in this area would bring. He’d have to abandon using this as a fallback position and find a new place to move his supplies to.”

“Okay, then it tells us we’re on the right track. If he wouldn’t have set these before he ran, then he has to be out here, right?”

“Right. Still, stay behind me and only step where I step. If you thought before was slow, you’re going to hate the rest of this walk.”

Taylor wasn’t exaggerating as their progress slowed to a crawl, with the pair stopping every few steps to check the area thoroughly before they continued. While it took them almost two hours to cover the rest of the distance to the cabins, they’d also managed to avoid six more traps along the way. Taylor made a mental note to have the Army come and clear the area when this was all over. If they’d found seven explosive traps, there had to be dozens more out there, since Lane would have covered the entire rear area of his hide except for a narrow escape route for himself.

Finally, they were at the edge of the wooded area, looking at a clearing that led to only a small semi-circle of four one-room cabins all facing a small gravel cul-de-sac.

“Is he in one of those?” Whitaker whispered, kneeling next to Taylor.

“Maybe. Or maybe he’s off in the tree line. It’d be more comfortable in the cabins, but if the Army came at him heavy, he wouldn’t want to cover that open ground under any serious fire.”

“So do we circle around and see if we can find him?”

“I don’t know. I’m thinking. If we circle around, we’ll have to be really quiet and keep watching for traps. Going to the buildings might be just as bad though. If he isn’t in them, he’ll have rigged them for sure. What we need to do is find the clear escape trail he would have made for himself and come at him through that, so he doesn’t bolt on us. With all these traps, he would have essentially put himself in a cage, since the only out then would be down the road, which puts him in the open.”