He counted to thirty before removing his hand from her mouth, his voice barely a whisper. "We need to keep moving. My vehicle's about a mile north."
"A mile?" Sarah's whisper was pure despair. "In these boots? With this ankle? In the dark?"
"No problem. How about we wait here for them to circle back with thermal imaging?"
"Fine. But I'm billing the Bureau for new shoes. And therapy.Lots of therapy." She shifted, wincing. "Also, possibly a new ankle."
"Let me see." Griff gently probed her ankle in the darkness, feeling the swelling already starting. Not broken but definitely sprained. "Can you put weight on it?"
"I'll have to, won't I?" She slid off her backpack, checking it for damage by touch alone. "At least this feels intact."
“We’ll call that a win.” He grabbed the bag from her hand and helped her up.
They climbed out of the ravine slowly, Griff going first then pulling her up. His eyes had finally stopped streaming, though everything still looked like he was viewing it through frosted glass. Sarah bit back a gasp as she put weight on her ankle, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, taking as much of her weight as he could.
Above them, the moon had risen, providing barely enough light to see by—or would have, if his vision wasn't still compromised and the forest canopy wasn't blocking most of it.
"Who are those guys?" Sarah asked as they moved through the trees, her voice tight with pain and barely audible. "And why do they want me dead?"
"Same reason they wanted my friend Tank dead. You found something you weren't supposed to find."
Sarah was quiet for a long moment, and Griff could practically hear her weighing how much to reveal. "The biological passport scheme," she finally said, her tone carefully neutral. "But that was shut down over a year ago. The investigation was closed. Case sealed."
"Yeah, well, everyone lied." Griff paused, listening. His ears caught something—movement to their left, still distant but getting closer. They were being flanked. Professional tactics. Chechen efficiency. And they'd have night vision gear by now.
"That's what they told us," Sarah said carefully. "That all the players were arrested. The operation dismantled."
"And you believed them?"
Another pause. "I'm a federal agent. I follow official channels."
Griff almost smiled at her evasion. Smart. She didn't trust him yet, wasn't about to admit she'd been conducting an unauthorized investigation. He respected that. "Sure you do. That's why you've been staying late every night, digging through financial records that have nothing to do with some senator's taxes."
She stiffened against him. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Long enough to know you don't believe the official story any more than I do." He adjusted his grip on her as they navigated around a fallen tree, their path lit only by occasional patches of moonlight filtering through the canopy. "Tank found proof it was still active. Still stealing identities from veterans. Still selling them to the highest bidder."
"Why?"
"You tell me. You're the one who's been following the money."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right. And I suppose Stillwater Defense Solutions is a name you stumbled across while reviewing tax returns?"
Sarah's sharp intake of breath told him he'd hit the mark. But she still didn't admit anything. "Even if—hypothetically—someone was still running such an operation, why kill a forensic accountant? Why not bury the evidence deeper?"
"Because you found something they couldn't bury. Something that leads higher up the food chain than anyone wants to admit." More movement, closer now. Time to change direction. The darkness that was hindering them was about to become their enemy's ally. "This way."
"I thought you said your car was north."
"It is. But they're between us and it now." His vision might be compromised, but his tactical instincts were still sharp. Especially when it came to Chechen hunting patterns. "We need to circle around, come at it from?—"
The crack of a rifle shot split the night. Bark exploded from a tree inches from Sarah's head.
He pulled her down the ravine. “Run now. Talk later.”
6
