“On the target,” Tessman transmitted. “Two windows on the back wall with blackout curtains. No doors.”
“Front door on the south wall and several windows with blackout curtains or film,” Jackson advised.
“Two heat signatures remain in the center of the cabin,” Wilson said. “They haven’t moved.”
“I’m disappointed in Ellison. I expected some security that would let him know we’re here,” Burke whispered. He looked around the ground where he stood, just within the tree line. There were a couple of softball-sized rocks. He picked one up. “We can hit the back windows with rocks and distract them while you come in the front.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jackson said. “We still clear, Taco?”
“Roger that. The heat signature from the west is holding steady and nowhere near your location. I still think it’s a deer.”
“Moving to the door,” Jackson transmitted. Then he and Rogers moved quietly and quickly up to the cabin, each of them pressing their backs to the wooden wall on either side of the door. “In position,” he whispered.
In the back, Tessman picked up a baseball-sized rock. He pointed to the two windows and raised the rock into throwing position, as did Burke.
“In three, two, one,” Burke counted down. “Go.” He and Tessman both pitched their rocks at the windows. His larger rock broke the window with a loud shattering of glass. Tessman’s bounced off after a solid thud, leaving a spiderweb of cracks on the window glass. Both men immediately raised their rifles into firing position.
The unmistakable sound of wood splintering and a solid wood door exploding in and striking the wood wall behind it was heard, immediately followed by Jackson and Rogers’s voices yelling over each other as they rushed into the cabin.
“Hands up!” Jackson called.
“Let me see your hands!” Rogers shouted.
“Federal agents with a warrant!” Jackson added.
“Freeze!” Rogers shrieked when the two men ran in opposite directions from the dining table they’d been seated at.
“Gun!” Jackson yelled as one of the men grabbed a gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Drop it!”
As a single gunshot rang out, a figure in a tan Carhartt jacket dove through the shattered window and rolled to the ground. He popped up onto his feet as Burke fired a burst from his rifle, the bullets striking the ground in front of the man in the direction he faced.
“Freeze right there!” Burke yelled.
The man put his hands up and turned to face Burke and Tessman. It wasn’t Ellison.
“Got one out back. Not our target. Sitrep Jax?” Burke transmitted.
“One down, not our target either. Powder is assessing him. He’ll live,” Jackson replied.
“Taco, widen the viewing area of the drone. Our target has to be out there somewhere,” Burke said. “On the ground, spread eagle!” he ordered the man in the tan Carhartt jacket. He reluctantly dropped to the ground as directed. Burke kept him covered as Tessman searched him and then secured his hands in zip ties behind his back.
“Are you ready for the local LEOs?” Yvette’s voice came through comms.
“We will need an ambulance, so yes, call them in, Control,” Jax replied.
None of the men from Shepherd Security wanted to have anyone else in the area, not until they either got confirmation that Mark Ellison was not in the area, despite the fact that his pickup truck was, or they found him. But there was a wounded man who needed medical attention beyond what Rogers could render to him on the scene. He needed a surgeon.
“Mark Ellison? Where is he?” Burke asked the man in the Carhartt jacket.
“Don’t know him,” he lied.
“His truck is parked at the next cabin, up the way,” Burke said.
“Haven’t taken a walk, don’t know who, if anyone, is also in the area,” tan Carhartt man said. He had no ID on him, and he wasn’t giving up his name.
Tessman opened the fingerprint app on his phone and pressed the man’s fingers to the screen. “I’m going to guess you have a record, and we’ll know your name and address soon. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re from Minnesota, same as Ellison.”
Through comms, they could hear a similar line of questioning taking place by Jackson inside the cabin. The perp in there couldn’t have been wounded too seriously. He was also avoiding answering questions with doubletalk.
