“Then, stop monologuing and send the coordinates.”
“Someone’s impatient. Now, before we start, you do remember the rules, right?”
Tierney huffed. “Six victims. All wearing magnetically sealed collars containing charges that are synced to the perimeter.”
“Correct. And if you try to sneak them out anywhere other than your designated zone, or if my thermal drones pick up your team trying to launch an assault?”
“Boom.”
“And the world gets to watch you fail in real time.”
Her phone vibrated, again.
Pike breathed into the mic. “That’s the first set of coordinates. Well, it’s where they are right now, but if you’re as good as I think you are, you’ll be able to follow their trail. You’ve got forty-five minutes to reach them before the timer hits zero.”
“What about the disarm codes?”
He hummed, that snick-clink sounding over the speaker. “I was going to send them, until I watched your lover disarm that mine in record time. Rumor has it, he’s an ordinance specialist. MARSOC, I believe. I want to see him in action.”
“That’s not part of the deal.”
“The deal’s whatever I want it to be.” Another snick-clink. “I can end the game, now, if you’re rather?—”
“Fine. We’ll do it old school.”
“That’s the spirit. You’d best get moving, the clock’s already counting down.” He paused, flicking that damn lighter one more time. “Good luck, pet. My hunters are eager today.”
Tierney hissed out a breath, staring at the coordinates on the screen, that sound still ringing in her head. “That’s deep into the eastern section. Dense timber. Thick undergrowth. Moving with any kind of speed won’t be easy if we’re not on a trail.”
Buck set his watch, had a timer counting down. “Which I’m sure he’s done on purpose.” He shouldered his rifle. “You lead. I’ve got your six.”
Tierney allowed herself one lingering glance, taking in the blue of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw, before she took off, picking up a suggestion of a trail at the edge of the ravine. It wasn’t much, just a line of lightly depressed ferns and bent branches, but it allowed for a slightly faster pace.
They headed into the heart of the forest, boots silent against the soft ground. Cooler air moved in from the coast, tendrils of fog already rolling across the damp earth. She pushed hard, ignoring the way the salmonberry bushes scratched at her arms and legs, leaving long red welts across her skin. Moisture from the head-high sword ferns dampened their clothes, the encroaching darkness already lacing deep shadows across the forest floor.
They emerged at the coordinates, half an hour later at the bottom of a steep hill, patches of moss ripped off the ground. She crouched, traced the heel strikes in the mud. How several of the saplings had been snapped against the grain. As if someone had scrambled up the incline on their hands and knees in a panic.
Buck stood strong behind her, scope forever searching the trees as he panned across the hill. A mechanical hum raised bumps along her skin as a dark shape moved above them.
Buck went to one knee, covering her as he traced a path from left to right. “Drone. Bastard’s watching us.”
She sighed. “Not much we can do to hide our heat signature. I hope Nick and Dalton get inside one of those structures before it pans their way.”
“Dalton swore Pike wouldn’t see him. That’s all I need to know.” He motioned to the hillside. “Obviously, our couple have moved on. Any idea on direction?”
Tierney waved her hand across the incline. “Someone cut across here in a frenzy not too long ago. No sense of direction, or they would have picked the easier line off to the left, then bore right halfway up where the slope changes. It’s gotta be them. No skilled hunter in his right mind would leave this much of a trail behind if he knew we were tracking them, too.”
Buck chuckled. “I love how you say that as if everyone sees the world the way you do. Sees those marks as anything other than animal tracks.”
“This from the man who got antsy by some scraped off moss.”
“Like I said. I’ve got my hang-ups, too.” He urged her on. “I trust your judgment.”
Four words, and they meant the world to her.
She stood, followed the prints across the hill, noting snapped ferns and boot scuffs in the decaying nurse logs along the path. The tracks became more pronounced, with multiple slips in the mud, one large handprint plastered across a jagged rock. Blood drops stained the stone next to it, the splatters trailing off in the same direction.
They reached the top of the incline when a crack pierced the silence, the echoed report bouncing off the granite cliffs.
