Page 56 of Under Fire in Big Sky

“It’s not too late,” he said.

“For what?”

“To turn around and hop on a plane. We could be relaxing on a beach in Fiji, sipping on papaya juice in less than twenty-four hours.”

If only, but it was too late.

During the Aegis briefing about the New Dawn Revolution and the grand opening of the resort, Olivia had gotten a bad feeling. She should’ve passed on this mission then. Instead, she dragged Eli and IPS, what little family he had, into this dangerous web of terrorism.

“What happened to Paris?” She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.”

The road came to an end, and he stopped. She checked the coordinates. “We’ll have to go on foot another four hundred feet.”

They got out and headed into the park.

“How’s it looking?” Eli asked over the Bluetooth comms in his ear.

“Good,” Bo said. “I’ve only got one heat signature. The person is waiting right at the coordinates. No one else.”

“We’ve got other signatures throughout the park,” Chance said. “Mostly animals. A few people. Nothing odd.”

“Maybe you should wait here.” Stopping, Olivia turned to him. “Shepherd was clear that he wanted to meet me alone.”

Putting an arm around her, he started walking. “We’re almost there.”

She swallowed any objections, even though she was confident this wasn’t the right move.

A man came into sight, standing there waiting. Wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, he was tall and had a wide-shouldered build. “Hi,” he said, waving like he was some kind of tour guide, meeting his party.

Olivia and Eli exchanged a glance.

“I don’t like this,” he said.

As they approached, she could see the guy more clearly. Baby-faced with a smooth jaw, he looked no older than twenty, binoculars hanging around his neck.

This wasn’t Shepherd.

“Are you Ms. Lane from Aegis?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And I take it you’re Mr. Easton?”

Eli nodded.

“Shepherd told me you might be with her. You both look exactly like the picture.” The guy reached into his front pocket, pulled out a photo, and showed them.

It was a snapshot taken of them in the motel room from the vent. Eli was holding the envelope. She was standing

behind him.

“Who are you?” Eli asked.

“I’m Tristan,” he said, putting the photo away.

Eli scrutinized him. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”