The Rescue(74)

His next order of business was the plate carrier. They’d agreed to leave the eight-pound metal ballistic plate behind, to reduce the chance of damaging the other gear in the drop, so the plate carrier was essentially an ammunition carrier at this point. With the vest fitted snuggly over his torso, he retrieved the final piece of gear from the bag. A pair of night-vision goggles.

Decker nestled the head mount into place and connected the chin strap, pulling it tight. He attached the PVS-14 night-vision monocular to the head mount and turned it on, assessing its functionality with a quick scan of his surroundings. Pierce had already started toward the target. Flipping the device up and out of his face, he set off for their rendezvous.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Gunther Ross reclined in one of the cheap, bulk office chairs that had been delivered to the warehouse with the operations center team’s equipment. He glanced at the main screen above Robert Cooper’s analyst team, wondering how much longer Harcourt would allow this to continue without results. Decker and Mackenzie’s known business partners had vanished two nights ago, remaining effectively off the grid for the entire forty-eight-hour period. He had to admit it was an impressive feat given the resources put at his disposal. Ross wasn’t sure even he could pull off that kind of a disappearing act.

Jessica Arnay, Mackenzie’s firm’s attorney and a suspected business partner, had remained in plain sight. He suspected her continued presence was most likely due to the time-sensitive and schedule-driven nature of her work on behalf of several rescue organizations that specialized in advocacy for trafficked or domestically abused victims. He’d contemplated grabbing her but decided against it. Arnay wouldn’t know where the others had settled. She might be able to shed some light on a few links he hadn’t discovered, but it wouldn’t be worth the attention another high-profile kidnapping would generate. The attorney didn’t go anywhere without a serious-looking security team that would require lethal means to neutralize. He’d only go there as a last resort.

He’d started to wonder if they’d left town. On the surface it made sense, but something told him that neither Mackenzie nor Decker would simply walk away. Ross had dispatched teams to check on Decker’s estranged daughter in North Carolina and his parents in Minnesota after it became apparent that Decker was interested in more than vanishing without a trace. The teams reported that everyone had disappeared. Decker had somehow managed to remove them from the equation, probably with Mackenzie’s help. He’d denied Ross leverage, which meant he wasn’t done.

His phone rang; caller ID indicated it was Derek Green. He’d meant to call Green a little later and tell him to grab Kurt Aleman. There was no sense in keeping him out there another day. He answered the call.

“Hey. I want you to get Aleman in the morning,” said Gunther.

“I don’t think we can wait that long. Two parachutists just landed north of Aleman’s location. You were right. Decker figured it out.”

“Unbelievable,” said Gunther, standing up. “How far away did they land?”

“My observers couldn’t tell,” said Green. “The parachutists disappeared right after they landed. It looked like a HALO jump. Very low-altitude opening. We never heard the plane.”

“Could they have landed directly on the target and already breached?”

“I don’t think—hold on,” said Green. “Negative. They’re up and moving again. What do you want us to do?”

“Were you able to get any further sense of potential escape routes?”

“I don’t have a good sense of that place at all,” said Green. “Other than some light escaping the ground at night, and some thermal irregularities, you wouldn’t know it was here. That and the trail leading away from the road.”

“All right. Hit the target. Stay connected at all times. I want a live feed. How long until the strike team hits?”

“Ten to fifteen minutes,” said Green. “I have the vehicles staged behind a motel a few miles away. Then it’s another five miles down the dirt trail to the target. We’ll pick up the observation team on the way.”

“Be careful,” said Gunther. “We don’t know who Decker brought along for the ride.”





CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Decker canted his rifle and glanced at the Garmin on his wrist. Ten feet from the northern edge of the target, and all he saw in front of him was a completely flat expanse of central Texas hardscrabble. Kurt Aleman had done an exceptional job camouflaging this place, if he was indeed here. He took a few more steps before sinking to a knee and signaling Pierce. His friend moved up and settled in a foot away.

“Maybe I was wrong,” whispered Pierce.

“There’s definitely something out here,” said Decker. “Has to be. The tire tracks in the satellite picture ended at the edge of the circle on the other side.”

“Whatever we do, we need to do it fast,” said Pierce. “We’re awfully exposed right now.”

Exposed was an understatement.

“Has to be a trapdoor or something on this side.” Decker scanned left and right, still unable to find any indication that the ground ahead of him was fake.

“Maybe we should just walk around to the tire tracks,” said Pierce.

“Hold on,” said Decker, flipping the night-vision device in place over the left side of his face.