Kylie Brant - The Last Warrior

“You aren’t lost again, are you?”

“We aren’t lost. We’re headed for that butte.”

Delaney brought the binoculars up to peer in the direction Eddie had indicated. Distance on the vast lands in the area were deceiving. “Isn’t this the direction I told you to go originally?”

“No one likes a know-it-all woman.”

She grinned at his disgruntled tone. “Or one that’s right. At least I got some great photos of the sheepherders and their flock.”

“Always glad to be of service.”

She laughed. Captain Tapahe had insisted she not come alone. But she had made sure Eddie was fully apprised of the possible danger. Her caution had been lost on him. He showed even more excitement about the slight risk than he did at the possibility of more billable hours. She hadn’t argued when he’d brought his rifle along. After being used for target practice, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

It took a half hour to get close enough for a good view of the looming rocky hillside. They hadn’t passed anyone except the two men watching over the grazing flock of sheep. “Take a wide swing around it. Maybe the shaft opening is on the other side.”

Eddie obediently did as she asked, though it took another forty minutes to come around the land mass. Delaney brought the binoculars up again, scanning the rough-hewn striated sandstone for anything that resembled an opening. Smaller red rock formations made it impossible to get closer in the vehicle, and obstructed her view. “Slow down.” Eddie obediently slowed to a crawl. “I can’t really get a good…wait. What are those up ahead?”

Eddie squinted. “Look like old railroad ties. Or what’s left of them.”

She lowered the binoculars and stared at him. “And what did they use to bring the coal out of the mine?”

“Rail carts.” He accelerated until they got to the spot she’d observed then stopped the vehicle. Carefully, Delaney scanned the top of the butte, mindful of the shooter who had remained hidden while he’d taken sight at her on the Nahkai property. But she could see no one. They got out of the Jeep.

The steel rails had been removed long ago, but old rotting ties still dotted a straight path to the cliff face. Following them with her gaze, Delaney saw the boarded-up entrance of what must be the mine.

Eddie joined her, rifle in hand. “Do me a favor and don’t point that anywhere near me, all right?” she said, only half in jest. The place appeared to be deserted, but she knew how deceptive such appearances could be. Although the path along the ties was wide enough to have accommodated the Jeep, the land on either side of it was dotted with irregularly shaped boulders and spears of rosy sandstone reaching skyward, providing ample chances for concealment.

The sheen of perspiration dampening her clothes wasn’t owed solely to the temperature. They made their way toward the mine entrance. There was something eerie about their journey, with both of them scanning the surrounding area like jumpy kids in a graveyard.

They reached the closed doors to the mine without incident. Eddie turned to face the vehicle, still wary. “Seems odd,” she murmured, pushing against the primitive doors that had been fashioned to block the opening.

“What?”

“There’s a new padlock on these doors.” The lock was shiny, still gleaming. It hadn’t been exposed to the weather for long, unlike the hasp it was fastened to, or the hinges holding the doors to the side beams. “If you were worried about safety, you’d think you’d board the place up completely. Brick in the entrance or something.”

Eddie threw a quick glance over his shoulder. “Maybe they still use it for something.”

She’d seen no need to give him more information about Joe’s case than she’d needed to. “Maybe they do.” Stepping back, she began taking photos of the door, a closer shot of the padlock, and then of the path leading up to it. Something caught her eye, and she motioned Eddie to step aside. The wind was a constant on Navajo lands, but sand collected in places protected by rocks or structures that provided a barrier. It was true here.

There were a couple tire track indentations captured in the light dusting of sand. Because Joe had paid such close attention to them at the cave, she took pictures of each, noting the odd tread apparent on one of them. She eyed the mine entrance speculatively. The tracks seemed to be leading toward, or away from the mine.

She went back to the locked doors, shook them. She could push on either one and get a couple inches gap.

“You want to get in there?”

Just the thought had her palms going clammy. “No.” Definitely not. “But those tire tracks had me wondering if there’s anything inside.”

Peering through the slight opening, she was met by blackness. “Here.” She turned, caught Eddie’s car keys as he tossed them to her. “Try the mini flashlight on the ring.”

Delaney eyed it doubtfully, but turned to press the door open a crack again, shone the tiny beam inside. And immediately caught her breath.

The light glinted off something metallic, something large and solid. Something that looked very much like a bumper.

“I think it’s a match,” Arnie observed, comparing the photo Delaney had printed out to one of the tread from the cave site. “Can’t be sure without the measurements, of course. What do you think, Joe?”

“It’s a match,” he said flatly, standing a little aside from the others. Nothing else made sense. The van that had disappeared once leaving the cave site had almost certainly surfaced again, this time on Graywolf property.

This was the break they’d been waiting for, but his excitement over it was muted. He went to the computer screen, brought up the other photos Delaney had taken and clicked through them. The area was remote. Isolated. Fear and anger pierced him when he saw the scattered rocks, any one of which could have provided cover for Lee or someone like him. He looked over at her, talking animatedly to Arnie and Tapahe and felt the anger take precedence. She had no business deliberately taking a risk like that. Not after what she’d already been through.

She glanced his way and her expression froze, her smile slowly fading. A moment later her chin angled and a cool distant mask descended over her features. Their gazes did battle, neither of them giving an inch.

“It’s your call, Joe,” Tapahe said. “What’s your next move?”

With effort, he tamped down the simmering fury and glanced back at the photos in Arnie’s hand. There was really only one choice to make. “Let’s get the feds back in here. We’ve got less than twenty-four hours to get this operation planned.”

Joe peered out the window of the DEA Bell 407 helicopter, the high-powered, night-vision binoculars trained on their quarry below. “We’ve got visual,” he announced.

John Honani repeated the information into the radio that maintained contact with the strike forces on the ground.

The van driver had been sighted driving cross-country over Graywolf property just after 6:00 p.m. Once he’d gotten onto a roadway heading south they’d alerted the others to stand by. Customs and Border Patrol had had units ready to mobilize as soon as they could give them an approximate destination.

When the time came, the group of six aliens and the coyote had passed over the remote spot of the border undisturbed, all carrying bundles on their back. Those bundles were probably filled with crystal ice.

The van had waited on the States’ side of the border for the aliens to reach it. Once the passengers were loaded, the driver had lost no time heading north again.

“Here.” The agent handed him a high-powered rifle equipped with night-vision scope and Joe lowered the binoculars for a moment to study it. He’d never been tempted to join any other branch of law enforcement, but there was no question that the DEA had better toys.