Alistair McIntyre - Shallow Creek

It had been a dry year, Brendan guessed, because he didn’t need any fancy radar or satellite assistance to track his brother. The plume of brown dust spewing from the truck’s tires could be seen a mile away. Unfortunately, that the trick went both ways. Grant could see him too if he chose to turn around.

Brendan pulled over at the end of the paved road and waited. These little country roads typically didn’t lead to many different places, so chances were good he’d be able to work out Grant’s location without too much trouble.

While he sat idle, his brain still spun. Grant had said he did a lot of customer site visits. Well, these farmers were probably his customers, so that story more than likely held water. On the other hand, if someone wanted to participate in illegal activities, there weren’t many spectators or witnesses out here in the sticks.

One man’s paranoia was another man’s common sense, and now that Brendan saw the lay of the land, perpetrating a drug deal in the middle of nowhere made a lot of sense.

He got out of the truck and stood up on the rocker panel to get a view over the top of the short trees blocking his view of the dirt road his brother was traversing. Well off in the distance he saw the cloud of dust shift and head to his left. The small pair of binoculars he’d stolen from his dad revealed the roof of a big barn off down that way, so Brendan guessed his brother was heading there.

He didn’t have to wait long for his suspicions to prove correct. The dust cloud settled over by the buildings. They stood probably a solid three miles from his current location, and there was no way he was driving his rental down there. They’d see him coming immediately, if anyone cared to watch. Instead, he got back in his truck, drove past the entrance to the side road, and then ditched the truck behind some big bushes sitting just back from the pavement. He’d hidden vehicles more proficiently in his past life, but honestly, the traffic on these little farm roads was light enough that he doubted anyone would notice it, and even if they did, why would they care? It was out of plain sight for anyone approaching from the same direction Brendan had come, and that was the only way in from the main highway.

His boots crunched loudly on the caliche as he jogged down to where he estimated his brother had turned off. The noise stood out like a fart in church, but he knew it was just an illusion caused by the prodigious silence. The lack of ambient sound really got to some people, but these country folk relished it. Moving to the city would be like having elephants trample through their house all day long.

It was a nice day for a jog, but the dry dust eventually clogged his throat. His time in the sandbox now seemed even better spent. Who’d have thought running around in Desolation, Afghanistan would help him sneak up on his brother in the middle of Nowhere, Texas?

He found the turnoff easily since it was the only turn, right where the road dead-ended. A peek around the tall grass running along the barbed wire fence revealed a straight shot up a dirt road to a large barn and a farmhouse. Both were offset to one side of the road, so he could probably get halfway down the path before he needed to climb the fence and cut through the fields to avoid detection.

Ah, to hell with it. He darted across the road entrance and hopped the fence into some tall, dried grass. Apparently the landowner didn’t keep up with his fields, because even Brendan could tell they looked rough and neglected. He trudged along, keeping low to the ground, and staying close to the fence, which gave him an easy reference point for his location.

When he eventually ran out of field and found himself looking at the barbed wire fence dividing his field from the buildings dead ahead, he paused and counted six vehicles, including his brother’s truck. That meant quite a few people were around. He couldn’t see or hear any, which was strange, because the place wasn’t that big. A shiny new tractor stood at attention outside the main doors to the barn, but it didn’t even look used.

Brendan kept watch from a low crouch until he was satisfied no one was outside. After taking a few steps slowly away from the fence, to get more grass cover in front of him, Brendan cut to his right and then followed the fence around to get a view of the back side of the barn. All was clear, so Brendan settled in to wait, something his time in Force Recon had taught him well. The first time they’d done extended reconnaissance training, him and a buddy had traded twelve-hour shifts for days, lying perfectly still, not even moving to piss. And all they had to do was watch. Most people would think that was easy enough, but try watching the same damn thing for twelve-hours every damn day.

Afternoon gradually turned into evening, and finally Brendan spotted someone. A lone man exited a small side door near the back of the barn and lit a cigarette. He stood close enough that the faint hints of secondhand smoke eventually reached Brendan’s nostrils. After a few rapid puffs, the man ground out his nicotine fix on the ground and went back inside. When the door opened, Brendan didn’t see any kind of internal locking mechanism, not even a latch for a padlock, like the outside of the door had. Over the next few hours, while night drew close, the same man repeated this process every fifteen to twenty minutes. Having established this routine, Brendan skirted around so that now he was looking directly at the back of the barn.

From this perspective, Brendan had a clear view of the space between the farmhouse and the barn. No electrical cables ran overhead between the buildings, so either they’d taken the extraordinary measures to bury them, or they hadn’t hooked up any power in the barn. That would mean no alarm inside the barn either, unless they used a battery-operated, wireless setup.

Brendan lay down in the grass and waited for night to fall completely, praying no copperheads or scorpions decided to check him out. Humbly asking his brother to call an ambulance for him wouldn’t look too good right now.

Chapter 31

Brendan stifled a yawn and listened to the steady rhythm of the crickets weaving a symphony of monotony on this cool Texas night. Initially he’d thought this stakeout would be fun and nostalgic, but now he remembered it was never that fun as a Marine either. Even the modest temperature drop had him wishing he’d worn something more insulated than a long-sleeved flannel shirt. Another ten degrees or so and the crickets would probably die off, too.

He yawned again and closed his eyes for a second, resting his forehead down on his arms. Sound sleep had evaded him for days, but now fatigue assaulted him relentlessly. Wouldn’t it be funny if his peaceful snoring gave up his position?

No, probably not.

The smoker hadn’t appeared in about an hour, which was a mild concern considering how regular the guy had been for hours on end. It could be that he ran out of smokes. Depleting your supply this far from civilization probably meant facing a night of withdrawals and irritability, so at least one person was going to be a crabby bastard if Brendan ran into them.

Brendan’s head jerked up suddenly. Crap, how long had he been asleep? His last watch check had been an hour ago, so no more than that. Everything looked the same, but now he could hear muffled voices from inside the barn. A light came on above a door on the opposite side of the barn from the smoker’s door. The voices grew louder now. The door swung open and seven men exited, talking and laughing like a group of guys not too worried about being watched. Lots of jokes and chants for beer flowed between the men, so apparently quitting time had arrived at long last.

One man waited until the rest cleared out of the barn, and then closed the door and padlocked the latch. From the light shining above the shaved head, Brendan easily recognized the giant he knew only as Serge. Maybe he should’ve been surprised, but he wasn’t. He’d cultivated a hunch about that man ever since their encounter with his sister. At least now Brendan had some vindication for deciding to spend the night under the pretty Texas stars with all his favorite critters.