Something tugged at Bear’s heart, but he ignored it. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”

  “What else do you two need before we hit the sack for the night?”

  “A shower?” Cara asked.

  “A secure phone line,” Bear said.

  “I got ‘em both,” Goldstone replied.

  Bear’s former commanding officer pointed him to a landline before taking Cara upstairs and showing her their accommodations. Bear waited until they were out of earshot before dialing a number he knew by heart.

  “Brandon? It’s Bear. I have a little project for you.”

  22

  The next morning, everyone at the Goldstone residence woke up with the sun. Cara didn’t complain nearly as much as the first time they had to do that, and Bear wondered if it was because her body was already adjusting to the new routine or because she didn’t want to draw attention from Rodger Goldstone.

  The three of them ate a hearty breakfast, mostly in silence. They had said everything they’d needed to last night, and Goldstone wasn’t one to dwell on gratitude. One thank you was enough. Everyone there knew how much he was risking just by putting them up for a single night. No use in wasting more time groveling.

  “I’ve got a truck you can borrow,” Goldstone said. “It needs a little tune-up, but it’ll get you where you need to go. Even got some plates registered under a fake name.”

  “What if you need the backup plan?” Bear asked.

  “I don’t need it more than you do right now.” Goldstone stood and gathered their plates. “Having that truck around makes the missus feel better. I’ll have to get us a new one, but she’ll understand.”

  “Tell her thanks,” Bear said. He’d never met Goldstone’s wife, but from what he’d heard over the years, she’d put up with a lot of the bullshit that came with her husband’s career and never once thought about giving up on him. Not a lot of people could be that supportive from the sidelines.

  Cara drained the rest of her orange juice and handed the glass to Goldstone. “Do you have a pen and some paper?”

  “That I do, Ms. Bishop. Follow me.” Goldstone paused in the doorway. “Riley, go fetch the toolbox in the barn. Meet me in the building behind the cornfield. We’ll get that truck looked over.”

  Bear stepped out into the cool morning air and took a deep breath. It was mid-November and you could smell winter on the wind. There was a crispness that would turn to snow sooner rather than later. He wondered where he’d be when it finally hit. New York? Someplace warmer? Maybe he’d be in a cell. Or maybe he’d be in the ground.

  It wasn’t the most optimistic thought, but it was a realistic one. Bear’s head was full of conflicting thoughts as he made his way to the barn to grab the toolbox. Part of him wanted to cut anchor and run. He’d have a better chance of survival that way.

  But another part of him wanted to see this thing through. For his sake and Jack’s. And Cara Bishop. She deserved to live out the rest of her life. When Bear thought about how much of the world she probably hadn’t seen yet, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. There were thousands of Cara Bishops out there, like the girl he’d rescued in Germany. One man decided to ruin all their lives because he had some sort of savior complex.

  Bear pulled the barn door open and was met with a mixture of hay and manure that was both pungent and somehow relaxing. It smelled like long days of hard work and the kind of exhaustion that made you proud to be alive.

  A single horse was in its stall, along with a cluster of sheep on one side. Bear spotted the toolbox right away and made a beeline for it. Seeing the animals, and the horse especially, made Bear consider, for maybe the first time in his life, what it would be like to live like this. Off the grid. Self-sufficient. Away from people and the problems they create.

  But he didn’t have time to think like that.

  Instead, he grabbed the toolbox and hauled it across Goldstone’s property. He cut through the cornfield, careful not to trample any of the stalks, and found himself face to face with a medium-sized shed. When Bear pulled the doors open, he was met with a black Chevy Silverado.

  There was cracking and crunching from behind Bear, and when he turned, he saw Goldstone making his way through the field.

  “It’s about eight years old at this point, but she runs just fine.”

  Bear looked down at the toolbox in his hands and then up at Goldstone again.

  “You thought I would’ve let my getaway car get rusty? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  “A ruse,” Bear said. “What’s this really about then?”

  “Always good to do a maintenance check before an undetermined amount of time on the road. Wasn’t a complete ruse. Pop the hood for me?”

  Bear set down the box and opened the hood of the truck. Everything looked good at a glance, but he was grateful to get in there anyway. Better to know what he was working with than get surprised on the highway when everything started shutting down.

  “What I really wanted to know—,” Goldstone grunted as he leaned over the engine with a flashlight in one hand, “—was why you’re doing this.”

  If Bear believed in that sort of thing, he would’ve thought Goldstone had heard his thoughts all the way from the barn. “Don’t really have a choice.”

  Goldstone threw him a look and then returned to the job at hand. “We all have a choice. You more than most. You have the ability to disappear. You can go up to Canada or down to Mexico and find a new life to live. But you want to keep this one.”

  “Don’t really like the idea of being on the run for the rest of my life,” Bear said.

  “That’s the ticket. Why else?”

  Bear shifted from one foot to another. He felt like Goldstone was the teacher who had singled him out in front of the class. Bear didn’t have the answer, but he was being forced to work through the problem anyway. Goldstone wasn’t exactly the kind of instructor who would accept anything less than what Bear was capable of.

  “Jack. The girl.” Bear paused for the briefest of seconds. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Jack would be fine on his own. We both know that.” Goldstone began to move around the vehicle now, checking it from all sides. “I like Ms. Bishop. She reminds me of my daughter.”

  “Oh?”

  “Stubborn as a mule.” He chuckled. “Likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “That doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment.”

  Goldstone finished circling the truck and clicked off the flashlight. “Oh, it is. Those are the kinds of people you want to keep close by. They’re a pain in the ass nine times out of ten, but it’s that tenth time that’ll save your life.”

  Bear laughed. He couldn’t argue with that. “Noted.”

  “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Goldstone asked. Bear got the sense that a simple yes wouldn’t be enough of an answer.

  “We can’t let Hughes get away with this. He’s supposed to be protecting this country.”

  “Maybe he is,” Goldstone offered. “Maybe this is his way of doing exactly that.”

  Bear’s face twisted into a grimace. “Are you defending him?”

  “No, sir.” Goldstone’s voice was light and even. “Just presenting another perspective.”

  “Killing innocent people to protect innocent people doesn’t seem like the right solution to our problems.”

  “Can’t say I disagree.”

  Bear ran a hand down his face. “I’m in a position to do something about it.”

  “You are.”

  “So, I have to.”

  “You don’t.”

  Bear was getting tired of the cryptic questioning. “You going to tell me what this is about?”

  Goldstone crossed his arms over his chest. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Something’s holding you back. Something is making you hesitate. I’m trying to get you to admit what it is before that hesitation gets you killed.”

  “I’m just tired of it, you know?” The words came before Bear could stop them. “The conspiracies, the betrayals, the running and hiding. It’s been full tilt since Costa Rica, except for those couple of months on the island. I’d never been happier.”

  “So, you want to give it all up?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “I’ve had that thought more times than I can count. Want to know what conclusion I end up coming to every single time?”

  Bear nodded.

  “Those island moments can only exist in contrast to every moment spent hunkered down behind a sandbag, trading shots with the enemy.” Goldstone uncrossed his arms and tossed the flashlight back in the toolbox. “If you lived those island moments every day for the rest of your life, they wouldn’t be so precious.”

  Bear didn’t have a retort. He knew Goldstone was right. He also knew that he’d be bored out of his mind if he retired early. That was probably why Goldstone had stayed on as a consultant in D.C. He wasn’t in on the action anymore, but he wasn’t completely out of it either.

  “How did you make it this far?” Bear hated the desperation in his voice, like he needed the answer to this question to get through the next few days. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You’ve served longer than anyone else I know. How did you get through all that?”

  Goldstone didn’t hesitate. “It was mostly luck and skill.”

  “Mostly?”

  “And I came to an important realization.” Goldstone paused, making sure he had Bear’s undivided attention. “Most people come back from war and claim they saw the worst of humanity. I never felt that way. I always felt like I saw the best of it.”

  Bear didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  “A lot of terrible things happen in the world. Every day, there seems to be something new. We tend to focus on the negative, on the tragedy. I’m not sure why. Maybe it confirms what we already think we know—that humans are terrible creatures, hellbent on death and destruction.”

  Goldstone turned around and slammed the Silverado’s hood shut. He closed up the toolbox and took one last look at the truck before turning back to Bear.

  “It’s a lot harder to believe in people. To have that kind of trust in another human being means you have to be vulnerable, and nobody likes doing that.” He chuckled. “But we have to. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

  Bear finally found his voice. “Are you telling me to trust the girl?”

  Goldstone clapped a hand on Bear’s shoulder. “And Jack. And me. And yourself.”

  “You don’t think I trust myself?”

  “Few people do. From the second you walked back into my life, I saw how much you were battling yourself. I said it once, and I’ll say it again, that kind of hesitation will get you killed. Either commit or don’t. Only you can decide.”

  Bear couldn’t argue with that. So, he didn’t.

  “Anyway,” Goldstone said, removing his hand from Bear’s shoulder. “The truck is yours. Whatever you do, just be smart about it. And try not to wreck her? She’s only been in the outside world a couple times. Be gentle.”

  23

  Goldstone had given Bear instructions to head to New Glarus, Wisconsin. It was a small town about two hours south, near the Illinois border. Even when Cara’s letters were eventually traced back to there, it wouldn’t indicate where they had been or which direction they had been heading in. From Chicago to New Glarus, they could have been going anywhere.

  The Silverado ran smoothly. Bear was glad to be in something bigger and newer than the Camry. Out here in farm country, they’d blend right in. If they ended up heading to New York or D.C., on the other hand, they’d have a hard time disappearing into the crowd.

  For her part, Cara remained quiet on the road to New Glarus. She sat with a stack of papers in her lap, reading and re-reading what she’d written. Occasionally, she’d cross off a word and scribble in a new one. She cursed every time they hit a bump and her pen made a mark across the page.

  Bear didn’t interrupt her thoughts until they were nearly at their destination. He cleared his throat and waited for her to look up. Her eyes were bleary with the strain of staring at her writing for so long.

  Bear cracked a smile. “You trying to win a Pulitzer over there?”

  “It has to be perfect.” She was deadly serious. “No misinformation. No mistakes. I have to make sure it’s good enough to publish.”

  Bear nodded. A lot was riding on this. It was meant to be the first step in clearing their names. It was meant to push Hughes and his men into doing something stupid. And it was meant to tell the general public that there was a lot more going on here than they realized.

  “Do you want to read it to me?” he asked.

  Cara blinked. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  Bear just shrugged his shoulders. If he was being honest, he needed to know what she had written down. She was right—one wrong word could spell disaster for either one of them. They needed to be more careful than ever from here on out. No slip-ups. No distractions.

  Cara shifted in her seat. She sat a little taller. Then she began reading. Her voice took on a different tone, a different cadence. This wasn’t just Cara Bishop. It was Cara Bishop, the reporter. Her words were even, and Bear could tell she had chosen each one with purpose.

  She didn’t name names, but she spoke of a government conspiracy that aimed to promote green technology while using it as a front to create a new kind of weapon, all with the aim of disrupting foreign societies with the hopes of controlling them.

  But Cara didn’t linger on that. Instead, she focused on the meeting with Mateo, the one she wasn’t even meant to be at. She described her fear and anguish over hearing him murdered, and her subsequent confusion when it was ultimately pinned on her.

  Cara had a way of writing that pulled at the heartstrings. She used facts and turned them into emotion. Bear had been with her for nearly the entire journey, and yet this was the first time he had really seen the events from her perspective.

  When she finished, silence hung in the air.

  “I liked it,” Bear said. The words seemed simple, almost grotesque compared to hers. “But you forgot one important detail.”

  Cara looked back down at the paper, searching for where she could’ve missed something. “What?”

  “You never mentioned the knight in shining armor who saved you.”

  Cara looked over at him and rolled her eyes. “I thought it was best to leave you out. You’re already in enough trouble as it is.”

  “I appreciate it. Doesn’t matter now anyway.” Bear pointed at the approaching sign in front of them. “We’re here.”

  Cara leaned forward to get a better look at New Glarus, but there wasn’t much to see. The sign welcoming them to the town stated the population was just over two thousand. The idea was that few people would be paying attention to big city Chicago news, at least compared to somewhere like Madison or Milwaukee.

  But Bear knew better than most that even small towns could bring big trouble.

  He drove through town once just to get the lay of the land. It was pretty simple, with most everything clustered in the downtown area. He decided to park at the other end of town on a side road that looked like it didn’t get much traffic. No one would bother the truck, and he could control who did and did not see him get back into it.

  The hardest part would be convincing Cara to stay behind.

  “No,” she said, as soon as he told her his plan. “No way. I’m going with you.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can. And I will. This is my story.”

  Bear shifted in his seat to look at her directly. “I know this is important to you. I know how much this means to you. But you have to trust me. If we both go out there together, our chances of being recognized double, at the very least. We can’t risk it.”

  “So, I’ll go alone.”

  Bear smiled. “That’s dangerous.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I don’t doubt that. But I’ve gotta take this one for the team. If I’m spotted, I’ll be able to slip away or take out anyone who gets bold. It’s not about what you can’t do.”

  Cara tipped her head back and sighed. “And you’ll come right back?”

  “I promise.” Bear unbuckled his seat belt and held out his hand for the papers. “I’ll be walking directly to the post office and then directly back.”

  Cara handed over the papers without even looking at him. “Fine.”

  “Tip your seat back until it’s flat. Close your eyes and try to get a couple minutes in. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

  Cara didn’t respond. Instead, she let her hand drop to the side of the seat and started lowering the back until it was parallel with the floor of the truck. No one would be able to see her unless they walked right up to the window and looked in.

  “I’m leaving you with the keys,” Bear said. “In case you need to get out of here.”

  That snapped her back to attention. She sat bolt upright. “What? No. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “If someone sees you, drive south to the next town. I’ll meet you there.” When Cara opened her mouth to argue some more, Bear held up a hand. “That’s the plan. Stick to it. Lock the doors when I’m out. Don’t open up for anyone else, even if they say they know me.”

  Cara crossed her arms over her chest, which Bear took as a sign of her reluctant acceptance. He patted her on the shoulder and jumped out of the truck. When he shut the door, he waited until she locked up before he started his trek into town.

  The temperature had dropped another ten degrees since yesterday. Bear was grateful Goldstone had given him a winter jacket to wear. It barely stretched across his broad shoulders, but it was enough to keep him warm, even if he couldn’t zip it up.

  Bear threw a look over his shoulder and noticed Cara still watching him walk away. When he caught her eyes, she dropped down and out of sight. Bear breathed a sigh of relief. If he was quick, they likely wouldn’t run into any trouble. Then he could hop back on the road and figure out their next destination.