“What the hell is going on?”

  “Remember, I was looking for someone?”

  “Right. I thought you were a PI.”

  “Something like that. Turns out, this person I was looking for was into something deep and in way over his head.”

  “Where’s this guy now?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “Dead. Look, we’re pressed for time. This is a clock-ticking scenario.”

  She gazed up at him and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “More or less.”

  She asked, “More more, or more less?”

  Widow paused a beat and said, “More less, I suppose, but listen. Long story short—there’s a little girl out there, and there are some bad guys armed to the teeth, and they’re gonna kill her.”

  “What? We gotta call this in!” she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

  He clamped his hand on it gently enough not to scare her, but hard enough to make a point. He said, “We can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Trust me. We can’t. That’s why I need your help.”

  She looked distrustful. She said, “I don’t know, Widow.”

  “Look, these people are connected. We can’t involve anyone. Not yet. After we get her, then you can call the cavalry.”

  “I don’t like this. I don’t feel right about it.”

  “Trust me,” he said again.

  The spy drone came swooping back around and buzzed over them. Leon watched it intensely.

  Widow said, “We’re not alone, anyway. They’re with us.”

  “Who? Who’s with us?”

  He pointed at the drone and said, “Them.”

  She looked at him sideways and asked, “Who the hell is them?”

  “The United States Air Force.”

  “Are you serious? What are you, some kind of big deal?”

  “No. I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

  Her sideways look intensified, and he said, “I used to be something. Never a big deal. I had a long career in the Navy. I got friends left in the military.”

  “Where’s this little girl?”

  “That’s why we got the drone. It’ll lead us there.”

  “What am I walking into? How many bad guys?”

  “That I don’t know for sure. At least eight.”

  “Great.”

  “Ever heard of the Jericho Militia?”

  She looked at him with disgust in her eyes. Widow watched them narrow, and she said, “You mean the Jericho Men?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s a militia that operates along the border. Their territory is about a hundred miles long.”

  “That could be them.”

  “It is. They’re not a normal militia group. These guys are hardcore. They have firepower, and they’re very, very racist. They think they’re fighting for a cause, but their cause is white supremacy. We don’t mess with them without at least four convoys with agents armed and strapped with Kevlar.”

  “Well, the good news is you’ll probably get to kill some today.”

  “I’m not killing anyone.”

  Widow asked, “Have you ever fired your service weapon? In the line?”

  “Of course.”

  “Ever shoot anyone?”

  “No. Only warning shots.”

  Widow paused for a moment and then asked, “Can you shoot?”

  “Of course!”

  “I’d suggest that you let me do the wetwork.”

  “Wetwork?”

  “Dirty work. I need you for backup.”

  She nodded and said, “They told me to do whatever you need. I guess I’m obligated now.”

  “Let’s go. I’m going to ride with you.”

  “I’d guess so. That old truck looks like it should be taken behind the barn and shot.”

  “I agree,” he said, and headed back to the truck to pick up his belongings.

  Leon got into the Tahoe. She pushed Jake back and forced him to return to the rear bench. She fired up the engine and waited.

  Widow reached into the cab of the truck. He shut off the engine and came out with several guns and slammed the door with his foot. He walked over to the Tahoe’s passenger door, opened it, and asked Leon to pop the release on the cargo door in the back, which she did.

  Widow walked around and stored the rifle, the shotgun, and the ammunition in the cargo area next to some of her gear. He also tossed in the M9 even though he didn’t plan to use it. But he didn’t want to leave it in an abandoned truck on the side of the highway.

  He slammed the door and returned to the cabin. He dumped himself down on the seat and said, “Follow the drone.”

  He adjusted the Glock, so it wasn’t poking him in the lower back.

  Leon whipped the Tahoe around and U-turned. She waited for the drone to circle again and then followed it down the dirt road.

  27

  The spy drone slowed its speed as much as it could and circled around several times to lead Widow and Leon to the Jericho Men’s compound. Every time it flew too far, it circled back for them, which must have been hard for the pilot. Widow was sure he wasn’t used to leading vehicles around. They drove for what felt like forever across a long stretch of literally nothing but low grass, most of which was brown and yellow.

  The sheriff’s phone rang. Widow dipped his hand down into his pocket and pulled it out. It was a blocked number. He answered it.

  “Widow. You’re coming up on the compound now. It’s about ten minutes ahead of you,” Cameron said.

  “I figured it was close. But Cameron, we got a problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “From here, the land looks completely flat in all directions. Can you send the drone up ahead and check it out? We need to find some cover, or they’ll see us coming.”

  Cameron said, “I can tell you just by Google Maps it’s definitely flat. But I’ll send the drone ahead. Just keep straight.”

  Widow hung up, looked at Leon.

  She said, “What are we going to do, Widow?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We gotta figure something out. If they got rifles and scopes, which I’m sure they do, they can just pick us off from a mile away.”

  Widow said, “How far can you crawl on your belly?”

  She gazed at him with a half question on her face and shrugged.

  “We might have to use the grass for cover and try to get to them.”

  “That’s insane. This land is pretty flat.”

  “I know. But I don’t see another way. Let’s see what Cameron says. Pull up over there and park,” Widow said, pointing to a patch of trees at the bottom of a slight hill.

  Leon slowed and pulled the steering wheel. The truck glided to a stop, and they got out. She left the engine on and the AC blasting for Jake. Leon walked around to the back of the truck and popped open the cargo door, reaching in and grabbing something Widow couldn’t see. She came back out with a box of dog treats.

  Leon walked around to Jake, who had jammed his head out like he knew the time. She fed him a treat shaped like a bone. She said, “I don’t know what your reason is for not letting me call in reinforcements, but I think it’s a mistake. I’ve worked with the Border Patrol for years. These are good guys.”

  “I’m sure they are. I’m not questioning that. I’ve got a good reason.”

  “You gonna tell me? I mean, I’m here and about to risk my life.”

  Widow thought for a moment and then looked up at the sky for the drone. No sign of it. He looked at her, and he explained everything—Claire Hood, James, Jemma, Lucy, and the kill team. He told her about James’s death and how he got the sheriff’s truck.

  She stared at him, mouth not wide open but closed. She said, “Whew! You just admitted to committing about a dozen felonies.”

  “After, you can arrest me.”

  She shook her head and said, “No need for that. I get it.”

  He said, “I guess there’s no use in asking you for a date?”

  She shot him another stare, tilted her sunglasses down so that he could see her eyes. They were nice eyes. She smiled and said, “I didn’t say that.”

  He smiled back.

  “But aren’t you a homeless man?”

  “Only technically. Don’t they say that home is where the heart is?”

  “Where’s your heart?”

  “Right here,” he said, and pointed at his chest.

  “I have no doubt. You’re risking your life to save a little girl and trying to protect her citizenship as well.”

  Widow’s phone crackled with a weak ring like it was running out of battery, or there was a terrible signal out here. He pulled it out and answered.

  “I’ve got good news and bad news,” Cameron said. Her voice sounded a little hoarse. She had probably been yelling at other people while they were off the phone. Cameron wasn’t known for being a warm person. She had a reputation for being coldhearted. Widow had heard rumors about her before. He normally ignored them, but one nickname that stuck in his mind was Ice Queen. Some people used that to refer to her in code so they wouldn’t get in trouble.

  Cameron was a smart person, one of the smartest that Widow had ever known. She knew about her reputation. She even embraced it sometimes.

  After having known each other for years, he had taken to calling her “Your Highness” occasionally and playfully. Because Widow had placed his life in her hands so many times, they were about as close to friends as anyone could be in a work relationship.

  He didn’t call her Your Highness this time, because she seemed too irritated to mess with. But he had been tempted.

  Instead, he said, “Bad first.”

  “I’ve got photographs. The compound isn’t complicated. It’s a basic structure. Wood. A single-story house, but almost a shack. I saw a porch and a front door. There are no dogs visible. I told them to fly over so we could look at all angles. The windows aren’t covered, and I saw pretty clearly into the house. We counted ten guys. That’s the bad news. They’re armed to the teeth. They’ve got a variety of rifles. I can’t tell models. I don’t see any snipers.”

  “Positions?”

  “Four are out front, three walking the perimeter, and one on the porch. Two are inside somewhere.”

  “Did you see a little girl?”

  “No. Sorry,” Cameron said, and paused a long, long beat.

  Widow stayed quiet, ground his teeth, then said, “She’s gotta be there. What else?”

  “Good news is that—remember I told you how they’re buying up all of this heavy equipment?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Apparently, they’ve been storing a lot of it around their compound.”

  Widow said, “You mean we’ve got some cover?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Listen, I’ve got to send the drone back. I can’t keep it there. If it records you shooting people, then this looks like an off-the-books op, and I can’t cover that up—not through the Air Force. It’s already involved, three outside people. One officer, the pilot, and his copilot.”

  Widow asked, “They’ve got copilots?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “Tell them thanks. We got it from here.”

  “I’ll dismiss them.”

  “Wait, I need one more thing.”

  Cameron asked what he needed, and Widow looked over at Leon. He told Cameron to hang on, and he walked away. Widow asked her for another favor out of earshot of Leon. He didn’t want her to know.

  Leon stayed leaning with Jake and let him lick her hand.

  After another minute of talking, she saw Widow hang up the phone and return to her.

  Leon asked, “What was that last part about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Secrets?”

  Widow shrugged.

  “Are we ready?”

  “Let’s go get her.”

  Blue skies covered the earth as far as the eye could see. The heat was still there but dialed down from the day before. Widow figured it was partly a drop in temperature and partly the winds picking up and blowing across the rolling plains.

  Yellowish, reedy grass blades gusted in a southern direction in huge, natural swooshes like rocking waves, which was not an advantage for Widow and Leon. The grass moving in one direction while they marched in another made it easy to spot them. If someone was looking, but nobody was.

  They left the Border Patrol Tahoe out of the line of sight about a mile back, and walked in. They took with them the Winchester, the shotgun, the Glock, and Leon’s service weapon. Widow tried to convince her to take the M9 instead. But she didn’t like his reasoning. He had told her that her weapon was traceable back to her. He thought it better not to use an official weapon, one issued by the United States Border Patrol. In the end, he didn’t press her too hard because the M9 was the personal weapon of a deputy, which meant it would’ve only required one or two more steps to trace it back to him and thus to her.

  Leon didn’t put out the vibe that she was on board with the whole idea of killing these guys, but Widow knew that when it came down to her life or theirs, she’d pull the trigger.

  They stopped at a patch of young, leafless trees and surveyed their approach.

  Widow smiled. He had been pretty happy with what he’d seen for about the last half mile. Cameron had told him they were storing heavy equipment here. She wasn’t kidding. The place looked like a graveyard of ancient dinosaurs. There were excavators, huge Caterpillars, and bulldozers. Monstrous machines—Widow didn’t even know what they were all called—lined the property.

  Jake was down low by Leon’s side. He was a well-trained police dog. She had strapped him up with a tactical harness. He had extra ammunition for her weapon and the extra five rounds for Widow’s Model 94.

  The Winchester had a twenty-inch barrel and could hold six rounds. It was fully loaded, giving Widow a grand total of eleven rounds. Plus, the three Magnum shells for the shotgun. And a full magazine for the Sig Sauer. He had plenty of bullets, as long as he made them all count.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “I can’t see the house, but it’s gotta be in there somewhere. I’d guess it’s in the middle. They got these machines stacked around it like a maze.”

  “Equipment. Not machines.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Sorry, my dad was in construction. I’ve seen a lot of this stuff before.”

  Widow said, “We can use the equipment to hide as long as possible. I don’t suppose you got a silencer for that gun?”

  She shook her head and said, “That’s highly illegal.”

  “I figured. Just asking.”

  “I got a Ka-Bar.”

  “Let me have it.”

  She reached into a pocket on Jake’s harness and came out with a tactical Ka-Bar blade, about five inches. She handed it to Widow.

  “This’ll work.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to take out as many as I can.”

  “What do I do?”

  Widow said, “You should stay back and come in behind me when the shooting starts.”

  “I’m not staying behind.”

  “You should wait. I’ve done this before.”

  “No way. I’m a girl, but I’m good with my weapon.”

  Widow said, “Okay. Your choice. Stay at seven o’clock.”

  She looked at him sideways.

  “Stay behind me. To my left. Don’t shoot until it’s time. But don’t wait for them to shoot at you. Got it?”

  “I got it.”

  “What about Jake?”

  “What about him?”

  “Will he stay quiet?”

  “He understands,” she said.

  “Let’s go. We’re gonna stay close to the equipment. Give me about ten feet of distance.”

  Widow gave her the shotgun. He said, “Use this first. It’s loaded with Magnums. Three of them. It’s gonna kick, but it’ll blow away anything in your way.”

  “Got it.”

  Widow stayed low in a crouch and ran over to the edge of a big green excavator. He peered around the side and saw no one, only a trail of heavy equipment parked in no particular order or organization. He followed a zigzag path, taking a careful track, but walking fast.

  They had plenty of cover, which was good, but as soon as the first shot was fired, everyone would know. The sound would echo on and on.

  He looked up at the sky and wished he still had that drone. They could’ve used it as a distraction. They could've had the thing buzz over the compound for ten minutes. That would get everyone’s attention. But he didn’t have the drone. It was gone.

  Widow hugged close to a huge black tire. It was enormous, bigger than any that he’d ever seen in his life. He had been close to tanks, but they didn’t have tires. They had tracks. The only tires comparable to this were the ones on military cargo planes, which were big, but not like this. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, but he guessed it was some kind of crane.

  He leaned over and peered around the side.

  Cameron had said there were four armed guys patrolling the perimeter. The good news was that Widow doubted there was any kind of pattern or professional training in these guys. They’d be scattered around. Maybe even out of earshot.

  He saw one.

  A lone guy, the obese one from the night before, was standing and facing the other direction. His AR-15 hung from a strap over his back. The guy was taking a leak about thirty yards away.

  Widow had the Ka-Bar low in his right hand and the Model 94 in his left. He held the Model 94 with his hand down around the barrel and trigger housing. Widow glanced back at Leon and put out his hand as a signal to stop. He checked left. Checked right. Saw no one else.

  He stayed low in a crouch and moved within five yards of the fat guy. He set the rifle down on the ground and launched himself to his feet. The Ka-Bar was tight in his right hand. He clamped his left hand around the guy’s mouth and shoved the blade right into the base of his neck at the front, right above the collar bone—a nasty attack. Overkill, really. But Widow had no mercy for these guys. As far as he was concerned, they were all dead already.