that she’d kept under wraps before.
“So this is where you live?” she asked, meaning the general area.
“Most of the time,” Nate said. “When I’m not living in a cave.”
“Do you realize how pathetic that just sounded?” she asked with a shy smile.
“Yes.”
“Maybe after this you won’t have to run anymore.”
Nate let that hang for a moment, then turned toward her. “There’s a difference between running and dropping out.”
“Sorry.”
He wasn’t sure how he wanted to play it, but the more he thought it through and ran different scenarios through his mind, he kept coming back to his original inclination. It had worked with the two operatives on the mountain in Colorado, on the highway outside of Jackson, and countless times over the years on special operations.
Nate said, “We’re going to go right at him.”
“Pardon?” she said.
“There are lots of ways to do this,” he said. “We could find a position and observe him-make sure he’s there and try to figure out how many guys he has with him, then make a plan. Strike at night, flank him, that sort of thing.”
She nodded.
“For all we know, though,” he said, “Nemecek has set up his usual electronic perimeter. He’s likely got sensors, cameras, and motion detectors at all the key points around his camp. He’ll know if someone is moving in on him, and he’s a master at dealing with those kinds of situations. Hell, he taught me. And in the worst-case scenario, he just drives away and we never get a crack at him. In that case, this could go on forever.”
Haley shook her head. “I can’t imagine trying to live a normal life and knowing he’s out there,” she said.
“Welcome to my world,” Nate said.
“So how are you going to confront him?” she asked. “We don’t know how many we’re up against or who they are.”
“We have an advantage, though,” Nate said. “We know how he thinks. He trained us. We know that anybody we encounter could be one of his. The only man in this valley I can absolutely trust just flew away on an airplane. Everyone else is a potential threat.”
The gravity of what he said seemed to make her withdraw from him as she considered the possibilities.
“But the longer we wait and plan, the longer he has to devise a countermove,” Nate said. “I’m thinking right now he’s confused. He doesn’t know we’re out here and he doesn’t know what exactly happened to the two operatives in Idaho. He thinks they’re coming to meet up with him-that’s what I made that guy back there tell him- but he’s been out of cell or radio contact with them since then. No doubt Nemecek is waiting to hear from them when they arrive, and he’s probably trying to raise them over the phone.”
“Will he be suspicious?” Haley asked.
“He’s always suspicious,” Nate said. “He’s probably even figured I got the upper hand on his boys somehow. But what he can’t know is that you’re with me. So when he sees you, he’ll be confused, at least momentarily.”
“I see,” Haley said. “I’m bait.”
Nate smiled a cruel smile. “You can still get out,” he said. “It isn’t too late.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said. “I just want to know what you’re thinking, so I can do my job right.”
He thought that over for a moment, then methodically laid out his plan of attack.
YARAK meant a condition of being hyperalert, he told her.
“Engage all your senses and push them out to their limits,” he said. “Don’t think- react. Don’t consider consequences or collateral damage. If you see me go down, don’t hesitate. If you hesitate, you’re dead.”
She shook her head, obviously doubting her ability to do it.
Then she asked, “And if I go down first?”
“I’ll miss the hell out of you,” Nate said. “But that’s after I’ve blown Nemecek’s head off.”
“God, you can be so romantic,” she said.
“Shut up, Haley,” he said sharply, shocking her. “ Concentrate. Remember what I just told you about being hyperalert until this is over.”
“Why are you yelling at me?”
He gritted his teeth, and said, “I’m trying to keep you alive. I’m trying to show you, but I don’t think you’re listening. For example, what do you know about our situation right now that is different than a few minutes ago?”
She started to say something flippant by her gesture, but stopped herself. Instead, she looked around the Tahoe and out through all the windows at the lodgepole pines that zipped by on both sides.
“What?” she asked. “We’re in a forest?”
“No,” he said. “We’re being followed.”
33
Joe cleared the tree line of the summit in his pickup to find a barren field of blinding white punctuated by sharp blades of volcanic black scree. The sharp shards pierced upward through the thick scrim of snow, which was untracked and polished to a high-gloss sheen by wind and high-altitude sun. As he emerged from the trees, his radio came to life with a screech of static, and he checked his phone to find two messages: Chuck Coon and Sheriff Kyle McLanahan. Each had called within the past twenty minutes.
He slowed for a moment and reached for the mic, but as he did so he could feel the tires begin to sink into the snow. Since he couldn’t tell how deep it was and couldn’t risk getting stuck on top fully exposed, he grabbed the wheel again and goosed the accelerator. The snow was deeper than he would have guessed, but he knew if he maintained his forward momentum across the top of it he had a chance of getting across it to a windswept bank of gravel on the horizon of the mountain. If he made it to the other side, he could return the calls and call in his position.
Although he couldn’t see clearly through the snow-covered windshield, he searched ahead for knobs of rock to steer toward so his tires could grab them and propel him forward. He saw a rock and cranked the wheel toward it, but the back end swung around again and his progress stopped cold. He cursed as the pickup settled in, sinking a few more inches, snow crunching and the exhaust pipe suddenly burbling as it descended into the snow, and he knew he was stuck fast almost exactly in the center of the snowfield.
Joe sat back and gritted his teeth. Just a few more feet and he might have been able to gain purchase and maintain momentum enough to get to the gravel. But there was no point now but to reassess. It would take hours of digging to try and find the solid rock bottom of the snowfield. And even if he did, the only way he could safely get out was to reverse in his own tracks and end up back where he came from. He knew from being stuck many times and helping others that he needed a winch-truck to get the pickup out.
He cursed and slammed the top of the wheel with the heel of his hand. Wind buffeted the driver’s-side window. Out ahead of him, on the snowfield, small waves of gritty snow moved along the surface like sidewinder snakes.
The view was magnificent. As far as he could see ahead were the snowcapped ridges of wave upon wave of mountains. Stringy cirrus clouds unfurled like battered flags through the brilliant blue sky. There wasn’t an airplane or a power pole or a cell tower to be seen anywhere.
He felt incredibly lonely and frustrated, and when he caught a sharp whiff of carbon monoxide through his heating vents he reached down and killed the motor. The exhaust pipe was now buried deep in the snow and leaking back through the undercarriage. If he kept the pickup running, he risked asphyxiation.
Joe briefly closed his eyes and calmed himself, then checked his phone. He had a weak signal.
He called Chuck Coon first, and the agent came on after the second ring.
