She slowed. “Why there?”
“I will show you.”
They’d been driving long enough that the scenery was finally a bit different than the usual endless expanse of shamrock green. Now it was drier, with more hills, and a few exposed rock faces dotted with trees. There was still a lot of tall prairie grass, but the combination of trees and hills meant there were a lot of places to hide. Misha had pointed to a small hill next to the tracks, which was also close to the highway.
The prominent point was about fifty feet high and covered in saplings and high weeds almost to the top. When they got to the base of the hill, Misha directed her to park near a clump of trees and underbrush. He jumped out and started up without waiting for them.
“I guess we’re going up,” she remarked to Asher, who remained with her in the front seat.
“Or we could drive away,” he joked.
She thought about it, but was resigned that they didn’t have much choice. If they ditched him, there was no telling how he’d react. He might end up working with Nerio to attack the train anyway. It was better to have him on their side.
“Let’s see what his plan is.” She got out and followed the tall assassin.
They climbed to the summit of the rise. It appeared as if they were looking out at a postcard for Ireland, rather than Wyoming. The vibrant grass dressed up the gentle hills around them, and the two-lane highway and railroad tracks were the only two man-made objects in sight. Far out on the flat lands, the diesel engine chugged its way toward them.
“We have gotten in front of train, as I explained. From here, we watch to see if Nerio set up ambush.” He turned away from the train toward a more rugged section of hills behind them. “This spot would have given her an advantage to spot us coming for long way.”
“You expected to find her here?” Grace asked, gripping her rifle.
“Maybe,” he admitted. “I more expected her to fly away when she saw us arriving on road. But we did not flush her out.”
“Wait,” Asher interrupted.
She froze, as Asher was doing. It appeared like he was listening.
“Do you hear it?” Asher said, still straining to listen.
“A chopper,” Misha drawled.
As she concentrated, the wind brought in echoes of the thumping sounds of a helicopter’s rotors. In the context of where they were, she was positive it was Nerio.
“There!” Misha pointed far to the west. It was low to the ground, and almost at the edge of being audible, but she’d seen it appear for two or three seconds before it dipped below a distant hill.
“Was this a victory?” she asked, not sure if Misha had saved them.
The hitman remained stoic as he watched for the helicopter. “We must get back in truck. I will tell train what we saw.”
Misha pulled out the little radio he’d salvaged from his truck’s backpack. He’d given its partner to Robert the engineer, so they could communicate without needing the train to stop.
Grace pulled Asher away from Misha while he worked the radio. “Nothing about this feels right. I know the woman was trying to kill him and all, but Misha doesn’t act like he’s scared of walking into an attack and getting killed. He told us this could have been an ambush point after we were already here. Does that seem normal to you?”
Asher checked to make sure Misha couldn’t hear him. “I hate to say it, but you and I might be so far out of our element we might not recognize danger if it came up and bit us. This hill didn’t even register as a threat when I first saw it.”
It was even worse than she’d imagined. They were going into the hillier and rockier terrain of central Wyoming, much of which they saw from their perch. The woman in the helicopter could be waiting for them behind any of those outcroppings.
“We’re totally dependent on this guy to get us through, aren’t we?” she whispered.
Glasgow, MO
Ezra thought the men on the bridge were going to shoot at him, despite the presence of Officer Curtis and his flashing lights. He drove Susan’s Grace at idle speed, barely enough to make headway upriver. His thinking was that he wanted to give the policeman enough time to see the men and to be ready if they pulled out guns.
Two of the TKM guys hung over the edge and looked down. While he couldn’t see if they had weapons, he did recognize the handlebar mustache of one of them.
“It’s him,” Ezra whispered, while holding his rifle next to his seat. “From Bass Pro. It’s the guy who was pushing the cart of guns when we took them off his hands. He chased us over the highway…”
Butch and Haley held their weapons as well, though none of them pointed it up at the man, for fear of provoking a retaliatory strike.
“Are you sure? I thought we killed him along with his pals when we were by that smelly dumpster full of diapers.”
Ezra shuddered at the thought. There had been many TKM security guys in the gunfight, and he was fairly sure all of them were killed, but he couldn’t remember seeing the ’stache guy there. “I guess he’s the one who got away.”
The tall man casually waved and spoke down to them. “You people killed eight of my buddies. There will be a reckoning. You can’t hide under the cops’ skirts all the time.”
Ezra was sorely tempted to give him the finger or ignore him completely, but he didn’t want to risk pissing him off while the guy was in such a superior position. He flicked a curt salute toward the guy, then
