Stephens held a hand to his lips and spoke softly into a radio receiver, updating their position back to Marks. He then shot a thumb up to Rogers. The point man waved a hand at the far-off lot and pumped his fist. The patrol rose back to their feet and moved forward. Avoiding the blacktop road, they kept to the high grass, walking directly to the far lot. A heavy tree line lay between them and their destination. Rogers moved them into the shade of the tall trees, to within a football field’s length of the vehicles. The point man circled his hand and they took cover near a tall, wide oak. Stephens used his binoculars to scout the lot, then to look back at the marina.
He identified a long navy blue Suburban with a boat trailer still attached. “Think you can start it?” he asked Rogers.
“It’s new; older would be easier, but I think I have the tools to hack the software and get it up and running,” Rogers answered.
“Okay, get it done. We’ll tag along and cover you,” Stephens said.
Rogers smirked and dropped his small pack, sorting through it until he found a small nylon case. He stuffed the smaller bag into the cargo pocket of his fatigue pants for quick access, and then slung the small pack over his shoulder. “Okay, let’s move then,” he said, stepping off quietly.
The big man ran ahead of the interlacing vehicles, clearing corners and blind spots as he traveled. Jacob stayed just behind him and back at an angle, the way he’d learned during his brief time with Masterson. He slowed when Rogers halted and dropped to his knees behind a black sedan. The point man raised his rifle and swept the area before moving back to a crouched stance and approached the Suburban. Rogers made a quick pass of the vehicle, looking under it and peering through all the windows. Jacob posted up on a vehicle beyond the Suburban and took up a good firing position where he could observe all approaches to the parking lot and provide cover.
He turned briefly when he detected the door pop behind him; he saw that Rogers had already gained entry and was under the console, connecting wires. Jacob put his attention back forward, searching and scanning for targets. He heard the vehicle crank then purr to life. Damn that was fast, he thought, surprised.
When Jacob looked back again, Stephens was signaling for him to return to the Suburban. He met Stephens at the back and helped him remove the boat trailer before they all rallied around the passenger's door of the vehicle. While Rogers sat in the driver's seat, Jacob stood with his back to the others, nervously watching the road that ran past the marina. Stephens made a quick inspection then ordered them aboard.
“How’d we do?” Stephens asked.
Rogers looked at the dash and adjusted the mirrors. “Over three-quarters tank of gas, and this sucker is fully unlocked.” Rogers held a small device that was still connected the vehicle’s onboard computer. He stretched the wires and placed the device that looked no larger than an iPod into the cup holder. Jacob saw a small, yellow, brick-shaped device plugged into the vehicle’s cigarette lighter resting on the dashboard. Rogers unplugged the yellow brick and wrapped up the cord before placing it back in his pack. He caught Jacob’s stare and grinned. Pointing to device in the cup holder, he explained. “This hacks the truck’s PCM module and this yellow box boosts twelve-volt power to the battery. Too easy.”
“Smart,” Jacob said, not fully comprehending how it was done but still impressed.
Stephens reported in with Marks over the radio, who then ordered the Suburban back. Rogers shifted into gear and guided them to the road, making the return trip to their spot in the marina. He backed in the truck near a low wall to shelter it then cut the engine. Rogers lifted the small iPod device and flipped through menus. “Battery took the charge pretty well.”
“Good, we’ll report in and maybe be on the road soon.”
The Suburban had two rear bench seats with a large cargo compartment in the far back; Jacob sat in the first backseat row. When movement from ahead caught his attention, he jolted forward and looked to the passenger window, trying to find its source. Far off in the trees, he spotted a small child. “Stephens,” Jacob whispered tapping the seat in front of him.
Stephens leaned back and turned his head, his expression changing when he saw the fear in Jacob’s eyes. “What is it?”
Jacob turned to the dark tinted passenger window and pointed. The child was now feet out of the tree line and walking toward them—a young girl in a bright pastel blue T-shirt. Two more figures exited the woods near her, then two more.
“Oh fuck!” Rogers said, securing the door locks and leaping into the back seat. He reached to the front and grabbed Stephens, dragging him back.
Crushed under the weight of the two scrambling men, Jacob said, “What are you doing?”
“Hiding, get down and shut up,” Rogers whispered as Stephens scrambled back into the second bench seat.
Stephens edged his feet in and leaned back before turning his head to Jacob. “Just relax; they can’t see through the tint.”
“Did they
