“Exactly how many comprises a bunch?” Dave Graham gruffly probed, having drawn near.
Pivoting, Christian identified his inquirer on the spot, recalling the awe-inspiring rescue in Cumberland months ago. “She didn’t say, but I estimate she deaded at least four where we were being held. She alluded to coming upon another camp last night prior to finding us. I imagine she got at least four more of them there.”
Dave forced an exhale through flaring nostrils, pointing to the agent on the ground. “And why is he here?”
“Her prisoner, you mean? She was adamant about bringing him here,” replied Christian. “She mentioned something about him killing one of his own and sparing her, but I never got the full story.” He circled back to the driver’s seat, regained the faux-leather folder, and handed it off to Dave Graham.
Dave only stared at him coarsely.
“Lauren told me to guard it with my life,” Christian said. “She said it’s evidence. I assume you of all people will know what best to do with it.”
Jade rose to holster her weapon, then bent at the knees to roll the agent over with Ken’s help, going abruptly aghast at seeing the man’s face. “What the? August?”
The agent blinked a few times. “Jade? What are you doing here?”
Christian craned his neck. “You two know each other?”
Jade backed away and looked the agent over as her mind went for a disturbing stroll down memory lane. Her close encounter with Beatrice Carter had been off the wall, but this was getting ridiculous.
“I believe we do,” August groaned with a sharp eye. “We go way back. Don’t we, SA Hensley?”
Jade didn’t respond to him or even bother looking his way. “Hey, Ken, do something for me. Get him out of here.”
“Okay, sure,” Ken said. “Where?”
“Just take him somewhere. Anywhere but here.”
Dave snapped his fingers, nabbing Will Sharp’s attention. “Private Sharp, give him a hand, please. Transport this…prisoner to the brig, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ken and Will then hoisted August to his feet and led him away.
“Back to Lauren,” Alan thundered. “Where precisely is she, Christian? And how could you have just left her there?”
“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you. Like always, she gave me no other choice,” Christian began. “I can tell you where to look for her, but there’s no guarantee she’ll be there. She’s planning something big and won’t stick around for long. On the way here, our agent friend told me about the arsenals of ordnance they keep in these trucks. This one’s already been cleaned out, and I estimate there to be at least three more of them. If Lauren combines all of it, she’ll have enough firepower and explosives to wage war.”
After relaying what August had divulged to him, Christian gave the group directions to where he had last seen Lauren, then went over the vehicle tracking system and how he had gone about disabling it before entering the valley. “If the other trackers are still pinging, reenabling this one should help get you close. I don’t know the specifics of what she’s proposing, but I doubt she’s waiting for them to come to her. I think she’s plotting to go there in a manner they’d least expect, as in driving right up their ass in one of their own vehicles. If I were in her position, it’s what I would do.”
He regarded Alan once more. “You have to believe me…I didn’t purposefully abandon her—I would never do that. I tried to get her to come home, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I’m sorry if I didn’t push hard enough or wait her out, but after she told me about Grace, I couldn’t bear to be away; I had to get back. Besides, it’s been my experience that once Lauren’s mind is made up, there’s no talking her out of it.”
“Sounds a lot like someone else we know,” Jade remarked.
Christian bid the group adieu and took his leave of them, heading off in a sprint along the driveway without looking back.
Alan stared hard at the DHS vehicle, barely able to stomach all he’d learned thus far today. He got inside and reached for the ignition keys, halting at the sound of an approaching ATV. A glance at the rearview mirror revealed his wife on the final leg of her return trip home from the Vincents’.
Michelle coasted to the edge of the driveway and skidded to a stop amidst the group, killing the engine. “I think I just passed Christian on the road—he wouldn’t stop, though. He wouldn’t say anything; he just waved me off.” She gestured to the black truck. “Where did this thing come from?” Then she saw her husband in the driver’s seat. “And where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Alan did his best to explain matters to her as rationally as he could, using every bit of reasoning he could muster. “I have to stop her, Michelle, and I need to go now. I’m sorry.”
Hopping down from her seat, she marched directly to her husband, a finger pointed at his nose. “Oh no, you won’t, either! Not for love or money, Alan Russell.”
