Page 2 of Covert Mission

“The Brotherhood is planning something big.”

The Brotherhood? Seth stiffened. “The militia? You’re sure?”

A nod. “The three guys I heard talking mentioned the group by name.”

“Details.”

“I couldn’t hear much and was too scared to move closer. They were talking low like they were afraid of being overheard, you know?”

“Go on.”

“Something about guns. A lot of them.”

“The Brotherhood is bringing in guns or selling them?”

Pico shrugged. “Like I said, I wasn’t close enough to hear all the details, but it didn’t sound like a gun sale.”

“What else?”

The other man looked around the deserted area of the trail as though scanning for danger. He inched closer. “One of them was a cop.”

Seth’s blood ran cold. “Did you recognize him?”

Pico shook his head. “I didn’t get a good look, okay? I just heard enough to know he was bragging about these guns disappearing from some warehouse, with no one knowing until it was too late.”

That wasn’t enough to point a finger at a cop. “I need more. I can’t nail a dirty cop with what you’ve given me, Pico.” He had to know at whom to point Internal Affairs.

“All I know is he didn’t seem worried about being discovered.”

“Any indication if the cop is local, county, or federal?”

Another head shake. “Sorry, Seth. That’s all I got.”

“No mention of when this event is going to take place?”

Pico swallowed hard. “I gotta go.” He backed away. “I don’t feel safe out here anymore.”

“Wait.”

“Something’s coming. Can’t you feel it?”

“Pico, come on, man. This isn’t enough for me to do anything with.”

“That’s your problem. I can’t help you more.” The other man spun on his heel and ran down the path, disappearing from Seth’s sight in seconds.

He dragged a hand down his face. What was he supposed to do with this information? Yeah, he could ask his other CIs if they’d heard about a big Brotherhood score, but if he asked the wrong people, he could alert the dirty cop that he was on to him and make himself a target.

A muffled shout sounded ahead on the path.

Seth sprinted down the path.

“No!” a man screamed.

Pico. Seth recognized his CI’s voice. He poured on more speed as he scanned ahead of him for trouble.

He reached another large curve and slowed long enough to free his weapon from his ankle holster. One hundred yards ahead, he spotted two men.

The first man had his back to Seth. Pico, the second man, was on his knees with his hands raised above his head. He was shaking, sweat beading on his face.

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