Page 91 of Battle Mountain

“Tell me about the people who were here,” he said to Eisele.

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Fifteen miles away,on the southern slope of Battle Mountain, Nate and Geronimo filled day packs with ammunition, water bottles, and other gear. They’d found a trailhead off the Forest Service road and parked the Suburban. Rick Orr had followed them from Warm Springs in his rental SUV and now stood with his back to them at the edge of the clearing, talking on his cell phone. As he spoke, he waved his free hand wildly and with emphasis.

“Who’s he talking to?” Geronimo asked Nate.

“Probably D.C.,” Nate said. “He’s probably calling in an air strike on us.”

“Very funny,” Geronimo said.

“Let’s release the birds.”

Geronimo’s expression turned suddenly serious. He no doubt knew what Nate was thinking. If the two of them didn’t make it back, they didn’t want the falcons to slowly starve to death inside the Suburban. It was better to release them and hope, if all went well, that they’d return to their falconers. Or just fly away forever.

Nate donned a heavy leather glove and lifted the peregrine and prairie falcon out of the vehicle and removed their hoods. Geronimo did the same with the gyrfalcon. All three birds were magnificently still, but Nate could feel the peregrine grip his hand with coiled-up anticipation. Then Nate held up each bird and released the leather jesses attached to their ankles.

The peregrine launched and dropped a foot until its wings caught air. Then it shot across the meadow, gaining elevation until it topped the pine trees and didn’t look back. The prairie falcon did the same. The gyrfalcon needed more runway because it was larger, but it also climbed until it did a banked turn before a wall of trees, and it soared to the west.

“I kind of wish I could go with them,” Geronimo said.

“Ialwaysdo,” Nate responded.

Orr watched the falcons fly away as he walked back to the vehicles, but he didn’t comment on them. He looked very agitated, Nate thought.

“Cell service really sucks out here,” he groused. “I could barely get one bar.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Geronimo said. Then: “Did you call in the Marines?”

Orr stopped in front of them, briefly closed his eyes, and sighed. “Not even close,” he said. “It’s a typical bureaucratic clusterfuck. I told HQ what you told me, and I got put up the chain all the way to the assistant director. He said he couldn’t take action without the approval of the big guy, who justhappensto be out of town today and can’t be reached.”

“That’s fine,” Nate said. “We’ll do this without them, like we planned to do in the first place.”

“It isn’t just that,” Orr said, his eyes widening. “Do you want to know where the director is right now?”

“Where is he?” Geronimo asked.

Orr lifted his arm and pointed south. Nate noticed that his hand and pointer finger were trembling.

“He’s at the B-Lazy-U?” Nate said.

Orr said, “Apparently, he arrived in Warm Springs on his jet a couple of days ago.”

Nate grinned wryly. “The director of the FBI has his own private jet? And he’s hanging out with the Centurions? Well, my, my.”

Orr then told Nate and Geronimo that he wouldn’t be accompanying them any farther. He pointed at his lace-up dress shoes and said, “I’m not equipped for where you’re going, and I’d only hold you back. I’ll stay here and get back in touch with the assistant director. I’ll do everything I can to help you guys take down Soledad, even if that includes reaching out to other agencieswho might have people on the ground near here to respond.” Then: “How confident are you that they’ll try to hit the ranch tonight?”

Nate shrugged. “We’re flying blind at this point. All we know is Soledad is in the area, and the Centurions plan to break up and go home tomorrow or the next day after their big shindig. So if Soledad is going to hit them, it would need to be now.”

Orr’s face blanched once again. He said, “Why does this all have to happen in the middle of nowhere? Why can’t it happen someplace where we have agents, local law enforcement, and firepower available?”

“You just answered your own question,” Nate said while turning on his heel toward the forest wall to the north of the clearing.

A few minutes later, Geronimo looked up while they walked and said, “Damn.”

“What?”

“Your peregrine is tracking us. It came back.”

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