Page 84 of Panther's Magpie
“Apparently Garfield County had a massive outage. Not only was every security system down, but first responder lines as well.Cops, firefighters…everything couldn’t be dispatched. All calls were routed to neighboring counties,” Meek tells us.
“How the fuck does that even happen?” Eagle asks, shaking his head.
“My best guess is that it was intentional.”
“You think they have a man on the inside?” I ask.
Meek nods. “It would make sense. We do.”
He’s not wrong. We have two members on the local police force, three on the fire department, and one EMT.
“Fuck,” Eagle says as he leans back in his chair, shaking his head.
I eye Meek as he shifts in his chair. Something that’s not like him. Meek is always cool, calm, and collected. He doesn’t shift.
“What haven’t you told us?” I ask.
“The material they bought for the explosives. The receipt was tracking more than what we found,” he says, filling me with dread.
“Shit,” Eagle and I say in unison.
“So there are explosives unaccounted for out there?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Dude, this is seriously fucked. I’m fucking over it. I want to drive over there and take them all out,” Eagle says quietly.
“That’s not our style,” I remind him.
But it’s tempting. So fucking tempting.
“Well, maybe it should be,” he tells me.
Ignoring him, I look back at Meek. “Then what the hell do we do?”
“We wait. That’s all we can do until we know more. Hopefully Asher will get with us soon and we can actually formulate a plan,” Meek tells us.
I close my eyes and tip my head back, exhaustion hitting me full force. It’s crazy how fast shit can change in a matter of anhour or two. I woke up so happy, and then reality smacked me in the face.
“Do we lock everyone down and call them back to the clubhouse? Stick close to home?” Eagle asks.
I shake my head. “No, we can’t. We don’t want to create mass panic, and if we do, then who knows how they will react.”
“They are taunting us currently. Almost as if they are playing with their food,” Meek says.
Eagle’s eyebrows wing up. “Are you calling us their food right now? Seriously?”
“Yes, because we are,” Meek says with zero hesitation.
“And that’s a good thing?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes, actually. The longer they are focused on us, the less attention they are giving Aspen. Which means her chances of survival increase. The longer we let them play, the better off she will be,” Meek says matter-of-factly.
“Quiet,” I hiss as the waitress heads toward us with a tray full of food.
“Thank you,” we say as she sets our food down.
“You boys are welcome. Let me know if you need anything,” she says as she smacks her gum.
