Page 33 of Avenging Jessie
Deployment.
Mass scale.
“Spence,” she whispered, “we’re out of time.”
The panel truck rumbled to life, red taillights flaring through the mist as the back doors slammed shut.
“We have to follow them,” she said, already shifting in her seat to check her weapon and slide her seatbelt on.
Spence didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on the warehouse, not the truck. Hastings was still standing on the dock, cutting a deal with whoever was on the phone while flipping through the papers. “If we lose eyes on Hastings, we may not get another shot.”
Jessie clenched her fists. “If Brewer’s about to launch something that could torch Berlin and half the diplomatic core, we can’t just sit here.”
“I’m not saying that. I’ll call for backup.”
Backup? They were off the grid, and the other swans were too far away. “We’ll lose them if we wait.”
The truck pulled out, headlights vanishing down the service road. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a war drum. Hastings retreated inside.
Flynn’s voice echoed in her mind.If I disappear, go off-grid.
Was he even still alive?
She turned to Spence and placed a hand on his arm—not hard, just enough to make him look at her. “The time to hide behind that screen is over.”
His jaw worked, and she knew what was going on in that massive tech brain of his. The warehouse. The truck. A thousand unknowns spinning in his head. Finally, he nodded once. Tight. Resolute. He handed her the tablet. “I’ve tapped into their GPS. Let’s move.”
Silently, she let out a relieved sigh.
They followed the panel truck at a cautious distance, their headlights off, their tires humming over the wet asphalt. Trees pressed in on either side, thick, looming silhouettes in the moonlight. Jessie gripped the edge of her seat, tracking the taillights as they dipped around a bend.
Spence eased their car around the curve and slowed. “Where the hell?—?”
Ahead, a narrow road jutted into the woods. No signage. No lights. No movement.
And no taillights. The panel truck was gone.
“Son of a bitch.” Spence clicked back to the last ping on the GPS tracker. “They blacked it out.”
“They knew you were tracking them?”
He shook his head. “Not possible.”
They crept forward, inch by inch, but the road was empty. Spence checked the dash display, tapped a few commands into the thermal sensors. Nothing.
Jessie stared at the hollow stretch of pavement ahead. No truck. No sounds. Just cold, wet silence.
She cursed under her breath. “We’re not the only ones playing spy games tonight.”
Her hand found the grip of her sidearm. Her pulse thumped in her ears, every nerve on edge. Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The enemy had disappeared like smoke, and Jessie had the sinking feeling they’d just walked into a trap.
A trap she’d expected all along.
Fourteen
