Page 39 of Master of Lies

I spotted the big rock that marked the spot on the bridge where I had buried the spike strip under some pine needles, wondering if the snow would render the teeth ineffective. It was fine, dry powder, and there wasn’t that much of it right here under the huge trees. Last night’s wind had swept away still more. The SUVs were big and heavy, packed full of men and guns, and my spike strip was a motherfucker. Long, sharp blades to bite into those scumbags’ tires, deep and hard.

I could only hope that the setup would still work, months later. Snow and all.

I heard the second SUV approaching now. The big motor growled as it rounded the bend. I shucked the rifle, hid it under a log, and dove for the huge culvert that ran beneath the bridge. It was choked with brush, but I shoved my way in, and found the wiring I’d bolted to the top of the culvert.

The grenade was in my hand already. I had to time this perfectly. I leaned out, waiting for the motor to get closer…still closer…

Now.I hit the button. The spike strip activated.Thunk.

The big vehicle slewed, revving its engine, and juddered to a halt. I heard men talking from inside it. Angry voices, shouting. Scolding, accusations.

Wait. Wait. I slid silently out of the culvert, staying doubled over, waiting for the sound of a door opening. Any second now.Come on, guys.

Clunk.The vehicle door opened, and the volume of the voices inside went up. “…the fuck happened to the tires, man? What the fuck did you do?”

“Nothing, asshole. Shut your fucking hole and let me see what’s going on.”

Now.I pulled the pin, leaped up, lobbed the grenade right into the open car door. Sank back down and dove right into the culvert again, wondering if I was too close to survive the blast. I heard screams of panic, all four car doors bursting open. I blocked my ears and braced myself.

Boom.The force of the blast shook the woods, jolting snow off the tree boughs.

I waited a few seconds, then scrambled out of the culvert. Heard the crackle and roar of flames. The doors, still open. Limp bodies, lying half in, half out. A balloon of smoke, bitter and greasy and black.

Four down. Good. But whoever was in the first vehicle was now closer to Sandee than I was, and that was unacceptable.

I sprinted back up the hill, feet flying.

* * *

It wasthe closest thing to happy Nicole had been in a very long time, lurching and bouncing through the snow on the ATV. She was going dangerously fast through the snow-frosted trees, the wind in her hair, face half frozen. The ice-cold air burned the inside of her nose. She liked the way it felt.

It was a relief to get a break from that self-involved asshole. It wasn’t as if fucking Wex distressed her all that much. She had a strong stomach, and being indifferent to pain or discomfort had made it possible for her to keep him satisfied. It cost her little to give him what he craved. But it was tedious, and a poor use of her time and abilities. She got more bored and irritated with it every day that passed.

The upside was, soon she would peel off that asshole’s face, and he would finally learn exactly who he was dealing with. Cheerful thought.

The cabin across the canyon came into view. Nicole pulled the ATV to a halt and got off, leaving it hidden in the trees. She crept forward, staying low.

She’d studied the satellite maps of this place on the drive over here, memorizing every detail. Boer had wanted a sniper rifle across the narrow canyon for their ace in the hole. They were temporarily short-staffed after the Dew Drop debacle, and she was excellent with a long gun, so here she was.

She hoped she’d have the opportunity to shoot someone. She loved the little jerk they made. The pink mist that came out. Such a rush. She could use a pick-me-up.

Nicole made her way stealthily through the huge, tumbled rocks at the edge of the canyon. She found the perfect place quickly, with an excellent view of the exposed house on the other side, and big, tumbled boulders for cover.

She set up her rifle and hunkered down, situating the gun barrel between two craggy granite monoliths. In her winter-camo snowsuit, no one would ever see her. As soon as Jed Clearwater wandered out into her sights, she’d—

Boom.

The huge sound shook the canyon, startling the hell out of her. Nicole’s breath stopped. She grabbed the handheld and called Boer. “Wex? What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t know, but the other team’s not answering.” Boer sounded stressed and angry. “Sounds like he blew them up. I can’t wait to blast his fucking head off. Have you got a fix on him yet?”

“Not yet. I don’t see a soul over there. I just got here and got myself set up.”

“Well, hurry the fuck up. Use the thermal imager. Get back to me fast.”

“Of course, boss,” she murmured. She indulged in a pleasant little fantasy of driving the spike heel of one of her fuck-me shoes into Boer’s eye while she got out the thermal goggles, and scanned the hillside. Back and forth, with binoculars, with the thermal imager, then again…and again…and again.

She finally saw it, against the cliff face. Nothing big, just a subtle “what’s-wrong-with-this-picture” feeling. That plumb line against the granite cliff face, slowly coming into focus. Too straight to be natural. Not a dangling root. It was a rope, hanging down. She followed it up with the binoculars. Someone had knotted it around that big scrub oak tree trunk that was clinging to edge of the cliff. But why? The rope didn’t reach all the way down to the bottom of the gorge, so why hang it off the edge?

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