Page 50 of Dan

“What does that mean?” asked Ryan.

“Hard to explain,” said Nine. “Just let him do his thing. We know him and what he’s capable of. He may just be looking for something he can’t touch any longer. Something he can’t feel any longer.”

“From what we can tell, there is a large structure built on the side of the mountain where you all found Sniff and the others. There is a concrete structure around it. We either blow the concrete or aerial in,” said Wilson.

“No.” Trak walked back toward the men. “No. We can get in just like before. From the opposite side of the mountain.”

“Trak, brother, we don’t know how that landscape has changed. The paths could be gone. The mountain may be overgrown. We have no clue,” said Gaspar. Trak only stared at the other men. Dan chuckled, shaking his head.

“You know what? I’m with him. Wherever you lead me, I’ll follow, Uncle Trak.”

“Smart man,” smirked Wilson.

“Let’s go,” said Ryan. “Tanner? Get the drones up and make sure they’re watching every move they make. Whatever you have to do, don’t let them leave that complex.”

“On it. Go get ‘em.”

“Why is Arthur not answering my calls?” asked Yancy, pacing back and forth in the open space. For years, they’d worked on this old structure, making it useful again for research, business, torture, anything really. Now, they’d taken the largest building and made it livable. The open concrete space had an intentional industrial feel to it, with skylights and modern furniture and artwork. Artwork that should be in museums, not an old research lab for someone’s sick machinations.

“I’m not sure, darling. Maybe he’s finally kicked the bucket,” smirked Zachary. “I’ve been trying to reach MQAE, and no one is answering. Just like them to all take off when we’re not there.”

“Well, it’s our usual practice, in fairness. I hate heating or cooling a place unless we’re there. What I want to know is what they’ve actually found on the dead bodies of those men. With any luck, one of them was Finley’s alleged fiancé. We can only hope. Bastards. I want them all dead for what they did to Daddy.”

“I know, honey. Uncle was a wonderful man. After all,” he said, squeezing her from behind, “he brought us together. Making our amazing minds become one.” She turned in his arms, her sloppy, tongue kiss all over his mouth. They both liked it rough and dirty. It was their thing, but only with one another. They didn’t enjoy having others interfere in their playtime.

“When will they get here?” she asked.

“They should be here around seven,” he said, looking at the clock. “Just enough time for us to enjoy dinner. I really don’t want to get blood on the concrete. It stains so. Maybe we take them to one of the other buildings and kill them there.”

“Those buildings haven’t been opened in years other than to clean them out and store things, but we can definitely get into them. Once we’ve disposed of our little problem, we go after the big one. I want all of those men dead for what they’ve done. Then Finley is going to pay. She’s going to experience pain unlike anything she’s ever dreamed of.”

“I know, darling. Our traitorous daughter will pay. She’s ruined any chance we have of getting the codes on the dams, so the flooding theory is out. We can’t get G.R.I.P. to work with us on the guidance and missile systems. I mean, can you believe they said our product was inferior?”

“It’s just astounding,” she said, taking her seat at the table as he placed the plated meal before her. “It looks wonderful, Zach. You always knew how to take care of me.” He laughed, nodding his head.

“I remember taking care of you in that old treehouse on Whidbey. Arthur nearly shit his pants walking in on us.”

“Well, we were only twelve and thirteen,” she grinned. “I suppose that was a bit young, but father liked leaving us those highly instructive notes. It’s too bad your father didn’t have the same genius.”

“Father,” he scoffed. “He was nothing to me! Uncle was the man I admired more than anything. Father was the one who ruined Finley. He put those crazy ideas in her head and made her think ridiculous thoughts. I’m glad we were able to get him out of the way.”

“Hmm,” she nodded. “You know, I wonder what would happen if we dissected Finley’s brain? Do you think we’d find something unusual?” He smiled at his wife, reaching across the table to take her hand.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Trak handled all the requests with the reservation, calling ahead to meet with the elders or at least the nation chief. Passing the sign telling them that they were now on Diné land, he could only shake his head.

It was a serious contrast from their last visit to what it looked like now. Everyone was much more open and willing to welcome their guests. But they were most excited to welcome home one of their own. A hero.

A hero whose likeness stood in bronze in the center of the visitor’s station.

Trak stared at the sculpture of a warrior in running form. He had a knife in his hand, more specifically a Bowie knife. The fine cuts and definitions of his muscular arms almost too realistic. On his feet were running shoes, his legs in loose trousers, and a tight t-shirt clinging to his body. His long hair seemed suspended in the wind around his face and head, the lower half shaved.

The warrior’s face was down, blurred by the hair, as if intentionally. His image lost to anyone who didn’t know.

“Welcome home,” said an old woman, walking toward them. Trak only stared at her, shaking his head. “You never returned, but we never forgot you, Joseph Redhawk, nor did we forget your grandfather.”

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