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“Sorry, kid,” he smirked. “We need our chemists. One of the ranchers caught someone on their property last night, and this is what they had in the bag they were carrying.” He handed Doug the powder, and he opened the bag, taking a whiff. Erin was nearby, doing some work for the team as well.

“You don’t need one of the chemists,” said Doug. Erin nodded, then shook her head, confirming what Doug knew. “It’s hydrogen sulfide. It smells like rotten eggs, but livestock doesn’t care. If it was put on their food, grass, hay, anything like that, or even water, they’d ingest it.”

“Then someone was trying to kill the animals?” asked Gaspar.

“I can’t think of anything else,” said Doug. “The thing is, if the animals ate this, they wouldn’t be able to use them as food without poisoning anyone who ate it.”

“I don’t think they intended for them to be used as food,” said Nine, frowning at the other men. “Thanks, Doug.”

“No problem. Oh, by the way, Suzette and Riley brought us some formulations to look at, along with samples. It was definitely manure from a number of different animal types. The rest is a mix of chemicals, plants, and humans.”

“Human. What kind of human parts?” asked Gaspar.

“Mostly protein, collagen, and calcium, from what we can tell. We’re still looking at it, but it’s pretty clear.”

“Bone?” frowned Ghost.

“Bone. Ground up into a powder and mixed with brain and muscle,” said Doug, raising a brow.

“Jesus, what the hell is this?”

“The human brain and muscles offer high protein and high fat content. Both things that people could survive on, at least for a short period of time. The brain can be problematic, causing a deadly disease.”

“I’d like to not try any of it if you don’t mind,” frowned Ian.

“Me either, but there have been cases where people have eaten human bodies to survive. This is different because they’re definitely trying to mask what they’re using. Lots of companies are using collagen and protein powders as diet supplements, but they’re typically created from vegetable sources or created in a lab.

“This company definitely seems to be pushing the boundaries of everything we know. I’ve looked at all of this, and I have to say there is nothing about it that makes it appealing, or for that matter, cheap to reproduce. But then again, like anything else, they just need a few idiots to buy into it, and they’ll make millions.”

“This has been helpful, Doug. Thanks, brother.”

“My pleasure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Trak and Dex sat in their truck, researching the last known residence for Peg and Tonia Keogh. The brothers were listed as having three homes. One in Los Angeles. One in Montana, and one in New Orleans. The home in New Orleans was near Lake Ponchartrain.

The sisters were a different story. There was no permanent residence listed for either, but the last known use of their credit cards was for a bed and breakfast in Covington.

Between the two men, they’d tracked more criminals, animals, animal poachers, and other nefarious creatures than anyone alive. Trak, with his Diné heritage, prided himself in his tracking abilities. Having learned the skills of hunting as a boy with his grandfather, he’d honed those skills as a Delta operative.

What served him well wasn’t just his heritage but his patience. Known for waiting for the perfect moment, he’d become known as the Delta Devil.

Dex was different, yet the same. As a Navy SEAL, he’d tracked more terrorists and criminals than he cared to count. But after becoming disabled due to wounds sustained in service, he lost his way. Drinking, chasing and sleeping with women, and falling apart had become his new normal.

Then Dex made a life-altering decision. He took a huge chunk of his savings and bought a ticket to Africa, spending the next several weeks on safari. What he learned was that the game wardens and safari parks were fighting a battle. One that they couldn’t always identify. Coming upon a slaughtered rhino, Dex’s life changed irrevocably.

For the next several years, Dex used his deadly skills to hunt those who hunted the defenseless. When his path and the path of REAPER-Patriots crossed, it was fate. He fell in love with their oldest sister, Marie, and found a permanent home.

“That’s the B&B,” said Trak, pointing to the Victorian home.

“I’ll go in and see if they’re still there,” he said, stepping from the truck. A few moments later, Dex reappeared, shaking his head. “They checked out yesterday. No forwarding address.”

“Sir! Sir!” yelled a young woman running toward the truck. “Sorry, my Mama said I should give you this. It was a folder left in their room. It might be something you need.”

“Thank you,” said Dex.

“Yes, sir.” There was a little stab at his soul when she said ‘sir,’ but he knew the young woman meant nothing by it. Opening the folder, Trak smirked at him, nudging his friend’s shoulder.

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