Page 98 of Twilight Tactics

Sully pulled out the radio, thankful it was still working. “About half a mile east of the clearing, following tracks toward the compound. We have evidence Elena Thompson was possibly taken against her will.”

“Copy that. We’re moving to your position. Hold until we arrive.”

Sully hesitated. Every minute they waited was another minute Elena was in danger. But rushing in without backup would be foolish.

“Acknowledged. We’ll hold position.” He put the radio on the clip. “We’re coming, Elena,” he whispered. “Hold on.”

Ten minutes later, shadows moved through the trees. Agent Martinez and his tactical team—six men and two women in full gear—materialized like ghosts in the darkness. Behind them came Donovan, two of his deputies, and officers from a neighboring town. They split into two teams, ready for orders.

“Sullivan.” Martinez nodded in greeting. “I think I’ve been fully briefed at this point, so no need to waste any more time. Let’s go.”

“We believe she’s been taken to the prepper compound,” Sully said. “Likely by her father or someone claiming to be him.”

“And this compound is connected to Bellini’s organization?” Martinez asked.

“Yes. Through LaVoy Hawthorne, Bellini’s cousin. He’s using the preppers as muscle and providing them with weapons and equipment in return.”

Martinez nodded. “Our intel suggests the compound is about a mile ahead. Approximately thirty structures, unknown number of occupants. They’ll have lookouts.”

“And possibly military-grade weapons,” Sully added. “They’ve been using signal jammers and had attack drones.”

“Yeah, that’s what we were told.” Martinez turned to his team. “Alpha team, you’re with me and Sullivan. We approach from the west. Bravo team, circle around to the north, find a position with eyes on the compound. No engagement unless authorized or in immediate danger.”

They all nodded, checking their weapons and comms, and Bravo team moved out.

“What about us?” Jim asked.

Martinez studied him. “You’ve been helpful, but this is now a federal operation. Local law enforcement is helping with backup, so I think we’re good on this end. I need you to return to the ranch and take the horses with you. We’ll get rides back with SWAT or the local LEOs.”

Jim looked to Sully, who nodded reluctantly. “He’s right. This is about to get dangerous.”

“More dangerous than drone attacks?” Jim asked with a wry look.

“Different kind of dangerous,” Sully said. “Please. Go back. Tell Maya and the others what’s happening. And keep an eye on Ollie, make sure she’s protected.” A team of agents would be guarding her, but extra eyes never hurt.

Jim nodded. “Good luck.” David and his men joined Jim and the ranch hands as they melted back into the darkness, heading toward the horses.

Martinez turned to Sully. “Ready?”

“Copy that.” Sully checked his weapon one last time. “Let’s go get her.” Sully stayed close to Martinez, his senses on high alert.

After twenty minutes of careful movement, Sully held up his hand. The team froze. Through the trees ahead, lights glowed—the prepper compound.

Martinez motioned two men forward to scout. They disappeared into the underbrush, silent as shadows. The rest of the team took defensive positions, waiting.

Sully’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting another text from Maya or the sheriff.

Instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen. A text message appeared.

We have Eleanor Higgins. Leave our land now or she dies.

20

Consciousness returned with a throbbing head and a dry mouth. Elena kept her eyes closed until the nausea passed. The familiar smell of musty hay hit her next. Then fear. She knew this place. Finally, she opened her eyes and panic clawed at her.

The punishment cells. There were six of them. Three on each side of the building with a walkway in between. They looked just like prison cells except the concrete floor was covered with hay. The back and sides were cinder block, the front, bars. They’d always reminded her of the jail cells pictured in old Andy Griffith reruns. The toilet and sink were on the back wall. She lay on the cot with the threadbare, thin mattress.

Her wrists burned, and she distracted herself from the terror zipping through her by lifting them to see angry red marks encircling each one. She pushed herself into a sitting position and the room spun. She closed her eyes once more and stilled while the moment passed. Another wave of nausea swept over her, so she continued to wait. It was probably due to whatever drug had been sprayed in her face. Ketamine most likely. They kept it on hand for the animals.