Page 79 of Silent Target

Mac’s gaze shifts to me. “You still don’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

“He doesn’t have to stop you himself.”

Fathom’s tablet begins chirping.

Satellite images appear across the screen.

Three federal convoys are converging on the mountain.

Mac gives a humorless laugh.

“They’re good.”

Rook steps closer to him. “How do you know what they’re doing?”

“Because I helped write the playbook.”

Silence settles across the trail.

“You helped Graves?” I ask.

“I helped design federal response procedures for domestic terrorist attacks.”

“And now he’s using them against Shadow Division.”

“He’ll declare this a compromised government communications facility. He’ll say Mac was being held here as part of a classified operation. Then he’ll accuse Shadow Division of attacking the station and stealing national-security files.”

“The drives,” I whisper.

Mac nods. “You aren’t carrying evidence anymore. According to Graves, you’re carrying stolen intelligence.”

“And every federal team approaching us believes they’re coming after terrorists,” Caleb says.

Mac looks down the mountain.

“Within thirty minutes, so will the rest of America.”

15

CALEB

The rockslide bought us forty-five seconds.

In combat, forty-five seconds can feel like an hour.

Or vanish in a heartbeat.

Rook’s team reaches the upper trail as the helicopters pull away from the dust cloud.

Mac sinks against a pine tree.

His breathing is ragged, but his eyes are still calculating every exit, weapon, and person around him.

I’ve known men who looked less alert after a full night’s sleep.

I don’t trust him.