Page 135 of Specter Bred

He paused, his expression drifting somewhere far away before he pulled himself back.

"He disappeared."

His finger lingered on the photograph for another second before sliding it aside.

"For the last two years, he's stayed buried. No sightings. No reliable intelligence. Nothing."

He pulled a second photograph from the folder and laid it beside the first.

"Until recently."

The man in the new picture was small and wiry, with oversized ears, a pointed nose, two prominent buck teeth, a jutting chin, and a thin mustache. He looked more like a nervous bookkeeper than someone who trafficked in war.

"This is Mathias Claybourne." Graves tapped the photograph. "One of the largest independent arms dealers operating along the Helix border. Weapons. Ammunition. Explosives. Medical supplies. Radios. If Helix needs it, there's a good chance Claybourne supplied it."

He looked up at us as he reached for his clothes.

"Three weeks ago, one of my informants spotted Claybourne meeting with several Helix commanders."

His finger shifted to Voss's photograph.

"And Warren Voss."

Hayes frowned.

"So this little rat knows where Voss is?"

"If anyone outside Helix knows where Warren Voss is hiding..." He tapped Claybourne's photograph one last time. "My money's on Mathias Claybourne."

"What's that got to do with us, sir?" Hayes asked.

Graves unfolded the map another few inches and jabbed a finger at a cluster of small towns while tugging on his fatigues.

"Claybourne was born and raised right here."

His finger drifted a few miles south.

"His mother still lives a couple clicks from these woods. And he never stays away from her for long."

He cinched his belt with one practiced pull before pointing to the map again.

"Intelligence says his newest hideout and weapons cache is somewhere inside these abandoned mines. So that's where we are headed."

He looked over his shoulder, reaching for his shirt. He pulled it over his head and then stuffed the photographs back into the folder.

“If Mathias knows what’s best for him, he’ll tell us everything he knows and it’ll be a short conversation.”

Hayes considered that. “And if he doesn’t feel like talking?”

“Then we’ll give him a reason to.”

The answer came so casually that Hayes stared at him for a beat.

“Ahhh. You mean we'll interrogate him!”

“Shut up, Hayes,” I muttered.

Graves tightened the straps on his pack. “I’d listen to her, Farm Boy. Otherwise, I’ll let Teacup practice her interrogation tactics on you first.”