Page 27 of Raven's Hunt
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, worrying. About everyone else but yourself.” He looked up as Nick walked over, hair spiked up, looking as if he hadn’t slept in a week. Though, Nick usually looked like that at the best of times.
The man kicked out a chair, all but fell into it. “Just once, I’d appreciate it if things were easy.”
Buck laughed. “Says the guy who spent a decade in the CIA. Brother, you’ve never done easy.” He placed his elbows on the table. “I assume you found something.”
“If by something you mean nothing, then, sure.” Nick rubbed his forehead as if he had the kind of headache only a dark room and four shots of tequila would fix. “I ran the prints from our dead mercenaries through every damn database I could, including ones the CIA claim don’t exist. The men are ghosts. I did get a couple hits on the tats that one guy was sporting. No name, but he’s in a few photos with other foreign military types. My guess is our mystery man had their identities scrubbed — created his own expendable hit team. Which, when we take into account the British accent, suggests former SAS links. I’m searching those now. I’m hoping Sloane has better luck.”
Tierney folded her hands together on top of the table. “I can call my contact in Interpol?—”
“Oh no. If you’re right, and someone associated with our JSOC mission sold out your recon team, we’re not involving anyone who knows you’re alive outside of this room.” Nick stood. “Sloane’s pretty damn impressive. Give her a bit more time. She’ll unearth something.”
“I heard that.” Sloane’s voice carried over to them. “And that’s incredibly sweet, if not a bit optimistic, but luckily, accurate in this case. First, I’ve cracked more of the body cam footage. Unfortunately, it’s just more running through the forest. Though, you might find this interesting in a disturbing way.”
She launched the fragmented video on the larger screen, adjusting the audio to cut out most of the heavy breathing. The forest emerged out of the ghostly glow of night vision, a silhouette thrashing through the underbrush twenty feet ahead.
The guy followed, flanking right, circling around until he’d intercepted the person’s path. Branches cracked, leaves shaking when a man burst into a small clearing, face scratched, eyes wild in the white glow. He stopped, held up his hands, then dropped a second later, the suppressed thut bouncing off the trees.
Sloane paused the image, glancing back at them. “Notice anything creepy? Other than that barcode on the shirt, and everything else?”
Dalton stepped up to the table. He’d been quiet all day when he hadn’t been patrolling the area, as if he felt he had to make up for the attack the previous night. “That’s not the same guy.”
“No, it’s not.” Sloane forwarded the frame, stopping on a timestamp. “But it’s definitely the same night, just a few hours earlier and a mile east, down a large ravine.” She looked pointedly at Buck and Tierney. “Probably why you two didn’t hear anything.”
Wade limped in from the outer office, still bracing half his weight on his cane. “I realize I’m probably a bit behind the eight ball on this, but that looked a lot like a hunt, to me.”
Sloane nodded. “Not nearly as far as you think, Wade. Now, this is where things turn really dark. The body cam you recovered wasn’t just live streaming to whoever’s running this show, it was broadcasting onto a dark-web server. I was able to back trace the router data through a number of masked nodes to a ghost server transmitting the feed across a global platform. Whoever built this system paid serious money for it. From what I can tell, it’s invitation only and includes an exclusive, ultra-encrypted betting syndicate.”
Wade’s eyes widened. “Betting syndicate? For tracking people in the forest?”
Sloane shrugged. “I told you it got dark.”
Buck coughed. “So, it’s something like The Running Man.”
“Only with fewer rules, shorter time frames, and richer bastards.” Sloane tapped more keys. “I can’t hack into the master server unless it’s exchanging data, and that only happens?—”
“When there’s a game.” Buck shook his head. “Which means, whoever was watching, also saw us survive.”
Wade tapped the desk. “That’s likely how they tracked you down so quickly, too. It would have been easy to catch Foster’s tail numbers on the video. Wouldn’t take much to connect Raven’s Watch to us, or Saylor’s marina.”
“Damn. Foster and his teammates could be on their shit list.”
Wade nodded, already heading for the outer office. “I’ll call Jordan. Get a unit out that way until Foster gets back with Avery and Greer. Though, with how Foster’s buddies operate, I almost pity anyone who tries to ambush them.”
Tierney watched Wade leave, a rush of guilt souring her gut. Involving Buck was bad enough. Involving everyone he cared about — people he considered family?
She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to them.
Buck nudged her shoulder. “Stop worrying. Wade’s right. Zain has the property wired twice as much as he did the marina. Anyone so much as breathes on the border, he’ll know. Besides, the way that guy talked last night… He’s not looking for that kind of rematch. He wants you on his turf, which is what we need to focus on.”
“Isn’t that going to be hard with a federal SWAT team running around.”
“They were running around. Not so much anymore.”
Tierney turned as Avery and Greer walked through the doorway, clothes splattered with mud, carrying the scent of sea salt and wet moss. They each accepted the cup of coffee Wade handed them, leaning against the desk, looking as if a strong wind might blow them over.
Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus, Greer. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
