Page 29 of Twilight Tactics

“Nothing. I’m right behind you.”

A sound reached him. Wait a minute. Was she—“Did you just laugh?”

“Never.”

“Liar,” he muttered. He hated this kind of thing. Loathed it. But he wasn’t about to let her go by herself. He sucked in a fortifying breath and pushed on.

The culvert smelled of damp earth and rotting vegetation. Twice they had to stop to shove aside debris—branches and stones that had washed in during previous storms.

He focused on Elena’s steady movement ahead of him, trying not to hyperventilate. Okay, he might be a tad claustrophobic.

Ignore it. Keep going. Don’t be a wimp.

After what seemed like two eternities, she stopped and Sully froze too, listening. Above them, the muffled sound of footsteps reached him. Someone walking past the culvert’spath. They waited in silence until the sound faded, then continued on.

Sully hated to admit he needed to get out before he suffocated. Mentally, he knew he had plenty of air, but he was also keenly aware of being underground. Not deep, but still ...underground. He definitely did not like this. At all.

The upward angle of the culvert alerted him that they were almost through and finally—thank you, Jesus—he could see the faint glow of cloud-filtered sunlight trickling down. Elena shut off her light and he did as well.

She paused at the opening that was partially obscured by debris and stayed still, her whole body vibrating with a tension he could feel. He didn’t dare say anything. Not until she did. She finally moved, clearing branches and rotted leaves.

And ... was that a dead rat she—oh gross. He swallowed hard.Wimp, wimp, wimp.He’d grown up on the Sullivan ranch, but he didn’t do dead rodents. Or live ones for that matter. No rats, no snakes, no mice, no voles. He didn’t even care for squirrels all that much. But nothing seemed to faze Elena. Not even a dead rat that she moved with herhand. Granted it was a gloved hand, but...

Gag.

He focused on the woman, watching as she slipped through the newly cleared opening without making a sound. He started to follow, but she held up a hand. He waited again while she made the opening bigger to allow him to get out as quietly as she did.

When he was back in fresh air, he drew in a lungful, but his brief moment of relief morphed into concern at their exposed position.

The central clearing with the blazing fire lay just beyond. Clouds still crowded the sky, but it was daylight with no cover of darkness to help hide them. However, with the sparse line of trees and undergrowth, the position was perfect—closeenough to see and, hopefully, to hear. And even though the branches were stripped of leaves that would have helped cover them, they were thick enough that they were out of sight of the watchtowers. As long as they stayed low and didn’t sneeze or cough or anything else, they should be fine.

He could only pray those weren’t famous last words.

Voices drifted toward them—fragments of conversation carried on the frigid breeze.

“—assured us this location was secure—” The speaker was one of the city men, his tone more suitable for a boardroom than a campfire. He seemed to be in charge. Sully mentally dubbed him Boss Man.

“We patrol twenty miles in every direction,” a slow, Southern prepper’s mountain drawl responded. “Your security concerns are—”

Sully grimaced, wishing he could move closer, but he didn’t dare.

“The FBI is already ... that ranch is within ... have to do is ... her,” the second well-dressed man said.

Were they talking about Ollie? They did mention the ranch, but there were several ranches in the area. They weren’t necessarily talking about Broken Chains. Then again, Broken Chains wasprobablythe only ranch with FBI presence. Andher? Didn’t mean they were referring to Ollie. But could be. Sully exchanged a glance with Elena. He pointed to his ear in a silent question.

She shook her head.

Great. She couldn’t hear either.

“—the girl is the priority.” Audible words once again from Boss Man.

“But—”

Boss Man pulled a gun so fast Sully blinked. He aimed it at the prepper arguing and pressed it against his temple. “Youhave your orders,” he said loud and clear. “Will you carry them out or should I dispose of you and find someone who will?”

The other man held up his hands in surrender, but not without a glare that promised retribution. Looking unfazed, Boss Man reholstered his weapon. “Get the girl.”

Again, which girl? Ollie? Or the one who ran from him at the ranch? Or ... another girl?