Page 76 of Faultline

Danny went into the creek with the center span. Pete watched it happen. Whatever is keeping him upright right now runs deeper than thought.

My phone has three bars. The cell tower is still up. Whether Cascade overlooked it or simply hasn't gotten to it yet, three bars is enough.

I dial Aurora Covenant's emergency legal line in Anchorage. The call connects on the second ring.

Nancy Pryor picks up. Lead counsel, crisis response. She's the attorney I called to help run shell company registrations. She didn't complain then. She won't complain now.

"Tosh. What's happening?"

"The bridge connecting Whitewater Junction to the highway collapsed this morning. Signs of explosives on the center supports. One man confirmed dead. The borough road crew was on the span when it went. I have video of the collapse, timestamped photos of the road conditions and the bridge approach before failure, and a firsthand account from a witness with combat engineering experience who identified structural indicators of deliberate sabotage."

Nancy goes quiet. The kind of quiet that means a lawyer is already calculating jurisdiction.

"You said explosives."

"Signs of. We haven't had a forensic team on the wreckage. But the witness identified visible damage on the support pillars consistent with charges detonated before the storm. He described the specifics to me at the site — I can put him on the phone if you need it directly."

"Who's your witness?"

"Liam Stoddard. Former Army combat engineer. He pulled multiple workers off the span before the collapse. One didn't make it."

"And you have video."

"Everything. I was documenting conditions before we reached the bridge. Photos of the road, the approach, timestamps. I switched to video when Liam started getting people off the span. I've got the collapse and everything after."

"Send me all of it. Now. While you still have a signal."

I pull the phone away from my ear and begin uploading the files. The cell signal holds. The video takes longer than the photos, the progress bar crawling across the screen while the storm throws snow sideways across the windshield.

Liam appears at the driver's side door. He opens it, drops into the seat, and pulls the door shut against the wind.

Snow falls from his coat onto the console between us. His face is carved from the same material as the fractured concrete behind us. He looks at me, then at my phone, then back at the bridge.

"Nancy Pryor," I say. "Aurora Covenant. She's receiving the files now."

He nods once. His hand finds my thigh beneath the dash, and the grip is hard enough that the pressure registers through my jeans. He doesn't look at me when he does it. He's watching the gap where the span used to be, and his hand on my leg is the only indication that the man inside the tactical silence is still tracking me. Still confirming I'm here. Alive. Within reach.

I let it stay. His hand on my thigh and my phone uploading evidence to an attorney in Anchorage. Both of us working. Neither of us talking about it.

The radio crackles. Carl's voice comes through sharp and clear despite the storm. "All stations, this is Carl. Roll call update. I've got Hank, Sally, Roy Prescott, the Fielding family, and Agnes Croft confirmed accounted for. Sela's opening the clinic for anyone who needs it. Rhys and Harlow are at the south abutment with Marc."

Rhys is on the town side. We're on the mountain side. The bridge is the gap between us.

"Rhys," I say into the radio. "It's Tosh. I'm uploading video of the collapse to Aurora Covenant's legal team in Anchorage. Can the troopers get a forensic team to the site?"

The radio goes quiet, then Rhys's voice comes back. Steady, measured, carrying the weight of a sheriff who has just been told his jurisdiction includes a crime scene he can't physically reach. "The troopers know. I got through to the Palmer barracks before the lines jammed. They're aware of the situation, but with the bridge out, they can't get ground units in. They're talking about a helicopter, but not in this weather. Harlow's securing the south abutment and documenting everything on this side."

"When the storm breaks," I say.

"When the storm breaks," Rhys repeats.

Liam's hand tightens on my thigh. The pressure says what his voice doesn't: by the time a helicopter arrives, whoever placed those charges will be long gone. Along with anything they left behind.

I switch channels and call Nancy back. "The troopers are aware. Helicopter access pending weather. I need you to get this in front of the U.S. Attorney's Office and push for emergency preservation of the bridge site. Cascade's reconstruction offer is going to arrive before the forensic team does, and their people cannot get onto that wreckage first."

"Reconstruction assistance?"

"They'll offer. They always do. And the first truck they send in will carry more lawyers than engineers."