Page 100 of Battle Mountain

“Who are you?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Drop the weapons and tell me where Axel Soledad is.”

At that moment, the fireworks behind the stage erupted as the ceremony reached completion. The night sky lit up with rockets and exploding multicolored shells. Psychedelic colors pulsed across the lawn and the ranch buildings.

“Double-A?” someone called. “What’s going on?”

It was Marshall Bissett. He’d returned from duty at the front gate to take his place inside for when the celebrants crowded into the lodge. Like Allison, he carried two modified Glocks low at his sides.

The blond man didn’t hesitate. He swung his gun to the side and shot Bissett with a single shot to the heart. Then the huge muzzle was whipped back around to her, and the cylinder rotated within the movement. It had happened so fast she wasn’t able to react, and the sound of the gunshot was muffled by exploding fireworks.

“You killed him,” she said.

“I recognized him from before,” the man said. “Are there any more of you down here?”

Allison hesitated. Then: “No. But others are coming.”

“Not anymore.”

And it dawned on her that the “fireworks” she’d heard earlier had been been a mixture of gunfire and pyrotechnics.

“Where’s Axel?” the man asked again.

“He’s not up there?” she asked, indicating Battle Mountain.

“He ran off when the situation got raggedy.”

She was confused.Axel ran away?

“How did you know my name?” she asked.

“I met people who care about you, and that’s why I’m going to let you walk away from this. But first you need to drop the weapons.”

She looked over to see that the Centurions were making their way from the lawn to the lodge. The party was about to begin.

“I know what happened in Afghanistan,” the man said. “I understand. But you’ve been manipulated by Axel into doing this. He’s good at that.”

She stared deep into the eyes of the man with the revolver. Something about them reminded her of a bird of prey. His eyes were sharp and relentless.

“But…”

“There are other ways. You don’t have to throw in with Axel. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Go home,” he said. “Get in your car and go home.”

Allison took a deep breath and sighed. Then she let the Glocks slip from her hands into the grass.

“Go,” he said. “Don’t look back.”

She didn’t look back.

—

Joe jogged downthe trail on the mountainside, trying not to exert himself to the point of useless exhaustion. The gunshots had gone silent, but following them there had been the frenetic crackling of a fireworks display that had briefly lit up the sky. He debated whether he should stop and call in what he’d heard and seen, but decided to keep going, keep pushing.

A few minutes later, ahead of him farther down the trail, someone wailed. It was a desperate, plaintive sound and he paused to catch his breath and listen. Seconds later, he noticed a light bobbing through the trunks of the trees ahead of him. A headlamp.

He stepped off the trail and got behind the trunk of an ancient ponderosa pine. He doused his headlamp. The light got brighter in the darkness, and he heard the racked voice of a woman saying, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…”