Page 15 of Gone (Gray Wolf Security #23)

“I don’t know how Zeke and Trak are finding anything in this mud and slop. There aren’t even animal prints,” said Kane. “The rains have washed everything away.”

“Believe me, if there’s a trail to be found, they’ll find it,” said Nine. “If we all had to stop for the night, chances are fairly good that the convicts did as well. The question is, did they get up early and move?”

“Yes,” came the voice.

“Jesus!” yelled Ghost. “You fucking freak me out some days.”

“I’m an old man,” said Trak. “I shouldn’t be freaking anyone out. But. Thank you for the compliment.”

“You freak me out, and I’m your tracking partner,” said Zeke.

He smiled at the group of men and nodded to Ghost. “We found something. It looks like they hid in a small cave above a ledge about a mile north of where we are now and then started walking early this morning. They’re not trying to hide their trail, which means they think no one is following them. ”

“It also means they intended for Rusty and those boys to die. They had no intention of going back for them,” frowned Gaspar.

“They’ll die for that,” said Mac.

“Should we split up?” asked Ghost, looking at Zeke and Trak.

“No,” said Trak definitively. “We stay together for now. The trail is easy to follow, and although we’re more in numbers, we’re faster than they are.”

“You walk, we follow,” said Nine.

Zeke and Trak nodded, turning to head back in the direction they’d come from. The men were used to hiking long distances in the field, particularly when they were active duty. Although generally they didn’t have thirty men marching with them.

Like any other time, they placed the strongest at the front and the rear, allowing for the certainty that no one would sneak up on them. With the others back at camp, they walked in groups of five.

Trak, Zeke, Nine, Miller, and Gaspar at the front. Ghost, Ian, Whiskey, Antoine, and Dex followed. Otto, Kegger, Pork, Mac, and Clay were next. Jean, Rafe, Bryce, Flip, and Kane. Adam, Spook, Garrett, Juan, Regan, and Akin.

Twenty-six men in all, chasing two. Twenty-six men with unusual skills and abilities, Special Forces training, and a determination that the convicts would never understand.

They didn’t need to stop for food or water. They ate and drank as they moved. If one needed to take a piss, another watched out for him. But there was no stopping. There was no whining that they were cold or wet. No one complained about blisters on their feet or chafing from the wet clothing.

No one was complaining. Nor would there be any until Frank Joest and Tommy Carroll were back in custody.

Or dead.

“Kane? Did you happen to get a read on the agents that were here?” asked Gaspar. “I want to be sure they left for all the right reasons.”

“They were fine,” said Kane. “I shook all of their hands on the premise of thanking them for their ‘help.’ They were just scared and, quite frankly, a bunch of pussies. They were wet and cold.”

“I’ll make sure to relay that to their director,” frowned Gaspar.

“Juan? Any chance you could do your appearing and disappearing act and find us that cave with the money?” asked Nine.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. I have to have some idea of where I’m going, and since we have no clue, I’m stuck in the here and now,” he grinned.

“Well, it was worth a try,” said Nine.

Up ahead, Nine noticed that Zeke and Trak were stopped along the ridge, looking down at the river.

“What’s wrong?” asked Miller. Trak pointed below them to a body lying on the rocks.

“Shit,” muttered Nine. “Is that Rusty James?”

“I think so,” nodded Trak. “His face is unrecognizable. He probably hit a rock headfirst.”

“I’ll let Sly and Code know the coordinates so that he can send them to the rangers or the bureau. They should be able to get a chopper and come and get him,” said Kane. He walked toward a quiet location, speaking in low, hushed tones to the two men back at base camp.

“Should I go down and bring him up?” asked Zeke.

“It seems the right thing to do,” said Gaspar. “Those kids owe him their lives. He damn sure doesn’t deserve to be lying down there.”

Forming a human chain along the ridge, the men were able to lower Zeke to the rocks below and pull him and the dead body up.

James’ body was a mass of broken bones, no doubt from being slammed into every boulder along the raging river.

Mac kneeled beside the man, pushing the hair from his forehead in order to snap a photo so the agents could be sure it was him. As he did, he stilled.

“Oh shit,” he muttered. “I don’t think our boy died from the rocks, although I’m sure that didn’t help.”

The men looked over the dead body, seeing what Mac was looking at. A bullet hole in the center of his forehead. It looked as though Frank and Tommy found their friend and gave him a true prison welcome. Or farewell.

“Now we can add another murder to their crimes,” said Miller. They could hear the helicopter in the distance, coming their way.

“You guys go,” said Juan. “I’ll stay and help to get the body loaded on the chopper.”

“I’ll stay as well,” said Pork. “We’ll explain to them what happened and ride with the body. We’ll catch you guys back at camp.”

“Thanks for doing that,” said Zeke. “The guy didn’t deserve to die that way.”

As the men continued on, Juan and Pork moved toward a large boulder just a short distance from the body. Sitting so that they were easily seen, their hands empty, they waited while the chopper found a landing place.

Frank and Tommy might not know it, but they were about to meet their worst nightmare.