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"It is useless for the sheep to pass resolutions in favour of vegetarianism, while the wolf remains of a different opinion." — William Inge

Axel

After Gwen departs with DeClaire, Lewis drools. “This is perfect. The spy will sell the EMP dot to the highest bidder. The end is almost upon us. She will succeed where I failed.”

His wording sends shivers down my spine making my arm hairs stand on end. “You know the woman?”

Shrugging, he chuckles to himself.

Damn, this idiot! My wife’s life hangs in the balance while he wastes time. Fists clenched, I limp across the room and punch the fucking mirth off his face.

“Who is she?” Finished rubbing my knuckles, I grab his gun off the floor.

Wiping the blood from his lip, he narrows his gaze. “It doesn’t matter. The moment my bomb goes off, chaos will ensue. The electromagnetic energy will fry every component for miles around. By the time repairs can be completed, it will be too late. You might as well stay here. I just saved your life. You’re welcome.”

Gritting my teeth, I add another set of tie wraps to the fool and his minions. Certain none of them can break free, I sit in the office chair, roll it over, then place the weapon’s barrel to the leader’s temple. “What’s wrong with the dot? Why does the programming need to be altered?”

“You don’t know? Holy fuckola, this is rich.” If he starts laughing again, I will blame the lack of oxygen to the brain for what happens next.

“You shot me in the leg. It's only fair I return the favor.” When I move the metal to his knee, his eyes widen.

Smirk gone, hejuts out his jaw. “You’re the law. You can’t shoot me.”

“Sue me.” I dig the cold steel into the joint. “You might want to clamp your back teeth together. This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”

The cult leader cries out while tears run down his cheeks. “Wait, wait, wait. I was lying. I don’t know DeClaire. I promise.”

“And?” My finger pops off the safety. He better start talking soon.

“After I stole the EMP bomb, the government changed the authorization code. The dot is useless.” The return of his smug smarminess makes my skin crawl.

“Unless?” My heart races as I surmise where this conversation is headed.

The bastard smiles. “Someone rolls back the programming to the previous version.”

Sonovabitch. Not someone, he means my wife!

I desperately want to shoot him. Remembering my oath, I stand and race to the ladder. Climbing hurts like hell, but by using more of my arms, I make it to the top and out into the fresh air.

Just beyond the office building, I hobble to the windows where overgrown shrubs prevent any kind of surveillance. Which way did they go?

Heavy booted footsteps stomp overhead in the office, accompanied by muted male voices. If the two women did not go up, they likely got out.

Gwen must’ve told the truth about the dot in the microscope. Either that, or she’s leading the spook on yet another merry chase.

Following their muddy prints, I creep through the door, around the corner, and duck behind the bushes. About twelve feet away, a smug-faced Dolly snaps a ring-sized box in front of my wife’s face.

“Okay, you got what you wanted. So long, farewell, best of luck, sayonara.” When my babe steps back, I pray the agent will let her go.

Instead, the CIA operative raises her weapon. “I’m sorry, but I need you to accompany me, Dr. Wulf.”

She inches to the side and pushes my wife. With no place to hide, I stagger back the way I came. Dolly could take my wife out the front gate. If she does, those Feds in the helicopters will stop them. Should she attempt the hill, the survivalists will shoot them on sight. Which only leaves…

Shit. The mine tunnels.

With seconds to spare, I lift the trap door. Holding the rails, I half climb, half fall back into the underground space. Lewis and the guards remain tied up in the small room to my right. No doubt Dolly will notice I’m missing but it can’t be helped.

Fuck. The tunnel lit by my mobile phone, I limp forward until I reach a fork. One branch goes up the hill under the jail cells. The other way is unknown. Tossing a mental coin, I duck deep into the shadows with my weapon gripped in my sweaty hand, then wait.

“I know you’re down here, Wulf,” sing-songs DeClaire near the trapdoor. “You try anything, I'll kill her.”

As blood drips down my leg, I fight off light-headedness. Their distant footsteps grow louder. When her flashlight dances on the wall before me, I sink further into the mine, aiming into the darkness.

Gwen, babe, be strong. I count twenty seconds, curse, double back, then follow their echoing footfalls down a different shaft I must've missed.

In a matter of minutes, the mine walls become clear. At the top of the fifty-degree incline, I crack open a steel door and squint at the sunlight.

Using my wife as her shield, the spook moves toward a Ford sedan parked on the side of the road. There is no clear shot, so I consider my options. I could disable the tires, leaving them stranded, but DeClaire’s promise rings in my ears.

Make a move, and Gwen dies.

I can’t risk it. Instead, I snap an image of the blue Escort with New York plates. As it pulls away, my cell vibrates.

For a moment, I stare at the 5G symbol flickering back to life. Hoping I’m not hallucinating, I bring the phone to my ear. “Wulf here.”

“Where are you?” Scott Hunter, the most experienced on my FBI team, wastes no time with pleasantries.

Finally, the break I’ve been waiting for. “I’ll explain everything. First, I need a drone on this vehicle heading south on an access road near my coordinates. Sending you the image now.”

My hands shake as I hit transmit. Unable to stand, my ass drops to the ground. Fuck. I can’t pass out. Gwen needs me.

“The survivalists’ camp is built on an old mine.” As my brain fog thickens, it becomes harder to focus on the conversation.

“Copy that. Your Patten pals filled us in.”

Holy shit, how could I have forgotten? Guilt assuages me. “How is Slate’s wife?”

“Baby girl. A bit premature, but everyone’s doing fine.” His assurances send wind whooshing out my lungs.

“Anyone hurt?” I should’ve specified on our team . I could give two shits about those who tried to kill us.

Hunt, however, understands. “All are safe except for you and Gwen.”

The world spins as I hold onto consciousness. “Right. The spook. She took my wife at gunpoint.”

“I hate to tell you, boss. There is no such person as Dolly DeClaire.”

At first, I don’t think I heard him correctly. No doubt, blood loss is messing with my brain. “Elaborate.”

“She’s not in any of our databases. We’re still trying to figure out who the hell she works for.”

“Come pick me up. I’ll need adrenaline, an IV, staples for my gunshot wound… Before you ask, no, I don’t want an ambulance. Oh yeah, one more thing. Lewis stole an EMP weapon. Do whatever it takes to find its location.” Praying I didn’t forget anything, I close my eyes and drift into oblivion.