Natural Evil by Thea Harrison Page B

And I’ve got a rifle in the Jeep I want you to take.”
    “You came prepared.” Tribunal Peacekeepers were famous for it. They dealt with all kinds of weird shit. She took the pack and handed him the phone, which he tucked into his jacket pocket.
    “Standard issue for a field assignment is a rifle, handgun, and a basic camp with three days of meals, especially when there’s the possibility of rough terrain,” he said. He glanced around. “We’re not going to waste time breaking camp. Let’s go.”
    He drove the Jeep the rest of the way. Neither spoke through the increasingly rough ride. A twelve-foot security fence bordered the mine property, but scaling it with the assistance of an oversized Wyr turned out to be no problem. Luis parked the Jeep close to the fence, stood on the hood, threw another blanket over the coiled barbed wire at the top, and hoisted her over as easily as if she weighed forty pounds, not a hundred and forty. She made the drop to the other side, her knees bent for the impact. When she straightened, he tossed the rifle and pack over.
    She settled the pack on her back and shouldered the rifle. It was an M16, and she was well familiar with the weapon. Then they stood on opposite sides of the fence, facing each other. Luis nodded to her left. “The gate and office are not quite a mile back. Follow the fence and you can’t miss it. There’s a guard booth manned by security personnel, but you shouldn’t have any trouble avoiding them. It’s another quarter mile to the mine entrance. There are a couple of buildings and a parking lot.” He regarded her, his face grim, and hooked the fingers of one hand through the fence. “I’m never going to forgive myself if something happens to you.”
    “Don’t fuss,” she said. She touched his fingers gently. “The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll get back. In the meantime, if we’re lucky, nothing will happen here.”
    He drew in a deep breath and let it out again. It seemed laden with the weight of unsaid words. His hand fell away from the fence. He nodded to her and left.
    The wild, silent desert reminded her of Afghanistan. She felt the ghosts of her former companions-in-arms as she hiked the distance back to the mine office and entrance. Losing them hurt, and it was always going to hurt. There would never be any further resolution to what had happened to them, but on that walk, for the first time, she felt a sense of comfort from carrying those ghosts with her, and that was farther than she had ever expected to get.
    The area was quiet, the mine offices dark. Luis was right; she didn’t have any trouble avoiding security guards. With any luck, they would never know she had been on the property.
    A quarter of a mile in, the entrance to the mine was set into a tall, rocky bluff and was surrounded by buildings, a parking lot, and large, darkly shadowed machinery. Recon was quick and easy. She couldn’t sense the crossover passage, but that didn’t surprise her.
    She took a tour of the buildings, and all was quiet, so she decided to go to high ground and find a place to watch and wait. After a careful fifteen-minute climb, she found a ledge wide enough to lie down on, and she rewarded herself by eating the MRE and downing a bottle of water.
    Not long after, the sky began to lighten in the east, looking bruised and leaden. It was going to be a dirty dawn, dulled by the aftermath of the storm.
    She saw the dust cloud first, and she straightened from her slouch. Two SUVs came into sight, roaring toward her.
    Well. That was either good news or bad news. She took the blanket from around her shoulders, folded it and set it aside. Then she stretched out on her stomach, laid the M16 beside her, rested her chin on her hands and watched the arrivals.
    It was not good news.
    Both SUVs screeched to a halt and six men climbed out. Four men she didn’t recognize. Rodriguez. Bradshaw Senior.
    Bradshaw had gotten here awfully fast. Too fast. Where had she gone