Hot Zone. Elle James

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       Chapter One

      Trace “Hawkeye” Walsh checked the coordinates he’d been given by Transcontinental Pipeline Inspection, Inc., and glanced down at the display on the four-wheeler’s built-in GPS guidance device. He’d arrived at checkpoint number four. He switched off the engine, climbed off the ATV and unfolded the contour map across the seat.

      As with the first three checkpoints, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for at the location. He wasn’t a pipeline inspector, and he didn’t have the tools and devices used by one, but he scanned the area anyway.

      Tracing his finger along the line drawn in pencil across the page, he paused. He should be getting close to the point at which RJ Khalig had been murdered. Based on the tight contour lines on the map, he would find the spot over the top of the next ridgeline and down in the valley.

      Hawkeye glanced upward. Treacherous terrain had slowed him down. In order to reach some of the points on the map, he’d had to follow old mining trails and bypass canyons. He shrugged. It wasn’t a war zone, he wasn’t fighting the Taliban or ISIS, and it beat the hell out of being in an office job any day of the week.

      That morning, his temporary boss, Kevin Garner, had given him the assignment of following the pipeline through some of the most rugged terrain he’d ever been in, even considering the foothills of Afghanistan. He was game. If he had to be working with the Department of Homeland Security in the Beartooth Mountains of Wyoming, he was happy to be out in the backwoods, rather than chasing wild geese, empty leads and the unhappy residents of the tiny town of Grizzly Pass.

      In the two weeks he’d been in the small town of Grizzly Pass, they’d had two murders, a busload of kids taken hostage and two people hunted down like wild game. When he’d agreed to the assignment, he’d been looking forward to some fresh mountain air and a slowdown to his normal combat-heavy assignments. He needed the time to determine whether or not he would stay the full twenty years to retirement in the US Army Rangers or get out and dare to try something different.

      Two gunshot and multiple shrapnel wounds, one broken arm, a couple of concussions and six near-fatal misses started to wear on a body and soul. In the last battle he’d been a part of, his best friend hadn’t been as lucky. The gunshot wound had been nothing compared to the violent explosion Mac had been smack-dab in the middle of. Yeah, Hawkeye had lost his best friend and battle buddy, a man who’d had his back since they’d been rangers in training.

      Without Mac, he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue to deploy to the most godforsaken, war-torn countries in the world. He wasn’t sure he’d survive. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. At least he’d die like Mac, defending his country.

      He’d hoped this temporary assignment would give him the opportunity to think about his next steps in life. Should he continue his military career? His enlistment was up in a month. He had to decide whether to reenlist or get out.

      So far, since he’d been in Grizzly Pass, he hadn’t had the time to ponder his future. Hell, he’d already been in a shoot-out and had to rescue one of his new team members. For a place with such a small population, it was a hot zone of trouble. No wonder Garner had requested combat veterans to assist him in figuring out what the hell was going on.

      Thankfully, today was just a fact-finding mission. He was to traverse the line Khalig had been inspecting when he’d met with his untimely demise. He was to look for any clues as to why someone would have paid Wayne Batson to assassinate him. Since Batson was dead, they couldn’t ask him. And he hadn’t been forthcoming with a name before he took his final breath.

      Which meant whoever had hired him was still out there, having gotten away with murder.

      Hawkeye double-checked the map, oriented with the antique compass his grandfather had given him when he’d joined the army and cross-checked with the GPS. Sure of his directions, he folded the map, pocketed his compass, climbed onto the ATV and took off.

      At the top of the ridge, he paused and glanced around, looking for other vehicles or people on the opposite ridge. He didn’t want to get caught like Khalig at the bottom of the valley with a sniper itching to pick him off. Out of the corner of his eye, he detected movement in the valley below.

      A man squatted beside another four-wheeler. He had something in his hands and seemed to be burying it in the dirt.

      Hawkeye goosed the throttle, sending his four-wheeler over the edge, descending the winding trail.

      The man at the bottom glanced up. When he spotted Hawkeye descending the trail on the side of the hill, he dropped what he’d been holding, leaped onto his ATV and raced up an old mining road on the other side of the ridge.

      Hopping off the trail, Hawkeye took the more direct route to the bottom, bouncing over large rock stumps and fallen branches of weathered trees. By the time Hawkeye arrived at the base, the man who’d sped away was already halfway up the hill in front of him.

      Hawkeye paused long enough to look at what the man had dropped, and his blood ran cold. A stick of dynamite jutted out of the ground with a long fuse coiled in the dirt beside it.

      Thumbing the throttle lever, Hawkeye zoomed after the disappearing rider, who had apparently been about to sabotage the oil pipeline. Had he succeeded, he would have had the entire state in an uproar over the spillage and damage to the environment.

      Not to mention, he might be the key to who had contracted Batson to kill Khalig.

      At the top of the hill where the mining road wrapped around the side of a bluff, Hawkeye slowed in case the pursued had stopped to attack his pursuer.

      Easing around the corner, he noted the path was clear and spied the rider heading down a trail Hawkeye could see from his vantage point would lead back to a dirt road and ultimately to the highway. With as much of a lead as he had, Dynamite Man could conceivably reach the highway and get away before Hawkeye caught up.

      Hawkeye refused to let the guy off the hook. Goosing the accelerator, he shot forward and hurtled down the narrow mining road to the base of the mountain. At several points along the path, he skidded sideways, the rear wheels of the four-wheeler sliding dangerously close to the edge of deadly drop-offs. But he didn’t slow his descent, pushing his speed faster than was prudent on the rugged terrain.

      By the time he reached the bottom of the mountain, Hawkeye was within fifty yards of the man on the other ATV. His quarry wouldn’t have enough time to ditch his four-wheeler for another vehicle.

      Hawkeye followed the dirt road, occasionally losing sight of the rider in front of him. Eventually, between the trees and bushes, he caught glimpses of the highway ahead. When he broke free into a rare patch of open terrain, he spied the man on the track ahead, about to hit the highway’s pavement.

      * * *

      “I’LL BE DAMNED if I sell Stone Oak Ranch to Bryson Rausch. My father would roll over in his grave.” At the thought of her father lying in his grave next to her mother, Olivia Dawson’s heart clenched in her chest. Her eyes stung, but anger kept her from shedding another tear.

      “You said you couldn’t live at the ranch. Not since your father died.” Abe Masterson, the Stone Oak Ranch foreman for the past twenty years, turned onto the highway headed toward home.

      Liv’s СКАЧАТЬ