Free First to Kill by Andrew Peterson Page A

ago, just after Special Agent James Ortega went silent. The tunnel ended in the tree line to the west of the compound nearly a mile away. We followed their footprints another half mile and found camouflaged netting they’d used to cover off-road quad-runners. The tire tracks extended to the west down the valley. We think someone met them on a logging road about fifteen miles away. The quad-runner tracks ended there. They probably loaded them onto a trailer or hauled them into the bed of a truck. We’re checking that angle, asking at every gas station and convenience store in the area if anyone remembers seeing them, but it’s a fairly common sight—quads in trailers, I mean. We’re doing our best to piece together the chain of events.”
    “Keep after it.” Stone paused a moment before asking, “Did you see my son during the raid?”
    “Yes, he approached our teams after the claymores went off.”
    “What did you think of him?”
    “I’m… not sure what you’re asking me?” Gifford asked
    “What was your impression of him?”
     “He was definitely in his environment. He seemed comfortable in a high-stress situation. I’m glad he was on our side, that’s for sure.”
    “That sounds like Nathan.”
    “He’s an incredible soldier. Was an incredible soldier. He’s given a lot for his country, more than I’ll ever know.”
    “That’s true, he has.”
    “I offered him another job.”
    “Oh?”
    “I need someone to talk to the Bridgestones’ cousins living on the outskirts of Sacramento. They’ve been in and out of jail most of their lives. A week before the raid, we put their farmhouse under surveillance. They might know something or the Bridgestones might call them or show up there. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth pursuing.”
    “So Nathan’s to talk to them?”
    “Yes, a friendly fireside chat.”
    “Uh-huh. And I suppose he can talk to these Bridgestone cousins in a way your people can’t? Is that about the long and short of it?” Stone knew Gifford wouldn’t respond, so he continued. “I see. Then this conversation we’re having never took place.”
    “I think that would be best, Senator.”
    “Nathan’s your man, then. Anything you need, Special Agent Gifford, you talk to Special Agent Watson directly.”
    “Thank you, Senator, I will.”
    Stone had one last question for Gifford. “Do you believe James Ortega is dead?” He waited through a brief silence.
    “I want to believe he’s still alive, but it’s unlikely. The Bridgestones tried to frag my entire SWAT team. If James Ortega was discovered, they would’ve interrogated him and killed him outright. I can’t see any reason they’d keep him alive. My people have searched every building within a five-mile radius of the compound, but he’s nowhere. We’ve also set up roadblocks on every road leading in and out of here. We’re bringing in cadaver dog teams tomorrow in case he’s buried up here. Later today, I’ll have two FBI helicopters searching the area out to a twenty-mile radius coordinating with CDF and Lassen County Sheriffs’ horseback teams on the ground. We’re doing everything possible to find him with the limited resources we have available.”
    “I’ll call Sierra Army Depot’s commander, see if he can muster a couple of platoons for you. Maybe a Black Hawk or two.”
    “That would really help. The more people we have up here searching, the better chance we have of finding him.”
    “If it’s any consolation, Special Agent Gifford, I’m going to nail those Bridgestone brothers to a cross.”
    “Thank you, Senator,” said Gifford. “I’ll be there with the hammer.”
    * * *
    It promised to be another long day for Nathan and Harv. Yesterday, after speaking with ASAC Gifford, they’d received some stitches and small field dressings on their legs. Sitting on their wounds hadn’t been especially pleasant during the flight back to San Diego, but other than that, the flight had been uneventful.