Free Dead in Their Tracks (A Mitch Kearns Combat Tracker Story Book 1) by JT Sawyer Page A

packs. Having studied
penitentiary escapes, he found that most convicts face-planted in the first two
hundred yards and sustained a fractured tibia or sprained ankle, thus ending
their flight. He trained guys in his own Special Forces unit to do an initial hundred-yard
dash to cover, take a breath and then assess the route ahead before continuing.
Tossing in a few sprints in the opposite direction from your dominant step
would also contribute to eluding pursuers as eighty-five percent of people are
right-handed and will eventually arc in that direction when walking
long-distance.
    After several rounds of bolting to cover
and analyzing the landscape, they arrived at the edge of the mesa. They had to
drop down into a shallow canyon and then skirt up to the caves on the opposite
side. There were close to forty caves peppering the ridge across from them.
Mitch looked for the ones that had paths leading to the mesa above, which would
provide an escape route out.
    “Why are we stopping, Agent Kearns?” said
Dev, who wasn’t showing any signs of being winded.
    “It’s Mitch. I’m just searching for the
best way, unless you know a better route.”
    She exhaled deeply and put her hands on
her hips. “I just want to get out of here and back to a city so I can finish
what I started. I need a fucking laptop in my hands, not a map.”
    He motioned to her to follow him down off
the ridge along a faint deer trail. “Back at the ranch you said you had the
files that implicated Aeneid?”
    “That won’t be enough. I need to open the file
and get further information on the attack. I didn’t have time to do that when I
was there making the copy other than seeing a few pertinent details. Without
that all I have are two guys emailing about some nebulous undertaking in the
Caspian Sea region.”
    “This guy Ritter, what’s his story? How
did he come to be such a major player in this proposed attack?”
    She clenched her jaw, taking a deep
breath. “That son of a bitch is a master raconteur like no other. He could talk
a bushman into buying hand warmers. The man had some inkling of military
service in Central America back in the day. He and some of his soldier of fortune
buddies pooled their resources and connections to start Aeneid, leveraging
their contacts in the defense industry. Eventually, Ritter bought out all of
his investors over the years until he retained full ownership. His
off-the-books mercenary agency provides private soldiers for hire to regimes
all over the globe.”
    “That’s nothing new. The world of
ex-military contractors is a huge industry. Hell, I’ve had offers myself over
the years to run security details for dignitaries in other countries. The money
was enticing, like $750 a day plus my own vehicle and house.”
    “So what stopped you?”
    “Mmm…the work was too sketchy. I’ve had
friends that picked up those gigs and were rock-solid guys but they were asked
to cross the line on occasion, if you know what I mean, and that’s not a place
I wanted to go.”
    “Yeah, well, Ritter has plenty of people
at his disposal who don’t share your outlook. Only now he and his cronies want
to expand their empire to the Caspian Sea.”
    Mitch tilted his head up, sniffing the
air. “Smells like we’re near a cow watering hole.”
    “Is that why you’re always sniffing the
air like a dog?”
    “I wish I had my dog with me. He’d be a
good sense multiplier, not to mention being great company.” Mitch glanced at Dev,
noticing her irritated glance. “Not that you ain’t a blast. I mean, shit, this
is just what I wanted to do with my time off.”
    “I didn’t see your dog back at the ranch.”
    “Nah, he’s, uh…he’s with my ex-wife. She
thought it best to hang on to him with my being gone so much.”
    She shook her head and smirked, making a
weak attempt at trying to lighten the mood with humor.
    “What, you don’t think I’d be a good dog
owner?”
    “No, just trying to imagine someone