Free Lethal Force by Trevor Scott Page A

words.
    Tramil shifted his position to keep his extremities from falling asleep. Realistically, he figured the more he moved the less likely the vermin would find him interesting. For that same reason, he would often talk to himself about perfectly inane subjects.
    â€œI need to go on a long run,” he said aloud to himself. He looked at his running shoes on his feet and smiled. “Maybe I should find a nice open road and just keep running.”
    â—
    The man with the buzz cut sat at the kitchen table, his gun in front of him, and his cell phone at his ear. He could hear the muffled voice again coming from the basement below.
    â€œHang on a second,” the man said. He got up and stamped on the floor until the man shut his mouth. He was afraid this scientist was unstable. No matter. Once they got what they wanted from him, his life wouldn’t be worth the price of a bullet. “Go ahead.”
    His contact continued, “Make sure you don’t kill the man. We need his research.”
    â€œYou weren’t able to get the research from his server in Denver?”
    â€œNo. It was scrubbed clean.”
    â€œThen where did he hide it?”
    Silence on the other end as the caller and another man in the background talked in their native tongue. Then he said, “We don’t know. Are you sure you searched him? It’s not on him?”
    â€œYes, I’m sure. I had him strip down naked. I checked his clothes and his backpack. Everything but a cavity search.”
    â€œMaybe he dropped it somewhere on the train.”
    â€œI don’t think so. I had my eyes on him the entire time. Besides, he would never leave his work behind.”
    â€œWell, then he could have left it somewhere in Oregon.”
    â€œNo way. This guy is a control freak. He would keep his baby close to him. I’ll find it.”
    More discussion on the other end. This time muffled by the man putting his hand over the phone. Finally he came back and said, “We’re on our way there.”
    â€œWhy? I can handle this,” the man protested.
    â€œWe are not worried about a scientist,” the other one said, his accent really flowing now. “We are thinking about who else might want this scientist. We will be there by end of day.”
    The man gazed outside into the back yard at the snowy scene. A couple of flying black devils, ravens from hell, kept sweeping around, too curious for their own good. He picked up his gun and rushed toward the back door, ending up on the stoop and waving his arms in the air. “Get the hell out of here.” He aimed his handgun at one on the ground, pecking its beak into an area exposed. His finger slid onto the trigger, but he hesitated and took it off and lowered the gun to his leg as the raven decided on its own to fly off into the wind.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked the voice on the phone.
    â€œNothing,” the man said. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses higher on his nose. “Just a few ravens too interested in some garbage. What time should I expect you?”
    â€œLate this evening. We have the last flight into town. Where are you staying?”
    The man gave him the address and then flipped his phone shut. The ravens were back, moving in closer and sitting on the branch of some leafless tree. How far away was the next neighbor? Would they hear shots? He shook his head and walked outside to the spot where the ravens had disturbed the snow.
    Both faces were exposed, the old man and the old woman who had occupied this house until yesterday afternoon. The ravens had eaten their eyes. He guessed they would work on their stomachs next, taking the soft tissue first. The ravens would stay warm and get fat eating those two.
    Off in the distance he could hear gunshots echoing through the cold air. Gazing at the ravens again, he simply shook his head and shuffled back into the warmth of the country house.

12
    Jake and Lori spent an hour