Critical Reaction (44 page)

Ryan was pacing the fence line like a caged animal. He didn’t like this idea. He didn’t like his daughter—or Heather—being out there alone. He shouldn’t have let Emily convince him.

“But what are the real risks?” she’d argued. “We should be able to reach the hole and ride on past at least half an hour before Worth can even get to the reservation after he’s alerted. Since you’ll be coming onto the grounds at a point closer to the hole than where we’ll start, by then you three will be approaching in Poppy’s truck
.
”

She’d made it seem reasonable. But then, Ryan had already learned that she was a good advocate. Now it just seemed like a stupid and risky idea.

Ted stood with his wife, Ray, and two others waiting to open the fence at the last minute. Making a hole big enough for Poppy’s truck, and making it seem like a natural break, was a far different task than creating a breach for horses. They planned to stay there until Ryan and the rest returned from the pit, then do what they could to hide the entrance.

Though concerned about the plan, Ted had finally offered to come along onto the grounds. Ryan had declined. It was enough that Heather had agreed to take this risk with them. Besides, they shouldn’t need any more people on this trip. All they had to do was catch Worth out of his vehicle with the keys, then force their way in to get pictures and evidence. Three of them should be enough to accomplish that.

And if something
did
go wrong, the cautious side of Ryan argued, it was a good idea anyway to have somebody on this side of the fence knowing where they’d gone.

Ryan looked at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. It was way too early to be concerned. Worth shouldn’t be to the grounds from Sherman for another forty-five minutes. Besides, Michael would alert them when Worth reached the guard station. And the last thing they wanted was to get to the hole
before
he arrived and take a chance on him seeing them
and turning around. No, they wanted to be near and approach fast, surprising Worth out of his vehicle before he could make an escape.

Poppy’s cell phone went off. “Yeah, Michael,” Ryan heard him say. The security guard paused. “What do you mean?
How many
?”

Ryan watched in alarm as Poppy pocketed his phone again. “Michael says they’re at the guard station already,” Poppy said tersely. “And it’s more than just Worth. Michael just saw them go past the guard station with five SUVs, half a dozen vans, and at least twenty to thirty guys.”

Ryan was rocked. “They’re not just checking the place,” he heard Ted mutter. “They’re emptying the pit. And they’re an hour earlier than you had planned.”

Ryan pulled out his cell phone again and punched in Emily’s number. No answer. He tried again.

“There are blackout spots out there,” Ted spoke again. He nodded toward Ray, who walked to Ted’s truck. Ryan followed him with his eyes until he returned a moment later, his hands full with two rifles. He handed one to Poppy.

“You know how to use it?” Ted asked, looking only at Ryan.

Ryan scanned the weapon in Poppy’s hand. “It’s an AR-13 semi-automatic. Yes, I know how to use it. But this is supposed to be about gathering evidence for a civil lawsuit.”

“Not for us,” Ted said. “If they’re emptying the hole, there are no secrets left to keep. Once that pit is empty, so is our chance to shut down Wolffia.”

Ryan looked again at the rifle in Poppy’s hand. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t want a shootout.”

“Neither do we,” Ted answered. “But you opened this box. Before we let this proof leave the grounds, we’ll do what we have to. Which means we’re coming with you.”

CHAPTER 51

Emily and Heather slowed their horses as they came around the ridge and into sight of the slope bearing the entrance to the hole. Even in the cold of the night, the horses were lathered and tired.

“Let’s take a three-minute break,” Heather said. “But no more: we don’t want the horses cooling off too much. Then we’ll head to the rendezvous point.”

Emily gratefully agreed. Her mare might be tired, but she was exhausted. They’d entered the reservation grounds several miles further east than the last time. That plus the gallop—on bareback—had left her legs wobbly and weak.

Moments later, Emily stood beside the mare, holding the rope around her neck, watching as Heather led her horse up the slope to the cover. “It’s still in place,” she called down to Emily. “Doesn’t look like it’s been disturbed since we were here last.”

Emily’s horse suddenly threw back its head, trying to turn in the direction from which they’d just come. Emily held the rope tight in both hands, but was nearly tugged off her feet.

Now Emily heard it too: the growl of an engine. No, more than one engine.

Emily looked up at Heather, who was already trotting down the slope with her stallion. Heather drew close to where Emily was struggling to calm the mare, threw her rope across her shoulder, and leaned down to give Emily a leg up. The skittish
mare kept backing away. Emily wrapped her fingers tight in its mane, settled her boot onto Heather’s clasped fingers, and bounced up and across its moving back.

The vehicles were drawing closer.

Heather twined her fingers in the stallion’s mane and jumped, hauling herself up as she threw a leg over its back. She straightened, and the rope slid off her shoulder and to the dusty earth.

Heather glanced to the ground where it lay, then at Emily. Emily shook her head.

Without another word, they both kicked their mounts, turning the animals’ heads west and away from the sound of the approaching cars.

The lead car of Adam’s caravan rounded the ridge and came to a halt below the door to the pit. The SUVs and vans drew up in a line, backing and maneuvering until they were each parked roughly side by side, half with their headlights on the slope, half with their rear bumpers in that direction. Then the team began piling out, pulling on Demron suits and masks.

Adam had no need for a suit just yet. He was already wearing his HEPA mask, but would not be entering the pit until later. He looked around the empty site. Perhaps they’d beaten the riders there. Or maybe the riders had abandoned coming there after the guard saw them. Either way, he was at least sure they couldn’t have gotten into the pit and back out again before Adam arrived.

It didn’t matter. The priority now was to determine what debris had been taken by Hart’s people, then empty the pit.

One of the suited guards approached. “Sir, I found this.” He held out a circle of rope.

Adam took it in his hand. It was probably below forty degrees out here tonight, but the rope was still warm in his hands.

“Emerson,” he called to the security chief. The man came
close. Adam thrust the magnetic key into his hand. “Have Greg start setting up the C-4 explosives while the team empties the pit,” he said rapidly. “As they remove the debris, be sure they keep it grouped in the vans like it is down below so I can inventory it. And I’ll need your car keys. Plus two sets of cuffs from the group.”

The chief nodded, then retrieved the cuffs and handed them to Adam, along with the SUV keys.

Moments later, Adam was driving west, his lights on high—moving fast over the rough terrain, but not so fast as to miss the unmistakable tracks of hoofprints on the dry desert soil.

Emily and Heather rode side by side, trying to maintain a good pace without overtaxing the tired animals. They were less than a mile from the hole now, Emily estimated—and based on the map she’d seen earlier, still four or five miles to the egress point.

They’d heard the sound of cars drawing close as they galloped from the site of the hole. Then, to Emily’s relief, the engine noises had stopped. At that, she’d followed Heather’s lead and pulled back from the dangerous nighttime gallop into a fast walk.

Now Heather tugged on her horse’s mane and urged it to stop. Emily did the same as her companion raised a finger to her lips.

It took a second before Emily heard it too. An engine sound again. Only one this time, but coming their way.

They each gave their horses a hard kick, driving them forward again into the blackness. Emily held onto the mane tightly as her horse lunged forward, striving wearily to satisfy its rider and keep pace with Heather’s stronger stallion ahead.

Another half mile passed as the engine noise grew gradually closer. Heather was still visible a short distance ahead—though she was slowly pulling away. Even in the diffuse moonlight, Emily could see the young woman’s head shifting back and forth;
searching, she guessed, for harder terrain where the hoof marks might be invisible in the soil.

The mare faltered under Emily, pitching suddenly forward and nearly driving her over its head. It righted itself, trying to stumble back into a stride just as a light flashed across the terrain, throwing the mare’s dark outline out in front.

The horse cut to the right, alarmed at its sudden shadow. Emily’s fingers were yanked from its mane and she rolled off its back into the darkness.

Her shoulder hit the ground, sending flashes of pain through her torso. She rolled twice and lay still, gasping for breath as sounds of the mare’s hoofbeats disappeared into the night.

Still catching her breath, Emily tried to sit up, but a shot of pain in her right shoulder drew a cry of agony from her lips. The engine was drawing closer now. Panic filling her head, she rolled away from the injured shoulder, scanning the ground for anywhere to hide. There was a boulder a few yards away. She tried to raise herself with her good arm.

The engine noise was roaring as it drew up within a yard from Emily’s body. She tried once more to rise.

The light was all around her as Emily dropped with a final cry of pain back onto the desert floor.

CHAPTER 52

“You’ve got to hurry,” Ryan said. They couldn’t be going more than fifteen miles an hour.

Running without lights, Poppy was leaning into the dash, squinting out of the Sierra’s front window, trying to follow Ted’s truck twenty yards ahead.

“I know you’re worried, Ryan,” Poppy said. “I am, too. But it won’t do us a bit of good to drive into a ditch. Or run smack into twenty guys who are probably armed. Besides, this is about timing, not speed. Don’t worry—we’ll catch that that little Aussie son of—”

Ted’s truck ahead suddenly swerved to the right, its front left hood dipping into an unseen trench with a loud thud.

Poppy barely got his Sierra stopped before they collided with the cantilevered vehicle. The three of them emptied onto the desert and joined Ted and his men at the other truck’s front bumper.

“Axle may be bent,” Ray said, staring into the gully.

Ted turned to Poppy. “You’ve got the GPS coordinates for the pit. Keep moving. We’ll try to get this free. If we have to, we’ll follow on foot. We’ll catch up shortly, one way or the other.”

Poppy nodded. Ryan and Kieran followed him back to the Sierra.

Minutes later they were moving along the edge of the trench that had caught Ted’s truck, looking for a way to continue north.