When he skirted the interstate, Marty discovered from the road signs that he was within a few miles of Fort Wayne, Indiana. Never having set foot in this part of the country before, he found it distastefully flat. He missed the snow-topped mountains of his home state of Washington. He flicked his blonde hair away from his eyes. The August sun was beginning to weigh heavily on his mind.
He had followed a secondary road for the last few hours. That was where the faint trail had led him, but he had lost the last thread a little while ago and was no longer confident his quarry had passed this way.
To complicate matters, he approached a “Y” in the road, both branches heading in an easterly direction, but neither showing any clue of what path may have been taken. Deciding to take a break, he sat down in the shade of a tree near the road, opened his pack, and removed a Slim Jim. He opened it and took a bite, savoring the burst of flavor and chuckling with the knowledge that the processed food was more than half a decade old. The fork in the road made him think of his dad who had loved the old Yankee’s catcher Yogi Berra. His dad was fond of quoting Yogi who had once said, “when you come to a fork in the road, take it.”
Laughing at the quote, Marty finished the last bites from his Slim Jim and took a long pull of water from his camelpak. He considered backtracking to see if there was something he’d missed before, but he’d yet to fully explore the potential clues the intersection might offer. There were three cars near the intersection. One was parked in the emergency lane as if it may have had engine trouble or simply ran out of gas and was pushed to the side. The other two were involved in a traffic accident—a head-on collision specifically. The violent collision had deployed the airbags on both vehicles, but there were no bodies in the cars, so it may not have been fatal.
It was the contents of the parked car that surprised Marty. This car was parked on the shoulder of the branch of the “Y” pointing southeast. He opened the driver’s door and there, on the dashboard, was a cigarette butt standing on end, jammed in a small hole punched into the dash. Another two cigarette butts were laid down in front of it, as if pointing the way. He smiled at the implications, realizing that Connor Mac must have anticipated his predicament at the intersection and had just sent him an invitation.
CHAPTER 1.14-Bait
“Snuff?”
“Yeah?”
“Before we start exploring the subdivision, I need to let you in on a few things.”
“Like what?”
Connor tightened the last Velcro strap of his level three bulletproof vest. “There’s something I shoulda told you yesterday. I think we’re going to be meeting another possible member of our team over the next few days.”
“What do you mean, Mac?”
“Remember Marty?” asked Connor.
“You mean the sniper guy I almost shot?”
“Well… yeah.”
“What about him?”
“I have a feeling—”
Amanda glanced around quickly, gripping her weapon fiercely and assessing her current tactical status. “You think he’s gunning for us?”
“No, no, Snuff. Relax—I didn’t mean to make you jumpy. I said possible team member, okay? It’s just that I left a few clues that only an expert tracker could find.”
“You did what?”
“Well, most of the clues I left were meant for an expert level tracker. However, the last one was as obvious as the nose on your face. The more I think about it, it’s my guess he’ll be here within the next day or two.”
Confused, Amanda took a long drag from her cigarette, studying the subdivision in the distance. She took another moment to think. “You think this Marty might help you get to Pittsburgh? Is that it?” she asked. Her feelings were hurt, but before she continued on a roll, Connor stopped her.
“No, Snuff. Listen, I need you. We’re a good team. But, remember, you said he was good. I thought he was good, too. And I felt the spark, you know?”
“A spark?”
“I thought maybe if he could track us, he’d be worthy enough to consider as a part of our group. Having a third member, someone we could trust, gives us much more flexibility and safety. C’mon, don’t be mad Snuff. It’s not a reflection on you at all—obviously, I trust you with my life.”
“You think this guy can hang?”
“Yeah, I do,” said Connor. “I’ve trained enough men in my lifetime to recognize that he’s got what it takes. I rarely see it. He was tremendously out of place with that group of lowlifes. He probably just hooked up with them to feel more secure in a group or was seeking some human interaction.”
“What’s that have to do with us, Mac? We don’t owe him anything. He’s an asshole just for hanging with those guys. It doesn’t speak very well of his judgment.”
“Come on, Snuff, he was just trying to survive like the rest of us. Who would you be hanging with if I hadn’t come across you?”
“What do you like about this guy so much, Mac?”
“Well, first off, if he has the skillset to track us, he’d be a definite asset. And, he’s in possession of an excellent sniper rifle and has the sniper mindset of watch and learn and keep damn still while you do it. Those are seriously valuable skills in today’s world.”
“I know.”
“And he was fresh and poised—not like the crew he was hanging with. I don’t think he was with them for very long.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, he seemed genuinely shocked that I anticipated his entrance point onto the ambush scene. Shows he hasn’t had much of a challenge lately. But, he wasn’t afraid to show his surprise. You know, that suggests a willingness to gather fresh intel and consider new perspectives, a characteristic that’s essential to all successful soldiers.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, I caught no smells coming off him. That’s pretty remarkable if he was tracking us for six hours in that heat. And remember, I was only fully aware of his presence for half that time. So, he was pretty savvy in the woods. And, I liked how he managed the ambush from his perspective.”
“He managed the ambush?”
“Sure. When he came in, he was obviously unhappy about it. He realized immediately it was an incredible tactical mistake by Dave. He felt stuck with Dave’s decision, but he took his time evaluating his personal options.”
“Marty did?”
“Yeah, it’s what saved him from that bullet of yours and probably saved the remaining group. I liked that. He recognized the controller of the pack at the time—me.”
“You gained all that from a few minutes near him?”
“You forget, Snuff, if there’s one thing I know, it’s men in combat situations.”
“Okay, so you’re saying this Marty might just show up and say ‘Hey, Connor Mac, can I join your little crew? Please? Oh, and can I help you back to Pittsburgh for some unknown reason?’ Is that it?”
“I think it’s a very real possibility.”
“Wow,” she said.
“But, I need to set him up to see if we can trust him.”
She dug into her pack, removing a small hairbrush and running it roughly through her long hair. Connor took this as a good sign. He’d seen this behavior from her before. She was likely wrapping her mind around his thoughts, looking to shoot holes in his logic. He waited; content to watch the light shimmer into the deep blackness of her hair. When she put the brush away and lit another cigarette, he pretended to be deep in thought, staring out at the subdivision. “So what’s your plan?” she asked. “How ya gonna set him up?”
“Well, for now, let’s do some sub-hunting. I’ll explain later. But, I’m thinking that he doesn’t know you. You might make a good test of his character.”