His main concern was the possibility that the sniper had slipped on a set of night vision goggles. The trees would protect him up to a point, but he might walk right past the guy and be dead without ever hearing the shot. His only defense was silence.
Minutes passed where he would only cover a few steps. He stopped often, using all of his senses to seek his quarry. Smell was the unsung ally during this sort of work, and even the taste of the air underwent subtle changes with each human presence. Dane didn’t pick up anything, though. Eventually he found himself downstream of the warehouse, just beyond the range of where the shot could have originated.
He considered the possibilities. The shooter could have used a boat and long since left the area. The shooter could have started near where Dane stood now and left while Dane worked his way downstream. Or, he could have passed the shooter without realizing it, both of them so silent that neither picked up the other. Although he couldn’t have explained why, Dane’s gut told him this last one was how it went down.
Which meant the shooter still lurked out there somewhere.
Dane heard a change in the rhythmic sound of the river lapping against the bank, and whirled. He made out what seemed like a boat, then a dark form rose from the shadows of the water onto the bank.
“Bones,” he whispered.
“That’s me. Had to haul my butt half a mile downstream and then row this piece of junk back here so I didn’t give myself away by turning on the outboard. Plus, the outboard is about as powerful as a two-gerbil wheel on a starvation diet. Any luck on your end?”
Dane explained what he’d done.
“Nice move with the van. Hey by the way, what color was it?”
“White, why?”
“Because it’s headed back down this way.”
Dane turned and could see it coming back down the hill that had slowed him earlier before he jumped out. It came to a stop before the warehouse, about fifty yards away.
He and Bones looked at each other and shook their heads. Bones said, “No way that just happened from momentum. Someone launched it. Probably the shooter trying to draw us out.”
“That means the shooter has to be back upstream near where I left the van.”
They both stayed in the dark along the edge of the river until they were even with the road where the van was stopped. They bolted to the front of the van, keeping it between them and where they figured the shooter was.
“Look!”
Bones pointed over the top of the van. Dane couldn’t see that high, but risked a peek around the edge. Beyond where he’d jumped out of the van, a figure in black stood, the outline of what was probably a rifle hanging from one hand. The figure raised the other hand and flicked it sideways before turning and starting to move away at a run.
“Was that a wave at us? That is not cool.” Bones started to move, but Dane grabbed his arm.
“There’s no point. I can tell from here he’s moving fast enough that we have no hope of making up more than a hundred yard gap.”
Bones scowled before nodding. “Maybe you’re right, but you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That person we just saw? Men don’t move like that. The shooter is a woman.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Oh yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about.” Bones held the weapon in both hands as if it were an extension of his fingers. After being shot at twice in one day, they had decided that the first order of business in the morning was to obtain weapons beyond their knives. In Pennsylvania, long guns can be purchased without any dealer involved, and their Navy connections easily steered them towards a couple of mint condition Colt AR-15’s with 30 round magazines. They also picked up two Glock 17 handguns.
“I don’t know Bones, my credit card is going to be on life support after this.”
“Hey, better your credit card than our butts if we meet that sniper again.”
“True enough. I keep wondering if we need flak jackets.”
“Nah, those things make me look fat. So what’s next, anyway?”
“Well, we need to research Franklin’s Legacy and the creator of the five hundred. They have a huge library in the city, so we probably should start there.”
“What about checking Jimmy’s beloved Internet?”
Dane hadn’t really gone on the Internet much, but he knew more and more information was becoming available with a few keystrokes. The thought of using it for research hadn’t occurred to him. “You think we can access it at the library?”
“Probably. It’s a lot better than losing your eyesight reading through some index printed so small even a lawyer couldn’t read it.”
“Well we’ll give it a shot. After that, we could try the National Archives.”
“What fun.” Bones rolled his eyes. “After that, can we go bang our heads against a wall? It’ll be awesome.”
“You got a better idea?”
“As a matter of fact I do. Let’s give Jimmy a call. He ran down those license plates in no time flat. I bet he can get us something useful.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call. We’re gonna owe him another bottle of Wild Turkey.”
They didn’t head for the library until after lunch. Dane had called Letson earlier, but wasn’t able to get through and didn’t feel comfortable leaving a message with the clues they had found. They parked at the art museum a short distance away from the Central Library, and figured on making the walk there past the monuments and fields. The fact that snow had started falling two hours earlier did not deter Bones, although he did agree to keep the top up.
“It’s just a little snow. We need to keep moving so we don’t get fat and lazy. I’ve always wanted to see the museum.”
Dane knew the real reason Bones came up with the place, but he didn’t say anything. When they arrived, Bones’ first move surprised Dane not at all. He let out a whoop and started running up the steps made famous by Rocky Balboa. Dane followed at a more normal pace, reaching the top to see Bones standing with his arms above his head.
“Yo, Adrian.”
“Bones, you just butchered the accent worse than Stallone.”
“Nah, I made it better.”
Dane gave Bones a quizzical glance.
“When he says it, it just sounds dumb. When I do it, it’s sexy.”
They turned to take in the view of the skyline obscured by the now heavy snow. The strip of green extending in that direction was now powdery and white.
“Pretty cool view,” Bones said. “Think old Ben knew how big his city would get?”
“Of all the people around back then, I bet Ben Franklin could have pictured it as much as anyone. Come on Bones, we need to get moving.”
They made their way down the steps and then Bones let out a roar, slipped onto his side and rolled the rest of the way down. Dane hurried to the bottom where Bones was pushing himself into a seated position, grabbing his left shoulder with his right hand.
“Smooth move,” Dane jibed. “You new to walking?”
“Dude, somebody shot me.”
“Come again?”
Bones’ voice remained calm, but his words were clear. “I got tagged in the shoulder, that’s why I slipped.”
Dane’s head snapped up and he scanned the area for potential vantage points for a sniper. In this weather, it had to be pretty close. No one was taking a five hundred or thousand yard shot in a blizzard. Plus, Dane figured this had to be a case of seizing the opportunity rather than the methodical setup needed for a long shot. He and Bones hadn’t even decided to come here until a few minutes before they left the hotel.
That meant someone had followed them from the hotel. They were checked in under their real names, which hadn’t seemed like a problem until someone decided to declare Dane and Bones season open.