Agent Peter Burke's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Burke drove away from the wreck slow, watching his mirrors. A dust plume rose far behind him, then dropped out of sight. He turned off the trail into a narrow canyon of red rock. The tall walls broke up sight lines. He killed the engine and climbed on foot. He doubled back along a high ledge. From there he spotted it — a small guard shack tucked against the cliff, tinted glass catching the sun. Someone had been watching the road from inside. Burke worked around to its blind side and waited, pistol drawn, until the door opened. The man who stepped out was thin and sun-burned, a radio on his belt. Burke took him down fast and quiet. He cuffed him to the rail and searched him. In the man's coat he found a heavy iron ring, like a collar, with a metal tag wired to it. Coordinates were stamped on the tag. Not Burke's coordinates. A different set. An outpost. Burke pocketed the tag and stared at it. He had his tail. He had a name for the leash. But the tag pointed somewhere new, somewhere he had never been told existed — and whoever sat at those numbers already knew he was coming.