Ross Cuthross's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

Ross crouched at the back window with the binoculars pressed to his eyes. The three black SUVs sat in a tight wedge, grilles aimed at his door. Her wood-paneled wagon was boxed in between them, small and bright and stranded. He could not see faces through the tinted glass. He could not act without knowing who they were. Acting blind meant a raid, and a raid meant burning everything. He needed eyes inside that wedge. He set the black box with the red button on the floor by his boot, close enough to stomp. Then he powered up the long-range scanner and aimed it at the lead SUV. The screen filled with signal noise. Encrypted radio. Tight bursts. Military discipline, not local police. A door opened on the center vehicle. One man stepped out alone. Black suit, black fedora, dark glasses even at night. He stood in front of the wagon and lifted one gloved hand toward the lab. Not a wave. A signal. He held a phone to his ear and waited. Ross's own satellite phone buzzed on the bench. Unknown number. He stared at it for three full breaths. Picking up meant they confirmed he was inside. Not picking up meant they moved. He thumbed the trigger box once, felt the safety click, and answered without speaking. A calm voice said his name. Not a question. Then it said, "We are not here for you tonight. We are here for her. Send her out and we leave the lab standing." The line went dead. Ross lowered the phone. He had his answer. He knew who they were now, and he knew the price of keeping his data. The woman in the back room did not yet know she had been sold a choice.