CHAPTER 3 The Man They Buried
The shot never came.
Daniel didn't wait for it.
The instant Captain Nathan Cross lifted the pistol, Daniel threw himself behind the fallen oak as another round punched through the bark, spraying splinters across his face.
Silence.
Not the silence of peace.
The silence hunters created before taking the next shot.
Daniel slowed his breathing.
Count.
Listen.
Wind.
Leaves.
One pair of footsteps.
No.
Two.
Cross wasn't alone.
"You're still calculating," Cross called from somewhere beyond the trees.
"I always liked that about you."
Daniel said nothing.
The voice was exactly the same.
Calm.
Measured.
Almost amused.
Six years ago, Daniel had watched soldiers salute as a flag-covered coffin disappeared into the ground. He remembered standing in dress uniform while rain soaked through polished boots. He remembered Elena standing beside him, refusing to look away.
He also remembered one detail that had bothered him for years.
The coffin had remained sealed.
No one had been allowed to see the body.
At the time, the explanation had made sense.
"Catastrophic injuries."
Now it sounded like the oldest trick in the book.
A twig snapped to Daniel's left.
He moved instantly.
Another bullet slammed into the tree where his head had been half a second earlier.
Cross chuckled.
"Better."
Daniel reached into the wet leaves, feeling for anything useful.
His fingers closed around a fist-sized stone.
Not much.
Enough.
He hurled it hard into the darkness to his right.
The crash echoed through the woods.
Cross reacted immediately.
Two rapid shots.
Wrong direction.
Daniel exploded from cover.
Three strides.
Four.
He hit Cross from the side like a battering ram.
The pistol discharged into the night.
Both men crashed down the slope, rolling through mud and dead branches.
Daniel drove an elbow into Cross's wrist.
The handgun flew into the undergrowth.
Cross answered with a brutal strike to Daniel's ribs.
Pain flared.
Military.
Definitely military.
Every movement was efficient.
No wasted motion.
Cross twisted free and drove a knee into Daniel's stomach.
Daniel staggered.
Cross didn't press the attack.
Instead, he stepped backward.
Smiling.
"You've improved."
"So have you."
"I had to."
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
"Dead men usually don't."
Cross laughed.
"I've missed your sense of humor."
Then headlights flooded the trees.
A black SUV.
It roared between the pines, stopping beside the cabin.
Rear doors opened before the vehicle had fully halted.
Three masked figures jumped out.
Professional.
Disciplined.
Each carried suppressed carbines.
Not gangsters.
Not local criminals.
A team.
Cross glanced toward them.
"Time to leave."
Daniel lunged.
Too late.
A smoke grenade landed between them with a metallic clink.
White smoke erupted instantly.
Visibility vanished.
Daniel covered his face and charged through the cloud.
Nothing.
Only tire tracks.
The SUV disappeared down the dirt road, its taillights swallowed by darkness.
Cross was gone.
Twenty minutes later...
Blue and red lights painted the forest.
The county sheriff's deputies searched the cabin while Elena crouched beside the fresh tire marks.
She didn't look convinced.
"Military-grade smoke," she said.
Daniel nodded.
"And suppressed rifles."
The sheriff overheard them and frowned.
"You're telling me somebody launched a military operation in my county?"
"I'm telling you," Daniel replied, "that whoever planned this knew exactly what they were doing."
The sheriff sighed.
"My deputies didn't find much."
"What about inside?"
"Just this."
He handed Daniel a small metal box recovered from beneath loose floorboards.
It wasn't locked.
Only dusty.
Someone had hidden it years ago.
Daniel opened it.
Inside lay three objects.
A faded photograph.
A brass key.
A cassette tape.
Nothing else.
Elena picked up the photograph first.
It showed five people standing outside the hunting cabin.
Daniel.
Emily.
Caleb.
Margaret.
And Daniel's father.
All smiling.
The picture had been taken eight years earlier.
Something was wrong.
Daniel stared harder.
Then saw it.
There was a sixth person.
Barely visible.
Standing inside the cabin window behind them.
Watching.
Only half a face appeared through the glass.
A man.
No one in the family had ever noticed him.
"Zoom in," Elena said.
Daniel took a picture with his phone.
He enlarged the image.
The blurry face became just clear enough to reveal one unmistakable detail.
The same compass tattoo.
Black Meridian.
"They've been here before," Elena whispered.
Daniel felt the weight of the photograph in his hands.
"No."
"They've been watching us."
Back at the house...
Margaret sat alone in the kitchen.
She hadn't moved since Daniel left.
Her untouched cup of coffee had gone cold.
She looked older.
Smaller.
Not frightened.
Defeated.
Daniel placed the photograph on the table.
"Who's the man in the window?"
She stared at it for several seconds.
Then closed her eyes.
"I hoped you'd never find that."
"So you know him."
"I know what he represents."
"Then tell me."
Her hands trembled.
"Your father made one mistake."
Daniel leaned forward.
"What mistake?"
"He trusted the wrong people."
Daniel slid the brass key across the table.
"What does this open?"
"I don't know."
"The tape?"
"I've never listened to it."
"Liar."
She looked at him with tears gathering in her eyes.
"I was trying to protect you."
"Emily is dead."
"I know."
"My son almost lost both parents."
"I know!"
Her voice cracked.
"For twenty years I've lived with this nightmare!"
The room fell silent.
Daniel had never heard his mother raise her voice.
Not once.
She looked toward the living room where Emily's coffin still rested beneath the flowers.
Then she whispered,
"She wasn't supposed to find the basement."
Daniel froze.
"What basement?"
Margaret's face drained of color.
She realized what she'd said.
Too late.
She stood abruptly.
"You need to leave."
"What basement?"
"I can't."
"What basement?"
She backed away until her shoulders touched the wall.
"You have to take Noah."
"Mother."
"They'll come back."
"Who?"
"They always come back."
A crash shattered the front window.
Glass exploded across the living room.
Something black rolled across the hardwood floor.
A cylinder.
No bigger than a soda can.
Daniel recognized it instantly.
Not a grenade.
A military flash device.
"DOWN!"
He tackled Margaret to the floor just as the room erupted in blinding white light and a deafening blast.
The house shook.
Every light went out.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Then, through the ringing in his ears, Daniel heard footsteps.
Several of them.
Someone had entered the house.
And one calm voice echoed through the darkness.
May you like
"Find the child."
End of Chapter 3
