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Kill Decision(87)

By:Daniel Suare


McKinney studied the vehicle. “You plan ahead.”

“Multiple exfil routes and cover for action is standard operating procedure.”

Just then both the ravens fluttered down and landed atop the SUV, pacing around.

McKinney was happy to see them. “Hi, guys. Is the coast clear?”

They cawed at her in response.

Odin came up with two small suitcases. One he handed to her.

She took the bag. “What’s this?”

“Forest service uniform and identification. It might not fit well, but it will fit. Head into the showers, get cleaned up, and change. We meet back here.” He nodded to the ravens. “Back soon.”

He locked the SUV with a flash of lights, and McKinney fell alongside as they walked back toward the truck stop.





CHAPTER 20

Oscar Mike



They drove for a couple of hours on Interstate 70, heading east toward Colorado. McKinney and Odin now wore U.S. Forest Service ranger uniforms replete with badges. The ravens paced about in a large wire cage that Odin had stored folded up in the cargo area. He had also stored food and water for them.

What little traffic there was on the highway consisted of isolated tractor-trailers. The landscape was as barren as anything McKinney had seen anywhere in her travels, a frozen and forlorn rock-scape with ice-capped mountains to the north.

Odin kept the police radio on, listening to the occasional Utah state trooper reporting status during traffic stops. They were seventy or more miles from the drone crash site now and had apparently escaped unnoticed.

Neither of them spoke. McKinney was too weary, and Odin seemed to be cogitating something. At some point she succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke they were still on the highway, which now wound along a river in brown hills patched with snow. She looked around in the afternoon light.

“Where are we?”

“Outside Grand Junction, Colorado. Eat something. No telling when you’ll get the next chance.”

She inspected one of the shrink-wrapped sandwiches and started tearing it open with her teeth. “Anything on the scanner?”

He shook his head. “Not about us.”

Before long they came down from the hills into the city of Grand Junction—a prosperous-looking oil town of mirrored glass buildings with a companion older downtown. But Odin blew through on the Interstate and headed out the far side. After a few minutes he took an exit onto a county road and headed into hills covered in snowy pines. The blue-white shadows of the Rockies were visible in the distance.

They passed only two other vehicles while traveling fifteen miles or so into steep forested hills. Odin slowed the SUV at the entrance to a rutted dirt road. There was a metal swing gate blocking it. He turned in and parked in front of it.

“We’re here?” McKinney looked around.

“Hop behind the wheel. I’ll open the gate.” Odin got out and put his Forest Service hat on with military precision.

McKinney did likewise with somewhat less precision. It felt odd playing the role of park ranger. She had never worn a uniform in her life, and she now realized how they caused you to adopt a persona. You could almost “feel” the role you were supposed to play. She imagined that was something authority had always known.

Instead of unlocking the gate, Odin was counting off paces to the right of it. About twenty feet down the road he stopped and flipped over a flat rock in the woods with his boot. With a cautious glance to make sure no cars were coming, he knelt and rooted in a hidden cache to come up with what looked to be a walkie-talkie and an automatic pistol in a sealed Ziploc bag. He returned to the SUV and emptied the bag’s contents onto the hood. He quickly slid the pistol into his Forest Service jacket.

McKinney noticed a packet of twenty-dollar bills, a U.S. passport, and several other items in the pile.

“You have stuff scattered all over the place.”

“When things go wrong, you’ll be shit out of luck if you haven’t prepared.” Odin then started keying numbers into the front of the radio. “Crypto codes—hang on.” Finished, he keyed the mic and looked up the road. “Safari-One-Six, Safari-One-Six. This is Odin. Do you copy?”

They stared at each other across the hood of the idling SUV, listening to radio static.

Then a squawking voice. “Odin, this is Safari-One-Six. I read you five-by-five. Sky is clear. Welcome home.”

Odin looked visibly relieved. “We’re coming in. Odin out.” He pocketed the radio. “Let’s get off the road.” He pulled a key out of the Ziploc bag as he approached the gate.

McKinney walked around and got behind the wheel of the SUV. Odin unlocked a thick padlock and pushed the gate in, motioning for her to drive through. He then relocked the gate behind them and got in on the passenger side, pushing the seat farther back with a thump. “We’ve a couple miles yet.”