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Noah lost time when he circled north around Raleigh, but he knew the Navigator would be tracked from the bank machine onward. Over the last eight hours, he had stopped to fill the tank and pick up a thermos of coffee. The small cups were only good for so long and frustrating. When he arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, he drove thirty minutes north of the city before pulling over at the first rest stop. Despite being used to going for twelve-hour shifts, he still needed to stretch his legs and use the bathroom. That was when he was fresh and not injured.
He took the time to remove the ballistic vest and bring a change of clothes inside. Most importantly, one of the burner phones. Once dressed, he felt better, and Noah sat on a bench in the lobby to make the call.
Cameron answered on the fourth ring. After a quick chuckle, he spoke. “Noah Hunter, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I want to make a deal. I want my old life back and you guys to call off the hounds.” Noah had ensured the interior didn’t have any security cameras, and no one sat in his immediate area.
Sean asked. “Why would I want to do that?”
“I’ll hand over the files I have on Walter Scott and the Taylor’s. I made copies of the voice recordings and videotapes, and you get everything. I want assurance that Angela Taylor will not be hurt and you guys will leave me alone. That’s it.” Noah glanced at his watch.
Cameron remained silent on the other end, and Noah couldn’t tell what was going on.
“Well? Deal?”
“I’ll call you back, and—”
“I’ll call you. You aren’t tracing this phone.”
Noah disconnected the call. He waited until the bathroom was empty and hid the cell inside the paper towel dispenser, activated, but on silent mode.
There were no files or video recordings on Scott or anyone else, but Sean Cameron didn’t know that. Even if he suspected Noah made that up, he couldn’t take the chance—he would make the call. It would be like kicking an anthill.
Seated in the Navigator, Noah drove south on the interstate, back where he just came, before heading west. Going an hour out of his way still left an eighteen-hour drive. One knee kept the wheel steady as he poured more coffee into the paper cup. He had enough fuel to keep going—it was what waited for him at the end that worried him the most.
*****
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, a flatbed truck parked sideways across the rest stop entrance with orange lights flashing on the roof. Two men jumped out and placed orange cones warning approaching vehicles that the rest area was closed.
There was only one vehicle in the back parking lot by ten o'clock at night. A black semi-truck and trailer had stopped, and the driver woke when high winds made the cab rock back and forth. A helicopter had landed in the parking lot, and the rotor wash sent plumes of dust and dirt flying into the surrounding trees.
Six men in full tactical gear exited and dashed into the building while two men covered the truck. The driver pulled the curtain closed soon as their rifle muzzles swept across his windshield. The red laser dots were easy to spot at night.
The men blocking the entrance moved the cones aside to allow the police cruisers and three unmarked vehicles inside. A flurry of activity happened when the building was cleared, and within a minute, the search began.
An older man with deep lines on his face found the cellphone in the men’s bathroom. It was quickly passed to a technician who set up an office on the hood of a Chevy Tahoe. A laptop connected to the phone as a computer program went to work.
“This is the phone that made the call.”
“Pull up a map of the area.”
After a series of clicks on the laptop, several men gathered to study.
“I thought Hunter was going to Washington D.C.?”
“He’s running. But to where?”
There were two options. The FBI agent tapped the screen, and it zoomed into the city north of their position. “He was heading there. I want roadblocks leading into the city and eyes in the air. Close the interstate down. Move.”
As his orders were being carried out, the US Marshal Brooks wasn’t sure about Cincinnati. “The hunter has become the hunted. See you shortly, Noah.”