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When the call came in, teams scrambled into action. Four men remained inside Noah Hunter’s home, while twelve others relocated to set up roadblocks into town. There were only two ramps off the interstate, and by eight o’clock Saturday night, traffic was being checked vehicle by vehicle. The FBI worked in a coordinated effort with Homeland Security to outward appearances. The Arrow Point police were absent from the operation.
Walter Scott received updates every ten minutes during his flight to Los Angeles. When Sean Cameron called to let him know Hunter’s location, he diverted the flight to Denver, Colorado. Golfing at the Bel-Air Country Club could wait while he pulled the thorn from his side.
There was no evidence to the best of his knowledge, and even if there were, it wouldn’t make any difference. He could squash and spin the narrative to suit the situation. Walter had learned a few tricks during his many decades in the government and could handle bad press. When he was done, Hunter wouldn’t see the inside of a courtroom.
*****
THE FATIGUE VANISHED when Noah drove through Casper. The sun was inches from disappearing below the horizon, and he kept one eye on the traffic and another in the air. The familiar sights did nothing to calm the turmoil inside, but he couldn’t hold back a grin when he spotted the Hills Road overpass. It wasn’t the bridge but the vehicle that waited underneath—a Ford Police Interceptor.
Hills Road was the eastern boundary for the APPD.
Noah lowered the passenger window as he pulled alongside the black cruiser. Dickinson got out and leaned inside.
“You don’t have much time. Feds are everywhere.” She passed Noah his cell phone and an extra-large coffee. “Phone’s charged, and I thought you could use this.”
“You have no idea how much I need that. Thanks.” Noah opened the armrest and passed her a white envelope. “Hold onto this.”
Angie frowned. “What is it?”
“My will. There are no guarantees in life and too many moving parts right now. I’d feel better if you held onto it.”
She tucked the envelope inside her vest and frowned. “I can leave the cruiser here and go with you ...”
Noah held a finger in the air and canted his head to the side. When his head snapped forward, he had a visual. “Helicopter.”
The chopping sound was subtle but carried for miles, and the setting sun made it easy to spot. A thousand feet in the air, a black-bodied Bell UH-1 hovered over the interstate off-ramp to town.
“I have to go. Thank you for everything.” Noah held out a hand across the passenger seat, and Angie’s hands shook as they embraced.
“Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.” The rasp in her voice and watering eyes made Noah’s heart lurch.
He reluctantly let go and winked.
Noah engaged the four-wheel drive, and instead of merging onto the interstate, he cut in front of the cruiser and into the ditch. After a hard right, the SUV climbed the incline. Hills Road overpass was a prominent location to the APPD and a favorite spot to set up a speed trap. Noah had sat here for countless hours over his career. ATV and snowmobile trails paralleled the main road for miles and had worn a path.
The undercarriage scraped when the right side dipped low, but the vehicle was more than up to the challenge. Noah kept one eye on the helicopter and turned right on the overpass. The device vibrated after he turned on his phone and nearly had a meltdown as several dozen notifications dinged.
When he turned west on the county road, he activated the phone’s GPS. “Come and get me, assholes.”
The county road paralleled the interstate for six miles. There was only one active farm in the area and acres of vacant land. When the helicopter swung out over the interstate, Noah stepped on the accelerator and raced toward it.
Four minutes had passed since he activated the phone. “Not bad.”
Noah swore and pounded the steering wheel when he passed the old Campbell farm. His first instinct was to keep going and ignore the hitchhiker dressed in patrol blues.
There just wasn’t time.
However, despite the time constraints, he hit the brakes and stopped fifty feet past the extended thumb. When Steve Hutchings climbed inside, Noah didn’t wait for the door to close before taking off. The staff sergeant slammed the door shut as he was thrown back in the seat.
“Thanks. It’s hard to get a ride with all the G-men around.” Hutchings buckled in, and Noah remained silent.
The helicopter descended to five-hundred feet and swung about in an arc, pacing the Navigator. The gig was up.
“I can still let you out. Last chance, old man.”
Hutchings snorted and helped himself to Noah’s coffee. “Ah, perfect temperature.”
The SUV was flying along the straight road. Noah stopped looking at the speedometer when he passed ninety. He refused to cave in and ask the question.
Sixty seconds later, he couldn’t stand the silence.
“Okay, I give up. How the hell did you know the way I would be coming in?” Noah’s white-knuckled grip kept the vehicle steady. “Hold on. Turn coming up.”
Hutchings chuckled. “Who do you think taught you about Hills Road?” He held the coffee on an angle as Noah turned north on a little-used fire road. The engine hummed under the abuse, and the tires found purchase on the gravel road. Any doubt the helicopter was following them disappeared as it turned north as well. The thumping noise drew closer.
Dickinson had talked to Hutchings, and the old man figured it out. Lovely.
“If you finish my coffee, you are getting out to walk.” His left wrist was doing better, but it would still need a full month of rest to be whole. He gingerly steered and held out his hand.
“Don’t worry, rookie. I gotcha covered.” He passed over the drink.
Noah only had time for a quick sip before turning west once again on Concession 4. “Open my phone up to the security application.”
They were two minutes out from Noah’s home.
The ten-acre property used to be part of a farm on the outskirts of town. As Arrow Point grew over the last twenty years, other farms had sold out to developers, including the former owners. All that remained of a one-hundred-acre parcel of land were ten acres, a barn, and a farmhouse. Noah enjoyed the privacy. It felt like he was in the country while still within the city limits.
“Alarms have been activated inside the house.” Hutchings scrolled through the video footage. “They are still there.”
Noah finished the coffee and glanced in the rearview mirror. “Anything for zone two?” The helicopter had disappeared, but they could still hear the thumping noise.
“It says secured, and the icons are green.”
“Click on disarm and open zone two. The code is 44174417.”
Noah slowed as he entered the residential streets.
One minute out.
“Seriously? That’s just your badge number, twice.”
“Easy to remember,” Noah chucked. “Open the door.”
When the helicopter eased off, the background noise had shifted. Wailing sirens were drawing close, and a black Chevy Tahoe whipped around the corner in pursuit—one hundred yards behind.
The massive Douglas fir tree on Noah’s front lawn came into sight.
“Hit the trunk side.” Hutchings braced himself against the dash and gripped the door handle.
A navy-blue SUV blocked the end of Noah’s driveway, and when the front end of the Navigator hit, the smaller vehicle didn’t stand a chance. They barely slowed, and the sound of twisting metal sounded like an explosion as they drove up the driveway.
A man in full tactical uniform had stepped out of the side door when Noah roared by. The man didn’t have time to bring the rifle to his shoulder when the Navigator missed him by inches. He fell back inside the house.
“Get ready.”
One hundred yards into the field, lights inside the barn outlined the large opening. The crack of a rifle sounded, and the rear window of the Navigator shattered. Noah ducked as low as possible as he hit the brakes.
“Now!”
The abused Navigator drove inside as the reinforced gate swung closed behind. The sound of bullets striking the side of the barn steadily increased, but none hit the vehicle. The motors swung the door shut and the locking pins settled into the steel frame. Red Knight Security had turned the barn into a fortress, and it would be even harder trying to get inside the second structure.
The three-room bunker resembled an igloo with two other domes attached. Steel reinforced concrete could easily hold off gunfire and explosions. When the five-inch steel door closed behind the Arrow Point police officers, Noah punched in the code on the panel and locked them inside the bunker.