“Satellite?” Cage guessed.
Ian nodded, his blue eyes twinkling. “Privately owned and operated. We’ll give you the codes, so you can access it from Sanctuary.”
“Sweet.”
Ian tapped another key and the picture zoomed in closer. Cage watched Daryl Freed, the chief of the Sumneyville Police Department, and his nephew, Lenny Petraski, talking with someone beside the truck. The picture was so clear that he could make out the fresh shaving cut beneath Lenny’s jaw.
Ian handed Cage a controller, similar to one used for video games. In the center was a smaller screen streaming the same live feed as the bigger one. “Go on. Take it for a test drive.”
Cage moved the tiny joystick with his thumb, and the scope changed. He focused on the crates and zeroed in on those. If they were anything like the ones they’d found in the abandoned mine shafts beneath the prepper compound, they contained arms and ammunition.
“I did some quick searches. The company name stamped on those crates is legit, but we don’t think what’s inside the boxes actually comes from them,” Ian said, growing more serious. “Next time you guys are down in the mines, how about grabbing a couple samples, so we can take them apart and find out exactly where they’re coming from?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Cage assured him.
“Excellent. While you’re at it, you might as well drop a few of these.” Ian handed Cage a box of small items about the size of thumbtacks.
Cage took one out of the box and examined it. “Bugs?”
Ian nodded. “Super sensitive, too. What’s a movie without quality audio?”
Cage was impressed. “You have the coolest toys.”
Ian laughed. “That I do.”
“Where do you even get this stuff?”
“That I can’t tell you. But I am willing to share with someone who can appreciate the beauty of microtech, especially when it’s for a good cause.”
It was for a good cause. A Sumneyville survivalist group was amassing an alarming cache of weapons and ammunition along with other provisions like food, water, and fuel in the compound that just happened to border Sanctuary property. Through a series of seemingly random events, Cage and his partners had discovered that much of the arsenal was being kept in recently shored-up abandoned coal mine shafts underground.
Since the majority of the members they’d been able to identify were regular folk, the excessive stockpiling of lethal firepower had raised red flags. Thankfully, the Callaghans thought so, too, and together, they were seeking answers.
Cage stayed for longer than he’d intended. He enjoyed talking tech with Ian; the guy spoke his language and had similar interests. By the time Cage left, the back of the SUV was filled with cool new gadgets, and he was looking forward to getting them set up and operational.
* * *
A road closure forced Cage to return to Sanctuary a different route than he had come. It wasn’t a big deal; Cage was familiar with all of the back roads in and around the area, and it had been a while since he’d been on that particular stretch.
He was over halfway to Sanctuary when he spotted the small sedan on the side of the road, listing heavily to the right. He slowed down as he neared, noting the rental company sticker on the back, and then eased the SUV onto the narrow shoulder in front of the vehicle.
Exiting the SUV, he moved along the right side of the vehicle, whistling when he got a better look. Not just a blowout, but also a broken axle and significant frame damage to the right front end. Not surprising, if the tiny car had hit one of the monster-sized potholes on the remote mountain road—a natural and hazardous result of the region’s thaw-refreeze cycle. It took a while for road-patch crews to make it out as far as Sumneyville, and by the time they did—if they did—the cycle was already beginning again.
Cage peered in through the passenger side, confirming there were no occupants. A purse sat in the passenger seat, however, and there were two pieces of luggage in the back.
The rustle of brush behind him had him turning around to find a woman emerging from the tree line, muttering to herself as she climbed her way up the slope and back to the road. She didn’t seem to be injured, just put out.
She stopped when she spotted him, keeping a healthy distance between them and warily eyeing him.
The first thing he noticed was her hair—a riot of shiny black curls that she was trying to wrangle into some sort of band or clip at the back of her neck. His hands flexed with the sudden urge to touch to see if it was as silky and soft as it seemed.
The next thing he noticed was her eyes. They appeared just as black as her hair, framed by thick, glossy lashes, and currently regarding him with laser-like intensity. The bright flash of a diamond stud piercing in the side of her nose intrigued him.
If the rental-agency sticker on the back hadn’t suggested an out-of-towner, the woman herself would have. Even in jeans and a casual top, she looked too polished to be a local.
“Is this your vehicle?” Cage asked, glad when his voice sounded relatively normal. For a moment, he’d felt as if he’d regressed back to the shy, awkward teen he’d left behind more than a decade earlier when he joined the Navy.
“Unfortunately,” she confirmed with a frown.
Now that her hair was tamed, her hands went to her hips. His eyes were drawn to the movement. She had nice hands. Delicate-looking fingers tipped with professionally manicured nails. Her hips were pretty nice, too. Slim but curvy.
The clearing of her throat made him lift his eyes back to her face.
“Do you need assistance?” His heart thumped against the inner walls of his chest while she considered him and his offer. One beat turned into two then three.
“I’ve already called for a tow, but thanks.”
He nodded. She remained at a distance, cautious while somehow managing to project an air of confidence. She seemed to have everything under control. So, why was he so hesitant to leave?
“You’re not from around here.”
Her lips quirked, as if she could sense his inner struggle and was amused by it. “No, I’m not.”
Cage rubbed the back of his neck, vaguely registering the fact that it had been months since he’d last had a haircut while biting back the barrage of questions on the tip of his tongue. What’s your name? Why are you here? Can I buy you dinner?
What actually came out was even worse. “Right. Well, is there anything I can do for you?” He winced, and the quirk became a grin.
“No, I’m good.”
“Okay then.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and reluctantly forced his feet back toward the SUV. If she didn’t want or need his help, he had no reason to stay.
“Hey.”
Cage stopped and looked back over his shoulder. The woman had closed some of the distance between them. Not all, but some.
“Thanks for stopping.”
“You’re welcome. You have a nice day, ma’am.”
“You too, sir,” she called after him.
He chuckled but resisted the urge to turn around again. He didn’t need to look to know she was checking him out. He could practically feel her eyes on his back. Even more surprising, he didn’t mind.
He checked the mirror one last time before pulling away on the off chance that she changed her mind. She leaned against the hobbled rental, eyes on his SUV, her head tilted slightly to the side, as if curious. When their eyes met in the side view, he offered what he hoped was a friendly smile and a wave, pleased when she returned it.