Winter Territory (Jack Widow Book 2) by Scott Blade

Author:Scott Blade [Blade, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Lion Media
Published: 2016-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

22

Widow asked, “What exactly are we doing?”

“I told you. Clearing debris.”

“No, I mean, what’s our priority? Any debris or major stuff?”

“We’re looking for big things. Major damage. People in trouble. Roadblocks. That sort of thing,” Amita said.

Widow nodded. He knew it was her job. Although he wanted to help, he thought about the missing CIA agent and the terrorists on her reservation. He thought, too, about Shepard’s threat that the CIA would do anything to prevent a weaponized Ebola attack. Widow didn’t have to wonder about what "anything" meant. He knew it meant something bad, something irreversible.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to look around. Later, when everyone is in the community center, you can ask if anyone has seen him. I want to help, Widow.”

“Thank you. It’s a matter of national security, which means we need to find him. If we don’t, it’ll be bad for you and bad for Red Rain Indian Reservation.”

Amita paused a beat and then asked, “What do you mean, bad for us?”

Widow stayed quiet.

“Widow, tell me. What’s going to happen if we don’t find him?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I fear it’ll be bad. The CIA isn’t supposed to be here. They’re here because of suspected terrorist activities. They aren’t going to go away until they get what they want. And I’m afraid it’ll be at any cost. And that the reservation will be the one to pay the price.”

“What cost do you mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think they’ll raid the reservation? Take everyone prisoner until they find Jacobs?”

“I worry that it’s far worse than that,” Widow said. He paused, then he said, “Later. Okay? Let’s talk about it later. Let’s just worry about finding him.”

Amita said, “Okay.”

They drove on, taking it slow, taking it easy.

The cruiser drove over the road with no problem. They drove on until they came to an obvious path that the twister had made. Debris littered the ground. Amita switched on the light bar. Blue lights flashed across the terrain. Under the darkening sky, the lights bounced off treetops and reflected from the windows of nearby houses and low mobile homes strung together in tight, unorganized sequences.

Widow let his eyes trace the area, looking for damage from the tornado. Amita peered around, doing the same, looking one way and then the other.

She said, “Look there.”

Widow followed her gaze. He saw several mobile homes—some flipped or turned over, and some completely torn apart. Standing in a small crowd around building shrapnel were the former residents of the destroyed homes.

Amita said, “We’d better go look.”

She turned the wheel, and the cruiser turned and dipped over the snow. They drove off the road and onto the flat ground toward the people. They pulled up a few feet from the crowd and saw Henry Little among them.

Amita Red Cloud stomped on the parking brake, threw open the door, and got out without bothering to close it. She propped one foot up on the interior of the doorframe and leaned up over the roof. She called out across the top.

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