The Sawtooth Job: (A Case Lee Novel Book 10) by Vince Milam

Author:Vince Milam [Milam, Vince]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TRG, Inc.
Published: 2022-04-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Tire tracks across beach sand leading to a tiny village grabbed my attention. Their disappearance rang the bell. Hidden SUVs lit the fuse.

A fishing village, marked with a half dozen small wooden boats hauled onto the beach. Ten miles from a hard-top road, with the last five miles along a narrow beach, waves lapping. A temporary sand highway, smooth and unobstructed. I took mental note of the village’s location and the image’s time stamp, and jumped back to inland satellite imagery, another diversion. What an ass pain, and it was a major effort pulling away as my heart rate and expectations rose.

Twenty wasted minutes later, I focused again on the fishing village and used images from a different time of day. The tire tracks, and the beach passage, were gone. High tide had shut down the fishing village’s access—an isolated spot, big time. And access dependent upon time of day, in rhythm with the tides. Time and tide wait for no man. Attaboy, Bart. Well done, you.

As close to confirmation as I’d get arrived from shapes under a scraggly coastal tree collection fifty yards inland from the village. Two vehicles sat discernible beneath the thin foliage. SUVs—their shapes a far cry from the several old rusted-out pickups parked in the village.

I spent another twenty minutes fake scouring other Ecuadorian locations, repeating previous searches so the fishing village wouldn’t stand out as a two-time look-see anomaly. Antsy to get moving, I lacked a hundred percent certainty I’d stumbled onto the right place, but—desperation and a ticking clock aside—gut feel said, “Do it.”

Hands over head, I stretched when Fischer strode into the room.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Nope. And I’m brain frazzled. I’ll return early a.m. and get after it again.”

He stood, arms crossed, showing signs of hesitancy over spilling personal beans.

“I noted your concerns about triggering field assets. But I’ve made a tactical decision and pulled the trigger a few hours ago. I couldn’t abide you as the single point of failure.”

I nodded back, expressionless, and said, “Understood.”

In his boots, I might have done the same thing. Sands dribbled in the hourglass, and releasing the bloodhounds presented a viable option. In his boots. In mine, it would make for a shittier situation. Ears always to the ground, MSS would get wind of the Company enquiries and become concerned, nervous. And trigger-happy regarding someone like me.

“Are you headed for your hotel?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ll noodle over some options for tomorrow’s search, then back at it.”

“You realize if our field assets make a discovery, your services aren’t required anymore.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

I exited the building, climbed into my SUV, and headed for a modern part of town in the opposite direction from my Airbnb with three action items on the immediate agenda. Lose the Company’s physical and electronic tail, visit the fixer, and use Google Earth for a detailed a.m. plan. The job’s undercurrent, palpable and lifting, buttressed my energy level. A hot trail, ugly resistance guaranteed, the aftermath a crapshoot. I performed an involuntary headshake with acknowledgment this was my type of gig.

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