Beck's Six

“Roman—” she began.

He held up his hand. “Let me finish because we’ve got to get down to business here. You won’t hear me say this too often, but I was wrong, and I’ve regretted it ever since. And when this is all wrapped up, we’re going to see where we can go with this. I was crazy to think we could just walk away from what we had. But not this time. If you still want to take a chance and move forward, that is.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say, she was so stunned.

“When Hank told me that you wanted to discuss something with him, and I heard your proposal, I saw this as another chance for us.” He cupped her chin. “Beck, no other woman has ever hit me this way. I just hope you feel the same. When this is over, get ready for heat…and a lot more.”

Beck stared at him, not sure what to say. This was so totally unexpected.

Then, as if the conversation had not taken place at all, every bit of hunger and emotion disappeared from his face. He was once again the disciplined warrior. He climbed onto the bike, helped her onto the seat behind him, and waited while she wound her arms around his waist. His muscles were just as hard as she remembered, flat and corded, and the feel of them sent a flash of heat through her. Not now, she told herself, and blanked her mind of everything but the situation at hand.

“This is Roman,” he said into his own radio. “Call out.”

In her headset, she heard the other teams identify their positions.

“Okay. We’re set.”

Beck heard Hank reply to him. “Get going.”

Roman cranked the ignition and looked at Beck over his shoulder.

“We’ll take a quick look as we head down this mountain,” he told her, “but it is highly unlikely that Leslie is on any of these trails. My guess is she wanted to get away from everyone and explore on her own, but she’s your sister. You’d know better. So, we’ll get to the next one as fast as we can. Let’s not waste time.

“You’re right,” Beck agreed. “She’d look for something more challenging. That’s who she is.”

“Let’s just eyeball it,” Roman told her, “and then move over to the one next to us like Hank said. If they actually were stashing supplies and hunkering down on this mountain, with all of us here? Bad news for them, and I don’t think they’re that stupid. Besides, Hank said the mountain our group is on gets a lot more action than any of the others. Another good reason they’d stay away from it.”

“This one is bigger and, according to the brochures, more complex.” Both headsets crackled, and Roman stopped the motorcycle for a moment. “What? Okay. But we’re on the move.” He reached down and tapped Beck’s arm. “Did you hear? Hank’s trying to find out the exact location the Loyalists used five years ago so we can see if they went back there. They could have maintained a headquarters there that no one knew about all this time. They have a reputation for being great at camouflage.”

He was right about the trail. They were up and down the plainly marked ones in thirty minutes. Then they checked in with the other couples Hank had paired up, and they all headed for the next mountain over. The rest of the group would keep checking the area where they were staged.

They headed down to the bottom, took a moment to assess the situation, and crossed over to the next peak. As they began to ascend the winding road, Beck couldn’t help but notice the entire range was made of granite. It configured itself in a way to provide numerous hidey holes of many sizes. And in the narrow creeks that wound their way through the crevices in the mountains were gold that could still be mined.

Hank had told them to stay away from the three main wilderness forests because no mechanized or motorized travel of any kind was allowed. That area, Hank had told them, was particularly popular with hikers and campers. That meant that by staying away from those areas, the Loyalists could be sure of not running into people they wanted to avoid. They could create a headquarters without being questioned or disturbed and come and go at will.

What Beck wanted to know was who had dropped the ball? Why hadn’t someone been monitoring them after their episode five years ago and keeping track of them? Groups like the Loyalists didn’t just give up their game without planning for the future. Their rabid beliefs drove them incessantly.

The brochures Hank had distributed explained that two national forests, including three wilderness areas, encompassed most of the mountain range. That meant there were a lot of places to hide, especially on the more heavily forested peaks. The peaks were also very popular for hiking, which made her wonder why a group like the Loyalists would choose to set themselves up here. There were too many chances that someone could stumble over them.

Weren’t there?

It took less than ten minutes for the powerful Ducati to hit the first trail on the second mountain. The dirt road was thickly lined with trees—lodgepole pines, whitebark pine, subalpine fir, and Engelman spruce. In many places, as the trails turned and twisted, the thick stands of trees obscured whatever was in the area. This was more what Beck had expected. There weren’t many roads, and, in several spots, the trees obscured them. Groups like the Loyalists could explore the area for the places most hidden from the casual public eye, like hikers and campers, and set themselves up where no one could see them.

Since they hit this particular trail, they had not seen one person. They knew the teams from their own group were scattered over the trails, but it was strange not to see anyone else. Maybe the regular tourists were all choosing the easier paths today? She also noticed giant boulders and enormous piles of rocks. If there were caves back there, people like the Loyalists could create openings using dynamite, new caves where they could hide both themselves and supplies.

Is that what they were doing? Squirreling themselves away while they worked out the details of whatever plot they’d hatched?

She was running it all through her brain when Roman pulled the Ducati off the road and stopped beside a gigantic boulder that effectively hid them from the road. They both removed their helmets, and Beck shook out her hair, running her fingers through the sweaty strands.

Roman took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the file with the maps and trails in it.

“Turn around, Beck,” he told her. “Take a look at this.”

She turned from where she was studying the slope of the mountains in places where it ended in ravines. Now, he scrolled slowly through the screens, showing her where the trail widened and narrowed, where the trees were the thickest, and where large boulders were embedded in the mountain.

“Two things,” he told her. “One. If the Loyalists are here—and Hank noted that this is where they were before—there are plenty of places for them to hide and stash supplies. And Leslie, if they’ve got her. There are mammoth caves in these mountains that can be utilized. Two. This looks like a more appealing trail for Leslie. Thick stands of trees, lots of curves in the road, thick greenery on the slopes. Birds in the trees singing their little voices out.”

“Little voices?” She giggled. “Why, Roman McClain. I had no idea you knew such sweet phrases.”

He looked at her with heat steaming from his eyes. “You have no idea the phrases I have. Or maybe you remember them. Let’s find Leslie, and I’ll tell you some of them.”

“I can’t wait,” she told him in a soft voice.

Then he was all business again. “But Leslie first. These guys won’t blink at using her for their own purposes, either to get information from her or as a bargaining chip if they need one. Anyway, you’re right. That’s exactly the kind of trail that would appeal to her. But if she ran into those dirtbags and they grabbed her, she could be anywhere.”

“Agreed.” He nodded. “So, first we have to figure out if she stumbled across something and then if she’s hiding or the Loyalists got her. It just feels like she crossed paths with them.” He pointed to the trail then pulled up another screen on his phone. “Look. These massive outcroppings could be concealing caves these guys are using as hideouts. They apparently did it before, but we have nothing that tells us which ones they used.”

“You’d think someone would have marked them on a map,” Beck told him.

“We don’t know what went on then or who was in charge,” Roman pointed out. “We have to figure out what’s happening now. They could be gathering here, and Leslie could have run into a couple of them while she was tootling along.”

Beck lifted an eyebrow. “Tootling? I didn’t know you had such a word in your vocabulary.”

He snorted. “You know what I mean.”