“But if they’ve truly got big trucks up here,” she pointed out, “loaded with explosives—which we aren’t positive about yet—they’ve got something massive planned. We need to find out what it is.”
“And if they’ve managed to wipe away any identification, then finding a cigarette butt and analyzing the saliva would be important. Remember. They didn’t expect the whole Brotherhood Protectors crew doing training exercises on the other mountain right when they’re planning whatever it is they’re planning. They figured they were alone out here with no one to bother them or even know they were here.”
“We need to tell the others.” She dusted off her hands. “So they can also look for any miniscule trash, like more butts. Or anything else we might be able to use for identification.”
“And we need to call Hank again. I have to get Paladin up here. Right now. If they have explosives, he can find them.”
“But we don’t even know where they might be storing the stuff,” Beck pointed out. “Or even for sure if they have it.”
“That’s why we need Paladin,” he repeated. “They used dynamite last time, and Hank said he discovered it’s their signature weapon.”
“But Paladin can’t sniff the whole mountain,” she pointed out.
Roman nodded. “We’ll have to pick the likeliest places to start. Let’s check in with everyone else, then I’ll have Hank get on the sat phone with me.”
Through her own headphones she could hear him contacting the other teams and giving them what little information the two of them had acquired.
“We found a couple of places where the gravel on the shoulder had been disturbed, too,” Cygny told them. “I tried to figure out what they might be looking for, and dummy me never thought of cigarettes.”
“Some of these guys must be real idiots if they’re involved in some big deal and they’re carelessly tossing cigarettes out the window. What kind of asshole smokes while transporting explosives? If in fact that’s what’s on the trucks.”
“Could be weapons, too,” Logan pointed out. “But don’t smoke around them, either.”
“Send me your coordinates,” Hank told them, “so I can mark them on the map. At least it’s a starting place. I’ll use them to try and find where in the hell they’ve hidden themselves and all these vehicles. Or at least get a direction for Paladin.”
“Good idea,” everyone chimed it.
“Let me get him right up to you now, then. Hold on.” He was gone for a moment, then, “Daks’s getting him right now. He’ll be there shortly.”
“Any idea yet what these idiots might be planning to blow up?” Melody asked. “I’ve been checking on my phone, too, and there are absolutely no patriotic events that would be a good target for these jokers. And you said the National Guard has been activated to protect any and all possible government and/or historical buildings on their radar.”
“Well, there’s one thing we somehow missed,” Hank told them. “I’ve had a whole team checking possibilities, and they found what I think the target is. It’s not advertised, for safety reason, but it’s a major event and draws a lot of key individuals.”
“What’s that?” Fay wanted to know.
“ Leadville is a gorgeous Victorian mountain town, and the nation’s highest incorporated city, sitting at an elevation of 10,152 feet. It was once one of the richest, longest-lived and bawdiest mining boomtowns in the entire U.S., with 70 square blocks of the downtown area designated as a National Historic Landmark of Victorian architecture, including the largest opera house west of the Mississippi, the saloon visited by Oscar Wilde, and two historic 1879 churches. One of the things they like to celebrate is the legalization of immigrants as they become citizens.”
“So?” Victoria’s voice came through the transmission. “A lot of places celebrate stuff like this.”
“Not the way Leadville does. The whole town takes part in the celebration. Families who have produced key politicians turn out in force, with their political stars. It’s not advertised because it paints a target on everyone, but dozens of key elected figures and powerful politicians attend. There’s lots of money in Lakeport, and they are always fundraising. They have a massive museum there with copies of every historical document that’s part of this country’s development. The vice president attends, for fuck’s sake.”
Beck frowned. “How come we don’t know about this?”
“Because if they publicize it everywhere, it makes it too hot a target for groups like the Loyalists,” Hank told her. “The people in charge as well as the town leaders have an ongoing agreement. No publicity. If the Loyalists—or a group like them—knew of it, they could wipe out a significant part of the political and financial population with one strike.”
“Well, somehow the word got out,” Walker guessed, “and that’s exactly what they plan to do. Right?”
“Got it in one,” Hank told him. “They could cut off a large pipeline of funds to politicians, wipe out people who support patriotism in this country. Cut off the money flow to them. March into Lakeport and take over the city, use it as their headquarters. Take key people hostage. Establish their power in a city they totally control. All kinds of things.”
“Damn!” Beck shook her head. “That would be a disaster.”
“To everyone but them,” Roman agreed. “Hank, we need to get moving. We need to notify Lakeport and take appropriate steps. And we need to find those fucking explosives. I want Paladin up here. Now.”
“Yes, you do,” Hank agreed. “Give me your exact coordinates, and it will be done. And I’ve got to get on the phone to a lot of people.”
“Tell us what we can do to help,” Leo told them. “Finding those explosives is going to be a bitch.”
“Amen to that,” Roman agreed.
“Okay, Paladin should be there shortly. Roman, it’s in your hands.”
“I’ve got it covered. And I’ll keep checking in. But have your troops there spread out as far as they can. I don’t want to overlook any possibilities.”
“No shit. Neither do I. Roman over and out.”