Beck's Six

“They left,” Rusty told him.

“Left? What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. They’re gone. The couple on the motorcycle, the dog, the guy in the pickup. They just rode off.”

Vern frowned. “Which way did they go? Up or down?”

“Up. Toward the peak.”

Vern thought for a moment. “We don’t have eyes on the road on the other side, and we’re past the point where we can send anyone over there.” He shook his head. “Fuck. I should have thought of that before, but I didn’t want to risk any additional exposure for us. Pardon the analogy, but we’re kind of between a rock and a hard place.”

Stryker walked over from where he’d been studying something on his tablet.

“None of us expected any of this,” he assured Vern. “We’ve been planning this for five years, looking for just the right situation and gathering everything we need. Making what we thought were foolproof plans. But, Vern? We’ve learned nothing is foolproof. What’s that saying? Always expect the unexpected.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Look at it this way. Even if we all get killed because this thing got fucked up but the event goes on, we will have made a statement that will last forever. There are others who can pick up the mantle and carry on. And no one will ever forget us.”

Vern managed a smile. “Damn straight, and thanks for reminding me. Okay, let’s outline this thing. It will be dark before we know it, and we have to be ready.”