Assassin's Promise (Red Team #5)

Greer sped up, determined to catch her. Why had one of the girls from the village run away? Where was she going? He looked behind him to see if anyone was after her. They were going up a hill now. He topped the ridge and came to an abrupt halt.

A different woman—one that was flesh and blood—was scrambling down the hill, her flashlight bouncing like a laser show. She stumbled once. Greer hurried to help her, but she got to her feet and continued down the hill. They were headed toward the forest service road. When he saw her car, he knew who she was.

What was Remi doing here in the woods at night?

She hadn’t come far from her car. Standing in front of it, arms folded, legs spread, were three of the guys. She came to a full stop. Helluva welcoming committee. She flashed her light at them, then turned it on him. She stood to the side, trying to keep herself from being sandwiched between them.

“Greer? That was you?” she asked, relaxing just slightly.

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving—I’ve been here all day.”

He hadn’t seen her, but he’d spent most of the afternoon in the woods between the WKB property and the Friends’.

“I was almost to my car when I thought I saw a girl.”

“You saw her, too?” he asked.

Remi nodded. “I lost her though. I thought, maybe, she was running away. Who are these men?”

He moved closer. “Friends. Val, Kelan, and Angel—meet Remi Chase.”

She gave them a long look, then switched her attention to Greer. “Your team?”

“Yeah. Part of it, anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Scoping things out.”

“You’re on Friendship land.” She gave him an injured look. “Greer, don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Be here…anywhere near here. Please. You put all my work in jeopardy.”

“We aren’t engaging the Friends.”

She put a hand on her hip. It was dark and hard to tell, but she may have stomped her foot. “Greer Dawson, your hand’s in the proverbial cookie jar. Don’t you dare tell me the Friends aren’t why you’re here.”

“Actually, ma’am,” Angel said, “we were going to do some night fishing.”

“Want to join us?” Val asked.

“No,” she snapped, then looked at him. “This is not a game. If the Friends catch you, they’ll think I brought you here, that I’ve sneaked you in behind their backs.”

“I’ve been here on and off for a week. No one has seen me yet.”

He heard the shocked breath she drew. “So that’s it? The hell with everything I’ve worked toward? The hell with three years’ effort?”

He stepped toward her. “Bring me in.”

“No. They aren’t your enemies. They aren’t anything to you.”

“Let me see that for myself.”

“No. Dammit, Greer. No.” She moved toward her car. Angel was blocking access to the driver’s door. She glared up at him.

“Let her go,” Greer ordered.

Angel turned sideways, but stayed in her space. She unlocked her car with her key fob, then quickly locked it again once she was inside. They watched as she pulled out of the small parking lot and headed back down the long dirt road.

“Why’s your woman prowling around the Friends at night?” Angel asked.

Greer shook his head. “She’s not my woman.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Say, did you guys see her go up the ridge? How far up had she gotten?”

“About where you met her,” Kelan said. “Why?”

“Because there was someone else in the woods. She and I both saw her. A girl. I thought she was running away from the village, like most of their teens seem to. I wanted to catch her. She came straight this way. Didn’t you see her?”

“There was no one but your little professor.” Val hooked his thumbs in the corners of his front pockets of his cargo pants. “You said you wanted to give us an overview of the village?”

“Yeah. This way.” He’d had the guys come out so that they could see for themselves the layout of the village. He’d found the best vantage point, the perfect spot for a sniper, should things come to that.

Greer looked over his shoulder to the dark woods down the ridge. Maybe he and Remi had both been mistaken. Could have been the backside of a mule deer they’d been chasing. She—it—ran over the ridge right where the professor was standing. It must have darted away just before breaking out of the woods.

Then again, maybe Remi had scrambled his head more than he’d like to admit.





*





Two police cars were parked out front of the campus building that housed the University of Wyoming’s sociology department when Greer arrived the next morning.

He went up the three flights of stairs to the fourth floor. There were several small clusters of students and staff clogging the hallway. He wove his way around them as he headed toward Remi’s office. The cops were inside, one interviewing the doc, the other talking to a younger man. The doc’s office had been wrecked. Piles of books and papers spilled out of drawers and shelves, furniture was toppled, bits of broken glass crunched anytime anyone moved.

Greer drew back and dialed the team’s ops center. He could have used his comm unit, but that would have drawn unwanted attention.

“Go,” Max said on the other line.

“Someone hit the professor’s office. Looks like it happened overnight. Cops are here taking statements. Can you take a look at their cameras, see what you can find out?”

“On it.”

The cops went past him. Some of the people in the hall cleared out, following her assistant, who’d been with the professor. Greer stepped inside her office. Remi was on her knees gathering a pile of papers. She looked over at the metal filing cabinet they came from. The thieves must have used a crowbar to pry the thing open; it was completely unusable. She shook the papers free of glass fragments and looked up. Her eyes widened as she saw him there.

A dozen thoughts raced through her eyes. He felt each of them.

He knelt on the debris in front of her. “Remi—”

She shook her head, stopping him, then resumed grabbing papers.

He started to separate papers from glass, too.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

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