Page 19 of Out of the Shadows

“We have a couple different outdoor tactical survival classes. The one we offer to the general public is pretty straightforward—fire, shelter, food.”

“Nope,” Bean said, shaking her head at Bennett Wilson. “There’s nothing straightforward about any of that. I’m going to need you to expound a little, my friend.”

It wasn’t a lie. Strolling next to the man, they couldn’t have been more different. Wilson looked like the stereotypical former military outdoorsman in his black quick-dry short-sleeve top, shitkickers, and olive-green tactical pants with full pockets. On the opposite side of the spectrum, she donned a slouchy black-and-white striped T-shirt, a pair of teal Converse, and her favorite black Lululemon leggings with her phone and ChapStick in the pocket.

When she’d arrived at the Hudson Tactical facility that morning, Wilson had taken one look at her, shaken his head, and muttered something about the half-mile trail loop. Not that she was complaining. Not at all. The last thing she wanted was to go on any sort of multi-mile nature trek with Rambo.

She walked slowly, knowing Wilson was too much of a nice guy to force her to pick up the pace. It wasn’t that her head was hurting or anything, it was that she was—as much as she didn’t want to admit it—terribly, terribly out of shape. Her colleagues were all avid outdoorspeople, so she’d heard about this trailhead and how it split. One way circled the base of the hill, the other went up. Straight freaking up with some switchbacks thrown in.

No, thank you.

“Right, forgot who I was talking to for a second,” Wilson said with a chuckle. “All right, desk jockey. We focus on making fire without matches, creating shelter—including clothing and blankets, if needed—from available materials, locating water, identifying edible plants, making tools to hunt, along with how to hunt and make traps. Also, using materials”—he waved at the forest surrounding them—“for basic first aid supplies. Splints, tourniquets, bandages... That kind of thing.”

She blinked. Holy crap. None of that sounded like a good time. “And thenotstraightforward class?”

“It’s part of the Hudson Tactical program and geared mostly toward law enforcement types, but we do get a number of search and rescue crews as well. It includes everything I just mentioned, plus more in-depth survival skills.”

“That sounds lovely and all, but...” She made a circular motion with her hand. “I’d like ‘in-depth survival skills’ in regular words, please.”

“We teach various ways of evading capture, escaping a hostile environment should you find yourself captured, defense, and weapon creation.” He glanced around, and a gleam lit his dark eyes. “There are tons of weapons to be had out in nature.”

“You’re talking about booby traps and stuff.”

“Yeah. And stuff.” He shot her a wink. “We also work onfirearm safety because this type of environment is different. We do low-light no-light training, but we save that for last.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because if they don’t get everything down first, no way in hell are we trusting people with weapons when it’s dark, Simunition rounds or not.” When she tilted her head in confusion, he clarified, “Non-lethal bullets that are basically like paintball rounds.”

She stared at him for a moment, absorbing all the info he’d spewed. “Not going to lie, Wilson. All of that kind of freaks me out. I mean, aside from all the”—she waved her hands in front of her—“stuff. What if someone gets lost during the training?” Because she’d one hundred percent be that person.

He flashed her a grin. “That’s exactly why you should take the class. That way, thestuffand the possibility of getting lost won’t freak you out. You’d be prepared for whatever happens. Also, this entire area is monitored with game cams. All of Hudson Security’s property is fenced in.”

She frowned. “I thought the game cams only monitor the property boundary lines?”

“They used to, but we added a shit ton more a couple months ago. Frazier probably didn’t mention it to you since cyber already monitors the feeds, and you have bigger shit to deal with. Besides, the perimeter security fence has pass-through points.” He chuckled when her frown deepened. “There are areas of the fence that allow wildlife to pass through without injury. With the additional cameras, we no longer have blind spots, and the pass-through points are heavily monitored with giant, obvious cameras. So if anyone ever gets lost on our property or enters without permission, we’d be able to find them. See? Safe. So what do you say? Can I sign you up?”

“Thanks, but desk jockey, remember?” She tapped herchest with her finger. “As pretty as all this nature stuff is, I havezeroplans to be hanging out in the great outdoors. I’ll be fine.”

Wilson began walking back toward the trailhead. “Hey, you never know, Bean. What if the helo you’re in goes down?”

She scoffed. “The only chopper I’m in is being driven by Owen?—”

“Flown,” he cut in.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But if the helicopter I’m in goes down—withOwenat the helm—then we’ve got much bigger problems than the wilderness. Because we’ll be in tiny, itty-bitty pieces.”

Wilson laughed. “Point to you.”

“Exactly. The only way Hadley Owen—one of only three female Night Stalker pilots our country’s produced—is going down is if a missile or something equally crazy happens.”

“Still, you should try it. It’s actually lots of fun. We have a regular survival class this Saturday you could join. Frazier did say you were going to sign up.”

She knew she was looking at Wilson like he’d grown a second head. She couldn’t help it. “Frazier’s delusional. And so are you if you think?—”

“Hey, that’s just what I was told.” He held up his hands in mock innocence.

Bean’s cell phone rang, and she’d never been more grateful. “Oh, would you look at that! We’re back in cell phone range.”

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