Page 52 of Silent Past

Sheila moved closer, reading over his shoulder. The email was perfectly crafted—professional enthusiasm masking deadly intent. A location just outside the city, private enough for academic discussion. Time suggested: 11 PM.

"Letting you see it in darkness," Finn said quietly. "When the formations are most visible by lamplight."

Cooper's face had gone ashen. "It's happening so fast."

"That's good," Sheila said, though her own pulse raced with the accelerated timeline. "He's eager, less careful. Gives us an advantage. We'll go over some self-defense techniques just to be extra cautious."

"Is that really necessary?" Cooper asked, looking worried.

"Standard procedure," Sheila said. The truth, though, was that nothing about this was standard.

As she met Finn's eyes across the darkened office, she saw her own concern mirrored there. They'd expected more time to prepare, to set up surveillance and backup. Now, they had less than four hours to prepare Cooper and turn this meeting into a trap that would catch a killer.

Outside, night pressed against the windows like black velvet, and somewhere in that darkness, Whitman was preparing his next preservation. The question was: whose plan would prevail?

***

The limestone cliffs loomed against starlight like ancient sentinels, their faces scarred by shadow and geological time. Sheila pressed herself deeper into her hiding spot among the rocks, every muscle tensed as she watched Cooper's lone figure move through the darkness below. The wire he wore transmitted his breathing—too fast, too shallow, but steady enough to suggest he was holding it together.

They'd chosen to keep the FBI out of this operation. Walsh's team would have insisted on a full tactical response, flooding the area with agents and equipment. But Whitman was too careful, too attuned to the rhythms of prey and predator. He'd spot a major operation from miles away. Instead, Sheila had selected just four of her most trusted deputies, positioning them carefully around the meeting point. Finn maintained radio contact from a concealed position on the opposite ridge.

The night air carried the mineral scent of the caves, a reminder of what waited if they failed. Somewhere in this darkness, a killer prepared to add another mind to his frozen collection.

A beam of light cut through the darkness—headlights approaching along the access road. Sheila's hand tightened on her weapon as a dark sedan pulled into view, its engine dying to silence that felt absolute.

Where had he gotten this vehicle, since his Subaru had burned up? Was he just skilled at stealing cars?

"Dr. Banner?" Cooper's voice carried clearly through the wire, betraying only the slightest tremor.

"Mr. Cooper." The measured academic tone they'd heard on the phone came through faintly as a figure stepped from the car. "Thank you for meeting me so late. Some things are best observed in darkness."

Sheila could just make out their silhouettes as Banner led Cooper toward the cliff face, his flashlight beam dancing across limestone. Their voices carried clearly through the wire:

"I found something remarkable in these formations," Banner was saying. "Something that changed everything I thought I knew about preservation." His voice took on an almost dreamlike quality. "Have you ever wondered why certain cultures chose caves for their most sacred rituals?"

"Dr. Mitchell had theories about that," Cooper replied, playing his part perfectly despite the fear Sheila could hear beneath his words.

"Theories, yes. But I found proof." Banner's flashlight swept across the rock face. "Three years ago, in a chamber much like this one, I discovered him. Perfectly preserved in ice and mineral deposits. The frozen one."

Sheila's breath caught. This was it—the origin of his obsession.

"At first I thought he was just another Ice Age hunter," Banner continued, his voice taking on an unsettling intensity. "But then he spoke to me. Showed me things about civilizations lost to time. About how certain knowledge could be preserved, maintained unchanged through centuries of darkness."

Through the wire, Sheila heard Cooper's breathing quicken. "He... spoke to you?"

"They preserved their wisest ones," Banner said, moving closer to Cooper. "Not just their bodies, but their consciousness. The minerals in these caves, combined with the constant cold..." His voice dropped to an almost tender whisper. "They create perfect vessels, waiting to be awakened when humanity is ready for their wisdom."

Sheila watched the two begin moving. Almost time. They just had to wait until Banner and Cooper got a little closer, stepping into the pinch point where she and Finn were waiting opposite two other officers—

Suddenly, Banner's arm shot out, wrapping around Cooper's throat. The flash of a blade caught starlight. "I know you're out there," Banner called, his voice hardening. "Show yourselves, or he dies right here."

"Damn it," Sheila muttered. Through her scope, she could see the knife pressed against Cooper's jugular. No clean shot.

"You have thirty seconds," Banner called. "Clear out. All of you. Or we find out how quickly someone can bleed out in the cold."

"Dr. Banner," Sheila called back, keeping her voice steady. "You know we can't do that."

"Then his death is on your hands."

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