Page 67 of Edge of Danger

“Why?” she asked.

“The quiet, I suppose. Night creatures aren’t out yet, but the day creatures have all headed for home. It’s peaceful.”

“You strike me as the type to enjoy a hot firefight rather than a bucolic twilight.”

“I’m deep. I’ve got layers, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re an onion. Layers and layers of smelly onion.”

He chuckled low so the sound wouldn’t carry. There was no wind to rustle the leaves and disguise any sounds they made out here. “We’ll wait till everyone’s asleep, and then we’ll stroll inand take a peek. If you want to catch a power nap, I feel pretty good.”

He leaned back against a mossy tree trunk and peered down at the soft glow of kerosene lamps shining from the PHP cabins. It didn’t look like a terrible life these people lived. Although, he didn’t see how they paid for things like food, clothing, and basic supplies. Maybe that was the purpose of the shop.

Why would a commune of back-to-basics freaks radicalize out of the blue? While he tried to imagine what had changed the PHP, it started to rain. Piper scooted further under the tarp he’d rigged like a porch roof overhead. He gathered her against his side, and she snuggled in, more asleep than awake. She was warm as she threw an arm across his middle. Comfortable. The two of them fit one another.

Physically, at least. She was secretive and prickly when she was fully conscious and carried around a hell of a chip on her shoulder. She didn’t need to. She was good at her job, and other than needing to dial back the risks she took, a decent surveillance operative. If he had a year to train her, he could turn her into a top-flight operative.

Rain pattered down on the plastic tarp, and full night settled softly around them. It was most relaxed he’d been since he’d spotted a sniper scope staring back at him on a rooftop in Khartoum. Which was odd, given the crisis they were up against. Piper had that effect on him when she wasn’t driving him crazy.

He let her sleep for almost three hours before waking her gently with a kiss at her hairline. The rain had stopped, and the last light had winked out in the compound. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he murmured. “It’s almost midnight. By the time we make our way down to the fence, it’ll be time to rock and roll.”

“I’m telling you. This is a bad idea.”

“Honey, this is what I do for a living. I slide in and out like a ghost. No noise, no fuss, no one the wiser that I’ve been there.”

“Don’t underestimate these guys—“ she started.

“It’ll be fine.”

She huffed and rose to her feet. “Lead on, General Custer.”

He grinned and gave her a hand signal to zip her lip and head out. She wasn’t a trained infiltrator like he was. This stuff was his specialty, however.

The first dog to bark a short, sharp warning was rewarded immediately with a nice chunk of steak, and more importantly with the bone that would take the beast an hour or more to gnaw through. Ian waited for Kujo to get completely engrossed in his treat before moving onward, right up next to his target building.

What the hell was Piper so tense about? These guys had no roving night guard, no electronic security, and a dog. Piece of cake?—

Oh, shit. A pack of a half-dozen dogs rushed around the corner without warning, barking their heads off. Working frantically, he threw out steaks so everybody could have something to chew on. They had maybe ten minutes before the dogs finished eating and loud doggie arguments started breaking out over the bones.

He signaled Piper to follow him fast. He moved to the big garage door in the back of the metal building. The padlock was an annoyance, but he picked his way through it soon enough. They had maybe five minutes to look around and get out.

Tension radiated off of Piper out of all proportion to this simple little B&E. Was she really that inexperienced? What had her boss been doing sending her to Sudan to watch anyone?

He oiled the tracks of the door as high as he could reach on both sides with a can of lubricant. He eased the door open about eighteen inches and signaled her to hold it for him. He laid down flat on his belly and took a look inside. Small tires in a tricycle configuration made him frown. No tractor had wheels like that.

More to the point, he didn’t see any boots or signs of humans inside. He signaled an all clear to Piper and rolled under the door. He held it for her and waved her inside, as well. She stood up while he eased the door back down to the ground.

He made a quick circuit of the big, open space. It was ringed with tools, spare parts, and a general layer of grease that declared it a shop. But what he couldn’t make sense of was the small, high-winged airplane sitting in the middle of the space. What did a bunch of folks like the PHP want with anairplane?

Piper looked thunderstruck as she trailed him around the space. When he’d determined the building was clear, he muttered, “Does this compute?”

She shook her head emphatically in the negative.

“Have they got an airplane mechanic among them?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“They working on it for income?”

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