Page 13 of A SEAL's Protection
I scan the area on my approach, but there are no footprints in the soil, which tracks with the sensors not going off. It could have fallen down on its own, but my gut tells me there’s more at play here.
I run my fingers over the edge of the panel and find a nick in the frame. I doubt Allegra, with all her resources, would come out with less than perfect supplies.
The nick has a sharp edge to it, like a stone has hit it. I scan the earth and, sure enough, there’s a rock in the dirt by the fallen panel. It’s about the size of a baby’s fist with jagged edges. Big enough to do damage.
I glance up and scan the surrounding area. We’re in the forest. There’s nowhere this could have fallen from unless it was thrown.
This isn’t some random idiot. Whoever did this is getting bolder, and they know about the sensors. They’re smart and bold. The worst combination.
I stand up, and there’s a dull ache in my back and shoulder. I roll the shoulder a couple of times, pressing down on the old wound.
The high altitude and chill in the air bring my old aches to the surface. But I’m trained to keep going in discomfort, and I do that now, compartmentalizing the ache and focusing on the mission.
Allegra comes out of her tent holding her laptop and stops still when she sees me. Her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think she’s going to chuck her laptop at me.
“Morena,” I greet her cheerfully in Maori, thinking her curious nature might break the ice, but instead she puts one hand on her hip and waits, presumably for me to leave.
But I’m not retreating today. Whether she likes it or not, it’s time to find out exactly what I’m dealing with.
“What exactly are you measuring out here?”
She stiffens, and I can see the retort forming on her lips. “That’s none of your business.”
I don’t want to scare her. This could all be a coincidence. It could have been an animal tripping the sensor on the first night, and the wind could have pushed the solar panel over, causing the nick. But my gut tells me it wasn’t an animal, and it was the stone that caused that nick. And stones don’t just fall out of the sky.
“Did that solar panel have the nick in it when you set it up last night?”
Her eyebrows pull together. She’s curious despite herself.
“No.”
“If it’s broken, then you’ll be wanting to borrow mine, and if I’m going to be lending my supplies to the research, I want to know what I’m helping to fund.”
I keep it light, not wanting to scare her.
She huffs out a long breath, and her gaze sweeps over me as if she’s measuring me up.
“I’m collecting field data to measure mineral levels in the mountain’s water sources.”
Her tone is clipped and factual, and her eyes flick downwards. She’s not telling me everything.
“And why are the mineral levels important?”
She huffs out a breath and eyes me warily. Then she steps forward and plants herself in her camp chair. She’s broken the ten feet rule, but I don’t mention it.
She opens her laptop and pulls up a file, then swivels it around on her knee to show me. I step closer so I’m over her shoulder and catch the scent of chamomile. It must be coming from her hair. Chamomile shampoo.
I peer at the document on the screen, unsure of what I’m looking at. The title says “Green Report.”
“It’s an environmental report on the local area.” She scrolls through the document, shaking her head slowly. “But it’s all bullshit. No one’s done the research to actually test if the current mining is doing any damage.”
Her voice gets stronger as she talks, more determined. This isn’t just an academic exercise for Allegra; she cares deeply about this work. She’s not just some spoiled rich kid with science as a hobby. She cares. And someone’s sabotaging her work, not because of who she is, but because her work matters.
I turn slowly and scan the forest. If what she says is true, then this just got way more complicated. “Does your father know about this?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not stupid. The fewer people who know what I’m doing, the better. He thinks I’m collecting water samples to determine which areas stoneflies spawn in.”
The corner of one lip tugs up.
