Chapter 7 - REX’S NAME WAS ON THE WALL BEFORE HE EVER CAME TO TOWN
I tore the tag from the nail.
Same serial number.
Same dent along the lower edge.
I had made that dent myself in Kandahar when I dropped the tag on a steel ramp.
“This is his,” I said.
Cole stared. “How?”
“I don’t know.”
Rex sniffed the wall, then moved toward the stairs.
Below us, a light clicked on.
One bulb.
Then another.
Then another.
A path waking up.
“Trap,” Cole whispered.
“Obviously.”
“You still going?”
“Mia’s down there.”
I descended.
The bunker opened into a long concrete corridor lined with storage rooms.
Most were empty.
One wasn’t.
Crates.
Military markings.
Medical supplies.
Radios.
Body armor.
Nothing dramatic by itself.
Together, it looked like somebody had been building a private army one stolen box at a time.
Cole opened a crate.
“Federal inventory tag.”
“Close it.”
Rex stopped at a steel door.
Scratched once.
I opened it.
Butch sat tied to a chair.
His injured arm hung in a sling.
His face was swollen.
He looked at me and started laughing.
“You came.”
“Where’s Mia?”
“Not here.”
Cole raised his weapon.
“Butch, this is over.”
Butch looked at him with pity.
“You still think you’re sheriff?”
I stepped closer.
“Who put Rex’s tag on that wall?”
His smile vanished.
“The Colonel.”
The word hit me harder than it should have.
“What colonel?”
Butch swallowed.
“The one who told us exactly what you’d do when I poured that water.”
My skin went cold.
“The diner was a test?”
“He said you’d try to walk away. Said I had to push the dog.”
“Why?”
“To see if you were still you.”
“Who is he?”
Butch’s eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“He knows your missions. Your team. Your wife. Everything.”
“Name.”
“I never heard one.”
“Then what did you hear?”
Butch leaned forward as far as the ropes allowed.
“He called you Nomad.”
Cole and I exchanged a look.
Butch whispered, “And he called Rex by his deployment number.”
A red dot appeared on Butch’s chest.
I saw it one second too late.
“Down!”
The rifle cracked.
Butch jerked backward.
The chair tipped over.
Cole fired toward a ventilation opening high on the wall.
Rex barked and sprinted into the corridor.
I dropped beside Butch.
Blood spread across his shirt.
His eyes found mine.
“He’s alive,” Butch gasped.
“Who?”
His fingers grabbed my sleeve.
“The man you buried.”
Then his grip went loose.
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