"I know the math, Agent Miller," I replied, glancing at the glowing blue map on my phone screen. "I’m exactly five miles behind him."
I navigated the rutted dirt road of Mile Marker 114 entirely by moonlight. The Nevada desert was a sprawling expanse of silver and black, completely silent except for the low, steady growl of my engine. Ahead of me, the massive silhouette of the old state maintenance yard rose against the horizon—a cluster of towering corrugated steel sheds and a high chain-link fence topped with rusted coils of barbed wire.
Through the gaps in the perimeter fencing, I saw the distinct red glow of Cole’s taillights. He had parked his cruiser deep inside the yard, cutting his engine next to a towering mound of industrial road salt.
I pulled the Ford behind a crumbling concrete retaining wall about two hundred yards from the main entrance, cutting my engine before I even came to a complete stop. The silence of the desert rushed back in, heavy and absolute. I unclipped my seatbelt, easing my door open just enough to squeeze out without engaging the rusty interior hinges that I knew would squeal and give away my position.
"I'm on foot," I whispered into the earpiece, feeling the immediate bite of the freezing wind through my flannel shirt.
"Copy," Miller said instantly. "Keep your phone's camera ready. I need clear visual confirmation of the recipient."
I moved through the thick sagebrush, carefully planting my heavy boots to avoid snapping the dry, brittle twigs. My left knee screamed in violent protest with every step, the cold air settling deep into the old bone spurs. I forced myself to swallow the pain, locking my jaw. I reached the perimeter fence, pressing my back against the freezing steel mesh, and peered through the diamond-shaped gaps.
Cole was leaning against the hood of his cruiser, looking at his watch. He wasn't alone. A heavy, black county SUV was parked opposite him, its engine idling so quietly I hadn't even heard it running. The driver's side door clicked open, and a massive, broad-shouldered figure stepped out into the moonlight.
He wore a pristine tan uniform, gold stars catching the faint ambient light on his collar. It was Sheriff Vance. The man who had run the entire county with an iron fist for fifteen years.
"Miller," I breathed, keeping my voice barely above a whisper, pressing my lips near the microphone. "It's Vance. The Sheriff is here."
"I hear it," Miller said, his tone instantly shifting from clinical calm to electric urgency. "Get the photo, Walter. If Vance touches that money, we have him on federal racketeering. The whole department falls tonight."
I pulled my phone from my breast pocket, my right hand trembling violently now. The adrenaline was dumping heavily into my system, a familiar but unwelcome chemical fire that made fine motor control nearly impossible. I rested my forearm against the steel tension wire of the chain-link fence, using my entire body weight to physically lock the joint in place. The screen stabilized. I zoomed the lens in tightly on the two men standing between the vehicles.
"You got it all?" Sheriff Vance asked, his deep voice echoing slightly against the aluminum siding of the salt shed.
"Thirty-two hundred, just like he promised," Cole replied, reaching deep into his uniform pocket. He pulled out the thick stack of bills. My money. Sarah's money. He didn't divide it. He handed the entire stack directly across the hood to Vance.
Vance took the bills. He didn't even bother to count them. He just ran his thick, calloused thumb over the edge of the green stack, nodding with arrogant satisfaction. He shoved the money into his own breast pocket, securing the button.
I tapped the capture button. The phone silently snapped a rapid burst of six high-resolution photos, instantly uploading them directly to the federal server over the secure cellular line.
"Got it," Miller confirmed in my ear, letting out a sharp, audible breath of relief. "It's done, Walter. The bait was officially taken, and the chain of custody is established. We have the Sheriff. Fall back to your truck immediately. Do not make a sound."