“But if we take the car up, it would make noise,” Martinez countered. “Talk about announcing your arrival.”

“Bert, if we go up on foot, we’re out in the open without any protection.”

“There’s plenty of coverage. And we have weapons. We’re fine unless he lobs a grenade or has land-mined the place. Even then, we can call in for backup if the situation gets bad.”

Decker broke in, “We’re not here to initiate anything. That means no raids no matter how easy it looks. This is just a lay-of-the-land kind of thing. Then we call for backup. What concerns me is taking Jacob up there on foot.”

“You need me,” Jacob said.

“I know that—”

“I’m not worried.”

“That’s the problem. You should be.”

“Okay, then, I am worried.”

Decker tossed him a look. Jacob tossed him back a smile. “How about some code names—Caleb and Joshua?”

“You’re way too cocky, guy!”

Jacob grew serious. “I want to redeem myself.”

Decker held his stepson’s cheek. “There’s nothing to redeem.”

But Jacob didn’t believe him. “How about if we walk up a couple hundred yards, and I’ll see if I recognize anything. How much trouble could that cause?”

“Plenty,” Decker said.

“First off, even if I find the place, Ruby may not even be there. Secondly, what’s the point of being so close and not getting it perfect?”

“Your heart stays beating.”

“You’re just worried about Eema.”

Decker smiled. “True, but that’s not the entire picture.”

Martinez said, “Let Tom and me go up and have a look around. You can stay here with him—”

“But you don’t know what to look for,” Jacob said. Without asking, he got out of the car. Decker dogged him immediately, grabbed his elbow. Then he put his finger to his lips. He whispered, “We turn back when I say so.”

Jacob nodded, his chest tightening, his breaths rapid and hollow. The other two emerged, Martinez holding the flashlight as the quartet inched their way up the turnoff. It was nothing more than a rut cut into dense brush. Insects twittered, owls hooted, coyotes ululated.

Fifty feet up.

Towering trees framed both sides of the road. The geography resulted in limited vision: it was hard to see anything that stood behind the leafy skyscrapers. The sky began to lighten, having turned from charcoal to steel as the moon began to rise, a semicircle of silver light.

One hundred feet.

Their footsteps were measured…deliberate, largely silent except for the accidental scrape against the ground. Any noise that they made was muffled handily by nighttime animal sounds.

Two hundred feet.

Martinez kept the light localized and on the ground, not wanting to give their presence away by inadvertently shining a beam in an unseen building window. The disadvantage was that he couldn’t spot anything in the brush-covered mountainside.

Three hundred and fifty.