Their moods sobered as they exited the resort and Tate opened the passenger door of his heavy truck for her, another first. Guys didn’t open doors for her…ever.
He jogged around to the driver’s side and slid into the seat. “Let’s get this over with. I can think of much more enjoyable things to do.”
Lara swallowed hard to remove the lump from her throat. “Tate, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” he rumbled. “Marcus has nothing to do with anything remotely illegal or harmful to anyone. I know my brother.”
The evidence against Marcus Colter was irrefutable. The shipments had been purchased by him, and the cargo transported to Rocky Springs. It was killing her that Tate was going to be shattered, but it was unavoidable.
“I hope you’re right,” she answered simply, knowing he wasn’t, but wishing that by some impossible miracle that he really did know his eldest brother better than the FBI.
“I don’t suppose you have a key,” Lara asked Tate hopefully as she stood at the regular entrance door for the enormous new hangar that had been completed over the summer. She wrapped her arms around her body and hopped from one foot to the other to try to stay warm. The sun was out, and the day was crystal-clear after the storm, but it was bitterly cold.
“I don’t need a key.” Tate dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a jackknife, extending a portion that had several different thin metal extensions.
“You’re going to pick the lock?” Her teeth started to chatter.
He crouched down without answering and the door popped open in under a minute. “I wasn’t breaking in. I was just opening a door on my property in an unconventional manner.” Tate swung the door open and motioned her in. “You wanted in to take a look around…you’re in.” His voice was gruff as he put the knife back in his pocket.
Lara didn’t argue as she stepped into the warm, enormous space. The hangar was large enough to house several planes or a couple of private jets. Right now the main space was empty except for maintenance equipment for the aircraft.
Her heart sank as she looked at Tate’s remorseful expression. He might be convinced of his brother’s innocence, but Lara could tell it didn’t sit right for him to invade his brother’s space without permission.
He crossed his arms in front of him. “Take your look around and let’s get the hell out of here.”
There was no aircraft parked in the gigantic space, so she was able to get around the large area quickly, bypassing a few small rooms with desks, obviously small offices.
Not a big enough area for a large amount of explosives.
She shucked her gloves and put them in the zippered chamber of her ski jacket so her hands would be free, and pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans to send a text.
I’m in. Looking.
She’d called the director of her division as soon as she’d learned that she’d have access to a possible storage spot for the shipments of the explosives. Even though she was only conducting an investigation, looking for possible evidence, he’d wanted her to have backup available. There was no time to get her regular team here to Colorado from Washington DC, so her boss had connected her to a team that had been rapidly assembled and deployed from Denver. The airstrip was currently surrounded by federal officers in case she found anything during her search.
Every office was empty except for a desk, chair, or equipment storage for the planes and helicopters.
Until she reached a locked door.
“What’s in here?” she called to Tate, who still stood near the exit door.
He strode over and tried the door himself. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Judging from the exterior, it’s a pretty large space,” Lara mused.
Tate crouched again and pulled out his knife to expertly pop the lock.
“Sheesh. Don’t you guys have an alarm system here?” Lara asked curiously.
Tate shrugged as he pushed the door open. “What for? Like somebody is really going to come to the middle of the Rocky Mountains, who just happens to be a pilot, to steal a plane? And all of our employees have been with us for years. We trust them.”
Amazing. Where Lara came from, nobody trusted anybody. But she’d never lived in a small town before. And Rocky Springs was definitely remote. Their homes and the airstrip was a pretty good distance away from the actual resort.
She entered the room in front of Tate and stopped short; he bumped into her back. “Oh, God. What is all this?” Her eyes roamed around the enormous storage area.
Everything was crated, and there were too many crates to count. The gigantic storage room seemed crammed with stacked packing boxes.
“One way to find out,” Tate said grimly as he took out his knife to tear open one of the crates. “Fuck!” he rasped. The lid hit the cement floor with a loud clatter. “There’s enough C4 here to cause some major damage.”
Lara watched as Tate popped the lid on box after box, uncovering a huge collection of explosives, missiles, arms and equipment to assemble some major bombs. She blinked back tears as she pulled out her cell phone and sent a text.
Evidence found.
“It’s not possible. This is not fucking possible,” Tate raged as he continued to rip the tops off more crates.
“Tate, stop. Please.” Lara couldn’t stand to keep watching him, his torment almost tangible.
“Marcus didn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this.” Tate dropped another lid on the floor and turned to her. “He wouldn’t.”
The fierce protectiveness in his expression nearly tore Lara apart.
“I’m afraid he did and he has done it,” a masculine voice droned behind Lara.
She turned quickly, just in time to find herself staring down the barrel of several assault rifles, and at the face of Marcus Colter.
Marcus had the Colter trademark gray eyes, but they were currently emotionless, lifeless. He gave sharp orders in Arabic, mostly likely for both of them to be restrained. One thing she knew about Marcus Colter was that he was fluent in several languages, including Arabic. Her knowledge of the language was minimal, and she understood very little of what he said, but she could tell from his tone that he was issuing commands.
She and Tate were both restrained and disarmed in moments. Tate’s knife dropped to the floor, along with her own two weapons and Tate’s gun. They couldn’t make a move: several assault rifles were ready to lay them flat and bloody in less than a heartbeat.