“Yes,” Marco said. “He told Thomas to stay by his phone.”

“They are already booking a private charter to Seattle.”

Ryker’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“How many men?” Ryker asked.

“Four, including Vance,” Marco said. “They are bringing heavy equipment.”

“They think they are going to a quiet liquidation,” Ryker said.

“They do,” Marco said. “They have no idea we are waiting.”

Ryker stood up, his tall frame blocking the light from the kerosene lamp.

“I am leaving now,” Ryker said.

“Marco, meet me at the Yakima staging area at four o’clock.”

“I will be there,” Marco said.

Ryker ended the call and slipped the phone into his coat pocket.

He reached for his heavy oiled-canvas jacket hanging by the door.

I walked over to him, my boots clicking softly on the pine floor.

“Be careful,” I said.

He stopped with his hand on the iron latch of the heavy wooden door.

He looked back at me, his face half in shadow.

“Keep the bolts slid on the door,” Ryker said.

“If anyone else approaches this cabin, do not hesitate.”