Killing Game (Veritas Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

hands. When Brannon had tried to gain an assurance he’d be meeting Ellers, he had been told to just follow orders and it’d all work out.
    As he’d driven north from Jacksonville, the armored truck robbery was still on the news, though so far his name hadn’t been connected with it. His mother would be appalled if she ever learned her eldest son was a criminal, even in the pursuit of justice. Still, to Ellers and his cronies, Brannon was the perfect recruit, an anarchist leader’s wet dream: a former Army Ranger who was a pro with explosives and had experience as a sniper. Both of those skills could easily be turned against a government that the “sovereign citizen” types hated.
    There were a number of right-wing militant groups, including those associated with Posse Comitatus, a movement that believed no law-enforcement official above the rank of sheriff was legitimate. To show their defiance, they often refused to file income taxes or obey federal laws. Some even printed their own driver’s licenses. Others were affiliated with the League of the South, a white supremacist group, or the Christian Identity movement, which held that Jews ran the financial institutions and were working with Satan to destroy civilization.
    When these people decided to break the law, they were usually heavily armed and had the capacity to inflict maximum body count. No matter their beef with the government, in Brannon’s mind, these guys weren’t any different than the Taliban or Al Qaeda, and he’d had plenty of experience dealing with those bastards. Now that he was out of the Army, it was time to use his expertise and do some much-needed housekeeping stateside. If he’d wanted armed insurgents roaming the streets, he would have stayed in Fallujah.
    As he turned off the car, his cell phone rang. “Hardegree.”
    “It’s Sanjay. I’ve got mixed news,” Veritas’s chief data analyst replied, his Mumbai accent clipped.
    Sanjay was one of the go-to folks for information and often served as the point of contact for those currently on a mission. If the intel was on the Internet or tucked away in some computer database, he would eventually find it. It was like a cyber game of hide-and-seek to him, and he was incredibly good at it.
    “The FBI is going ballistic because of the robbery,” Sanjay continued. “Best you complete this mission before they figure out you were part of it, because our boss isn’t sure he’ll be able to shield you if you’re arrested. His contact in the D.C. Bureau office has suddenly grown skittish about our involvement.”
    “Affirmative,” Brannon said. Dammit .
    “We finished the background check on the tour operator you’ll be meeting today. Mike Montgomery is a former Marine with an excellent service record. He’s married, three adult kids, has been conducting the tours since he retired two years ago. Financials are solid.”
    “Any sympathies with anti-government groups?”
    “Not that we can find. His assistant, Preston Taylor, isn’t as clean. He’s spent some time on a few of the sovereign citizen forums. Mostly, he comes across as a wannabe. Lots of talk, no action.”
    “Let’s hope he stays that way.”
    “Montgomery conducts his registrations by snail mail, not online. It really screws up what intel I can get for you up front.”
    Brannon grinned at the annoyance in Sanjay’s voice because it was a rare thing. “Sounds like the man is a Luddite, or paranoid.”
    “Probably a bit of both. If you can get me pictures of the campers, I’ll run facial-recognition software, try to figure out who is who.”
    “Consider it done.”
    “How often do you intend to check in?” Sanjay asked.
    “Every ten to twelve hours, provided I have phone service. You don’t hear from me after twenty-four, something’s wrong.”
    “Good. We’ll monitor the tracking chip.”
    “At least you’ll know where to send the body-retrieval team.”
    “Let’s not joke like that, okay? You may be the