Prologue, The Choice (Walk the Right Road Series, Book 1)

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Prologue

It was too quiet. Unnaturally quiet.

The sort of unusual quiet that happens right after a big storm rips through. But there hadn't been one-a storm, that is. This was just another sunny day, exactly like hundreds of other brisk autumn Fridays on this off-the-grid, rustic island of Las Seta in the Pacific Northwest.

DEA Agent Sam Carre squinted from the blazing sun that brightened the calm, blue sky as he walked out of the shade. From the edge of the old-growth forest, he glanced back into the heavy foliage to where he'd separated from his partner, Diane, two hundred yards back, along the hidden fence line.

This island was an absolute crown jewel to any logging company, but a nightmare for Sam's team. It provided too many hideouts, the wrong kind-the dangerous kind-along with the perfect cover for marijuana agriculture.

Sam popped on his dark glasses and cut around three parked cars. He snagged his black jeans on some thorny bushes as he hurried toward the six solid, sure-footed male agents in front of the wrought-iron gate protecting Lance Silver's secure estate.

"Nobody goes until I say so." Sam kept his authoritative voice even and his charming grin hidden as he thought about slapping steel cuffs around Lance Silver's wrists. Tonight they'd celebrate, because today they finally had all the proof they needed to bust Silver and lock him up for life. He was a dangerous and connected man who had, until now, controlled the highway of drugs flowing down the west coast and across the country, with deep ties into South America.

"What's taking Diane so long? Can she even make it over the fence?" Agent Donaldson, a junior member on the team, pulled his ball cap over his prematurely balding head. He stood with Agents Craig, Daniels, Green, Mercer, and Winters. They were suited up in their Kevlar vests and dark glasses, weapons holstered and ready to go.

Sam cursed under his breath. Donaldson was pushing it again. It'd only been five minutes since Sam's partner, Diane Larsen, climbed the security fencing, leading four agents, two of them women, into the forest behind the house. And this was after she'd disarmed the wire triggering the alarm. Sam wasn't in the mood to argue with the young agent who liked to challenge Diane's authority. He undermined everything she did, which was absolute crap. Diane, the only woman on this team with a leadership role, worked ten times harder than any of these guys. She was kind hearted and respectful-yet capable of kicking ass when she had to. She'd been a rock for Sam when he needed a supportive friend to help him keep his head together. But since she'd fallen apart at the field office-the news her dad had died after accidentally mixing up his meds had hit her hard-she'd been getting all kinds of grief, especially from Donaldson. One incident, just one time, and it was all these tough-ass pricks could remember.

Sam moved away from the gate and back into the shaded forest to see if he could spot Diane.

"That kid's really vying for Diane's spot," said Agent Green as he dogged Sam's heels. He resembled a middle child, always trying to fit in, his round baby cheeks a contrast to his quarterback shoulders.

"Yeah, well, he ain't going to get it." Sam crouched down. "Can't see anything."

Green chuckled softly. "These damn renegades love this, off the grid, wilderness. It's the perfect hideout. Nothing but a bunch of hippies, musicians, and artists live here." Green spat on the ground a few inches from Sam's black boots.

"Hard for those families raising kids here, you'd think. No electricity, no stores." Sam breathed in the clean air.

"Sam, we're inside," Diane's low, silky voice whispered over the radio.

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