Adam was silent, thinking it over. “Maybe,” he said. “It’s possible.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Cynthia Joseph’s body was staged. Artifacts from the museum were stolen. The kind of offender you’re talking about wouldn’t bother with either of those things.”

“You’d know more about that than me. I can tell you that Gibbs has a history of harassing women, especially young women. Nothing major, nothing serious, he’s just obnoxious and persistent.”

Adam scowled, possibly at the notion of obnoxious and persistent harassment not being serious. “Maybe,” he said again, but he still sounded skeptical. “Here’s another theory. Gibbs noticed the woods were crawling with law enforcement and jumped to the conclusion we were here for him.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed, considering this theory. “Maybe.”

“Paranoia is part of the profile.”

“That could be true. You’ve also got to admit that this is a pretty big coincidence.”

“I wouldn’t call it a coincidence. I’d call it cause and effect.” Adam handed back the field glasses. “If Gibbs is the shooter, he’s got a sniper tower set up somewhere along that treeline.”

Rob trained the glasses on the mature trees overlooking the slope leading from the valley plateau to the forest slopes below. As he watched, he caught a metallic glint in the branches of a tall stand. Sunlight on a gun barrel. “Good call. Ten o’clock high.”

“One or more shooters?”

“Looks like just one. I can’t be sure.”

“It sounds like one. Any movement from below?”

“Negative. That doesn’t mean they’re not on their way.”

“True. How do you want to handle it?”

Rob said slowly, “He’s not going to stay up there forever. He’ll be coming back to earth even if it’s just to rearm. More likely, he’ll dig in for a siege. I say we get down to that cabin and wait for him.”

“Hm.” Adam frowned.

“We could end this fast and without anyone getting hurt. He won’t be expecting us. And we’ll have a chance to look for Tiffany.”

Adam’s face jerked to his. “We don’t have a warrant to search that cabin.”

“We have probable cause. He’s up there shooting at law enforcement. How much more probable cause do we need?”

“I’ll tell you what we don’t need. Another Ruby Ridge.”

Rob had been eleven at the time of Ruby Ridge. He barely remembered the details. What he did remember was that government agents had overstepped, and presumably innocent people had died. Adam would have been about the same age, but apparently Ruby Ridge was a sore spot with the FBI.

“This is not the same situation. I mean it’s not parallel.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Adam. “If we do end up trying to prosecute Gibbs for Joseph’s death—after we barge in there without a warrant—you know as well as I do that anything we find will be inadmissible.”

That was true. Adam was looking at the bigger picture. That was probably the FBI way. Rob said, “You know what? If we can save that kid’s life, I don’t care about the rest of it. I’ll deal with the rest of it when I get there.”

“Rob…” Adam rubbed his fist against his forehead.

“Listen to me,” Rob said. “We could wait for a warrant, and in the meantime Gibbs is going to barricade himself in that cabin. Maybe with Tiffany trapped inside there with him. Or maybe he sits up there in his sniper tower, and we sit here waiting for everybody else to get into position, and then KPD trots a trained negotiator up here to try and chat with him for a few hours. Or maybe a few days.”

Adam shook his head. He was weakening, though, and Rob kept talking. “From what I know of Gibbs, I think we’re looking at a lengthy standoff, and eventually, either way, we’re going to have to shoot him or tear gas that cabin and go in after him. Unless he kills himself first—and anybody else in there with him.”

After a moment, Adam said, “Do you have a plan or are we just going to break a window and climb inside to wait?”

Rob raised the field glasses once more and studied the cabin. “My plan only stretches to us hightailing it down there and intercepting him on his way back to the cabin.”

“On his way to the cabin or inside the cabin?”

Rob lowered the glasses. He looked at Adam. “We play it by ear.” It wasn’t as reckless as it probably sounded to Adam. One or two guys who knew what they were doing could get into that cabin and take down Gibbs before he ever knew what hit him. Maybe it wasn’t the way they’d do it in the FBI. It wasn’t protocol, but Adam wasn’t running this case. He’d said himself that he and Russell were there to offer support and backup as required. And what Rob required was…he met Adam’s intense, dark gaze…probably unfair to ask.

“Does Gibbs live alone? Do we know for sure there aren’t other occupants in that cabin?”

“Gibbs is a loner. If there is anybody else in there, it’s Tiffany.”

Adam shook his head though it was unclear whether he was denying the possibility that Tiffany was in the cabin or Rob’s plan in general.

It was a tough one for him. Rob could see that. He already knew Adam well enough to know Adam preferred protocol. Fair enough. Protocol existed for a reason. But bad guys didn’t play by the same rules, and with or without Adam, Rob was going in there and getting Gibbs.

He didn’t say that though. He didn’t try to pressure Adam. And not only because he suspected that it wouldn’t go over well.

Adam said reluctantly, “The kind of blitz attack that you’re considering could be the best bet in a situation like this one. Gibbs won’t be expecting it. Neither will anyone else. We’ll be on our own, and if anything goes wrong, one or both of us is liable to end up dead.”

In other words, it was a hell of a chance to take on a guy you barely knew. Rob continued to watch Adam, waiting for him to decide.

Adam sighed. “Okay.”

Rob’s eyes widened. “Yeah?”

Adam scowled. “Yeah. Affirmative.”

Rob grinned and put a hand over his heart. “Agent Darling, I think I may be in love.”

Adam made a derisive noise. “If Gibbs is half the survivalist nut you think he is, he’s probably got that place booby-trapped. You do realize that, right?”

“Yep.” Rob shoved his field glasses into his backpack. “Don’t fall over any tripwires.”

“If I do, you’ll be the first to know,” Adam said darkly, and Rob laughed.

They did the last twenty yards on their bellies, and those three minutes were the longest of Rob’s life. Halfway across the wide clearing that formed the firebreak around the cabin, he started thinking about what would happen if Gibbs looked behind and spotted them. This slow motion crawl made them sitting ducks. Sweat broke out on his back and shoulders, and it was all he could do not to rush, even though he knew movement would be the most likely thing to catch Gibbs’s eye. What really scared him though was the belated thought that he might get Adam killed.

That blue and gold FBI jacket did not look like any kind of vegetation in this neighborhood, and somehow the fact that Adam had voluntarily put himself and his goddamned jacket in mortal danger made it worse.

But then they were safely behind the cabin and back on their feet. There was an armload of wood on the low deck running the length of the building, as though Gibbs had been bringing in firewood when he’d noticed the search party working its way up the mountain.

“What kind of vehicle does Gibbs own?” Adam asked, hands braced on his knees as he caught his breath. The crawl across the firebreak had not been fast. It had been strenuous.

“A pickup and a snowmobile.”

“He’s probably got them garaged in one of those outlying buildings. We need to make sure he doesn’t get to them.”

Adam straightened, lifted his foot to step onto the deck, and Rob caught his arm. “Look.” He pointed to a nearly invisible strand of wire running along the edge of the  deck. One end was fastened to a nail. The other was threaded through a stack of rusted pie tins perched casually on the far end of the deck.