'They're probably halfway up the hill by now."
"Let's take a look." She brought down the focus, then began scanning.
"Hold on." He stayed her hand, bringing the mouse to halt, and then pointing to the lower left corner of the large screen. "Didn't something move just then, right there?"
"Where?"
There." He took the mouse and guided the image to center screen. "Where is that in the real world? It's got to be close."
She zipped the mouse again, bringing up the detail. A number scrolled at the bottom of the screen. "Four hundred meters, to be exact."
9:59 p.m.
As Moreau emerged from the last copse of cypress, he scanned the mountain, towering upward in the moonlit night, and wondered where the bastard would be holed up. There was one obvious place—in the cinderblock control house.
Yeah, ten to one that's where he had to be. The guy was stupid, riding a lucky streak. It was over.