A dry buzzing sound issued from Haas’s pack. He walked over and pulled out a sat phone. He paused and listened. Beecher watched him carefully. Haas scratched his chin with a well-manicured finger.
“Anything?” Beecher mouthed.
Haas shook his head. There was a pause as Haas listened. Then, he smiled and said, “They found kimberlite … lots of it and now they’re looking for the pipe.”
Beecher picked up the binoculars and focused on the ridge across the valley. A speck moved above it. He adjusted the lenses and saw the drone circling the Anasazi cliff dwelling. As he watched, its right wing exploded and the drone winged over, spinning toward the ground.
A gunshot from the ridge split the silence.
Haas dropped the sat phone into the pack and pulled out a pistol with his left hand. His other
