“What’s your daughter’s name?” Jake asked.
She trembled, as if the mere mention of her name would break her. “Beth.”
“Do you know who has Beth?”
“It has to be Keats. He’s been after the case all along. He knows me from my hounding him a few years back and the resources I have at my disposal through the FBI. It’s gotta be him pulling my strings.”
“Keats doesn’t have your daughter,” Jake said. “He never did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Keats originally hired Voleski to steal the case. He sent him to infiltrate the company that made Ares. They’re the bastards who have Beth.”
“What company?” Snell asked.
“Blue Heron. The pharmaceutical company in Olathe linked to Young.”
The blood drained from Snell’s face, like someone sucker-punched her in the gut. The surprise melted away and fire flashed in her eyes.
“What?” Bear cringed from her like she would explode.
“Blue Heron has my daughter?” she said, gritting her teeth. “Blue Fucking Heron?”
“Yeah,” Jake said. “What do you know?”
Snell pressed her lips together, clenched her fists, and jumped to her feet. She stormed to the window, body trembling with rage. Jake thought she would punch a fist through the glass.
“Blue Heron is my miserable ex-husband’s company. Wyatt Drabek. Beth is his daughter. The son of a bitch kidnapped his own daughter.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“You inept bastards,” Wyatt Drabek spat. Stanton and Devaroux shrank like children in the plush chairs of Drabek’s office at Blue Heron. They’d lost the case, and their only leads lay dead on the floor of a strip club riddled with bullet holes. The club swarmed with cops, and the two had no choice but to get out of the area before questions were asked.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Stanton said. “You’re sure Voleski’s dead?”
Drabek’s blue eyes pierced a hole in Stanton. Combined with his gray hair, those eyes made him look like an Alaskan Huskie. The snarl on his face didn’t help.
“I’m sure he’s dead,” Drabek said, the volume of his voice ascending with each spoken word. “I’m also pretty fucking sure the case is nowhere to be found, and in eight hours there’s going to be some pissed off men of Arabic descent. Men who made a very large down payment for the case. Money I don’t have any more, and a case I can’t find.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Stanton repeated, eyes dropping to the floor under Drabek’s glare.
Drabek stepped forward, fists clenched. His lips pressed together in a white line, nostrils flaring. “Don’t say sorry to me again. Fix this.”
“How?”
“The police are holding everyone at the club including the red-head with Voleski. Chief Ware is going to take her to the police station for questioning.”
“Nice having a direct pipeline to the Chief of Police,” Devaroux said. “Don’t forget who got you those pictures.”
Drabek glared and turned back to Stanton. “I don’t know how much longer I can continue to blackmail him with those pics, so we’re going to take advantage of it. You’re going to be the one asking the girl questions in a private room with no cameras and no windows. I don’t care what you do or how you do it, but you find out who was involved in that bloodbath at the strip club and who escaped with the case.”
Stanton rose from his chair, nodding for Devaroux to do the same.
Drabek held Devaroux by the arm. “You’re going to Truman Medical Center.”
“What for?”
“I want a body near Logan. I hope I don’t have to play that card with my ex-wife, but it might be the last piece of leverage we have if things get desperate.”
“What about the cops? Isn’t he guarded?”
“You said so yourself, it’s nice having blackmail material on the police chief.”
“And the girl downstairs?” Stanton asked.
“You worry about the case,” Drabek said. “I’ll worry about my daughter.”
Stanton and Devaroux reached the office door when Drabek called after them.
“Stanton? If you don’t find the case, these guys will cut off every limb of your body with a dull, paring knife. You’ll be begging for death. You understand?”
Stanton knew who they dealt with and their capabilities. Drabek was not just angry, but also afraid. He had good reason to be if they didn’t get the briefcase. After they killed Stanton, Drabek would be next.
* * *
“Wyatt Drabek is your ex-husband?” Jake asked, trying to wrap his brain around the bombshell.
“The miserable waste of oxygen,” Snell muttered, leaning against the window frame, white knuckling the ledge.
“I thought you were investigating Blue Heron? When we met in your office busting through files, it didn’t occur to you to mention your ex-husband ran the company? No wonder you knew so much.”
“Why do you think I divorced him? Once I learned how crooked he was, I couldn’t stay married to him. The one thing that kept me from going after him was Beth. I was afraid of what it would do to her if it came out he was a cheat defrauding the federal government.”
“She’d find out eventually,” Bear said.
“But it wouldn’t be her own mother busting her father. Besides, Wyatt agreed to stay away from her if I didn’t dig too hard. It was wrong, but I backed off.”
“So, he hasn’t seen her?” Jake asked.
“A handful of times since the divorce. Still sends her birthday cards with a few hundred dollars in them, but that’s been the extent of the contact.”
“Father of the year,” Bear said.
“I’d take it over my old man,” Jake said, eyes intense as they cast to the past. Being ignored had to be better than being beaten with a pipe. “Any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”
“So why did he snatch her up?” Bear asked.
“Pure leverage on me to find the case,” Snell said, fists trembling with tension. “His security group brought Voleski into the organization. Once Wyatt found out Voleski stole the case and was working for Keats, he knew there wasn’t a person in the city who had a better chance of finding Voleski than me. He knows I never quit digging into Keats.”
“This is one treacherous triangle,” Bear said, shooting a sideways glance to Jake.
“Triangle? What do you mean?” Snell asked.
“Show her the picture, Jake.”
Jake took out the photo of Keats with Senator Young. He crossed the room and handed Snell the picture.
“I’ll bet they were all in this together,” Bear continued. “Drabek, Keats, and the Senator. Too many type As in one room. Keats gets greedy and has Voleski steal Ares right out from under Drabek’s nose. Drabek is tied to the Senator from the campaign contributions. I wonder if the Senator is playing both sides, willing to partner up with whichever of them gets the case.”
Snell paced, burning a hole at the picture with her gaze. “It could be him or one of his lackeys putting the screws to me to get to you, Jake. But what’s his angle?”
Jake huffed. “He makes a ton of money, the bad guys have a new weapon at their disposal, and he gets a budget increase to counteract the terrorist threat.”
“You really think your ex would hurt his own daughter?” Bear asked.
Her eyes fixed on the floor, and her jaw trembled. “He has his psychotic moments…it’s possible. Even if he doesn’t physically harm her, he might whisk her away somewhere where I’d never find her. He’d definitely do that just to freak me out.”
Bear’s cell phone vibrated. He wrestled it from his pocket with his good arm.
“Skirchak,” he indicated.
“Hal Skirchak?” Snell asked.
Bear held up his hand to shush her. It was a brief conversation. Bear tossed the cell on the coffee table and leaned back.
“There’s a file on Ares, but Hal can’t get to it. It was flagged as top secret by our g
ood friend Senator Young. He’s definitely tied into this.”
“Good,” Jake spat. “He can burn with the rest of these bastards when we take their asses out.”
Bear waved his thick index finger. “One other thing. Young also put a flag on a file on Blue Heron. On the same day.”
Snell tossed the picture on the coffee table. “Which explains why I couldn’t get to it. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why?” Jake asked.
“Because we’re going to go get my daughter.”
“We?”
Snell stood, fists clenched, ready for battle. The only thing she was missing was war paint. “Yeah, we. Right now. We get her and take away their leverage over me. Then we’re gonna nail those fuckers to the wall.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alim and Jalal arrived at the Kansas City Downtown airport on a twin propeller plane that Alim was convinced would not pass even the most rudimentary safety inspections. This airport was built for private flights, and they would endure less scrutiny than the Kansas City International Airport up north.
The pilot escorted them from the plane to a small hanger where he pressed an envelope into the fat palm of the man working the counter. Minutes later they were out the door where their handler waited in a black SUV. Jalal sat in the back with two other men—Fareeq and a third that Alim didn’t know. Alim had trained Fareeq himself before sending him to the United States two years ago to await orders. Fareeq had left Syria as a quiet, thin boy. He had grown, both in musculature and confidence.
“Good to see you, Alim,” Fareeq said with a nod and a smile.
“You as well, my friend. It looks like America has treated you well. Who is this?”
Fareeq ticked his head to the clean-shaven youth to his side. “Siddiq. He is most sympathetic to our cause.”
Alim frowned as he regarded the young man. There would be questions of how Fareeq came upon this young man, but now was not the time. If Fareeq trusted him, Alim would as well…for now. Alim settled in the front seat and turned to the thick, tousled-haired man in his thirties behind the wheel.
“I’m Husam,” the driver said. “I’ll be your escort. I am honored to serve.”
“How long have you been in the States?” Alim asked.
“I was born and raised here, a full-fledged United States citizen. The meeting is set for midnight.”
Alim checked his watch. “You have everything we requested?”
“At my home. We have several hours. You can rest and eat there.”
“Women?” Jalal asked from the back.
“Whatever you want.” Husam shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.
“A blonde,” Jalal said. “I want a blonde.”
“I see your tastes haven’t changed,” Fareeq said from the back next to Jalal, twirling a half-empty bottle of water. “It all looks the same when the lights are off.”
Jalal offered half a smile. “Why do I ever talk to you?”
The fourth and newest member of the team, Siddiq, said nothing. He stared out the window as they drove toward the city.
* * *
Bear grimaced as he tried to sit up. “This plan sucks.”
“You can’t go with us to Blue Heron,” Jake said. “Your color is better, but you can barely sit upright.”
“I can still kick your skinny ass, Caldwell,” he grunted.
Snell chimed in. “We need you to watch over Logan. If Voleski knew where he was moved to, chances are Wyatt’s people know it too. I’d feel better having another set of eyes at the hospital watching out for him.”
Bear’s face fell and he relented with a wave of his hand. “Fine. What am I gonna do if some doctor or nurse starts sniffing around my bloody shirt and the accompanying bullet wound?”
“Tell them you cut yourself shaving,” Jake said.
Bear glowered. He stomped to his feet and jerked a fresh shirt out of his bag. Jake helped him change and five minutes later they were out the door.
At the entrance to Truman Medical Center, Snell sidled to the curb to let Bear out. He bent over and peered in Jake’s open window.
“You going to be okay?” Snell asked.
“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Bear said. “If those motherfuckers try to lay a hand on our fair Logan, I’ll shoot them a new asshole. Take care of my boy here and watch out for yourself. Jake tends to let his partners get shot.”
“Dickhead.” Jake reached through the window and bumped knuckles with Bear. “See you soon.”
Bear tapped the top of the car. Snell accelerated from the curb and drove toward the highway.
“You think she’s at Blue Heron?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, I do. Wyatt practically lives there.”
“How would the people who work there not notice a teenage girl being held against her will?”
“He has a lab downstairs with restricted access to a handful of loyal people. He spent a fortune on security for it. I guarantee that’s where she is. You could set off a bomb there and nobody upstairs would know.”
Jake rapped his knuckles against the window. “If security is that good, how are we getting in?”
“You’ve got the keycard from the guy in the apartment, remember?”
“How do we know it still works?”
Snell’s lips drew tight and she blew out. “How do we know it doesn’t?”
Jake slouched in his seat. “Bear’s right. This plan sucks.”
* * *
Stanton halted at the curb on the opposite side of the massive white hospital complex. Devaroux’s face bathed in a yellow hue from the late afternoon sun. His stomach clenched as he eyed the entrance to the hospital.
“You going in or are you just going to stare at the building?” Stanton asked.
“I fucking hate hospitals,” Devaroux said.
“Nobody likes hospitals. Go.”
Devaroux fidgeted in his seat. “You know Drabek’s crazy, right?”
“He pays the bills, and we don’t have time to debate this. I gotta get to the police station to question the red-head.”
“He’s going to get us killed.”
“If we don’t get the case, we’re both dead men already.”
Devaroux pressed his eyes shut and curled his lips against his teeth. “We should get the fuck out of here. Just leave a vapor trail, man. Hideout in Vegas and catch a ride out of the country.”
“No dice, partner.”
“You love Vegas.”
Stanton shook his head, staring out the windshield. “Not tonight I don’t.”
Devaroux hated the whine creeping into his voice. “I got a bad feeling on this one, Tanner. Nothing’s gone right.”
“You knew the stakes when we took the job.”
“Did we? Did we know about the kidnapped girl? Did we know killer Arabs were going to cut off our dicks with dull knives? Did we know any of that? I’m tellin’ you, it ain’t worth it.”
Devaroux swore his partner’s hardened resolve melted. He pictured Stanton putting the car into drive and the two of them disappearing from Kansas City. The moment shattered when Stanton whipped his gun from his holster and pointed it to Devaroux’s head.
“I love you like a brother, man,” Stanton said. “But if you don’t get out of this fucking car and do your job, I’ll shoot you myself. You have five seconds and two of them are up.”
Devaroux’s eyes widened in disbelief before he popped the door handle and climbed out. Stanton leaned over and spoke through the open window.
“Wait for my call. If you get it, kill Logan and get out. Go to Tango’s and get a lap dance. If I’m not there by closing time, something went wrong, and you can proceed with your “get the hell out of Dodge” plan. Okay?”
Stanton didn’t wait for an answer, peeling away from the curb and disappearing into the night. Devaroux trudged into the building, the weight of the gun in his shoulder holster heavy.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Husam dro
ve the black Suburban south of Kansas City’s downtown through the tail end of the Thursday rush hour traffic to a modest, two-story home with vinyl siding in desperate need of repair. A single lane, broken concrete driveway ran along the side of the house and disappeared between overgrown bushes. Husam backed the Suburban into a tight garage and shut off the car.
“My wife and two children are upstairs,” Husam said. “My wife is allegiant to our cause, and my sons are four and two. They know nothing. You are safe here.”
Alim checked his watch. “How far to the meeting place?”
“Twenty minutes. We have several hours before we have to leave.” Husam indicated the dark sedan parked next to them. “After you have the case, you can take the car. We’ve arranged a flight leaving from an airport in western Kansas back through Mexico for you.”
Alim and the crew emerged from the SUV. Husam led the way through a door and up a rickety staircase into the house. The staircase emptied into a kitchen which smelled of roasting meat and garlic. A beautiful woman with waves of midnight hair stirred a pot in front of a stove. She bowed her head at the crew. Two boys with matching dark haircuts played with Legos at a table. Their dark eyes studied their visitors.
“My wife, Aaminah,” Husam said. “And my two sons.”
Alim ticked his head to Jalal and Fareeq who went out the two doors leaving the kitchen. Siddiq waited by the basement door. Jalal and Fareeq returned a minute later, giving a nod to Alim. The house was clear.
“We will eat, rest, and then go.” Husam spoke in Arabic to his family who carried food into an adjacent dining room. When they were clear, Jalal spoke to his leader.
“Beautiful family,” he said.
Alim nodded. “It is too bad we will have to kill them before we are done here.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Probably not, but I have my orders.”
“If I don’t get a blonde, can I have the wife first?”
Jake Caldwell Thrillers Page 42