Critical Density

by Desiree Holt

  “This one just blew up in our faces. We had our story ready, our asses covered, then Modell somehow just disappears. We better find her before this blows up any more.”

  “I’m worried about Henry. He’s worse than an old woman with this shit.”

  “He’s getting exactly what he wants. Give him another drink and tell him to shut up. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

  “Not even for a damn second. We spent too much time putting this together, and we have too much on the table for the future.” At that moment, his cell rang. He looked at the screen. Ed Fletcher. “This could be good news,” he told the Conductor.

  “Let’s hope so.”

  “Yeah, Ed?”

  “We had to be lowkey about this, you know, because…”

  “Yeah, yeah, because we didn’t want to send off any warning signal. Let’s have it.”

  “We sort of hit pay dirt in a bar not far from the hotel where we had the woman stashed.”

  “What do you mean sort of?”

  “We finally connected with the bartender who was on duty that night, He thinks he recognizes Modell. Said she was sitting next to someone he’d never seen before and he thought they’d just met there in the bar.”

  “And?” Diesel hated it when people strung out bits of information.

  “And after a few minutes of chitchat, they shared what he called a hot kiss.”

  “A hot kiss? I’m not interest in their sex life. Did she know him? Did the bartender tell you that?” Diesel ground his teeth. Jesus. What is it with people? And Ed Fletcher was one of their best.

  “Said it looked to him as if they’d just met when she came in. But then, a few minutes after the kiss, she left with him.”

  Diesel rubbed his head. “Unbelievable, but she found someone who, for whatever reason, decided to help her. Do you think she told him what was going on?” That would be a barrel of shit.

  “Hard to say. The bartender said she was only in there for fifteen minutes or so. Maybe she’s a lot hotter than you think and she got the guy to take her to a motel.”

  “I don’t think sex was what she had on her mind,” he snapped.

  “Even if it got her out of the area and maybe a willing helper?”

  Diesel thought for a moment. Men often thought with their dicks, so that was possible. He couldn’t afford to ignore it.

  “That’s it?” It’s fuck all. That didn’t get them anything. They had to find this guy. “Didn’t anyone know his name? What about a credit card receipt?”

  “Nada. Paid cash.”

  “Well, hell.” That couldn’t be the end of it. “And he’d never been in there before?”

  “Uh uh. But there may be something.”

  “You stringing me along here, Fletcher?” He was getting so frustrated with the man that he wanted to pound nails. Or maybe pound him.

  “Nope. Just telling it like it happened. Like I said, I did manage to get one clue.”

  “Well, fuck, Fletcher. Talk about burying the lede.” He took a swallow of his now cooling coffee and made a face at the bitter taste. “So give.”

  “The bartender said he did overhear him chatting with another person at the bar before our problem showed up. He thinks the guy is a pilot. That he flew into Houston for some kind of quickie job and now he’s gone back to base, wherever that is.”

  “You got a description of him?”

  “I did. My team and I are going to start hitting the Fixed Base Operations. There are seven airports in the Houston area, so we’ll get to it.”

  “Don’t forget to show her picture around.”

  “What am I, stupid?” Fletcher snapped. “How long have I been doing this?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. A little uptight here, you know? Get going.”

  “Already on the way. We’ve split up to cover more at one time. I hope to have something by late tonight, depending on how many flights left in that time period from Fixed Base Operations. I hope we hit pay dirt, because it’s a lot simpler than trying to figure if someone snuck onto a commercial flight. Okay. I’ll be back to you.”

  When Diesel disconnected the call, he relayed the information to the Conductor.

  “Well,” the other man drawled, “at least it looks like we’re getting somewhere. I realize it’s still a big haystack where we’re searching for the needle, but at least it has more of a focus.”

  “Yeah.” Diesel snorted. “It’s smaller all right, but I bet the list of cities to check is still pretty damn long.”

  “Wonder what she told the guy she met at the bar to get him to leave with her? Maybe she just offered a night of hot sex in exchange for getting her out of there.”

  Diesel barked a laugh. “Not Hannah Modell. I’d bet an ice cube is warmer than she is. She probably sleeps with her drones.”

  “You’d better hope not. We’ve made some adjustments in them that no way in hell do I want her to figure out.”

  “Like the changes in the GPS programming.”

  “Exactly.” The Conductor rubbed his jaw. “This is the last time we’ll be able to do something like this exactly this way. That’s the risk in taking a high-profile contract and trying to dump the blame. It’ll take a damn long while for the media buzz to die down.”

  Diesel shrugged. “We didn’t have a choice. There was too much on the line here.”

  “I’m well aware of that. The key now is to clean up the mess before the committee elects a new chairman. And without leaving any trace.”

  “We can do it.” I hope.

  * * * *

  Hannah was glad that Peyton had come over in the afternoon and talked her into hanging out on the dock again.

  “Don’t leave the property,” Viper ordered, after giving her a hot kiss.

  “Not to worry.” Hannah actually laughed. “I have no desire to go anywhere while I still have a target on my back.”

  “That was some kiss,” Peyton said in a low voice. “I guess I don’t have to ask how things are with you guys.”

  “I’m almost afraid to accept how good they are. What if—” She stopped.

  “What if what? Hannah, you can What If yourself to death, but let me tell you. When one of these guys makes a commitment, even in a very short time, it’s a done deal.”

  “I hope so, because he’s…incredible.”

  “And it’s obvious he’s staked his claim on you,” she teased. “That’s how Blaze was.”

  “Well, thanks for coming over today. I’m going stir-crazy in the house. All the guys are busy, Viper included, digging into Lowden Tactical to see what threads they can pull. I’ve told them everything I know, which isn’t a lot. I guess I must have been deaf and blind working there. I just thought it was a great company that had interesting contracts both from the government and private industry. It was exciting and energizing, especially when I discovered I had a real aptitude for programing and flying the drones.”

  “And I want to hear all about it. I am so jealous.”

  “Jealous? You? The famous author?”

  “Well, maybe sort of semi-famous,” Peyton joked.

  “Well, I do need to get out of Viper’s way for a while. Leave him alone so I’m not distracting him.”

  “I don’t think that plays too well with him.” Peyton grinned.

  “Oh, I know.” She smoothed back her ponytail. “He’d be happy if I sat glued beside him every minute I’m not sleeping, but I can’t do that. For one thing, he has work to do, digging into my stuff. For another, I’m too itchy to sit still and do nothing. I know those guys are looking for me, and I promise you, they don’t give up.”

  “And I promise you Galaxy is working to make sure that doesn’t happen. But I know where you’re coming from.” Peyton heaved a little sigh. “I get that. Been there, done that. At least while they were out doing their thing, I was sitting with my sister. Focusing on her.” A shadow swept across her face.

  “You said she’s doing well?” Hannah asked.

 
A smile replaced the shadow. “So well. Better every day. She’s struggling to deal with Dane’s death, but she’s determined to honor him by living life as he wanted her to. On that note, she’s really getting back to her photography again.” She studied Hannah, head tilted. “I know she’d love to do some shots of you. How about if I bring her over here tomorrow, in the afternoon? I mean, if that works out.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Hannah blew out a breath. “Lots of tension in the air right now. And I’d hate it if seeing what the guys are doing brought back memories of her own tragedy.”

  Peyton shook her head. “She’s spent some time with them off and on, and if anything, she’s especially grateful to them for finding Dane’s killer and the person who nearly took her life. Besides, this will be a good way to ease that tension, especially for you. I hate to say it, but you could use a little light-hearted diversion. I mean, besides hanging out on the dock with me.”

  Hannah nibbled her bottom lip. “I guess.”

  “Come on. It’s impossible for you to get away from the house right now, but this could certainly take your mind off things. I know she’d get some great shots down by the water.”

  “Anyway, I’m sure she has other things to do,” Hannah protested. “So do you. Aren’t you working on a book? By the way, I downloaded one this morning. It looks great. I can’t wait to wade into it.”

  “Oh! Thank you. That’s really nice of you. But I am happy to send you the files.”

  “You work hard on your books. You deserve to get paid.”

  “Anyway, no, I’m not currently working on one. My most recent one is with my editor, so I have a little break.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I am so in awe of you for being able to do that. What talent.”

  Peyton laughed. “Talent? Oh, Hannah, you’re the one with the talent. I couldn’t begin to understand what goes on in that fantastic brain of yours.”

  “Yeah. So talented I let myself be set up to take a fall for something I didn’t do.”

  “Listen.” Peyton took both of her hands. “You never saw it coming. How could you? And it could happen to any one of us. You know all about the crazy lady who killed my brother-in-law and almost killed my sister. I guarantee neither of them saw it coming. So, no finger pointing allowed. Come on. Let’s get some cold drinks and go sit where we can enjoy the scenery.”

  * * * *

  Diesel was in his office when his cell phone rang. He saw Ed Fletcher’s name on the screen and hurried to close his door. Only one other person—the Conductor—knew that he’d had the room soundproofed. There were things he discussed inside the room, both in person and on his cell, that he did not want anyone else to hear. This was one of those times.

  “This better be good news. We’re running out of time.”

  That was the fucking truth. Henry had called an hour ago to let him know they had a deadline with the upcoming appointment of a new chair for the Senate Armed Service Committee. And again, all the maneuvering they’d done to make sure Henry was at the top of the list and practically a shoe-in could not be allowed to go to waste.

  “We’ve got three possibilities,” Fletcher told him. “And before you complain about three being too many, let me tell you it took a fucking lot of work to get to that point. People do not like to give out information about customers or clients or whatever they hell they are.”

  “But you got them to tell you this. How do you know they aren’t lying?”

  “Is this the first time I’m doing this?” Ed snapped. “We’ve been working our asses off on this, by the way, and narrowing things down faster than I thought we’d be able to. We managed to eliminate all the FBOs except the one at Hobby. But then getting anyone there to give us info proved to be the hardest. They are very protective of who flies in and out of there and we nearly came up dry.”

  “But you got it?” Diesel snapped. “Tell me you did. Christ, Fletcher, we need a lead.”

  “Of course we did. Do I ever give up?”

  “No, you don’t.” And thank god for that. “So what’s the result?”

  “Okay, then. Here’s where we are. We have narrowed it down on good information to three target cities. New Orleans, Atlanta and Tampa. These are the three locations which information we pried out of people indicates as the logical destinations. We eliminated all the others listed at the FBO, and let me tell you again, it was next to impossible. These people do not like to give out information, no matter what.”

  “So how did you get it?”

  “One of my guys knew a mechanic who works there who’d do anything for money. But even with cash in hand, it took some coaxing. He could easily get in trouble with the FAA, and the people who run the FBO at Hobby practically demand confidentiality. They’d lose a lot of business if they gossiped about their customers. But this guy did identify the picture of your drone engineer. Sort of.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means there were three women who all resemble her. He couldn’t decide which one, so we got the names of the cities the three of them flew to. One of them will bring us the jackpot. I’m telling you, they could be triplets, they looked so much alike.”

  “I just hope this isn’t a fucking wild goose chase,” Diesel grumbled. “We’re about out of time.”

  “I’m telling you,” Ed insisted, “it’s one of them.”

  “At least they’re all in the same general area of the country,” Diesel pointed out grudgingly. “Not that it matters much, I guess. But, Ed? Those are damn big cities. How the everlovin’ fuck are you going to find her, especially if she’s hidden away somewhere? And who could be hiding her, anyway? The guy from the bar? Would he get this involved with a stranger?”

  Ed sorted. “If she’s a hot piece of ass, he might.”

  “Except everything we have on her says she has no contacts or connections outside of Houston. And no personal relationships.”

  “Well, somehow she talked this guy—or someone—into giving her a ride out of here, and I got a description of each of the planes. I can’t get to the specific plane without the registration number, which I can’t get without other information. But I am working every angle I can. We’ll even hack the manufacturers to see who bought the plane, but that will take time.”

  “Which we don’t have,” Diesel pointed out. “So how are you going to find it, for god’s sake?”

  “I’ve got the model of each plane that our target might be on. I’m confident it’s one of the three the guy told us about. He swears this is Hannah Modell and that she definitely got on one of these three planes. Once we get to those cities and check the FBOs there, find where it’s hangared, we’ll be in better shape.”

  “And the tail registration numbers?”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “I’ll have to dig a little harder for those. Once I manage to locate the plane, we’ll find out who owns it. I’ve got enough info to make a visual identification once we locate it. I know it sounds complicated, Diesel, but we can do it. Just keep your britches on.”

  “Easy for you to say. It’s not your ass on the line.”

  “Yeah, well, like I said, keep your britches on and your ass will be covered. Let us do our job.”

  Diesel ground his teeth as he reached for control. “So when do you head out?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m spending some more of your money to field three teams instead of one. That way we hit all the cities at the same time.”

  Diesel nodded to himself. “Smart. Okay, get going. And check in regularly.”

  “Will do.”

  He disconnected the call then punched the speed dial for the Conductor.

  “We have a possible lead,” he told the man.

  “Only possible?”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. We’re lucky we have anything, under the situation.” He gave the other man what he’d learned from Ed. “We’ve got three teams on it.”

  “It’s still like looking for a needle in
a haystack,” the Conductor reminded him. “And time is getting short.”

  “Yeah, I know. Henry says others on the committee are doing exactly what we expected—pushing for the president of the Senate to appoint a new chairman right away. We have to get all the other loose ends tied up before that happens or Henry could drop to the bottom of the list and fuck everything up.”

  “Then get your damn ass busy. And tell Ed there’s a fat bonus if they find the woman within the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Will do, although I think they’re already highly motivated.”

  “Just keep me in the loop.”

  Diesel disconnected the call and sat back in his chair. How the fuck had he misjudged Hannah Modell so badly? He’d been positive she’d be cowed by the whole incident and easy to handle. Stash her in the hotel, convincing her they were protecting her. Then tell her they were moving her to a secure location until the rest of the dust settled. Then make her disappear forever. They could blame everything on her because she’d never be around to defend herself.

  But everything had gone wrong because some macho flyboy had decided to play hero. Well, they’d get rid of him, too. Meanwhile, he had work to do here, managing this mess and still running the operation.

  Chapter Twelve

  Viper could tell that Hannah was exhausted, emotionally more than physically. Being with Peyton was good for her, but the uncertainty and danger hanging over her were taking their toll. He was amazed at the strength that had kept her together so far, but everyone had their limits. He certainly knew that. What she needed was some TLC that would help her relax and hopefully get a good night’s sleep.

  Peyton was staying in touch with Senator Franz, Rocket was plugged in to what Tom Hernandez was doing, and Eagle and Blaze were monitoring everything else. He knew he had things to be working on, but Hannah’s state of mind was more important. He figured a full body massage would be just the thing to soothe her frazzled nerves.

  Remember. This is therapy, not sex, so keep your dick in your pants.

  That would be the hardest thing. Next to said dick, of course. But he had years of discipline he could use to keep his shit together. The important thing was to get Hannah to relax so she didn’t shatter. She wasn’t a weak person, by any means, or she would never have survived the past two weeks, especially the last couple of days. But this kind of stress would affect anyone.