Snatched

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Snatched Page 5

by Michael Arches


  Unfortunately, as it said on the front, Some assembly required. No shit. Luckily, she’d brought a small toolkit just in case.

  While she tried to understand the directions written in barely decipherable English, Beau kept asking her about the Durango area. The guy was a talker. Couldn’t seem to shut up for anything.

  She was tempted to ask him to be silent, but she didn’t want to piss him off. And he was the only cop who seemed to give a damn about the pregnant women and girls. So, she put together the drone using half of her mind while she answered his questions with the other half.

  Eventually, Beau reached the hill where she’d last seen Rico’s Suburban. He pulled over in the same turnout she’d used the day before. She explained in great detail what’d happened yesterday.

  After she finished, he asked, “You got that dang thing workin’ yet?”

  “Not sure. I didn’t dare turn it on inside your rental. The thing might’ve destroyed itself, me, or the SUV. Let’s take it out and give it a test flight.”

  After a few seconds of fiddling around, Athena was sure she knew how to use the controller. Tech always came easy. People came hard.

  She started the flying machine and sent it into a vertical climb. They watched on the controller’s screen while they shrank in the distance. It soon was hard to hear the whirring blades over the traffic noise. “Seems to be working fine,” she said.

  “It’s fantastic. You got quite a knack with gadgets. I never would’ve figured it out. Can’t use most of the features on my phone. Let’s go search the area around Rucker’s place. Maybe we’ll spot that Suburban back in the trees. And remember, chère, you can’t trespass. That thing’s gotta stay over public property.”

  Although she nodded, she doubted she could tell where all the property lines were located. And she wasn’t going to worry too much. She was a private citizen, not working for the Bureau. That meant she could get away with lots of hinky shit Beau’s bosses might crucify him for. Athena commanded her new contraption to return to the earth, and she stowed it in the SUV.

  Beau drove to where Rico’s SUV had seemingly vanished. He parked in a turnout near Rucker’s driveway. She prayed the son of a bitch wouldn’t show up. They couldn’t hide because they had to remain on or next to the county road.

  Unlike out along the highway, this deep green pine forest was eerily silent. She sent the drone vertical again, and she could hear it whirring a hundred feet up. That meant everybody else in the area could hear it, too. Not ideal, so she ordered it to climb higher.

  Finally, when it’d gained four hundred feet in elevation, she couldn’t hear it anymore. Athena flew the drone along the road, using its camera to explore the three properties nearby that she hadn’t seen already. On the closest parcel, a man drove an ATV through the trees, dragging a log behind. His small shack contained a shiny metal roof. Next to that building, a matching garage sat empty with the doors open. Neither structure had a tan roof like Jackie’s map had described.

  An adjoining property included a brick house and a metal garage. No signs of life there. No buildings large enough to house over forty women and girls, but Rico could’ve hidden his SUV in that garage yesterday.

  The last property Athena was interested in contained a large house still under construction. Its concrete foundation had been poured, and few walls had been built, but no roof. No storage structures on site. A bust.

  She brought the drone back down to conserve its battery life.

  While she’d been flying the drone, Beau had been typing on a laptop. She said, “Hey, no property here is a likely prospect for a private prison, but Rico could’ve stored the Suburban in one garage.”

  She pointed at a metal gate fifty yards away that lead to the second property she’d studied. “It’s back in the forest a few hundred yards.”

  “What did you learn about the owner in your research?” he asked.

  She checked her file of printouts from the Assessor’s office and the DMV. “Ferdinand Gomez. His property tax billing address is Guadalajara, Mexico. Obviously quite a ways south. This must be a summer place or an investment property.”

  “We don’t have enough for a warrant to enter the property and check the garage,” Beau said.

  Athena agreed. “Even so, I think that’s where the Suburban went yesterday, and it might still be there.”

  Beau walked down the county road to the driveway. She followed. When they got close, she realized Gomez happened to be deadly serious about his privacy. The gate consisted of thick metal rails welded together. The chain locking the gate was stouter than most. They’d need heavy equipment to break in.

  Echoing her thoughts, Beau said, “God Almighty, he’s gotta be hidin’ somethin’ damned important in that house or garage.”

  “Should I sit outside this gate until someone shows up again?” Athena asked. “I swear I won’t approach them alone.”

  He shook his head. “Could be days or weeks before anyone shows. I brought along a motion-activated camera. I’ll set that up and let it do the waitin’.”

  He grabbed a camera from the SUV and stepped into the trees directly across the county road from Gomez’s driveway.

  Once that camera was working, Beau and Athena drove back to the main highway. She’d found lots of ranches in the area that might include a private prison. To her surprise, Beau was happy to carry out her plan for investigating the target properties. Despite his quirks, he was turning out to be a terrific partner. So much more pleasant and helpful than Costello.

  As soon as they passed the road construction project on US 160, they turned right on the first side road. One possible compound Athena had found with Google Earth was located a mile back in the forest at the end of this particular road. The investigation was finally making progress.

  -o-o-o-

  US 160, Northeastern La Plata County

  Five hours of fruitless searching curbed Athena’s enthusiasm. On the plus side, they had yet to check five potential prison sites.

  Another big plus was that as she continued to work with Beau, she warmed up to him even more. He talked enough for both of them, but his life had been filled with plenty of interesting experiences, both as a cop and as a soldier. Best of all, he remained mellow and friendly without flirting. Quite a guy.

  At each of the target sites, Beau found a turnout somewhere on the road nearby. She hopped out of the SUV with her cane, removed the drone, and launched it. Using the controller, she sent the flying machine four hundred feet up before getting back inside the vehicle. That way, they were less noticeable, and they could study the subject property on the controller’s screen together.

  When they arrived at their next destination, the next to last in La Plata County, Athena removed the drone from the SUV, as usual. But before she could launch it, a county sheriff’s SUV wandered by. The twenty-something deputy driving the vehicle stopped in the middle of the road then gently eased into the turnout.

  Beau hopped out of the SUV and whispered into Athena’s good ear, “Let me handle this.” His voice was firm. “We’re just a couple of idiots playing with your new toy. And we’re old college friends from CU. I’m Beau Dubois. We reconnected yesterday because I’m in the area to visit Mesa Verde.”

  Athena nodded. It was a decent cover story. At least, the Feeb could think on his feet.

  The deputy exited his vehicle and walked around the drone. His nametag said Deputy Albert Jackson.

  “Whatcha got there?” he asked.

  Beau waved, all friendly. His voice turned full Cajun. “Jus’ little somethin’ we picked up for fun.”

  Too late, Athena realized both she and Beau were wearing concealed weapons.

  The deputy nodded and continued to circle the machine. He looked relaxed and curious rather than nervous. Which made sense. Technically, they weren’t doing anything wrong, but Athena had hoped they wouldn’t run into any local cops. She hadn’t forgotten Jackie’s warning ab
out problems with the sheriff’s office.

  Jackson didn’t seem to be in any hurry to drive away. “How’s it work?”

  Beau nodded at Athena, so she launched the machine into a vertical climb.

  The deputy seemed more interested in the display than the drone itself. “Quite the camera you got there. I can see us real good.”

  He paused and frowned, as though switching gears. “But you know what? Here’s the thing. We’ve been getting reports from residents today about a drone flying over their property. And we’ve had a few break-ins over the last month.”

  Athena’s mouth went dry.

  “Oh, no, we ain’t no robbers,” Beau said with a chuckle. “Chris jus’ bought dat thang yesterday. Got a receipt. An’ we been real careful. Stayin’ over the road. Can’t get enough of this boo-coo purty country.”

  “Yep,” Jackson said. “That it is. But I’m gonna need to see some ID. And while you’re digging it out, I’d also like to see your permits for the hardware you’re packing. Gentleman first. Move nice and slow.”

  Fucking wonderful. Athena doubted Beau had either a fake ID or a concealed weapons permit. Federal law enforcement agents didn’t need state permits to carry a weapon.

  “Not a problem,” Beau said with a grin. “Jus’ getting’ my wallet, deputy. All nice-n-easy.”

  He moved his right hand very slowly to the right rear pocket of his jeans. She had to hand it to him. He was selling the good-ol’-boy routine like their lives depended on it. Maybe that was the case.

  After extracting a thick, alligator skin wallet, Beau flipped through a slew of cards. Handed one to the cop. Then he found what looked like a driver’s license. Held that out, too.

  Jackson took both and stared at them for a moment. Didn’t comment, but his whole body relaxed.

  Beau was full of surprises. Athena slowly blew out a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible.

  “How about you, ma’am?” the deputy asked.

  “My purse is in the SUV.”

  The cop motioned for her to get it and followed her to the front passenger door. She hobbled there and found both documents in Christina Nielsen’s name and turned them over. The address on her driver’s license wasn’t current, but she didn’t mention it.

  Jackson strode over to his vehicle and sat inside for a few minutes. All the while, the drone hovered high above them, out of sight, and Athena hoped, out of mind.

  Finally, the deputy returned and gave back their documents. “Have a great day and remember to keep your flying machine out of private airspace.”

  Athena nodded.

  Beau grinned. “Ca c’est bon! Good meetin’ ya.”

  The cop waved halfheartedly and drove away.

  As soon as he vanished, so did Beau’s grin. “Son of a bitch! Can’t believe they made us so quickly. At least, we’re almost done in this county. Check this place out, and let’s go before Jackson comes back with more questions.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Athena said.

  Within a minute, she figured out that the ranch a hundred yards away wasn’t a viable prison. Its only large building was an open-sided shed full of hay.

  -o-o-o-

  Athena directed Beau to the last few possibilities on her list, but they struck out everywhere.

  “Can’t understand how I’m screwing up,” she said.

  “Don’t think you are, chère. You just need to expand your search area. Or, maybe, that Google Earth aerial photo you’re working with is too old. If somebody came in and built a dormitory a year ago, that satellite image wouldn’t show squat.”

  “Yeah, tonight I’ll expand the search area, and I’ll check for more recent aerial photos. By tomorrow morning, we should be able to head out again.”

  “Sounds mighty fine. And although most gov’ment offices are closed now, first thing in the mornin’, run by the county building inspectors. If I have time, I’ll talk to local food wholesalers, too. Feeding so many women and girls takes plenty of chow.”

  “I doubt the assholes have their supplies delivered,” she said. “That would be too easy, but you might be able to figure out who’s paying for things and picking them up.”

  His clear thinking and positive attitude were such a comfort. Thank God, she wasn’t constantly bickering with Costello.

  When they arrived in Durango, Athena was exhausted. It’d been an emotionally exhausting day.

  Beau asked, “You care to have dinner together?”

  For the first time, she thought about the possibility of some kind of friendship. But she needed time alone to recharge your batteries. “Sure, but can I get a rain check? I’m just beat at the moment. I can give you a few suggestions you can try that wouldn’t bust your budget.”

  “Thanks for those suggestions. We’ll postpone dinner until another time.”

  When he dropped her off in front of her apartment building, he promised to pick her up in the morning at nine a.m. Athena heated up a TV dinner and settled in front of her computer.

  After a couple of hours of research using more recent satellite imagery and over an expanded search area, she came up with seventeen new potential prison sites. Then, she hit the sack. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.

  -o-o-o-

  Misha’s La Plata Compound

  At ten p.m., Misha remained in his office, struggling with a dozen loose ends related to the big move. His most recent hassle was finding more guards for the new operation. He preferred mercenaries to local thugs, but most private soldiers were already fighting wars in distant lands. And the few who weren’t thought they deserved an enormous bonus up front. That would cut substantially into Misha’s profit.

  He was still making up his mind when Steve Maddox, the sheriff’s chief deputy, called. “Hey, Misha, interesting new development. Somebody’s snooping around your area using a drone. A guy and gal claiming to be out enjoying the scenery in the foothills when the really spectacular mountains are farther north.”

  That didn’t make sense to Misha either, but there was often no accounting for taste. “Regular people, not law enforcement?”

  “So they say. Drone lovers are everywhere these days. Thought you might want to know.”

  “Exactly. Did you check the two out?”

  “You betcha. Get a pen. The guy’s supposedly from Louisiana, and our deputy says he had a real thick accent. The woman lives in Durango. I had to run down a current address for her. The one printed on her license is out of date.”

  The cop had been quite helpful and more than once. After he provided the addresses and sent an email with their pictures, Misha said, “I really appreciate you watching out for us. I’ll take care of you, very soon.”

  They hung up, and the email came through. It included photos of two people Misha had never seen before. He ran their names through his database of FBI and Colorado Bureau of Investigation agents. No hits.

  But that was just the beginning. He performed an electronic background check on each, pretending that they’d applied for jobs.

  When he reviewed the reports, his tongue tingled. Neither had a financial or employment history three years ago. The names were almost certainly fake.

  He pulled out his walkie-talkie. “All staff, report to my office immediately.”

  Chapter 7

  Misha ground his teeth because his guards took forever to arrive. Reliable criminals were so damned hard to find.

  Rico was the last to arrive, as usual. He was well past his Best-if-used-by date. Misha pushed that problem out of his mind for the moment.

  After summarizing what he’d heard from Maddox and discovered on his own, Misha handed out a printout of both license photos. “Do any of you recognize these two?”

  Everyone shook their heads…until the page reached Rico.

  “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Saw her day before yesterday, not him. She was wearing a Broncos cap pulled down low on her face. Her hair was black, not brown
. At the gas station store. Right when Mia was screwing around. I knew something was hinky about her and Jackie.”

  “Fuck!” Misha said. “One of those bitches must’ve talked to her. She’s looking for us, using a drone. Leo, take Rico and Stan and head to Durango. Grab her. The guy is probably with her, so bring him, too. But don’t leave until one a.m. We want them asleep when you arrive.”

  The three men nodded.

  “Also, bring back anything in her apartment that might help us figure out what they’re doing,” Misha said. “I mean computers, pictures, files, phones, any of that shit. Be as quiet as possible, but put them down if you have to. Don’t leave anything behind that might incriminate us.”

  -o-o-o-

  Now comes the worst part. Misha took a few deep breaths and downed a tumbler full of Craigellachie, a thirty-year-old single malt scotch, before calling Langer’s encrypted line. A man had to grab for the simple pleasures whenever possible.

  Delivering bad news was never pleasant, but delaying just made things much worse. The boss was two hours ahead in New York City, so probably already in bed. God willing, his secured phone might be turned off.

  But Langer answered on the first ring. His voice was cold and grating. “This can’t be a social call. What’s wrong, Misha?”

  He explained the situation with Jackie, Mia, Christina Nielsen, and Beauregard Dubois.

  When he finished, Langer said, “Obviously unsettling news. Our privacy is under attack. We must accelerate our plans. The bus will be at your compound tomorrow morning, as early as I can arrange it. I’ll update you when I know the precise time. Be sure you have everyone ready to depart as soon as the vehicle arrives. I will also send my rapid response team. They should arrive earlier. Pack only what will be essential to our ongoing project and destroy all other records.”

  “Exactly as you wish, sir.”

  The line went dead. The boss was pissed, but he hadn’t been clear about his intentions. In particular, Misha wondered whether one of the RRT’s tasks would be to take him out. If so, the time to run was now. But that would mean giving up the opportunity to earn forty million bucks. Misha stayed to organize the move.

 

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