Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2)

by Stella Barcelona

  Zeus had to assume they’d eventually figure out Cox wasn’t Barrows—because only Barrows had his unique capability for data analysis and computer programming. Uncovering the fake could take hours or days. When they did, they’d kill Cox. Which made it necessary for them to extract Cox as soon as Ana and Leon were safe. By then, Zeus would likely be dead—because if the goal was to kill him, there was no reason to keep him alive. Zeus had insisted that no one attempt to rescue him until Cox was safe. Hence the thing that Gabe and Sebastian had suggested—which Zeus had put off for as long as possible.

  Time’s almost up.

  “Cox, Leon—we’re fifteen minutes from departure.” Zeus drew a deep breath. “Last chance to head for the hills.” He managed a forced, strained smile. Never let them see you sweat. “I’d understand if you changed your minds.”

  Leon glanced at him. Five years in Black Raven and on her way to being one of the elite agents called in for high-risk jobs. She’d excelled in her work, aced every test ever given to her, and had recently completed a harrowing survivalist course with eleven male agents. She gave him a slow shake of her head, in character as Theresa. Speaking with the forthright, but frightened tone that Theresa, a high school teacher used, said, “No, sir. Won’t happen. I’m honored to be a part of the team that rescues your little girl. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  Cox, looking like an uncanny resemblance of Barrows—from the blue eyes to the salt-and-pepper hair, to the absentminded glance he gave Zeus, said, “Sir. I echo Leon. Besides,” he lowered his voice to the tone used by Barrows, with a slight Northeastern accent, “I absolutely live for operations like this.”

  “Thank you. Both of you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” Leon said. Cox gave a nod of agreement. They resumed their tasks—Cox, stepping into the jumpsuit he’d wear for the jump, and Leon, pinning her shoulder-length black hair, cut to look like Theresa’s, back before putting on her helmet.

  Theresa still had her head buried on her knees. Barrows, pecking at his laptop, gave Zeus an absentminded nod and continued typing, his narrow-eyed focus directed solely at his laptop screen. The seeming absentmindedness of the genius was something Zeus had gotten used to in the last year. Blue-eyed, with salt-and-pepper, thinning hair, Barrows had mostly recovered from the torture he suffered at the hands of James Trask. He still walked with a limp in his left leg, though—compliments of the sick, sadistic Trask. Even though he hadn’t been in the public eye after the kidnaping, and it was unlikely the perps knew about the limp, Cox had perfected an imitation of the man’s gait.

  Upon arriving at the airstrip, Barrows divided his time between his laptop, the wall-mounted monitor that showed his son-in-law, Sebastian, and Cox. Agent Cox had been Barrows’ shadow, giving himself a crash course on mimicking the eccentric genius.

  When Barrows had heard the terms of the demand, he insisted on accompanying Zeus to the DZ. Everyone else in Black Raven who had a voice—Zeus, Sebastian, and every partner in the company—had insisted that he not. Barrows’ work was too important, they’d reasoned. Jigsaw, and a host of other projects that now relied on the genius’s cyber-capabilities, would be crippled without him.

  Barrows glanced at Zeus and said without preamble, “Jigsaw gives the probability of the death of Maximov as early as 2007, as Vladimer Stollen claimed in his interview today, a high probability of eighty-two percent. However…it matters not.”

  Matters not? Zeus knew where Barrows was going, but the leap of logic was a big one. That Maximov could be dead, as Stollen had claimed in the interview, was earthshattering.

  Ragno and Gabe had given Zeus the details of the interview. After telling Sam and Judge O’Connor that Maximov had died in 2007, Stollen had explained that he took up the reigns of the Maximov-In-Exile organization from 2007 to 2009. Stollen claimed to know where Maximov’s body was buried in Praptan, because Stollen had buried him. Sam had pressed Stollen for more details. She’d explained that authorities weren’t likely to believe his claim that Maximov was dead, since Stollen had not told authorities of Maximov’s death in 2009. Stollen had insisted to Judge O’Connor and Sam that he did previously tell authorities of Maximov’s death.

  He’d also told them where they could find Maximov’s body. With Stollen’s information, there was only one thing to do. Gabe was now mobilizing for the trip into Praptan to see if Stollen was telling the truth.

  Barrows continued, “Even if we recover Maximov’s remains, we still need to figure out who is, and who has been, pulling the strings of the cells claiming to operate on behalf of Maximov. Jigsaw is now assessing the parameters of the kidnaping. The dropping of a body on a life raft in the Atlantic Ocean, the logistical difficulty of transporting a child from Coconut Grove, Florida, to the desert of Chihuahua, and constructing tunnels of the scale that Ragno is now placing on the map, and…”

  Zeus nodded as though he was listening, but tuned Barrows out. Black Raven’s most valuable asset tended to ramble things to the Denver-based analysts that made no sense to people who didn’t have innate knowledge of cyber-jargon, algorithms, and statistics. Even when not addressing intricate details of Jigsaw, Barrows’s thought processes were often a distraction, when—like now—every second mattered.

  In the final fifteen minutes, Zeus would prefer to focus on agent deployment, strategic use of assets, firepower, and whether to trust any goddamn thing that Blaze—with Protectors of Peace—told them.

  Zeus and Sebastian had struck a deal with the devil.

  West Texas was the birthplace of the Protectors, after all, and the bordering land of Mexico was also part of their claimed gangland territory. It was the reason why Zeus had searched out Blaze within a minute of reading the instructions left with Agent Martel.

  “Sebastian, Zeus, I’ve managed to integrate Protectors of Peace intel,” Ragno said. “It isn’t particularly encouraging in terms of pinpointing likely geographic locations where Zeus and Cox will end up. Whether Blaze’s information will lead to rescuing Zeus and Cox—”

  “Wrong order, Ragno,” Zeus interrupted. “Cox first. Before me.”

  “Understood. Well, whether the intel from the Protectors will lead to us finding you after Ana and Agent Leon are in the fold, or whether it is yet another distraction, is anyone’s guess.”

  Zeus stared at the twisted, worm-like maze that was now appearing in 3-D on the map of West Texas and Eastern Mexico. Subterranean tunnels? Cutting through West Texas, snaking under the border, and into the Chihuahuan desert?

  Ragno was using the map to highlight the intel that Blaze had provided in terms of a likelihood that the subterranean routes would be used and coordinating that intel with information obtained through Jigsaw.

  If the TRCR were the ones who had Ana.

  If they planned to utilize the tunnel system.

  If Blaze’s information was accurate.

  If Blaze could be trusted.

  For fuck’s sake. There are way too many goddamn fucking ifs and the first if is if my daughter is still alive, because there was no goddamned contact info on Martel’s body, there was no way to demand proof of life for Ana.

  The father in him felt growing fear and wrenching heartache that his baby girl might very well be dead, and this was all an elaborate trap to capture Barrows and take Zeus out of the picture. A win-win for whomever had snatched Ana. To them, a child would be an inconvenience.

  There is just no reason to keep her alive. Unless they know what Black Raven stands for. Unless they knew they’ll be hunted to the ends of the earth and their bodies chopped with a dull knife to chum-sized pieces if they dared to cross the line and kill a child of a Black Raven agent.

  Oh God. My baby girl.

  The Black Raven agent in him ignored the terror and dread, and focused laser-like on all the information, and variables from the information, as the data rolled in. If Ana was dead or alive didn’t change what had to be done in the next few hours, because someone had picked a really big fight, an
d Black Raven would rise to the occasion. This bully needed to be stopped. There was no going back. No second-guessing the decision to follow the kidnappers’ instructions.

  Zeus forced himself to listen to Ragno.

  “We’ve known of tunnels along the U.S./Mexico border for years, but what Blaze is telling us about far exceeds any intel we have. And he claims they’re all utilized by the TRCR. Safe to say, if we don’t succeed in rescuing you quickly, it could be days before we find you.”

  “Ragno. Sebastian,” Zeus said. “Keep in mind that for all we know, Blaze and his Protectors of Peace are the perps.”

  “Understood,” Sebastian said.

  “I’m not so sure,” Ragno said. “If so, this would be the first time the Protectors have shown an affiliation with Maximov or the ITT. Also, I’ve looked a little more into Blaze and the Protectors since your phone call with him. Kidnapping a young girl would be inconsistent with their code of conduct, as indicated by their activities of record.”

  “Good to know. Theresa.” Zeus placed a gentle hand on his ex’s shoulder. With his other hand, he reached into his briefcase, found his iPhone, and held it in his hand for a moment, without taking it out. The device weighed heavy in his hands, for reasons that had nothing to do with how much it weighed.

  His ex lifted her head and stared blankly at him. He caught a tear on his fingertip, a gesture he hadn’t done with her in a long, long time—even though there’d been plenty of tears. He held her chin up so her gaze remained on his. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this. She’ll be there. She’ll be fine. Trust me on this. Okay?”

  “Send her back to me.” More tears started falling. “And be safe.”

  Nice of his ex to include the afterthought. He patted her on the head as she put it back down on her knees, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Standing, he turned and walked to the corner of the conference room and entered the bathroom. There were two stalls. Both empty. Zeus locked the outer door and turned his back to the mirror. He drew a deep breath, lifted the phone, and couldn’t start.

  “Ragno,” he said through his audio feed, dropping his hand with the iPhone to thigh level, “what’s going on with Gabe and Sam?”

  “Sam landed. She’s aboard Raven One, stationed a half-hour from the island. Stollen will reach the island in one hour. Gabe’s ready to depart from the base in Germany. The window for reaching Maximov’s body is five to seven hours.”

  “Why so long?”

  “Radiation concerns. Circuitous route necessary.”

  “Once we have remains, we’ll do DNA testing. At most, six hours after acquiring remains we’ll know whether the body is Andre Maximov by doing a paternity test from Vasily Maximov’s DNA.”

  “How is Sam doing?”

  A pause. “You could talk to her. You have a few minutes.”

  “Asking you.”

  “Stressed. Anxious, but still cool and professional. She keeps asking Gabe and Jenkins about you and Ana. They’ve given her the standard answer.” Operation in progress. No details can be provided. “Which I’m suspecting isn’t helping her stress level.”

  “Let her know when they’ve secured Ana.”

  “Will do. Geez, Zeus, if Maximov is really dead, this throws a monkey wrench in the ITT trial. Samantha has been on the phone with President Cameron and Judge O’Connor, trying to reason through the implications.”

  “Ten minutes out, Zeus,” Sebastian cut into the audio feed.

  “Ragno. Sebastian. I’m going silent for a few minutes.”

  Zeus pressed his watch, muting their connection. He raised his phone to his face, switched the camera view, drew a deep breath, looked into the lens, and hit video. “Hey, my sweet angel. Just thought I’d tell you how much I… He swallowed hard. “Love you. You know I don’t talk about feelings much.” He visualized his daughter, her sweet, velvety brown eyes, and almost stopped recording. Clearing his throat, keeping his eyes steady, he imagined what his own father would have said, if given a chance for one last heart to heart talk, and continued. “Uncle Gabe and Sebastian are going to decide when you’re old enough to see this, so…you may have figured out some of these things on your own.”

  He ticked off the laundry list of items he felt the need to remind her about. Homework’s important. Listen to your mom. Tell her you love her. What happened between your mom and me wasn’t her fault. Try hard to find something you love to do, and do it every day. Don’t worry about things you can’t control. Be considerate of others. Go out of your way to be nice. Don’t be judgmental—ask your mom about that one—it is one of her strengths. Be strong. Be independent. Ask Sebastian and Uncle Gabe for guidance on those points. But also, ask them both for any help you need.

  They love you, unconditionally.

  Those were the easy points.

  “Most of all honey—I’m sorry. Sorry this night happened, sorry I won’t get to be there with you when you do all the wonderful things you’re going to do in your life. I sure would’ve loved to cheer you on. I never wanted to leave you when you were so young. My dad died when I was sixteen, and I didn’t handle it well. His death took all my happiness from me. You were one of the people in my life who brought it back. You taught me the importance of happiness, so strive for it. Make it happen. Insist upon it. And ask Uncle Gabe how to make sure your life is full of it, because he’s mastered it. Follow his lead. Be your sweet, silly, funny self, even when you’re thirty, fifty, and ninety.”

  He drew a deep breath, wondering if there was anything he hadn’t covered. “Oh. Men—don’t fall into the trap of thinking you need one.” Zeus paused, thought about Sam in the tapas restaurant—kudos to her, for picking the man who made her smile, laugh, and glow with happiness. He only hoped his daughter would have Sam’s toughness and resilience. “When it comes down to choosing a man, make sure Gabe and Sebastian approve of him, and after that, pick one who makes you happy. They all come with their own drama. If he doesn’t make you happy, drop him. You don’t need him. If he doesn’t make you feel special—and I mean as though his world won’t turn without you—don’t waste your time on him. I love you, my sweet angel, with all of my heart.”

  He pressed stop on the video, and forwarded it to both Gabe and Sebastian’s private email addresses, with the message—For Ana, when she’s old enough. Sebastian—If the worst happens, please help Gabe take care of my baby girl. She needs solid father figures. Two isn’t too many.

  He typed a quick email to his brother. Gabe—I know you’re going to look at Ana’s video, even if I ask you not to. So I’m not wasting my time asking. I’ve never told you this, but thanks for being that awesome little kid who actually looked up to me after dad died. In those dark years, the fact that you depended on me for so much gave me a reason to get out of bed. Many days, it was the only reason. You’re one of our best agents, but more than that, you grew into a goddamn magnificent human being. I know I was always hard on you. Just want to say I’m proud of you. You didn’t get to know him as well as I did, but I know Dad would’ve been proud of you too. Keep smiling. Love you, brother.

  He thought about the other person in his life who might like to know that at this moment, she was on his mind. He lifted the phone, pressed video, and said what needed to be said to her. Next issue—who should safeguard the video. There was no way in hell he was sending this one to his brother. He typed Ragno’s email address, gave a quick instruction and pressed send.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The Chihuahuan Desert

  Tuesday, February 8

  “Sir.” Agent Stone glanced at Zeus as they made their first pass over the DZ. “We’re picking up body heat and warm engines from vehicles.”

  Stone knelt on the floor of the Cessna, directly in front of Zeus, Leon, and Cox, focusing on his laptop. He was analyzing intel produced from thermographic cameras that were affixed to the body of the aircraft, which was 14,000 feet above the Chihuahan Desert. It was 1905. Ten minutes before their scheduled jump. He
at signatures produced from the forward-looking and sideways-tracking cameras were providing real-time life onto a map of the uninhabited, desert area of the DZ.

  “Turn your screen. You’re blocking my view.” Zeus slipped on his helmet. He was no longer in communication with Ragno and Sebastian. Without his mic, and without Ragno and Sebastian’s voices streaming into his thoughts, the whir of the Cessna’s engines throbbed against his eardrums.

  The utilitarian plane had two pilots in the cockpit. Behind the pilots, along either side, there was bench seating. Leon, Cox, and Zeus sat together, near the door. So they’d have full night vision upon exiting the aircraft, most lights in the cabin were off, with only a dim red glow provided by floor lights.

  Stone shifted sideways in the narrow aisle, and turned his laptop screen toward Zeus as he pointed at pulsing red, orange, white, and green blobs on a map. “Here. Light blue X marks the DZ. Three vehicles, one further back from the other two. As many as twelve people.”

  Forcing himself to remain in analytical agent mode, rather than desperate father mode, Zeus scanned the screen. The intel didn’t give the one answer he wanted.

  “Eight adults outside of the vehicles. Too large for a child.” Stone’s matter-of-fact words hammered home what Zeus had already figured out. “However,” shifting his finger up, to a large orange and red blob that was the furthest from the blue x, “the heat signature of this vehicle is obscuring human heat.” He pointed to two of the men who were furthest from the vehicles, and pressed a button that gave them a close-up. “Given the intensity of the reading, these men appear to be carrying weapons that have been fired recently.”

  At what? Or whom?