Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2)

by Stella Barcelona

  DIC gestured to the man who stood on his immediate left. “Put the woman and child in the far vehicle. Keep your weapon trained on them. I’ll tell you when they can go.”

  Agent Leon and Ana, now walking hand in hand, were guided to the same all-terrain jeep in which Ana had been brought to the DZ. Eyes straining to see through the bright car lights, Zeus watched Leon hug Ana before they both stepped into the driver’s side of the car. The man who was guarding them stayed at the driver’s side door, aiming his weapon at Leon through the open window. He listened intently—and in vain—for the sound of the engine turning over.

  Come on Leon. Go!

  “The number,” DIC said.

  “Theresa,” Zeus called. “Start the jeep.”

  He breathed easier when he heard the engine turn over.

  “The number.”

  Zeus gave Sebastian’s number to the man next to him. Fat fingers placed the phone against his cheek. “Barrows can jump.” The words and word order were code; Ana is alive—remains in jeopardy.

  The man pulled the phone away from his face. In the dry air of the desert, sounds carried. The jeep’s engine had a soft hum. One man was a heavy breather. Another was a cougher. From far above, he heard the faint sound of the Cessna.

  The men were all looking into the sky. If Ana hadn’t been just fifty yards away, even with the cuffs on, Zeus would have used their distraction to take them down. He maintained his position, but knew to an inch where each man stood. By the manner in which they held their weapons, he had a good gauge of their skill level.

  One pointed at the dark, star-scattered sky. “Chute.”

  A white chute floated down in the darkness.

  “Let my daughter go.”

  Come on Leon! Goddammit. Go!

  DIC glanced at the man on Zeus’s right. “Sedate him.”

  No!

  The man held a large syringe filled with milky liquid. As the needle jabbed into his neck, three things happened. One, as planned, Cox landed approximately one hundred yards from where Zeus was kneeling and where the men were waiting for him. Two, on DIC’s order, four men jumped into a jeep to pick up Cox. Three, the man guarding Leon and Ana lowered his weapon as he watched Cox land. Leon drove away with a burst of speed and a plume of dust.

  She’ll be safe. Thank you, God.

  Ice-cooled blood pulsed from Zeus’s neck into his head and chest. Foggy darkness overcame him as the sedative took effect.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Aboard Raven One, Undisclosed Location

  Wednesday, February 9

  As Samantha sat in the rear cabin of Raven One, while Jenkins and her security team worked in the front cabin, knots in the muscles and tendons of her neck and upper back screamed for relief. The jet sat in a well-lit hangar, approximately a half hour from Stollen’s island.

  The door that separated the two cabins was open. As the agents talked, yawned, coughed, or typed, their quiet noises and subdued voices were welcome. Their presence provided a break to the silent scream of agony for Zeus and Ana that, as the day had progressed, had become a spider-web in her mind, present with every thought.

  Calm down.

  Jenkins stepped into the rear cabin and handed her a convenience store bag. Antacids and aspirin. Throughout the course of Tuesday, she’d chewed her way through a full roll of antacids. It was now 12:05 a.m., Eastern Time, and Samantha figured it would be best if she didn’t count the number of antacids she chewed and swallowed. Pulling out a fresh roll, she said, “Thank you. Any news about Zeus?”

  He shook his head. “Operation is ongoing. Nothing to report.”

  Using her thumbnail to separate a tablet, she picked up her Black Raven flip phone and asked the agent who answered to connect her to Judge O’Connor. Ever since Stollen had told them that Maximov was dead, Samantha’s job had been to keep Judge O’Connor updated on the Black Raven operation to go into Praptan and determine whether Stollen had told them to the truth. The judge had authority to get the information from Ragno directly. He preferred for the information to be filtered through Samantha, who had more knowledge of the ITT proceeding.

  Scanning Ragno’s latest instant message, she waited for the judge to answer the phone. Throughout the course of the day and evening he’d been on the lookout for her calls. He answered on the first ring. She stood, careful to keep her voice steady and professional, without revealing that she was caught up in personal turmoil that she couldn’t shake. “Your Honor, the latest Black Raven information indicates that the agents are now entering Praptan.”

  “How far are the agents from the location Stollen provided?”

  Although her nerves were stretched taut, Samantha somehow managed to match Judge O’Connor’s businesslike tone. “We estimate an hour.”

  “Then we’ll at least know whether Stollen is toying with us.”

  “With all due respect, Judge O’Connor.” she turned and walked the seven steps of the narrow aisle that bisected the rear cabin, turned, and walked it again. “We won’t be sure of that until we receive DNA confirmation that the remains actually are Andre Maximov.”

  “We should know that within six hours of finding the body?”

  “That is correct. Black Raven has sophisticated testing capabilities that will begin immediately.” A long seat lined one side of the small, sleek sleeping berth. Two side-by-side seats, capable of reclining, were in front of a bathroom. “Once we confirm that the remains are Andre Maximov, I’ll return to Stollen. I’ll continue the interrogation and see what else he has to say.”

  Samantha, Judge O’Connor, and President Cameron had all agreed that experienced interrogators would have been better for the job of interviewing the terrorist. As a lawyer, Samantha was trained in the art of securing information from witnesses. She didn’t, however, have the psychological training to handle someone like Stollen. Yet Stollen had made it clear that he’d only talk to her, which made her lack of experience as a trained criminal interrogator moot.

  If Gabe recovered Maximov’s body, Samantha would return to Stollen and she’d get more information from him. Assuming he had any to give, and was willing to give it.

  “What is the latest on Zeus’s child?”

  “No news. Operation is ongoing.” She repeated the Black Raven phrase she’d heard throughout the day. Their way of providing an answer without giving any information. A phrase I’ve become damn tired of hearing. “That’s all I know.”

  “Keep me informed. I’m awaiting your calls. Good job, Ms. Fairfax.”

  Judge O’Connor clicked off. As the night progressed, Jenkins and the other agents had grown increasingly somber. Now, she heard Jenkins, from the front cabin, say, “Thank God.”

  She stepped into the doorway, glanced at the agents who were all talking at once, as her phone rang. Ragno’s number. Breath caught in her throat, she answered, “Tell me.”

  “Ana is safe.”

  Heart pulsing fast with profound relief, Samantha couldn’t say anything.

  “She’s reunited with her mother,” Ragno added. “Scared, but appears unharmed.”

  When she could breathe, Samantha asked, “Zeus?”

  Ragno was silent for a beat that lasted far too long. “Operation is still underway—”

  “No! Tell me, Ragno, goddammit.” Samantha gave up on poised, professional coolness. Nothing but stretched-to-popping, out-of-control, frantic worry infected her voice. “Is he safe? Is he hurt? Alive? Dead? I can’t handle this. I need to know!”

  Whatever cool she’d ever possessed had disappeared, and the agents in the front of the plane were all giving her a sympathetic look. Jenkins stood, as though ready to console her, but also hung back, as though he had no idea how to do that.

  “Samantha, I can’t give more informa—”

  “But I need to know. Something, Ragno. Please. Anything. Dammit. I just need to know.”

  “He traded himself for his daughter. We lost contact approximately three hours ago,” Ragno said.<
br />
  “Three hours—lost contact? And you didn’t tell me? What does that mean?”

  “Exactly that. We’re going to find him, Samantha.”

  Find him? “You don’t know where he is? How can that be?”

  “I can’t give details. I can only assure you—we will find him.”

  The last words failed to carry the force of conviction. Ragno sounded like a woman who was persuading herself as much as she was trying to persuade Samantha. In her life, Samantha had been scared, and she knew how to recognize fear in the spoken voice—the careful pronunciation of each word in an effort to hide an underlying tremble. Ragno, with her bird’s eye view of Black Raven’s ongoing operation, was scared too, and that, in turn, scared the hell out of Samantha.

  Leaning hard against the polished-wood wall, staring blankly into the eyes of Jenkins and the other agents, she wondered how she was going to get through however long it would take to know Zeus’s fate.

  Or the rest of my life, assuming the worst happens.

  Her fear that the unimaginable was happening—that Zeus was irrevocably gone—skyrocketed her emotions into outright heart-pounding panic. Shutting her eyes, she realized she’d just found something that mattered more to her than her professional goals, aspirations, and dreams. More than her own life. More than anything.

  It boiled down to two simple words—

  Zeus.

  Alive.

  Please God. Zeus. Alive.

  Okay. More than just two simple words—my selfish request: I want another chance. That’s all I want. I want the chance he was offering from the moment he showed up in Paris. I want it so badly I’m yearning for it. If not that, if that’s not in the cards for me, that’s…okay. I won’t be selfish. Please just let him be alive. Please.

  Feeling lost and unraveled, she turned and went back to her seat in the rear cabin of the jet. She settled for semi-privacy by keeping the door of the cabin open, wanting to know the minute the mood of the agents in the front cabin changed. She reached for the flip phone and requested that the Black Raven operator get Samuel on the line. He answered on the third ring. “Well, I’ve been waiting for this call for far too long.”

  Her silent treatment of her grandfather had lasted since Zeus’s arrival in Paris. Over a week. The longest she’d ever gone without talking to Samuel. “I’m still furious with you.”

  “I know. Wish I could tell you it’s the last time I’ll make you so angry…but I can’t make that promise.”

  Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she focused on the jet’s sleek woodwork, tracing a fine dark grain that ran along the opposite wall, above the windows. “Can you at least say you’re sorry?”

  “Of course I’m sorry. I should have listened to you when you asked me not to send him. But can’t you admit now that part of the reason you were so mad at me for hiring him is because you love him so much?”

  “That doesn’t make what you did acceptable.”

  “Honey, he hurt you when he left you. Hurt you more than anyone ever did. It’s okay to admit that, and you’re afraid of opening yourself to the same kind of pain.”

  She choked back a sob.

  “Back then I tried to bribe him to stay away from you.”

  Sobbing forgotten, she gasped. “You didn’t!”

  “He wouldn’t take my money. Yet another indication of how fine of a man he is, which I’m betting you knew from the very beginning.”

  Under different circumstances, she’d have been furious with her grandfather for the manipulation, and with Zeus for not telling her about it. Now, in the middle of this long night from hell, knowing of her grandfather’s bribe attempt made her wish she’d been more receptive to Zeus upon his arrival in Paris, instead of rubbing his face in her plan to marry Justin.

  Dropping her voice to a whisper, she got to the point of her call, knowing her grandfather would help her, just like he always had in her darkest moments. “I’m scared, Samuel. I can barely breathe. It looks really bad.”

  “I know. Ragno’s kept me informed, both with the bounty hunt and with the mission to rescue Ana. Hell. Right now everyone is operating at high anxiety. But you have to believe that Zeus will be okay. I believe it.”

  “But he’s missing, and—”

  “Listen to me.” Samuel’s voice was unwavering and firm. “Black Raven is the best. That’s why I hired them and trusted your life to them. Those two-bit thugs who have Zeus don’t stand a chance. Not one chance in hell. Now,” his voice became gentle, “don’t you want to talk about what you’re going to do when Zeus reappears? You’ve made a bit of a mess, and I’m afraid this one is partly my fault, because I’ve done a hell of a job reinforcing your belief that your father was responsible for your mother’s failures. He was. I’m not going to soft-pedal that at this late date. Your mother would’ve been better off had she never fallen in love with him. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t find love that will enhance your life. Not every man is like your father. Zeus certainly isn’t. Not all love is destructive, and I’m pretty goddamn certain I’ve misled you into believing that falling in love will inevitably lead to self-destruction.”

  “I’ve blown it,” she whispered. “And it isn’t your fault. I knew what I was doing. I was scared of my feelings for Zeus since the moment I met him. Seven years ago I was so hurt when he left, that I only allowed myself to feel relief. You see, I always thought he was too good to be true, and when he told me he was leaving me, he was proving it. So this time around, I was as cold as I possibly could be. I’ve lost him again, and this time it hurts worse than before.”

  “The only time you’ve actually lost a fight,” he paused, and she shut her eyes, knowing what he was going to say next, because she’d heard it from him her whole life, “is when you quit.” Her grandfather was a firm believer in fighting till the bitter end for what he believed in. “So let’s just reason through what your next move might be. Because Zeus will make it through this night, and you will have a chance to make things right, okay?”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The Chihuahuan Desert

  Wednesday, February 9

  Zeus became aware of men talking. Pushing aside the need for sleep, his breath caught. Ana? He was able to breathe. Yes—he remembered seeing Agent Leon drive away. And he was now listening to—whom? How many? Trying hard to focus through the drug-induced haze, he forced himself to listen to the voices. Five males. Maybe six. One of them was unmistakably DIC. The men were within a couple of yards of him.

  Using senses other than sight, which would clue his captors to the fact that he was conscious, he tried to get a feel for his environment. The air smelled musty and earthy. He was flat on his back, his bodyweight crushing his arms as he lay on a floor. Arms? Numb. Hands? Numb. Still cuffed at the wrists, behind his back. Legs? Fuck! Numb. Either he was paralyzed or his ankles and knees were bound together and tied to something so he couldn’t move them. Head? A dull ache, with major brain fog.

  He drew a deep, quiet breath, as clear thoughts gave way to nothingness. A few minutes later he awoke again with a start.

  Ana?

  Yes! Hope.

  Encouraged again by his last memory of Agent Leon driving away with Ana, he clung to the hope that they’d gotten safely away. He’d happily spend the rest of his days reliving the nightmare that his daughter had been captured—as long as it ended him with him knowing that she was safe.

  Dear God, let her be okay.

  Voices. When last awake, he’d been listening to voices. He opened his eyes, barely making a slit in his lids. Wherever they were, there weren’t many lights. Gray ceiling—maybe earthen—appeared high overhead. A bit of feeling returned to his fingers. He dug them into soft, sandy dirt.

  A cave. Maybe a tunnel.

  How long had he been out of it?

  Absolutely no fucking clue.

  “Get this done.” DIC’s flat, all-American accent and clipped tone was unmistakable. From the direction of his voice, the man st
ood six feet away and south of where Zeus lay on the dirt floor.

  If I survive this, you sadistic son of a bitch, I’ll kill your ass. Slowly and with extreme prejudice.

  Big fucking if there. He was bound like a Thanksgiving turkey, extremely groggy from whatever the hell they’d injected him with, and surrounded by at least six men. He could hear their feet moving nearby.

  Beneath his body he flexed his fingers, trying to bring them back to life. Hurt like hell. Keeping his movements subtle, Zeus worked his fingers. At the first opportunity, he’d be ready for them physically. His fuzzy brain state, however, was more of an issue. Would the fog dissipate? Or was this it? Didn’t seem to be clearing. His thought process was vague, his body annoyingly lax.

  A foot nudged his side. A voice, sounding like it came from directly over him, said, “He isn’t awake.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” DIC answered. “It’s almost time to transport Barrows and I damn well want to be done with this asshole before we start that task. Hernandez is the smaller job. Delivering Barrows will make us the real money.”

  At least they had their priorities in the correct order. Feelings were starting to come back to his hands in a painful rush of pins and needles. Too bad his body still felt weighted and unresponsive, and his brain was still fucking mush.

  A cell phone rang.

  “Yeah?” DIC paused. “Wait. Repeat that.”

  Another long pause.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Barrows is gone? Gone where? How?”

  A pause in DIC’s conversation was punctuated by heavy footfalls and harsh breathing.

  “Julio—get to the fucking point, you moron!”

  Relief seeped through his veins, warming him, as Zeus savored the sound of DIC’s apoplectic rage.

  “Goddamn it! The man didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke. I swear to Jesus-fucking-H. Christ, if you had a brain in that fat head of yours you’d be dangerous. You were charged with guarding him. A simple task. Simple. Barrows didn’t just fucking walk out. Someone helped him and Pablo, Richie, Steve and whoever-the-fuck else you just said are also missing–aren’t fucking missing!”