Off Guard: A clean action adventure book

by Glen Robins

  Sarah had closed her eyes and was settling in for an afternoon nap. She knew Dr. Navarro would be in to visit later to start planning her next round of cancer treatments.

  Emily sat in the recliner near the window with her tablet and pondered the events of the day. A few searches on various government websites had yielded no new information about the hunt for Collin or about his connection with the Asian crime syndicate. She sat staring at the screen with glazed-over eyes when her phone interrupted her thoughts. The caller ID showed, “Unknown Caller.” She hesitated as she held the phone up and studied the screen.

  After the third ring, Sarah’s groggy voice said, “Aren’t you going to answer it, dear? Could be one of the FBI agents with an update on Rob.”

  Emily shrugged. It made sense. “Hello,” she answered as she tapped the speaker button.

  “Ms. Burns. What a pleasure to hear your voice. Our last meeting ended rather abruptly, don’t you think?” The voice was smooth, with a proper British accent. Smug and arrogant, Emily knew she had heard it before, recently, but was having trouble placing it. When she didn’t say anything, the voice continued. “Surely you remember me. Our common friend, Mr. Cook, brought us together. And now, we have another common friend. Mr. Howell, would you care to say a few words to Ms. Burns?”

  That’s when it clicked. The Asian man on the phone when she and Sarah were tied up in the abandoned warehouse. He was the one that ordered her and Sarah to be kidnapped and gave the two monsters permission to have their way. He had used her and Sarah to exert pressure on Collin to give up the codes for his hidden accounts, then left them as rewards for his dogs. As the memory flooded back to her consciousness, Emily felt faint and put a hand to her head. “Oh my—”

  “Hey, Em. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Everything’s under—” The connection was not good. Static and clicking made it difficult to decipher, but she was quite sure who it was.

  Rob’s voice cut out and was replaced by the smooth British one. The level of background noise and interference disappeared, too. Emily guessed it was a conference call that had been ended. “Your brave friend may be fine now, but if you want to see him in one piece again, I suggest you cooperate and comply with my demands.”

  Sarah sat up in the bed across the room, a look of worry and dread spreading across her face.

  Emily waited for her world to stop spinning, then replied. Rattled and angered by the unexpected threat, Emily’s thoughts and words took off in a torrent. “What demands are you talking about? What is it you think I can do? You really think I can do much from this hospital room? Surely you know where I am. You’re smart enough to know that I don’t have the power to comply with any demand.”

  “Oh, now, Ms. Burns. Please try not to sound so hopeless and pathetic. I know the FBI and the NSA will help you in that regard, as they have done previously. Am I correct?” Penh waited a few beats, then carried on with his line of reasoning. “The problem is, if you don’t follow my instructions exactly, Mr. Howell will lose a finger. One finger for every misstep or delay. If that doesn’t work, we’ll try something more drastic.” Images of the goons who had tied her down flashed in her mind, sending a chill up her spine. She knew he was serious.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Emily begged, barely able to keep her tattered emotions in check. “He’s not part of this. He has nothing you need.”

  “Oh, but you are so misinformed. You know better than to say something so patently untrue. He has more knowledge than you do about our common friend, Mr. Cook, if you still consider him a friend after all he has put you through since your little get-together,” Penh sneered, reminding her that it was Collin who got her involved when he showed up to her convention speech in Chicago just a few weeks earlier. “What kind of friend shares secrets, then runs and hides?”

  “I told you already. He didn’t share any secrets with me. I don’t know anything about what he’s involved in. I only know that Collin is afraid of something terrible—I assume that must be you—and is running to keep away from you. The only thing he said to me was, ‘The less you know, the better.’”

  “That may very well be, but nonetheless, he visited you and spoke with you. How am I to know what information he did or did not share with you at the time? Perhaps he slipped you a piece of paper or thumb drive without you knowing? You may be in possession of the very information I am looking for and not even know it. In any case, our dear boy, Collin, has thereby unwittingly brought you into this little game of cat and mouse. Either he will pay the price for his treachery, or his friends will.”

  Emily, struggling to keep her brain engaged so that her emotions would not run her aground, tried to think like a trained scientist instead of crying inside like a frightened victim of strong-armed coercion. Examine the facts objectively and independently. Don’t show weakness. Don’t let him win.

  The mention of a thumb drive or piece of paper being slipped to her without her knowledge gave her pause, further shaking her confidence. In Chicago, Collin had managed to plant a cheap cell phone with prepaid minutes in her handbag unbeknownst to her and had used it several times since to communicate with her. Knowing that his mother was sick, Collin wanted information from Emily about his mother’s condition, but shared nothing with her about what he was doing or where he was. He only told her that he was safe and healthy and asked her to pass the messages along to his mom. She was merely a conduit between Collin and his family. But she had not heard anything from him since that hurricane two weeks earlier.

  By the simple fact that Rob had shown up when he did, Emily knew he had been much more involved with Collin’s disappearance and subsequent life on the run than she had. The FBI had figured that out, too. This sudden revelation whirled through Emily’s thought processes and knocked her back. Rob was more likely to have the information Penh wanted than she was, but knowing him, he would die before betraying Collin. Penh was using Rob to pressure Emily into talking. He must be desperate, she thought. She had to pretend to know something valuable. She had to bluff and do it now or Rob would be harmed and she would be to blame. She had to do something to stall and buy herself some time.

  “Fine,” she said. “I might have something, but you have to promise Rob will be safe.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Penh said with the aplomb of a man holding all the cards. “What is it?”

  “A phone.”

  “A phone? Why would that be of any use to me, Ms. Burns?”

  “Because it has texts on it from Collin. Some of them seemed pretty cryptic to me, but maybe you can decipher the code. Plus, with its GPS, I’m sure you can track him. Or even talk to him.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Give me the number to that phone.”

  Emily rattled off the number to Collin’s secret phone from memory.

  “Now, please make contact with your boyfriend and remind him that he owes me thirty million dollars, and while he’s at it, I need his computer.”

  “Why would you need his computer?”

  “Because he had information about me and about my money hidden in its memory.”

  “I have tried to reach him for days now, but he doesn’t answer his phone. What am I supposed to do?” A mix of desperation and irritation constricted her larynx, adding strain to her tone.

  “For Mr. Howell’s sake, I hope his accomplices at the NSA and FBI do not try to interfere. If I were you, I would warn him,” Penh said with a diabolic snigger.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I am quite aware of the help he is getting from deep inside your government.”

  Emily tried to take in that information and process it as quickly as she could. The FBI? In on it? That didn’t make sense. Did he also say NSA? That was a piece of breaking news. Shaking her head, Emily tried to inventory everything she knew. The FBI had just come and confiscated Rob’s phone and interrogated the whole family. They had also taken the secret phone from Emily and cloned it before returning it to her. If
they were helping Collin, they had a funny way of showing it. Seemed they were hunting more than helping.

  Her attention snapped back when Penh cleared his throat. She had to rally herself to not get intimidated by his aristocratic accent or his dominating style. “The FBI thinks he’s dead,” she stated bluntly, looking back at the iPad on her lap.

  “According to their website, perhaps, but I have it on good authority that agents of your government are in regular communication with Mr. Cook and are helping him return to the States, presumably to reunite with you and his dear mother.”

  “Why would he do that? He knows you’re after him. He thinks the FBI want to arrest him. He knows he can’t cross the border.” She paused, still processing. “No, I don’t believe you.”

  “Because I have video confirmation that he landed in a small plane in Belize just a few hours ago. That video was taken just minutes before runway cameras were turned off and all personnel removed from the area by the request of the NSA. He flew in and out in near-total secrecy, proving your government is aiding him.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s coming here. Belize is a long way from California,” Emily said, trying not to sound surprised or defensive. “Again, I doubt he would risk it. You’re just probing.”

  “I am not probing. I am drawing a reasonable conclusion based on verified information and his pattern of rash behavior. He’s alone and afraid. He’s going to ground, despite the risks to you and his family, because that’s the kind of person he is.”

  “I think you underestimate him, his resourcefulness, and his determination.”

  “Perhaps you overestimate his character. He’s running scared, and for good reason. He’s got some dirty secrets he’s trying to hide from you and the world.”

  “He’s not scared and he’s got no dirty secrets to hide. You don’t know him. You can’t say that.”

  “Has he told you about the two people he killed?”

  Emily gasped, as did Sarah from across the room.

  “No?” said Penh. “Then, perhaps, you are the one who doesn’t know him. Yes, he has killed two men and now is plotting to assassinate the president of Mexico.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Northbound Interstate 405 in Orange County, California

  June 17, 4:22 p.m. Local Time

  Tom’s return call was not unexpected, just a bit tardy. Reggie and Spinner were enjoying another slow-roll through Orange County, this time, going northbound on the 405 Freeway through Long Beach. Reggie answered it on the first ring. “I hope you have some good news for me, Tom.”

  “Depends on your definition of good news, I guess,” said Tom. His scratchy voice proceeding more slowly than usual. “From my perspective, much of what just happened is good news. More cooperation and information sharing between agencies on a case that has gone from obscure to high-profile in one day is a good thing when you sit in my chair, mostly. I only wish we had had this level of teamwork from the onset. It would have been much more productive, in my opinion. From your perspective, I’d imagine not much of what I’m going to tell you is going to sound like good news. The guy you’ve been after, Collin Cook, is, indeed, receiving aid from the NSA. At first, the aid was simply to get him out of harm’s way. Then, when this Pho Nam Penh character upped the ante and posted pictures of himself with Cook, you guys were brought in. It appears that Penh was using the FBI to locate and flush Cook out of hiding, thus saving himself the valuable resources involved in such a manhunt.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Reggie. “That’s not very good news for us.”

  “Anyway, the NSA team chose to remain silent for his safety. They figured they could get to him and hide him again, no problem. But Cook made a couple of mistakes and Penh latched on like a pit bull. Now, he seems hell-bent on destroying Cook, but not before he recovers his thirty-million-dollar settlement.”

  “OK. We’re with you, Tom. Sounds like Cook’s in trouble and they need our help.”

  “Not exactly. Not the way they described it. According to the deputy director, there’s a short window where Penh will be most vulnerable and they want to exploit it. They’re trying to get their resources poised and in position while keeping Cook safe.”

  “I assume they know about Rob Howell.”

  “Yeah, they know about him. He’s going to be a complicating factor because they have not been able to locate the vehicle that took him across the border, which means they’ve probably switched vehicles again. They don’t know yet where Penh will take him, so they can’t make final plans.”

  “What are the Mexican authorities doing about this? Shouldn’t they be involved?” asked Spinner.

  “That’s a good question,” said Tom. “Normally, I’d say they would be involved. The problem is, Penh’s web has now spread to include certain factions within the Mexican government. They’ve got a group of very powerful political, business, and military leaders involved, working in secret to overthrow the current administration.”

  “That doesn’t sound like good news at all,” said Reggie, shaking his head as he drove. Traffic north of Long Beach Airport had thinned out and they were moving faster now, more like forty-five miles per hour, instead of fifteen.

  “And that’s not all of it,” Tom said with a sigh.

  Reggie picked up on the hesitation. “Go ahead. Tell me the rest of it.”

  “Well, they’ve just put out an alert with Collin Cook’s name and picture on it, claiming that he is working for the US government as an assassin and plans to kill the Mexican president.”

  “What?” said Reggie and Spinner in unison.

  “Yeah, they’re looking for him right now. Claim he crash-landed in southern Mexico earlier today and is on the loose, being aided by a group of guerilla fighters funded by the United States.”

  “What next?” said Reggie in disbelief.

  “Well, I’ll tell you. There’s an unknown portion of the Mexican military that has sided with the separatist movement, which it appears has been funded by none other than Pho Nam Penh. This group, working with Penh and his syndicate, is currently hunting for Cook. The problem is, no one knows at this point which military units are on which side—a problem the key personnel in the NSA are working on very closely with their counterparts in Mexico.”

  “Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said good news was a matter of perspective. I assume there are high-level people on this thing?”

  “Yeah, there’s some whiz kid at NSA that is masterminding this whole thing. The director and deputy director seem to have full faith and confidence in him. He’s the foremost expert on this Pho Nam Penh guy.”

  “Well, it would have been nice to know all this before we wasted so much time and effort. I mean, we’ve been made to look rather foolish.”

  “That was my initial reaction—not the looking foolish part; the wasting time part. It seems you were working at odds with the NSA guys, but they tell me that secrecy was all very necessary. That’s not the way I see it, but I guess I have no choice now but to accept it and move forward. You guys have done an outstanding job, so don’t feel foolish to any degree. OK, Reggie?”

  Reggie hesitated, glancing at Spinner with an arched eyebrow. Spinner shrugged and nodded. “If you say so. I mean, we were given an assignment to find this guy and bring him in for questioning. That’s all we’ve been trying to do for weeks now. But things are starting to make sense. Based on what you told me, it’s no wonder we kept missing him.”

  “You’re right. It’s no wonder at all. At this point, Reggie, all I can say is keep your phone on. This may not be over yet.” Tom paused a beat, then added, “And keep your guy at Interpol on the job, too.”

  ****

  London, England

  June 18, 12:45 a.m. Local Time; June 17, 4:45 p.m. Pacific Time

  Nic struggled through a late-night brainstorming session with his boss, Alastair Montgomery. Tensions were mounting as the clock ticked forward while they rehashed the same tired data for the hundr
edth time. The meeting was quickly devolving into a blood-letting as Alastair expressed the pressure mounting on him from above. Nearly a full day and no further signs of Collin Cook, no trace of Pho Nam Penh, and nothing but gut instincts and suppositions about Collin’s missing friend, Rob Howell. Alastair was fit to be tied and Nic was feeling smaller and smaller as the discussion wore on.

  These meetings with his boss always involved a fair amount of browbeating, whether Alastair intended it or not. That was par for the course. Nic had grown accustomed to it and came prepared, usually. Not today, however. There was a dearth of new developments over the past six hours in one of Interpol’s highest-priority cases. The British press had yet to relent on its coverage of the Royal Bank of Scotland hack attack and seemed to thrive on mocking Interpol’s investigative drought. Because the latest online editions of the tabloids continued to denounce the investigators by name, Alastair’s mood proved particularly foul.

  Crabtree’s incoming call was a saving grace that stemmed Alastair’s deluge of profanity. Nic was grateful for the reprieve, though he suspected it would be short lived. “This is Crabtree,” Nic said to Alastair, pointing at his phone as it rang in his hand.

  “Good. Put him on speaker,” Alastair demanded.

  “Reggie,” Nic said with a forced cheer in his voice. “I’m here with Alastair. What have you got for us?”

  “OK. Good. Glad I got you both at the same time. Sorry to call at such an ungodly hour, but I figured you’d be awake and would want to hear this.”

  “Yes, Agent Crabtree, good to hear from you,” said Alastair.

  “We’ve got some new information for you . . . and a request.”

  “Shoot,” said Nic. “We’re all ears.”

  Reggie went through all the facts that he and Spinner had collected that afternoon. He told them about Rob Howell’s abduction and subsequent disguised border crossing. The news that Collin had been aided all along by the NSA brought Nic a measure of consolation, especially in front of Alastair. He informed them about Penh’s expanded network and the plans that were coming to a head in Mexico.