Jaguar (The Madison Wolves Book 12)

by Robin Roseau

  The man stared at the screen, saying nothing. Beside him, the woman cried. Michaela looked at both of them for a minute then said, “Portia, bandage her leg.”

  No one spoke while the enforcer stepped forward with a first aid kit, but the woman began gibbering when Portia began cutting the slacks away. She flinched as she received her treatment, but she calmed down, slightly, once Portia was done.

  “Now,” Michaela said. “I bet you’d like your aircraft back. Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll sell them to you for a very competitive price. Lie to us or make me angry, and we’ll give them back after filling them with cocaine. And by give them back, we mean you can talk to DEA about them.”

  The man licked his lips. “Who are you?” he asked, his tone subdued.

  “Tell me, Mr. Hensley. Are you aware there are things that go bump in the night?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you?” she asked. “Maybe that’s true. Are you going to tell us what we want to know?”

  “If I don’t, are you going to torture us?”

  “Let me rephrase this question? Are you going to tell us willingly, or unwillingly? Either way, you’ll be telling us.”

  “You’re some kind of cold monster,” he replied.

  “Maybe I am,” Michaela said. “But what would you do if someone tried to kidnap you and your children? Would you be a little irked?”

  He didn’t answer that. Instead he said, “I’m not even sure those are ours.”

  “The FAA assures us they are,” Michaela replied. “So I’m not sure I believe you. Would this be easier if I spent a little more time convincing you of my willingness to act, Mr. Hensley?”

  He didn’t answer, but he looked around the room for a while, craning his head around. No one stopped him. Finally he settled his gaze back on the fox. “You’re the smallest one here.”

  “So I am,” Michaela said. “Did it feel like a tiny woman hit you a few minutes ago?”

  He worked his jaw. “No. What are you?”

  “Ah, what an interesting question. I am the woman who will decide your fate. You could walk away from this, Mr. Hensley, you and Ms. Evermore both. Now, do you wish the aircraft back?”

  He glanced at the screen. He looked over at the woman, then down at her bandaged leg.

  Finally he returned his gaze to Michaela. “We have similar aircraft, but I don’t recognize those N-numbers.”

  “Was the paint fresh?” Michaela asked.

  “No,” said Greg. “The N-numbers are fake, but they’re painted on relatively small side panels, and the other paint doesn’t quite match that of the rest of the aircraft.”

  “I didn’t notice in the dark,” Michaela said. She turned back to the prisoners. “We used the registration numbers on the identification plate. Was there any evidence of tampering?”

  “No,” Greg said. “And a search also matches the numbers from both engines.”

  “Sloppy,” Michaela said. “And not that hard to trace.”

  Mr. Hensley turned to look at the woman beside him. She returned his gaze, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “Rickie,” he asked, “Do you know anything about this?”

  She closed her eyes; she closed them tightly. Then, without opening again, she nodded slowly. And then tears began crawling down her cheeks.

  Michaela gestured. Portia stepped forward and removed the woman’s gag. She startled as soon as the wolf touched her, but there was little opportunity to move. Michaela paused and then said, “Ms. Evermore, are these aircraft yours?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But if you traced them to us, then probably.” She opened her eyes. “Please don’t hurt me again.”

  “It was only a scratch,” Michaela said. “I received far worse while dealing with the people who invaded our land. Two of my very closest friends were shot. Don’t worry; they’re fine. But you should perhaps be happy I am the one asking the questions.”

  The woman looked around, saying nothing. Then she brushed her face against her shoulder. “We have two S-70s out on lease.”

  “Painted to look like Blackhawks?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Former Coast Guard aircraft?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “They might be. I would have to check records. Mid-Star has owned them for a number of years.”

  “Would you like them back?”

  “Not if they’re filled with drugs.”

  “No drugs,” Michaela said. “For now. I’ll take it that yes, you would like them back. What size deposit would you have demanded for them?”

  “I don’t know exactly.”

  “I am unsure I believe you,” Michaela replied. “But I’ll take an estimated amount. Please don’t lie to me. It would be bad for our relationship and your blood supply.”

  The woman gulped. “In round numbers? Two million.”

  “Each?”

  “For the two.”

  Michaela glanced over at Greg, who shrugged. She turned back. “Well then, if we sell them back to you for one million, you can tell the people who leased them whatever you like and keep the other million. That’s a tidy profit, don’t you think?”

  The two prisoners exchanged glances. It was the CEO who asked, “Why would you do that?”

  “Let you have them cheaply? Or make you pay anything at all?”

  “Let us have them back, if what you’ve said is true.”

  “We’re letting you have them back, because they don’t belong to us, and we don’t deal in stolen aircraft. We’re making you pay for them because I’m a little unhappy, and because I’m told your operations aren’t always as honorable as I might like, and because due in part to these aircraft, I am spending money I would rather not have to spend. That million dollars will offset the cost of being invaded. I don’t know if it will offset the entire cost or not.”

  The man said nothing further, so Michaela turned her gaze back to the woman. “We would like to know where to more appropriately turn our attention. I would like you to tell us.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, now that is not a good answer.”

  “But I could find out, if I could have access to a computer and my cell phone.”

  Michaela folded her arms and then hopped backwards to sit on the edge of the table. She studied the woman, who had calmed significantly. She commented on that. “Explain.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to kill us,” she said.

  “Maybe I’m lulling you to learn what I want.”

  “Maybe you are.”

  “You’ve seen our faces,” Michaela pointed out. “You should be terrified.”

  The woman didn’t respond. Michaela looked at her intently. Finally she said, “Let’s see if she can give us what we want.”

  There was a flurry of motion. One of Greg’s people put a laptop down on the table beside Michaela. Kristian handed her a phone. Michaela looked at it for a moment then held it out. “Security code?”

  “One-seven-three-niner-niner-five.”

  “If this locks up,” Michaela said, “you are going to suddenly be very, very unhappy.” Then she repeated the number. “Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Michaela pushed numbers then smiled. “Well, well. Cooperation.” She waved the unlocked phone around then turned it back to face herself and then frowned. “Oh,” she said, sounding sad. “No signal.”

  “I don’t need a signal. I need to reference an app.”

  “You don’t really think I’m untying you, do you?” Michaela asked. “Why do you need a file?”

  “It has security codes on it.”

  “This is your laptop,” Michaela said, nudging the computer.

  “I recognize it. The codes aren’t on the computer, and the phone can’t access the systems we need.”

  “Two-factor authentication?” Greg asked. “Does the phone need to receive a text message?”

  “No. There’s an app
. The codes change every few minutes.”

  “We’ll know if anyone tries to trace this back to us,” Michaela said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  The woman looked around then said, “Yes.”

  “All right,” Michaela said with a nod.

  Greg’s technician pulled up a chair and manipulated the computer. It took a few minutes to obtain a secure connection into Mid-Star’s computer system. Our prisoner told where to click, and soon enough we were treated to a view of a lease tracking system with the two helicopters leased by Dark Gorge Consulting.

  Greg’s technician collected all the information.

  No one commented.

  Michaela waited until the technician thought he had everything he needed. At that, she leaned forward, still seated on the edge of the table. “Do you both know what is going to happen if we discover you have been less than fully forthcoming with us?”

  The woman looked up at Michaela. I thought her expression was cold. “You’ll kidnap us, stab us, and let us know you’re going to kill us if we don’t cooperate?”

  “Funny,” Michaela said. “File.” She held out a hand. A moment later a manila folder made it into her hand. She studied it.

  “Rickie Evermore,” Michaela read. “47 years old.” She looked the woman over. “You look damned good for 47.”

  “Thank you,” the woman replied archly.

  Michaela’s eyes descended to the folder. “No children. Never married. We didn’t have time to check on boyfriends.” She looked up. “Or girlfriends.” The woman didn’t respond. “You’ve been with Mid-Star for eight years, and in our search, we didn’t find any prior references do you. We find that interesting.” She turned the folder sideways. “Nice house.”

  “It’s comfortable.”

  “I imagine,” Michaela replied. She tossed the folder aside. “What did you do before joining Mid-Star.”

  “This and that.”

  From one eye blink to the next, two of Michaela’s knives appeared in her hands.

  “Nice trick,” said the woman. “So you’re going to torture me anyway? I gave you what you needed.”

  “You could pick the easy path,” the fox replied, “and tell me what you did before joining Mid-Star.”

  “Maybe I was a drug runner.”

  “Maybe you’re former Mossad.”

  Rickie didn’t so much as flinch.

  “Maybe there’s no former about it,” Michaela added.

  “For a fishing expedition, you sure throw a long cast,” the woman replied. “Is this pertinent?”

  “Your crying spell earlier was an act,” Michaela said, “and not particularly convincing.” She gestured. “This is the real you. I’m trying to decide if you knew how your helicopters would be used when you leased them out.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “But you are the person who handled the exchange. And I think you knew the answers we retrieved before we went through the charade with the computer.”

  “Would you have believed me?”

  “Probably not,” Michaela admitted. “Do you blame us for wanting to get to the bottom of this?”

  “You’ve obviously made enemies,” Rickie replied. “Get off your high horse. If you made the sort of enemies to go to these lengths, you’re not nice people, which is confirmed by everything today.”

  “I’m a high school science teacher.”

  The woman laughed, and rather loudly. “Nice cover,” she said eventually.

  “Nevertheless,” Michaela said, “the people who paid us a visit were here to kidnap me and my two very young children, who aren’t old enough to have made enemies with anyone. Along the way, those people were prepared to kill any of my students that got in my way. And you gave them two helicopters to help them with that process. Did you even ask questions?”

  “We don’t ask questions,” Rickie said. “Frankly, if they’re going to use them for legitimate reasons, we don’t care. And if they’re going to use them for illegitimate questions, they’ll have a lie at the ready.”

  “And a buck is a buck.”

  “Or in this case, one point two million bucks.”

  “And you even got a free business trip out of the deal,” Michaela said.

  “And met such interesting people,” Rickie added. She looked around the room, her gaze settling on me. “Someone doesn’t belong.” She turned back to Michaela. “Two someones.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Mossad has a file on me,” Michaela said. “You’ll be our guests for a day or three, while we finish reaching the bottom of this. I’m afraid the quarters are somewhat Spartan.” She turned to look at Elisabeth. “See to it.”

  * * * *

  We waited until the enforcers had stashed our unhappy guests. Once they returned, Michaela asked, “Greg?”

  “We’re tracing the payment accounts. That will take some time. I find it unlikely they belong to Dark Gorge.”

  “I believe we need to make those phone calls. Carissa, are your people ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Eric, can you please call Jared for us?”

  “One minute.” It only took a moment, and then he said, “On speaker.”

  “Hello, Jared,” Michaela said. “Thank you for doing this?”

  “It is nothing, Michaela.”

  “Greg, you’re up.”

  Greg signaled, and it was actually one of his technicians that handled placing the next call. Then he gestured to Greg, now wearing a headset similar to Eric’s, and Greg said, “Orlando, it’s Greg Freund from Lima. I’ve been asked to facilitate a phone call.”

  “How is business, Greg?”

  “I’d love not to have any,” Greg said. “Especially the current business.”

  “That’s like all my business,” said the CEO of Dark Gorge Consulting.

  “My clients averted a kidnapping,” Greg explained. “Mother and two of her daughters. Warm, passionate people. Good friends, but terrible, terrible enemies, Orlando. The worst type of enemies.”

  “If they averted the kidnapping, why are you calling me?”

  “Orlando, are you alone?”

  “Greg, we’re not friends, but we’ve never had a problem. What’s going on?”

  “Orlando, are you alone?”

  “I’m alone in my office with the door closed.”

  “I’m going to give you some advice, Orlando,” Greg said. “Keep this conversation to yourself. Your first instinct is going to be to bring in your teams, but you do not want to do that.”

  “Greg, don’t threaten me.”

  “I’m not threatening you. Orlando, have you stepped over to the other side?”

  “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “You’ve always been the ones to go in after the kidnapping,” Greg explained. “But sometimes the other side can be very profitable.”

  There was a pause, and then the man’s tone was even colder. “We don’t do that. And from what I understand, you don’t, either.”

  “Which is part of the reason why you and I have never been on opposite sides,” Greg said. “My clients want to meet with you, Orlando.”

  “They can make an appointment.”

  “There is a jet waiting for you at SAN.”

  “It’s a shame I’m going to miss it.”

  “Mr. Gillespie, my name is Carissa. I am rather known in New Orleans. I’ve lived there for a couple of centuries. Do you think you might know of me?”

  The man was silent for a long time, finally saying, “I believe I’ve heard of you, Your Majesty.”

  “Just Carissa is fine,” said the vampire. “One of my children is on this call.”

  “One of your children.”

  “Yes. I’m sure you understand what I mean.” And then she gestured to Kristian, who spoke quietly into his own headset, and after a moment, we heard the woman’s voice.

  “Dad?”

  “Renate?” said Orlando. “Honey?”

  “Dad, some strange wo
man is at my hotel door. She handed me this phone and said you wanted to speak with me.”

  “How is New Orleans, honey?”

  “My cell phone is working. Why did you send a flunky, Dad? Oh, now the woman is walking away. What’s going on?”

  “That’s a good question,” said Orlando. “What did you do today, honey?” The two talked for a minute, and then Orlando said, “I’m glad you’re having a nice time. I’m sorry if this seemed strange.”

  “It was good to talk to you, Dad.”

  “You too, honey,” he said.

  “What am I supposed to do with this phone?”

  “Perhaps hang onto it. You can give it back to me when I see you next. I love you, Renate.”

  “I love you, too, Dad. Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”

  “Next time I see you,” he promised. “Be careful, honey.”

  “Just like you taught me.”

  The woman clicked off, and as soon as she had, Orlando began screaming at Greg. No one was particularly impressed, but finally Carissa said, “Really, Mr. Gillespie. Your daughter is unharmed, and my children are ensuring she stays that way. She is currently the safest tourist in my city. You, however, have been very naughty.”

  “Lima doesn’t do this, Freund!” Orlando roared.

  “Perhaps you would like to hear everything,” Greg said. “We have another call to make. This one to Chicago.”

  “Leave her alone!”

  “Hush now. You don’t want to scare her,” Carissa said.

  There were some clicks, and then another woman said, “Daddy?”

  “Darling!” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “There are two people at my dorm room. They just gave me a phone and said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Perhaps you should ask for a description, Ms. Gillespie,” Carissa said. “Your daughter does not hear me, but she can hear you.”

  “Trinity, what do these people look like?”

  “They just walked away. I still have their phone.”

  “Close the door and lock it, then tell me what they looked like.”