Freeze Frame

by Judith Rochelle

  “And what’s behind door number three?” Kat asked. “The mysterious Rand Prescott?”

  “Not so mysterious,” Mike answered, looking at the last batch of sheets from the printer. “Started as an oil wildcatter, then began shuffling and flipping oil leases, expanded into real estate development and is now building in the Middle East and South America as well as the States.”

  “How about Mexico?”

  “Not that it shows up. But his last two megaprojects were contracted in partnership with Wright. Andy’s chasing the details to see if there’s some money business there. On paper, Prescott looks fine but words and numbers can easily be made to lie. If he’s in trouble, his share of the ransom could fix him up just fine and cover up anything funny he’s been doing with the partnership funds.”

  “Well.” Kat leaned back in her chair and blew out a breath. “Before we weren’t sure if any of these men were involved. Now it seems we have no shortage of suspects. Just great.”

  Just then the bell on the laptop dinged to announce an incoming email. Mark clicked on the icon to open it and the latest message from the kidnappers rolled across the screen.

  “They’ve made no arrangements to turn over the hostages,” Mike pointed out. “I can’t believe the FBI would go for that.”

  “They’re working in a delicate political situation here,” Faith pointed out. “I think they’re just hoping a miracle will happen and the hostages will show up on their doorstep.”

  “Idiot,” Mike spat. “This is worse than I thought. There’s no mention of an exchange or anything.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I just wish—”

  “Wishing doesn’t cut it,” Mark said. “They’ll play games with the FBI as long as they can, just for kicks. You know it will be up to us to get them out, no matter what.”

  Mark looked at his watch. “Okay. I’m going to touch base with Andy again. We should be hearing from Ed any time now. He said about eleven and it’s almost noon.”

  As if on cue, his cell phone rang and he flipped it open. “Yeah? About time. What? Okay, okay. We’re on our way.”

  “Something wrong?” Faith asked.

  Mark shrugged. “I hope not. That was Ed. He’s at the airport and he says he’s got a surprise for us.”

  “A surprise?” Mike lifted his eyebrows. “It better be a damn good one under the circumstances.”

  “Well, let’s get going and find out.”

  They gathered everything up and were out the door in five minutes.

  * * * * *

  The email arrived promptly at ten o’clock Central Time in Ron Pelley’s office.

  “They want me to go sit in front of the Alamo with ten million dollars’ worth of bearer bonds like it’s scrap paper and just wait for someone to come along?” Pelley was incredulous.

  “I don’t like it much myself,” Delaware said. “But don’t worry. We’ll have agents all over the place and don’t forget the little surprise buried in the box.”

  “This says to be there at twelve thirty and someone will get the package from me. Why do they keep dragging this out?”

  “I told you,” Delaware said. “Creates more tension. Makes you dance to their tune. I hate these bastards. They think they’ve got all the cards.”

  “Yeah? Well, right now they do.” Pelley rubbed his face with his hands. “Shouldn’t I call the others? Let them know I got the money together? That things are moving along? What time the pickup is?”

  “And if they ask you about the hostages, what are you going to tell them? Let’s just wait until we see what happens. We still don’t know if either of them is involved.”

  “And what about the people from Phoenix? We haven’t heard from them and that worries me. Doesn’t Katherine want to know what’s happening with her sister?”

  Delaware slammed his fist onto the top of the desk. “I’m praying they keep their noses out of this and wait to hear from us but my gut tells us they may be ten steps ahead of us on this.”

  “Maybe if we’d kept them in the loop—” Pelley began.

  “You don’t keep Phoenix in the loop,” Delaware spat. “You bring them in and they take over. Katherine Culhane wants to know if we’re going to get her sister back and I can’t contact her because the people she’s with are…are…”

  “Dangerous?” A funny smile twisted Pelley’s lips.

  “Let’s get moving on this,” Delaware said, shoving the bonds into the padded envelope Pelley would carry them in.

  “Give me a minute,” Pelley said, heading for the men’s room.

  * * * * *

  “I think it would have been appropriate for Ron Pelley to touch base with us after this latest email,” Rand Prescott said to Agent Hopewell. “I’m shocked that he hasn’t.”

  “I spoke to Special Agent Delaware,” the agent told him. “He’s trying to keep everything contained as much as possible. This whole ransom thing is going to be Enrique enough as it is.”

  “We were all contacted,” Prescott protested. “We should all be involved.”

  “Bad idea,” Hopewell said. “That’s not what the kidnappers want. Right now they’re calling the shots.”

  “And we’re doing nothing?” Prescott’s eyes shot up. “What the hell kind of way is that to manage this business?”

  “It’s the best way we can under the circumstances. I will be in constant telephone contact with Agent Delaware.”

  “I want to know exactly what is happening every minute,” Prescott insisted. “Eli Wright is a good business colleague and he doesn’t deserve to have this happen.”

  “No one does,” Hopewell said. “We just do the best we can.”

  Prescott just shook his head, excused himself and headed for the bathroom. Maybe he could wash away his secrets with a hot shower and no one would ever have to know.

  * * * * *

  Ryan Post had drunk himself to sleep the night before, risen with the world’s most god-awful headache and now was slugging down black coffee as fast as he could. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go home the night before. Too many shadows in the vast condo that was much too large for him. Too many things he didn’t want to think about.

  So he and the agent on the night shift had bunked down in the spa, the agent watching him as if he was a smear on a slide while he put away the booze. How could Mister Goody Two-Shoes possibly have any idea the kind of garbage he was going through. The big dream of the chain of spas. The overwhelming desire to show his sister and brother-in-law that he could beat them on the playing field. The financial roller coaster he constantly rode. The things he’d had to do to try to stabilize himself.

  Why had life decided to kick him in the head, anyway?

  Filling his mug one more time, he stumbled toward the bathroom in his private suite. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Good idea,” Hopewell muttered.

  * * * * *

  “Nando, you have to let me talk to him,” Rip hissed into his cell phone. “I can’t keep hiding in the bathroom and there’s something important he needs to know. Right this minute.”

  “You are making me very unhappy with your demands,” Nando said, the anger in his voice vibrating across the connection.

  “This is damn important and I only have a minute. Put him on. And I mean it, or I’m calling the whole thing off. You can kill the damn hostages and take the fallout.”

  “Oh? And then where will you be, mi amigo?”

  “No place where you can find me, that’s for sure.”

  There was a long silence, then Victor Herrera’s deep voice echoed in his ear.

  “This better be as important as you say it is,” he said, his voice showing his irritation. “What couldn’t you tell Nando?”

  “I wanted to make sure you knew this yourself.” He took in a breath to steady himself. “The FBI has an almost invisible GPS they put in with the bonds. Even if your courier hands off the package, they’ll still be able to track it
.”

  “Jesu Cristo.” The curse burst from his lips. “All right. We’ll need to teach them a lesson. Next time they won’t screw around with us.”

  The call was disconnected. Rip stood in the bathroom, holding the cell phone, shaking uncontrollably.

  * * * * *

  Anthony Delaware had agents all around Alamo Plaza in the guise of tourists. He’d tried to pick the best vantage points but the way the Plaza was arranged, with an interior road that swept past the landmark itself, it was difficult to predict how Pelley would be approached. If they were lucky, the contact would make the connection right in front of the Alamo, in the area where cars were forbidden, giving them all time to get into position to follow.

  Pelley was being a real pain in the ass. He hadn’t wanted the tracker in the bonds, then he’d wanted something more reliable. First he’d wanted someone sitting with him, then he wanted them all to go away.

  His nerves were so obviously shot Delaware wasn’t even sure they’d be able to get him through the handoff. Well, they’d just have to do the best they could.

  So now Pelley sat on the low stone wall facing the old mission, clutching the padded envelope to his chest and looking more suspicious than any kidnapper could appear.

  “We’re almost to handoff,” Delaware said into the throat mic concealed beneath his shirt. “Everyone set?”

  The agents all checked in. He had people on foot and people in cars, so they were covered no matter what. And everyone had been warned to follow at a good distance so the messenger wasn’t spooked.

  His eyes never stopped moving, watching the cars that pulled into vacant parking spaces, or slowed to a crawl going by. The people walking close to Pelley, only to then move away.

  When it happened it took them all by surprise. A motorcycle whipped into the circle from Alamo Plaza, came to a rolling stop in front of Pelley, the rider grabbed the envelope then revved his engine and sped away. Pelley stood up, shouting, “Wait, wait,” and looked around wildly.

  “Someone get the hell on this,” Delaware said into his mic. “Now.”

  Two vehicles pulled out into the street, following the route the motorcycle had taken.

  “I’ve got him on the tracker,” one the agents reported. “Following well behind.”

  “What the hell happened?” Pelley demanded, stalking over to Delaware. “That guy just showed up out of nowhere.”

  “We’ve got it under control,” Delaware assured him, although he wished he felt more confident about it.

  “Yeah? Well, you better hope you do and that nothing happens to the Wrights or Mari Culhane.”

  Delaware let out a tired sigh. “Let’s go back to your office and wait for the next email. The one this morning said as soon as he had the bonds you’d be notified where to find them.”

  “But you’re supposed to be finding them first, right?” Pelley argued. “What if your people lose that guy? What if the kidnapper decides not to release them? Have you even figured out which cartel is responsible for this?”

  “The office,” Delaware repeated. “We’ll talk there.”

  Deep down he had a really bad feeling about this whole thing that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

  * * * * *

  Kat did her best to keep herself calm on the drive to the airport, even though her stomach was tied in knots and her heart had kicked over into an erratic rhythm. She was so terrified for her sister and the Wrights. What if she and Mike hadn’t run into each other at the airport? What if she’d refused his invitation to lunch? What if…

  Enough. Think about what’s going to happen next.

  She just prayed that by the time they pinpointed the exact location where the hostages were being held and got there to rescue them, they’d still be in time.

  Mike sat in the backseat of the SUV with her, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him as if infusing her with his strength. She leaned against him, grateful for his warmth and his affection. At the moment it was the only thing holding her together.

  Mark turned onto the side road leading to the airport and drove through the gate, turning toward the small terminal and looking for the Phoenix helicopter. Mike had told Kat it was a good-sized Bell Ranger that they’d used when they rescued Mark, so she knew when the time came it should be sufficient for what they needed to do.

  Suddenly Mark slammed on the brakes. “What the hell?”

  Mike sat up and leaned over the back of the front seat. “What’s the matter? What… Holy shit!”

  “Oh, my god, he did it,” Faith said, her voice touched with awe.

  “What?” Kat asked. “What is it?”

  Mark moved the vehicle forward again, then stopped and turned off the engine. When Kat opened the door and hopped out her eyes widened at the sight of a grinning man leaning against the shiniest, biggest black helicopter she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen that many but she’d ridden in a couple and seen some at air shows. But certainly nothing like this.

  The sun gleamed on the black paint and the rotors looked poised to cut into the air at mach speed. This looked like a machine built for war.

  “What did you do, bro?” Mike asked, striding forward.

  Kat knew the other man had to be Ed D’Antoni. He and Mike looked too much alike not to be related.

  “Made a phone call after we hung up,” Ed told them, “caught a ride out with a friend and made a stop in El Cajon to pick up our newest toy.”

  Faith’s jaw dropped. “You guys bought a Black Hawk?”

  Mark nodded. “We have a couple of things coming up that we really decided would be handled better with one of these babies.” He ran his hand reverently over the outside.

  “What does that insignia mean?” Kat asked, pointing to a circle with the letters NOTD in the center.

  Mike laughed. “One of my brother’s little jokes. He was sick and tired of all the alphabet agencies, so this stands for Not One Damn Thing.”

  As tense as she was, Kat still couldn’t help chuckling.

  “Anyway,” Ed went on, “they said it was ready so we picked it up.”

  “We?” Mike’s eyebrows rose quizzically.

  “Yeah, got another surprise.” He rapped on the side of the ’copter, the big door slid open and three men jumped down to the ground.

  “Holy shit!” Mike just stared at them, then turned to Kat. “Kitten, meet our senior partner and the brains behind Phoenix, Dan Romeo. Next to him is Troy Arsenault and the other lug is Rick Latrobe, who I thought was still on his honeymoon.”

  Rick laughed. “Kelly’s busy setting up the new kennels so she can start her new training session and she politely told me I might just be in the way.” He looked at Kat. “She trains dogs for corporate security.”

  “I got back yesterday from that other…trip,” Troy said, “and Dan and I decided we didn’t want to miss all the fun.”

  “You didn’t think we would let you have all the fun, did you?” Dan asked.

  They’d come for her, Kat knew, because of Mike. These men had just dropped everything to help her out. Her throat tightened with tears that wanted to break loose and she had to work to croak out a, “Thank you”.

  “No thanks necessary,” Dan said. “Let’s just get going here.”

  Mike was already jogging to where their plane was parked, while Ed went into the terminal to make arrangements to move the helicopter into a hangar. They had no intention of leaving it out on the tarmac for any longer than absolutely necessary.

  “I checked the weather and filed a flight plan,” he told everyone when he came back outside.

  Mike was moving the Gulfstream out of the hangar and taxiing over to where everyone stood. When he got there, he cut the engines and climbed down.

  “Did you talk to Andy?” he asked Dan, when he came back out.

  “Yes. And he emailed me everything he sent to you. Let’s get airborne and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Are we all set inside?” Mark wanted to know.<
br />
  His partner nodded. “I told them we’d be doing some sightseeing over the Pacific and maybe down along the Baja coast. Mike said there’s a lot of traffic in that area and we can lose ourselves.”

  “Let’s hope so.” He turned to the others. “Climb in, everyone.”

  While Mike and Ed did their preflight check, everyone else climbed up into the cabin of the plane. Then the two pilots took their places in the cockpit and Mark pulled the door closed.

  Troy opened one of two hard plastic cases he’d carried off the helicopter with him and took out a small video camera, which he handed to Mark. “I’ll be taking stills while you handle this.” From another case he took three pairs of binoculars, which he passed out to the women and Dan.

  “Here’s the drill,” Dan said. “Two of us on one side of the plane, the rest on the other. Those of you with the binoculars look for anything we might need pictures of. Anything that fits with what you saw in your viewing, Kat. Even if you’re not sure, we’ll get a shot of it. Then we’ll piece everything together when we get back to the hotel.”

  Kat shifted to look at him. “I told Mike and the Hallorans if we can get a tighter fix on what we’re looking for, I can do another remote viewing session and probably get you a really clear picture of the setup. Guards, even and things like that.”

  “Good.” He reached out to tap Mike on the shoulder. “All set?”

  “Ready to go.”

  The whine of the engines filled the cabin, then they were moving forward, taxiing to the runway and with a rush and a thrust of the engines, they lifted off the ground.

  Please, please, please, Kat prayed silently, gripping her binoculars. Please let us find them in time.

  * * * * *

  Javier Santiago, the mechanic at the airport finished the chore he was completing, wiped his hands carefully on a rag he pulled from his pocket and walked to a far corner of the tarmac. Pretending to examine something on a plane at a distant tie-down, he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him, pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a speed dial number.