Freeze Frame

by Judith Rochelle

  Delaware had to restrain himself to keep from punching the other man. “I think you can handle that yourself. Just make it snappy.”

  Luisa stopped next to him on the way out of the room and leaned close to him, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Anthony? I can decipher Señor Rasgon for you. We still won’t know exactly who he is but it will narrow things down.”

  He tugged her into a corner of the room. “Okay. I’m all ears.”

  * * * * *

  The hostages glanced around their new prison. Just as they’d thought, it was almost a duplicate of the other one. Adobe walls, dirt floor, filthy, crude bathroom facilities. The first thing Mari did was check to make sure this bathroom had paper towels, wet a batch of them and made sure everyone wiped their faces. She insisted on cleaning the cut on Sydney’s face as best she could, praying that the signs of infection she was seeing were superficial and water would keep it at bay.

  Sydney and Lissa seemed at the end of their resources. Eli urged them to sit down, backs to the wall and close their eyes. Lissa leaned over and put her head in her mother’s lap. When Mari was confident they had dozed off she motioned for Eli to stand in a corner with her. She had assessed the situation much as he had and pointed to the window.

  “I saw it too,” Eli said. “If we can figure out the guard rotation, it might be a possibility.”

  “What do you think happened?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Do you think there was trouble with the ransom?”

  “I wish I knew. I’m still trying to figure out how this whole thing was set up. Someone had to give these people the information on our flight, when we’d be in San Diego, where we’d be eating lunch.”

  Mari hesitated a moment before speaking. “I hate to say this but do you think it could be Ryan? I’m sorry but I couldn’t help overhearing the argument in your office when he came to borrow money.”

  Eli gave a mirthless laugh. “It’s no big secret. He had a very public argument with Sydney at the country club at a fundraising dinner.” He shook his head. “He blew through his trust fund like an alligator through bait and I don’t know exactly what shape his spas are in. Or what other mess he might have gotten himself into.”

  “It’s just so hard to think of him involved in something this despicable.” She shook her head. “Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m just praying very hard that my sister’s friends can figure something out.”

  “I’ve heard the Phoenix Agency is very good,” Eli told her, “but are they this good? No one even knows where we are.”

  Mari nibbled on her thumbnail, wondering if she should tell Eli her sister’s secret. Then she figured, What the hell? We could all be facing death, anyway.

  “My sister, Katherine, could be their ace in the hole.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Katherine’s a clairvoyant but with a specific slant to it. She does remote viewing.”

  He stared at her. “You mean she ‘sees’ things?”

  “Yes. If she has coordinates, she can ‘view’ the location and tell you what’s happening there. Or she can work from a photo, or sometimes even the photos of the people involved.”

  “God.” He blew out a breath. “If only she can ‘see’ where we are. That may be our only hope.”

  “I know that if Katherine can give them the details they want, the Phoenix Agency has what it takes to rescue us.”

  ‘So we should pray for Katherine, right?” His grin was lopsided. “Meanwhile, help me figure out the situation with the guards. If we get any kind of lag time, maybe we can make it through that window and out through the trees.”

  “We’ll need a lot of luck,” Mari pointed out. “And then we have to pray we can find someone to help us who doesn’t work for our so-called host before we all get lost and die.”

  Eli grimaced. “Hardly a pleasant thought. Okay, let’s see what we can do to help ourselves while sending thoughts and prayers to your sister.”

  * * * * *

  Kat wanted to shout at everyone to hurry, hurry, hurry until they landed back in San Diego and drove to the hotel. They were barely in the suite she and Mark were sharing before she asked to have the camera unloaded onto the laptop, almost grabbing it from Dan’s hands in her haste.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him, pulling back. “I just—”

  “It’s okay.” He smiled at her. “We’re all anxious.”

  He removed the SIM card from the camera, inserted it in the laptop’s reader and gave it the command to unload. In seconds rows of pictures began unwinding across the screen, more than a hundred all told.

  “God.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How will I ever figure out which ones to concentrate on?”

  “Take it easy, kitten.” Mike came up behind her, eased her into a chair, rubbed her shoulders to ease the tension. “You know what you’re looking for. Let’s just take them one at a time. Meanwhile Troy can replay the disk from the video camera on the other laptop.”

  Faith called room service and ordered sandwiches and drinks, with a pot of hot tea for Kat, telling them there was an extra tip if they got it up to the suite right away. Then they began the process.

  Someone poured Kat a cup of tea as soon as the food arrived and she sipped at it absently, refusing anything to eat as she studied photo after photo, trying to find just the right one that would help her “see” what she needed to.

  “There!” She almost dropped her cup in her excitement as she pointed to one picture. “Right there. All of these. There’s five of them. See?”

  Mike leaned over her shoulder. “You mean that small piece of roof and the tiny bit of dirt clearing?”

  “Yes. I know it isn’t much but that’s the building I saw. I know that’s where they’re being held. Can you print these out?”

  “No problem,” Dan told her. He selected each frame, hit print and they began to spit out of the printer. He spread them out in front of her in a row. “What’s next?”

  Kat studied each one carefully. Finally she looked up. “Okay. I’m ready. Mike?”

  “Got it.” He closed the drapes in the room, left only one lamp on low and moved everyone away from the table.

  Kat breathed deeply, wiping everything else from her mind, stared at the photos, closed her eyes, then opened them again. The scene was so clear for a moment she thought she was actually at the place. She saw the entire adobe hut, the dirt clearing at the back and to the side, one tree with its branches overhanging the roof. The field of marijuana. A huge field.

  A large, heavyset man in sweat-stained khakis sat on a tree stump just outside the cabin cradling a large gun in his hands. Rifle, she thought. She wished she were more familiar with guns.

  The dog she’d seen before came into view, sniffing around the man with the gun.

  A black van pulled up and two men emerged, one of them lifting a huge tray from the interior. The door to the hut was opened and there they were!

  Kat gasped as she saw them, the Wrights and Mari, dirty, bedraggled but still keeping it together. They all moved back from the door as the tray was set down on the floor, one of the men gestured with a gun, then they backed out of the hut and shut the door. A large piece of wood was slammed into a hook to keep the door locked from the outside.

  The two men stopped while one of them spoke to the man on the stump, then they climbed into the van and drove away.

  The picture wobbled, fading in and out and then it was gone.

  Kat had been drawing on the pad of paper in front of her. Now she blinked her eyes, asked Mike to turn the lights on and pointed to the pad.

  “Got something?” he asked.

  “I think so.” She struggled to keep the excitement from her voice. What if she was wrong? Carefully she described what she’d see, detail by detail and showed them the rough sketch she’d made while “viewing” the location. “I saw them,” she said. “They’re alive. I really saw them.”

  “All right.” Dan sat down next to her and took her sketc
h, placing it with the photos she’d been studying. “We need to go over every photo carefully, see if we can find any approaches to the hut where we’re not exposed. You said only one guard?”

  Kat nodded. “Two others come to bring them food and water but I don’t know how often.”

  “Not at night, I’m sure. That’s when we’d have to go in, anyway.” He looked at the other men. “All right, pull up a chair, guys. Let’s get to work and figure out exactly how we’re going to do this. I need two of you to study all the still shots and give me an idea of the geography around the estancia. Troy, play that video disk again and give me all you can. And we need to make a list of the things we’ll have to take with us.”

  “I also saw a dog,” Kat added. “You need to be on the lookout for it. If it’s a trained attack dog…” She let her words trail away.

  “So noted,” Dan said.

  Kat moved away from the table, carrying her tea with her and dropped into one of the big chairs in a corner. Faith brought her a plate with a sandwich on it and put it on the little table next to her.

  “I know you’re not hungry but you have to eat. It won’t do anyone any good if you get sick.”

  Kat obediently picked up a sandwich half and began to nibble on it. “Can they really do this?” she asked. “Go in and get them out?”

  Faith smiled at her. “I was with them when they went into Peru to get Mark. They pulled him right out of the heart of a terrorist camp and took everyone down while they did it.”

  “But there may be more guards around the hut where the…hostages are being held.” She still had a hard time getting the word out. “I could be wrong, you know.”

  Faith pulled up a footstool and sat down in front of her, reaching out to touch her hand. “Trust your instincts. That’s what I do. And trust the guys. They know what they’re doing.”

  “This is the first time it’s been so personal for me.”

  “I know. Just be glad that Brent Fontaine showed up in the wrong place and the wrong time for him and we were able to get him out of the way. Your powers seem a lot stronger since then.”

  “They are.” She put the half-eaten piece of sandwich back on the plate. “Has Mark heard any more about him?”

  “Detective Wagner said they had someone from the Tampa Police Department meet the plane and take him into custody. When they began looking into his background, the names of several other women he’d stalked turned up, so the TPD thinks it can make a good case against him. And he won’t be in any position to bother you for a long time.”

  “I can’t believe how stupid I was getting mixed up with him.”

  Faith smiled. “We all do things we regret. But you were smart enough to walk away from him.”

  Kat dropped her eyes to her lap. “Mike and I had some…issues to work out.”

  “Well, it looks like you did. I can tell he cares for you a great deal.”

  “You think so? I’m not imagining it?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve had enough opportunity to see the playboy in action. I know when he’s hit and hit hard. Whatever he feels for you is good and strong.”

  “Thanks.” Kat gave her a tentative smile. “I really appreciate you saying that.”

  “I’m only telling the truth.” Faith winked at her.

  They heard the ringing of a cell phone, everyone pulled theirs out and looked to see who was getting the call.

  “Me,” Mark told them and flipped open the phone. “Go ahead.” He listened for a few minutes, nodding his head. “Good. Good. Excellent work. Now I’ve got something else for you to do.” He chuckled. “You didn’t want to sleep anyway, did you?”

  “What’s up?” Dan asked.

  “Andy’s sending us more info on the three men involved. He’s found some additional stuff that looks pretty hinky. I also gave him the coordinates of Herrera’s estancia and asked for satellite imagery of the area.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “He’s getting pretty good at stealing it.”

  At that moment the soft ding! of a bell announced the arrival of a new email. Andy had forwarded the latest email from the kidnappers.

  “Fifteen million?” Dan stared at the screen.

  “Shit.” Mike slammed his fist on the table. “The feds screwed up somehow this morning and now the hostages are going to have to pay for it.”

  “Mike?” Kat put a tentative hand on his arm.

  He turned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his warmth. “Don’t sweat it, kitten. We’ll get them.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” She pointed at the email. “He’s calling someone Señor Rasgon. It’s the first time he’s addressed anyone by name.”

  “It’s got to be some nickname for the key person he’s dealing with. He must be very pissed off to do that. We just have to figure out whose nickname it is.” He shook his head. “Maybe Andy can run it through the Dragon.”

  “You don’t need Andy for this,” she corrected. “I can translate. But it could belong to any of the three we’ve keyed in on. You’ll have to figure out which one.” And she translated from the Spanish for them.

  Mike whistled. “Damn and double damn. Now we just have to find out which one it is.”

  “No small task,” Mark said.

  “Let’s get these people back and then I have an idea how we can figure it out. If we snatch the hostages from under Herrera’s nose, he’ll be all over Señor Rasgon like white on rice. One the hostages are safe, we need to connect with the very hostile Agent Anthony Delaware and see if he’ll go along with our plan.”

  “I don’t think he’ll have a choice if he wants to wrap this up. He can have all the credit. We just want to take down Señor Rasgon.” Dan stacked the photos together. “Let’s go over this one more time. We don’t have a lot of margin for error.”

  * * * * *

  As soon as the Gulfstream had left the airfield, the mechanic called Nando to report to him. He called back when they returned.

  “They filed a flight plan for Baja,” he said. “They weren’t gone long enough to go anyplace else.”

  “Nothing for this area of Mexico?” Nando pushed.

  “No, nothing at all. And I timed them carefully.”

  Nando was silent a moment. “Still,” he said at last, “they could have been one of the planes flying over here this afternoon. But if they were they were too high up and flew too fast to see anything. Keep an eye on both aircraft and let me know if they take either one out again.”

  “Si, Nando. I promise.”

  But the mechanic had not counted on special orders from his boss, who at that moment came strolling across the tarmac from the terminal building.

  “Problem?” the man asked, looking at the mechanic’s worried face.

  “No, no. Just some family complications.”

  “Hope it’s nothing serious. I need you to take a run up to Los Angeles.”

  The mechanic struggled to keep the dismay from showing on his face. “Los Angeles? Now? It’s after six o’clock. I was just getting ready to leave.” Now he wished he told the man the call was about a family emergency.

  The manager shrugged. “I’ll pay you double for the overtime. Cisco is working on the Phelps plane and needs a part tonight. I can’t break him loose from the job to go get it because he’s in the middle of other maintenance work on the plane.”

  Francisco Antinor was the other mechanic who worked full-time at the airfield. Javier cursed silently at the job that would take him away from the airfield.

  “I can finish what he’s doing,” he told the manager, “if he wants to make the extra by going to L.A.”

  His boss looked at him strangely. “Is there some reason you don’t want do to this? Something you need to tell me?”

  Javier swallowed the sick feeling creeping up his throat. “No, no. No problem. Give me the information and I’ll leave right away.”

  He just prayed that neither of the Phoenix aircraft took off while he was gone.

&nbs
p; * * * * *

  “But we still don’t know which one of them to pinpoint,” Mark said, reading the email from Andy that he’d printed out. He was handing each sheet around as he finished with it.

  “Well, we know each of them is a strong possibility,” Dan pointed out. “They’re all in trouble.”

  “Andy dug out some offshore accounts that Pelley’s been siphoning money off to,” Mike told them, reading the sheet in his hand. “That must be how he’s covering his investment losses.”

  “He’s covered it well,” Dan commented. “He’s got a whole structure of phony companies set up that on the surface look legit. He’s probably counting on the fact that Eli Wright trusts him so much he doesn’t look any further than the financials Pelley gives him. I have a strong hunch he’s also laundering drug money through there too, for a cut of the profits. I think somewhere he invested in something Herrera had his fingers in and he got hooked.”

  “Ryan Post is in big trouble with his spas,” Mark told them, looking at what he’d printed out. “He’s borrowed money at a high rate of interest from some banks outside the federal banking system. If any of it came from Herrera, there’s your connection. Also, the DEA suspects him of using the Mexico facility to process drugs into the States, which Herrera could be leveraging him to do.”

  “Even Rand Prescott is not looking too good. He’s under investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission for inflating the value of the stock in a couple of his development companies, one of which he’s in partnership with Eli Wright. And there’s a lot of curiosity about where the original capital actually came from.”

  “So any of the three of them could be the one working with the cartel,” Faith mused, “or it could in fact be all of them, with one lead person directing the dance. Herrera was in a position to get his hooks into all of them and they all had both access to and an axe to grind with Eli Wright. He could have forced them to act in concert hoping to throw us of as to the real contact. We’re still no further ahead with something we can actually prove.”

  “No.” Her husband shook his head. “Not true. Andy’s got the Dragon cranking away on Señor Rasgon and the translation of the name. If anyone can find it, he can. Then we’ll have a starting point.”