by Desiree Holt
“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 mike 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 mike. “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 NODT 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.
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 his chore, 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.
“It is me,” he told the person who answered. “I have some information.”
“What kind?” Nando asked at the other end of the connection.
The mechanic had gotten this job through the influence of Victor Herrera, in exchange for keeping his eyes and ears open. Over the past few years he had fed the cartel leader bits and pieces of information, justifying his situation. But today he was sure he had something that would earn him recognition with the man.
“You will tell El Jefe that I was the one who called with this?” the man asked anxiously. “I want him to know it was me.”
“Just tell me what you have,” Nando snapped. “For all I know it may be completely useless. Some of the things you have told me turned out to be nothing.”
“But not this time,” Javier protested. “A big plane landed here yesterday. Gulfstream.”
“So what? Plenty of them land at your airport. They mean nothing to us.”
“But these people spoke to the pilots of the plane you told me to hide in a hangar,” he went on, his hand clutching the cell tighter. “To have someone call the manager and pretend to be one of those pilots.”
There was a long moment of silence before Nando spoke again. “What about them?”
“I overheard them ask the pilots a lot of questions when they finally showed up. They are here about the people who…are visiting you.”
“And?” Nando prodded impatiently. “You called me about them yesterday. One would suspect others to be looking for them.”
“Today another group of men arrived to meet with them. These people came in a brand new Black Hawk.”
Javier could hear Nando cursing fluently.
“Do you know who they are?”
“I finally got a chance to check on the computer when the manager was out of the terminal. They are owned by a company called the Phoenix Agency.”
The cursing became louder and more violent.
“These people are a curse,” Nando spat. “They mean nothing good for us. I would rather deal with the government.”
“So this is important?” Javier asked, still anxious that his contribution be recognized.
“Important in a bad way,” Nando told him. “Along with the other news he received today, El Jefe will be in a rage. We will have to do some maneuvering. All right. You have done well. I must let El Jefe know about this new turn of events immediately. Son of a bitch.”
The mechanic stood there, holding a dead phone, hoping somewhere in all of this was a reward for him.
* * * * *
Everyone was on edge as the plane flew over the foothills of the Occidental West Sierra Madres in Sinaloa. Mike took them down as low as he could without drawing suspicions from anyone on the ground.
Troy Arsenault had the small video camera on, scanning right to left as they passed one area, then another. Troy shot footage first fr
om one side, then the other, until they were all sure they’d covered the maximum area needed to pinpoint locations and plan an extraction.
Mike took the plane higher and headed back to San Diego.
* * * * *
The hostages were sitting on the floor, backs against the wall, trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible. Through the high, narrow slit of a window they could see the sun had risen to its zenith and the heat in the small hut was again growing to an almost unbearable level. Mari though if they did manage to get out of this she might take a trip to Alaska where she could wrap the cold around herself for a week or so.
Her clothes, like everyone else’s, were sticky with sweat and they were all beginning to smell a little ripe. And despite everyone’s brave protestations, the sweat came as much from fear about their situation as anything else. If only she was a telepath, like some of Kat’s friends, she could be sending messages out to tell people where they were.
Katherine’s friends will find us. I have to hang onto that.
The swelling on Eli’s nose had finally gone down a little and he looked as if it wasn’t throbbing quite as much, but she could see he still had difficulty breathing. Mari’s head no longer felt as if a jackhammer was trying to drive its way through it but in its wake she was left with a dull ache that kept her on the edge of nausea.
Mari could see that Lissa was finally beginning to fray at the ages. She was surprised that the young girl had lasted as long as she had, showing a level of courage many young people didn’t have.
“What’s that?” Lissa asked, as the sound of an engine straining stopped outside the door. Everyone jumped when the door slammed open with its usual ferocious sound and Mari wondered what was happening now. They had already had what she supposed was the noon meal of water and the dreaded tortillas, so why was Pedro standing in front of them with a vicious scowl on his face?
As he’d done before, Eli pushed Lissa in back of him. Sydney stood on one side of him, and Mari moved to the other. Pedro and Enrique looked beyond unhappy. They pointed their rifles at the group.