CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
October 12—3 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado
“Sir, I have a signal,” Alex’s Sergeant said.
He pointed to the computer screen. Alex’s friends worked in her small office under Buckley Air Force Base.
Raz looked over his shoulder, “Thank God.”
“What does that mean?” Matthew asked.
“It means that Alex is alive and able to turn on the tracking signal in her hip. It means that we can determine her location and what to do next.”
“If she’s alive, we have hope,” Colonel Gordon said.
“Let’s go get her,” Troy said. He was ready to get into action. The sitting around worrying and wondering was almost more than he could handle.
“I’m sorry,” Raz said. “We can’t do that.”
“Why? We know where she is being held. We’ll just go and kick some ass.”
“They will kill her before we even get close,” Colonel Gordon said. “Alex knows that. I’m sorry, Captain. We need to work our plan and trust Alex to endure what is to come.”
Matthew made a noise and sniffed to hold back his emotion.
Troy looked over at Matthew. “Hey, man, remember S.E.R.E.?”
Matthew stiffened. His mind flashed to the memory of lying on the cold tile, sobbing, while Alex sang children’s songs to him. He could almost hear her sing, “Itsy bitsy spider.” Matthew’s brown eyes shifted to look at Troy. “Yeah.”
“I mean, you were with her, but I heard that the staff was completely freaked out by our Alex.”
Matthew nodded. “She didn’t bat an eye. She told me once that they had asked her to annotate her S.E.R.E. tapes. She refused. She said living through it once was enough.”
“If she wasn’t affected by S.E.R.E., then why would someone try to break her down by holding her captive now?”
Raz looked up from the computer screen to Troy.
“I’d be surprised if any record of Alex’s S.E.R.E. exists. Her fathers probably destroyed the file,” Raz said. “I’ve looked for it; I can’t find it.”
Troy laughed. For the first time since he learned that Eleazar had Alex, he felt like everything was going to be all right. He caught Matthew’s eyes, and Matthew started to laugh.
“Why?” Raz asked.
“They’ll be lucky if they make it out alive,” Matthew said.
Raz looked from Matthew to Troy. Shaking his head, he returned to Alex’s computer, hoping to find something that would help him to decide what to do next.
FFFFFF
October 12—7 P.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado
Alex opened her eyes in the pitch black. She had no idea how long she had been in this room. The dark silence was disorienting. She might have been there a few hours or a few days. If she hadn’t been in so much pain, she’d have thought she was dead. She closed and opened her eyes. Either way, she saw the same darkness. Grunting with pain, she moved her hand in front of her face. She saw movement, a streak of light in the black, more than her hand.
Sighing, she heard the sound that had awakened her. Rain was dropping onto the street. Accustomed to the silence, her ears could almost hear individual drops of rain dance on the street above her. She thought she heard the sound of water moving through the gutter drains.
As her ears reached toward the symphony of sound, her tongue expanded in her mouth. Her throat constricted with thirst. She licked her dry lips.
“Jesse,” Alex said, as an out breath more than a word.
“Don’t speak to me, Alexandra. They can hear what you say,” Jesse said in Spanish.
She looked toward the sound of his voice and saw a spark of light beside her. She sighed. She wanted to talk to Jesse. The idea that she couldn’t speak to Jesse was deeply disappointing.
“Tommy taught you sign language,” Jesse said.
Alex signed: “You don’t speak sign language.”
“I only have to understand it,” he said, laughing. “They can’t hear me talk.”
“I need water. I’m very thirsty. The water they left is drugged.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” Jesse said.
“It feels like days,” Alex signed. “How long has it been?”
“I’ve never been good at that,” Jesse said,” and I’m worse now. Less than a day, I think.”
“They will most likely leave me alone for three days,” Alex signed. “It’s probably the rain, but I’m incredibly thirsty.”
“You’re injured,” he said. “That can make you thirsty.”
“Can you get me some water, Jesse?”
“I have no idea,” he said.
“I can hear water in the gutter drain. There’s a basement vent right there, and the gutter drain is just on the other side. I’m certain it’s intentional to get me to drink the drugged water.”
“It rains almost every day this time of year,” he said.
Jesse went to the wall and looked through the two-inch high and eight-inch wide space that served as a vent for the basement. Someone had placed razor wire over the inside and outside of the vent. Reaching through the vent and the razor wire, he could touch the drain. Alex was right that this drain was intended to make her feel more thirsty.
“I’ll be right back.”
Alex rested her head against the brick. As time went on, she was getting more swollen and sore.
Rubber hose. The gift that keeps on giving.
She smiled and wondered what her mother would say about the bruising. Maybe Claire could add sleeves to her wedding dress. Remembering the beautiful silk dress, she drifted into memories of John.
FF
After a day of ignoring him, she was dancing with her arms around Max’s roommate’s neck at a beach party. How did she get there?
John asked her to dance when Max left to dance with some girl. She was dancing a couple of feet from him, but this man was like a planet. Drawn by his gravitational pull, she drifted closer and closer to him until he put a hand on her waist. She was a bundle of sensations: the cool sand between her toes, the sound of the pounding surf, the music’s rhythms compelling her hips to sway, and a rising heat in her belly.
Her mind focused on the list of reasons why she was not interested in this man. First, he was not American. Second, he was her twin’s best friend. Third, he was a bed-surfing slut. Fourth, he was just off limits. That’s all. O-F-F limits. Her mind was convinced, but her body burned under his hands.
“Will you marry me?” John asked.
He said something. What did he say?
She slipped back a foot or two to look up at him, “What?”
“Marry me, Alex. Marry me tonight.”
She shook her head. “What are you saying?”
“I have this overwhelming feeling that I cannot live another moment without you in the center, the very center, of my life.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I am that. Marry me.”
Stepping forward to him, she felt a yearning for him that she had never known. Her heart ached just looking at him. His beautiful blue eyes were framed by his black curly hair. Her fingers touched his full lips.
He looked away, embarrassed by her close scrutiny.
She opened her mouth to speak. She’d tell him exactly why they should not—absolutely should not—get married. He was O-F-F limits after all. But, no words came out. She closed her mouth.
Trying again, she opened her mouth. Just opened her mouth. And the words rose from the very center of her being.
“Yes.”
“What?” he asked. He shook his head as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I’ll marry you.”
“Tonight?”
“Why not?”
FF
“Alex, wake up,” Jesse said.
Alex opened her eyes.
“I think I can do it. Did you use the bucket?”
“No,” she signed. “I don’t care if they have a mess to clean up. Plus,
I might need it.”
“Good girl,” he said. “Get your bucket.”
Alex felt around the walls until she reached the door. Bending down, she picked up the gallon bucket and felt her way back to the spark of Jesse.
“Hold the bucket above your head. Right there,” Jesse said.
Holding the bucket above her head, just under the basement vent, Jesse moved the razor wire, tearing a hole in the thin aluminum gutter drain. Jesse moved his hand, creating an electric wall, which forced the water through the basement vent and into Alex’s bucket. She stood with the bucket over her head until the rain stopped and the gutters had completely drained. There wasn’t a lot of water, four inches, maybe more, but it was enough to keep her alive. Being careful not to spill the precious water, she took one small drink.
“Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“Will you stay with me for a while? I’ve never really been alone.”
“I’m always with you, Alex.”
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October 12—8 P.M.
Buckley Air Force Base, Colorado
“Sir,” Alex’s Sergeant said.
“Yes, Sergeant,” Raz said, looking up from Alex’s computer.
“Senator Hargreaves is here and wishes to speak with you. Also, we received a message from British Intelligence. One of their agents is traveling with Ben. They should arrive in a few hours.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“And, sir?”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
“Captain Mac Clenaghan and Captain Olivas went home. I will stay until Ben arrives, and then I’m going home for a few hours. Sir, no offense meant, but Major Drayson would insist that you to go home.”
Raz’s face flushed with emotion. Raz gave an absent minded nod and returned to look at the computer.
There was no way for the Sergeant to know or understand what he had said. Raz never had a home before he met Alex. He lived in a tiny apartment in Queens with his mother until her death. He stayed in the apartment through the Police Academy. When it was time to get married, he bought a house. Even though he signed the documents and made the mortgage payments, he was always a guest in his wife’s home.
Alex made a home for him. Alex was home.
He had to fix this. He had to sort it out.
He had no idea where to start. Alex left a plan, but it didn’t make any sense now that she had sacrificed herself to Eleazar.
That’s what got him the most. Eleazar was supposed to come for him next. He should be beaten, tortured, and locked in some cold, dark cellar. He was ready. It was his turn. But Alex had stepped forward instead.
Raz rubbed his hand over his head.
“Sir, Senator Hargreaves?” Alex’s Sergeant escorted Patrick into the office.
Raz stood. “General. I’m very sorry, sir. I don’t have any news for you.”
“I didn’t come here for news, Josh,” Patrick said. “Do you mind if I call you Josh when we are alone?”
“No, sir,” Raz said. For some reason, he felt comforted hearing this great man say his name. “Why are you here?”
“I came to help,” Patrick said.
“Sir?”
“My guess is that you know where she is, but you don’t really know what to do next. Get her by force? They will kill her. Leave her, and risk her being tortured. Yet you still have no idea what they want. Is that accurate?”
“Yes, sir,” Raz said. “But . . .”
“She left a plan, but it doesn’t make any sense?”
“Yes, sir. But . . .”
“I’m a little softer and a lot older than I was when I was a Sergeant in the field, but I’m still that guy, Josh. I still even have the security clearance. Let me help. Do you know what to do?”
“No, sir.”
“Then, let’s start at the beginning. Where are Alex’s journals?”
“Alex doesn’t keep a journal. Not since her team was killed.”
“Alex always keeps a journal. Why don’t you see if you can find it? I bet it was either on her computer or . . . is there a super-secure place where Alex kept things?”
“Yes, sir, but I don’t have her passwords.”
“Lucky she has a twin. He’s outside. Shall I get him?”
“Sir?”
“Max flew to Denver when he knew Alex was in trouble. He’s talking to her Sergeant.”
“Max is a civilian.”
“Only sort of. He’s a twin first. He’ll know the passwords. Can you get me the tapes of these phone calls? And do you have her database?”
“Database, sir?”
“It should look like a spreadsheet or maybe an address book. She might have kept it on the computer, but I doubt it. She liked to work with a yellow pencil. She would have worked with the transcripts of the calls, cross checking every word, in an effort to determine what he was after. I can recreate her work from the tapes, but Alex has a real talent for understanding what motivates people—especially terrorists. That’s one of the reasons she was so good at extraction.”
Raz raised his eyebrows and ruffled his hair again.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about,” Patrick said, shaking his head.
“No, sir,” Raz said.
“You’re her partner. Right? You’ve never seen her database? Alexandra . . .” Patrick shook his head and let out a breath. “She’s not really over the loss of her team. Is she?”
“No, sir,” Raz said.
“We have work to do, then,” Patrick said.
“Sir, she had an address book at home. She said it held all the phone numbers of everyone she’d extracted.”
Patrick nodded. “In Navajo code?”
“I believe so,” Raz said.
“Good. We’ll be able to keep those details private while working with her database. Unless you speak Navajo?”
“No, sir,” Raz said.
“Where is this address book?”
“She asked Maria to keep it for her when the house came down.”
“Great. I’ll take care of the address book,” Patrick said.
Raz stood next to the computer. He wasn’t sure what to do.
“Josh?” Patrick asked.
Patrick put his hand on Raz’s arm. Breathing out, Raz broke down. With his hands against his face, Raz let a few tears fall, while blowing his overwhelm out with his breath. Standing beside him, Patrick waited for the storm to pass. With a slight smile, Patrick gave Raz a handkerchief and patted his back.
“Don’t worry, Josh. I’ve done this before.”
FFFFFF
October 13—3 A.M.
Olde Town Arvada, Colorado
“Alex?” Troy whispered through a basement vent. Cutting the razor wire off the outside, he lay down across the wet sidewalk and pressed his face into the hole. “Alex?”
He would do what the spies said—don’t go get her. That’s fine. But leave her there? By herself?
She’d never slept alone. Not even one night. She went from sharing a room with Max to military life to being married. Even when she traveled with Raz, Alex always had someone close in the dark.
Troy teased her about her lack of independence. He told her that she was a child. She would laugh. She would tell him that he was terrified of commitment. And, really, wasn’t that childish? They would laugh. He could only imagine how awful she must feel to be alone now.
After staring at his bedroom ceiling for hours, he decided that the least he could do was go by the building. She was only fifteen miles east of his house. Practically on the way to . . . some grocery store somewhere. Once there, he followed Jesse Abreu to the basement vents. A little razor wire was nothing for the needle-nose pliers in his Leatherman Mini-tool.
“Alex?”
“They are monitoring me. Don’t talk, okay?” Alex asked.
From this position, he could only see the flash of light from her blond hair. He closed his eyes when she grunted in pain. Reaching his hand through the vent, he
clipped the inside wire. He slipped a Snickers bar through the basement vent. She chuckled and took the candy from him. She stretched her fingers into the space. For a few minutes, he lay on the wet concrete, feeling the soft tips of her fingers rub against his fingertips.
“Go,” she said.
He slipped a leather glove through the space to help protect her hand from the razor wire. Together, they put the wire back. He sat back on his heels and, almost by instinct, he pulled his Mini-tool from his pocket and slipped it under the razor wire. He heard her chuckle again. Her hand waved “Good-bye” to him, and he backed away from the vent.
Looking up and down the deserted wet streets of Olde Town Arvada, he turned to walk back to his car. He was two feet from the building when he was jumped. Laughing, Troy fought with two scrawny Arabs. When the last man dropped unconscious to the ground, Troy pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. When the police arrived, he told them that he had been jumped. Of course, his newly minted Military Intelligence Department of Defense identification kept the Arvada police from asking too many questions. Anyway, Homeland Security wanted the men on charges of terrorism. Troy was doing his civic duty—that’s all.
Troy whistled as he walked to his car. At least those two weren’t going to hurt Alex anytime soon. Honking as he drove past the building, he thought he saw Jesse wave good-bye.
Maybe, now, he could get some sleep.
F
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