Drop Zone

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  Perching the tablet beside the window, she shifted in her chair to get comfortable so she could people watch.

  * * *

  Seth saw the jet’s contrail long before he heard it. They had cleared the evergreens a couple miles back and were now hiking steadily uphill through a narrow clearing. “What do you think? It looks like a passenger plane to me.”

  “I agree,” Brent said, slowing his steps as he looked upward. “We’re in a good spot right now to keep it in sight and double-check our heading.” He turned to the rest of the squad. “Everyone take a break. Get some rest while you can.”

  “Brent, do you care if I forage around here to see if I can find something for us to eat?” Jay asked. “It’s been awhile since lunch, and it would be nice to have something besides pineapple.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on the plane,” Seth offered.

  “Sounds good.” Brent settled down on the ground and leaned up against a thick palm a few feet from where Quinn had already stretched out and was using his pack for a pillow.

  A colorful bird resembling a parrot fluttered its wings above them. It quieted for a few minutes, just long enough for both Quinn and Brent to fall asleep. Then it started squawking as though annoyed that they had invaded its territory.

  They both ignored it for several minutes, the bird continuing to express its frustrations. But then Quinn opened one eye. “I swear, if that bird doesn’t shut up, I’m going to shoot it.”

  “Save your ammo,” Tristan said and stood up to chase the bird away. He picked up a stick and swung it at the bird, only to have it squawk louder.

  “That worked well,” Quinn said. He pulled his sidearm free. “If I shoot it, we can eat it for dinner tonight.”

  “It’s not big enough for dinner. For you, it probably isn’t even big enough for a snack. Besides, I don’t want to make a fire,” Brent responded with his eyes still closed.

  Jay walked into the clearing with an armful of fruit and gave Seth a dopey grin. “Are they really battling a bird right now?”

  “Yeah, and they’re losing.”

  “Shut up, Seth,” Quinn said without heat, shifting to get comfortable once more.

  “Well, I have some bananas if anyone wants one.” Jay set several bunches on the ground. He picked a banana up, peeled it, and took a huge bite. Then he made a face and spat out the fruit he had just tasted. “Gross. That is not a banana.”

  Quinn pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at the fruit. “No, it’s a plantain, and it isn’t ripe. You’ll want to cook it so it doesn’t taste so bitter.”

  “I don’t have time to cook it.” Jay spat on the ground to try to get the taste out of his mouth.

  “Besides, Brent doesn’t want us to build a fire, right, Brent?” Seth added.

  “That’s right.”

  Jay looked down at his wasted labor and scowled. “Maybe we should send Quinn out looking for food next time.”

  The bird squawked again, and Quinn eyed it. “If I fix dinner, we’re going to need a fire.”

  Chapter 22

  Paige pulled up in front of the self-storage warehouse. The man she had spoken to on the phone had given her this address and what she thought was an apartment number. Could it have been the number for a locker?

  She climbed out of her car and headed for the office only to find it locked. She looked around, seeing no one. Then she looked at her watch and saw she was right on time. The whirr of a motor sounded, and she turned to see the automatic gate beside her swing open. For a moment, she felt like she was in the middle of some sort of spy movie. Then she remembered. She was, sort of. Only it wasn’t fiction. It was real.

  Her heartbeat picked up as she moved forward and walked through the gate. She was several yards inside when she jumped at the sound of it closing behind her. Now locked in, she had no choice but to keep going. She looked at the numbers posted outside the lockers and found the one she was looking for six units down.

  “I gather you’re new at this.”

  Paige’s hand went to her chest, and she whirled around to see a man in his late twenties standing behind her. “You startled me.”

  “You startle easily.” He didn’t introduce himself but opened the door that led inside. “Did you bring the stuff?”

  “Yes.” Paige opened her bag and retrieved the passport photos. “But I don’t understand . . .”

  “And the phone?”

  Paige reached back into her bag and handed over the unopened phone as well.

  He took it out of her hand and headed inside the unit. She stood outside, not sure what to do.

  “Are you coming in, or are you going to stand outside and freeze?”

  Paige reminded herself that she didn’t even know this man’s name. Then another consideration overshadowed her doubts. Vanessa trusted him.

  She walked into the storage unit to find it was outfitted like a workshop. A workbench stretched along the wall to her right, and various tools hung from racks on the walls.

  He was already standing at the bench, affixing her passport photo to a passport that read Jessica Archibald. Paige stepped forward. “Is that a phony passport?”

  “Hand me that over there.” He pointed to a thin sheet that looked like clear plastic.

  Paige did as she was asked and watched as the man laminated her photo in place. “Why are you making me a fake passport?”

  “Because Vanessa thinks you’re going to need it.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “So it seems.” He laid the passport aside and shifted his attention to the phone. He took it out of the package and pulled off the back cover to expose the battery compartment.

  When the man picked up a soldering iron, Paige asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Disabling the GPS.” He remained concentrated on his task.

  Paige tried to figure out why in the world Vanessa had sent her here to this man and what she was expected to do next. Since he clearly wasn’t going to talk to her until he was good and ready, all she could do was stand and watch him while he worked.

  Fifteen minutes later, he opened a drawer in his workbench and pulled out a thick manila envelope. He slid the new passport inside it. Then he turned on the phone.

  “Where’s the phone Vanessa gave you to contact her with?”

  “How did you know . . . ?”

  “I know Vanessa.” He held out his hand until she passed the phone to him.

  “She sent me a couple of files, but they’re encrypted, and I haven’t been able to figure out how to retrieve them.”

  “I can take care of that.” He plugged a cord into her phone and connected it to a laptop at the end of his workspace. As soon as he downloaded the files and started a decryption program, he retrieved Vanessa’s current cell phone number and programmed it into the new phone. When that task was complete, he sent Vanessa a text message that included nothing more than a five-digit code.

  “What’s that?”

  “That’s the proof for Vanessa that this is the phone I set up for you. You’ll use this one now instead of the other one.” He took the back off of the phone Vanessa had given her and took the battery out.

  “Wait. I need that phone. It’s how I’m supposed to communicate with the deputy director of operations.”

  “Did Vanessa tell you to call Warren?”

  Paige noticed this man’s casual use of the DDO’s first name. “Not exactly.”

  He retrieved her old phone, stuck the battery in, and turned it on. Then he sent a text message to Warren. This time, the message was a single letter: G.

  As he proceeded to disassemble the phone again, Paige asked, “Will he know what that means?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It means you’re getting your resources from me now and he won’t want to know about it.”

&nb
sp; “You and Vanessa aren’t planning on doing anything illegal, are you?”

  “Not illegal. Just under the radar.” When he saw the confusion on Paige’s face, the guy relented and expanded on his answer. “Warren has people he has to answer to. This is one of those times he may be better off not knowing what’s going on.”

  He took the battery out again and dropped both the phone and the battery into a plastic bag and then slid it into the bulging manila envelope. After closing the clasp, he handed the packet over to Paige.

  “Exactly what is all this?”

  “Your passport, some surveillance and audio tools, a jamming device, and a few other toys,” he said. “As soon as Vanessa calls you, she’ll let you know what to do.”

  “Thanks,” Paige said, though she was still confused. She took a step toward the door before turning back to face him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “They call me Ghost.”

  “Ghost?”

  He nodded toward the door. “You’d better get going. If I know Vanessa, you need to pack. I have a feeling you’ll be taking a trip very shortly.”

  Paige hadn’t gotten any indication from her conversation with Vanessa that she would be traveling anytime soon, but she didn’t feel like she knew enough to dispute Ghost’s observation. Instead, she said, “Thanks for giving me a safe way to talk to her.”

  “Don’t call her unless you don’t hear from her in the next twenty-four hours. Let her call you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you don’t know if she’s still trying to establish a safe zone. She may need to stay dark a bit longer.” He must have mistaken Paige’s sense of uncertainty for a lack of understanding because he expounded on his answer. “You know, off the grid, not using electronics?”

  “Right.” Paige started toward the door once more. Then she remembered the encrypted files. “What about the files Vanessa sent me?”

  “I’ll forward them to your phone as soon as I’m done decrypting them. It could take an hour or two.” He opened a cooler tucked along the wall beside the door. “There’s one more thing you forgot.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled out a bag from a local deli. “Lunch.”

  “Why are you giving me lunch?” Paige asked.

  “Because you’re going to tell the people at the office that you stopped by the deli to pick up lunch. That’s why it took you so long.”

  “Wow. You think of everything.”

  “That’s my job.”

  Paige offered him a smile. “You do it well.”

  “Let’s hope I do it well enough.”

  * * *

  Paige walked into Damian’s office to find him prowling around the room. His focus seemed to be torn between the map on the wall and the doorway she had just entered. She saw relief on his face. “What took you so long?”

  “I thought I’d stop and pick up some lunch.” Paige set a plastic bag down on her desk. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

  “No, not yet.” He crossed to her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump on you like that, but I was worried about you.”

  Touched by his obvious concern, she reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s okay. I should have called to let you know I was running later than I expected.”

  “This is really nice of you. What did you get?”

  Since she didn’t know the answer, she started pulling out sandwiches, lining all four of them up on her desk. “See for yourself.”

  “Why did you get so many?”

  “I thought Kel might want one too, and I wasn’t sure what everyone would like.” She motioned for him to choose one. “Do you want me to go see if Kel is in his office?”

  “That’s all right. I can call him.” Damian picked up his phone and dialed the commander’s office. When he hung up, he told Paige, “He’ll be right over.”

  True to his word, Kel walked in a minute later. “So what did you bring me?”

  “Take your pick,” Paige offered.

  As soon as they all had their lunch, Kel sat down in Quinn’s chair. “Have you guys had any more luck with tracking down Morenta or getting ahold of Vanessa?”

  Realizing she couldn’t hold back such important information from Kel, she said, “I got a text message from Vanessa a little while ago. She sent me two files that I’m having decrypted.”

  Relief filled Kel’s voice. “Then she’s all right?”

  “So far.” Paige slid one of the sandwiches closer to her but didn’t unwrap it. “I’ll feel better when I can hear her voice on the phone.”

  “Have you tried calling her again?” Kel asked.

  “No. I’m supposed to wait for her to call me.”

  “Says who?” Damian asked before Kel had a chance to.

  “It’s just how it works. Something about making sure she can’t be traced by any electronic signatures.”

  “She should be using a clean phone, but I guess that makes sense.” Kel sounded hesitant but didn’t press Paige for more information.

  Paige’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She reached for it and then remembered. It was her other cell phone, the one Ghost had given her. She pulled it free of her purse and opened the e-mail that had been sent to it.

  “I just got the files Vanessa sent. They were photos.” Paige read through the decrypted message Vanessa had sent with the pictures. “She said the woman was dressed as a custodian, but she was pretty sure she was following her. The man approached her as she was leaving the airport and said he was her contact, but he called her by her real name.”

  “Can you pull up the pictures?”

  “Sure.” She opened the first one, which was of a man passed out in a car. “Any idea who he is?”

  “Never seen him before,” Kel said. “What about the other one?”

  “No way.” Paige breathed the words under her breath when she looked at the photo.

  “What?”

  “I know who this woman is.” Paige looked up at the two men watching her expectantly. “But I was told she was dead.”

  “Dead?” Damian repeated.

  “I was counseling someone who was struggling with her death. He was convinced she was alive. He was right.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Andrea Kemper. She was an undercover CIA operative in Colombia, in Morenta’s organization. She reportedly went overboard while sailing and was presumed to have drowned at sea.”

  “How close were they to shore?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but it was far enough out that she couldn’t have swum ashore safely.”

  “Then she must have had some help to disappear like that. What’s her nationality?”

  “She’s from the U.S. There weren’t any significant international ties for her other than the ones the CIA created.”

  “Maybe she decided to join forces with Morenta for real.”

  “Maybe,” Paige said uncertainly. “When I noticed her name in a report on Morenta earlier, I thought maybe she’d gotten in over her head and faked her own death to protect her family.”

  “Sounds like you may need to do another psych profile,” Kel said.

  “I guess so.” Paige looked up at the wall, which was now nearly covered with sticky notes. Damian pointed to the empty stretch of wall near his desk. “Use that one. I’ll get you some more sticky notes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Let’s send these photos to NCIS and see if they can get a hit on the man,” Kel said.

  “I’d rather keep this in the CIA’s realm. With a dead helicopter pilot and the Saint Squad missing, we can’t be sure if there are still leaks within the navy.”

  “Okay, have it your way, but we need it quickly,” Kel insisted.

  “I’ll forward them right now and see what I can get from CIA headquarters.”

  “Keep me posted.” Kel picked up the remainder of his sandwich. “I want an update in two hours.”

  “I guess we’d better get started.”


  Half an hour was all it took for the CIA to get the information Paige had requested. She looked over the computer files and the analysis that accompanied the identities of the two individuals.

  “What do they say?” Damian asked.

  Paige skimmed through the first file. “Alex Brown is currently an employee at one of the field offices. He’s administrative, so he hasn’t had any field training.”

  “Any idea who he might be working with?”

  “I don’t think he was working with anyone but us. He said he got a message to go pick up Vanessa Johnson at the airport, and when he tried to, she attacked him and locked him in his car.”

  “I would have thought Vanessa would use an alias when she travels.”

  “She was using an alias. That’s probably what tipped her off,” Paige said. “I don’t know why someone would send this guy to pick her up, though, if the woman was there to try to get to her.”

  “I have no idea. What about the woman?”

  “This is interesting. Take a look.” Paige pointed to her computer screen, inviting Damian to read over her shoulder. “The agency confirmed that this is Andrea Kemper.”

  “Do they have any idea why she might have faked her own death?”

  “They have analysts looking into it, but it will probably be at least a few hours before we hear anything.”

  “I don’t know if I can take much more of this, just sitting around waiting for people to figure out what to do,” Damian said.

  “Have you had any luck figuring out where your team might be?”

  Damian looked back at the map and stared at it as though willing it to give him the answers. “I might have an idea.”

  “Well?” Paige asked.

  “I need to do a little more research, but I’ll let you know when I get it figured out.”

  Chapter 23

  It was time for action, and after a day and a half of analysis, Damian was ready to move. He had scoured the various possibilities in the search area, eliminating them one by one. Finally, he had a destination in mind, even though he still wasn’t sure about the specifics.