Snake Bite

by Jim Heskett

  Brendall’s wince evened out. Not quite into a smile, but he did seem to relax a little. “Thanks. I’ve been on the job for a while, you know. You learn a few things.”

  “Who were those guys back there?”

  “They’re known as Pahana. A criminal organization. Loosely organized, I suppose you could say. They mostly operate on the reservation, but they do come out for big jobs. Your friend, the one you mentioned, you think they kidnapped him?”

  Layne shook his head. “They might have helped. It’s an old tradecraft practice to seek out people who can profit from an action like that and work your way in. There’s always a hierarchy, and even if they had nothing to do with it, there’s a good chance they could at least know something.”

  Brendall breathed for a few seconds. “And I messed that up for you, didn’t I?”

  “It’s okay. That clearly wasn’t the right avenue to pitch them, anyway. I didn’t have much to bargain with.”

  The cop nodded and sucked on his teeth. “You’re not a private investigator on the hunt for stolen sugar gliders.”

  “No. No, I’m not. Sorry about that.”

  “You a fed?”

  Layne shook his head. “Private citizen. Just trying to find my friend. If it makes any difference, he is a fed. He’s a computer engineer. Operational support for various agencies. Not the sort of person who can handle himself in the field. That’s why it’s imperative I find him as soon as possible and extract him before these people can hurt him.”

  Brendall’s eyes fell on the tattoo on his upper bicep, the one of the skull wearing a beret, with the word ranger below it. Layne had never been in the military. This tattoo had been for an operation a long time ago, but it did cause people to assume all sorts of things about him.

  “Well,” Brendall said, “wherever you came from, it’s none of my business. I know what it’s like to have secrets.” Then, after a long pause, he said, “Let me help you.”

  Layne turned in his seat to face him. “Are you serious?”

  “You need a local contact. I owe you one.”

  “I need to know what was in the suitcase you gave to them.”

  Brendall winced again, and a single tear cascaded down his right cheek. “Drugs, from evidence. I’m not proud of it, but I owed them money, so it had to be done. Plus, I could get rid of the stash. It’s a lot easier to take it from evidence than it is to put it back.” He had to stop speaking for a few seconds to regain his composure and clear his throat. “I changed my mind, and I went back there to take it from them. But, then you were there, about to be escorted into the RV. I know what they do to people in that RV. It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

  “My rental car is back there,” Layne said.

  His phone beeped, and he looked down to see he had returned to the land of cell phone service. A message from Daphne was waiting for him. Layne unlocked his phone to read that she had someone local in Denver now keeping an eye on Inessa and Cameron, and they were both safe and sound. He replied his thanks and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

  “I’ll have someone come get your car and bring it back to Sedona,” Brendall said. “That’s no problem. Look, if you don’t want my help, I get it. But, I can be useful to you. I know the criminal element around here if that’s your angle. I don’t know who took your friend, but I can point you in the right direction.”

  Layne’s phone buzzed again, and he took it out to check it. A text from Serena, saying she had a flight and she would be at the Red Rock Inn first thing in the morning.

  Layne put the phone back into his pocket and sighed, weighing Brendall’s offer.

  24

  Layne awoke to find his phone rattling along the nightstand. Before he picked it up, a spike of tension poked at his spine. Today was the last day, according to Ronald Gaynor. If Layne didn’t find the NSA report and provide it to his captor, Harry would die.

  Layne answered the phone as he sat up in bed. Frigid air from the wall unit air conditioner cooled the sweat on his back.

  “Did I wake you?” asked Daphne.

  “No. Well, yes, but it’s time to get up. You beat my alarm by five minutes.”

  “I wanted to give you an update on your ex and your kid. We have no reason to think anyone has plans to snatch them. My guy in Denver hasn’t seen anything.”

  “Can you keep someone on them? Please? Just for another day or two.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  “What about Harry’s family? Do you have them somewhere safe?”

  “We’re keeping an eye on them,” she said. “Harry wouldn’t want us to take his son out of school and his wife out of work. But, don’t worry. We’ve got it covered.”

  “Do you think anyone is threatening them?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but it’s possible. We’re doing everything we can to keep tabs on them without them knowing. It’s a drain on our resources, for sure.”

  “You owe it to Harry, Control. You can’t let anything happen to his family.”

  “I know. I won’t.”

  “There’s something else I need to ask you.”

  “Isn’t it a little early for phone sex? Okay, fine, you talked me into it.”

  Layne gripped the phone a little harder. “I’m serious. It’s about the report.”

  “What about it?”

  “Are you one hundred percent sure it’s gone?”

  Without hesitation, Daphne said, “Yes. I burned the shredded pieces myself. I don’t know what this Gaynor person thinks we have, but there’s nothing left.”

  “I don’t know why he’s so convinced.”

  “If we had time to commission a psych profile, I think we’d find this guy isn’t all there. He doesn’t seem to want to believe the truth right in front of his face.”

  Layne drummed his fingers on his thigh. “So, my only option is to find Harry. And I have about eight hours to do it.”

  “You can do this, Layne. You’ve done more with less many times in the past.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “Bring our boy home.”

  “I will.”

  He hung up the phone and stared at the lock screen for several seconds. A weariness passed through him, telling him to sleep for a few more minutes. His body felt taxed and tired and old. He slumped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, clutching his phone against his chest.

  A spider on the ceiling made a cautious traverse from one side of the room to the other, one little leg at a time. Layne watched it for two or three minutes, relentless in its quest to cross the vast expanse of a white ceiling.

  Next came the sound of a knock at his door. He slipped out of bed and grabbed his pistol from underneath the mattress, then he skulked across the room. A quick peek through the blinds next to the door revealed a familiar face.

  He set the pistol on top of the air conditioner and opened the door. Serena Rojas stood there, gleaming eyes, long and dark hair. She looked trim and sporty in yoga pants and a stretchy top. Long, silky black hair, with high cheekbones framing the sharp lines of her face. She was severe and serious with a neutral expression but could turn sultry in an instant when she smiled with only one side of her mouth. Layne had seen her do it.

  This morning, she displayed a little redness in her eyes. Maybe allergies.

  “Out for a morning jog?” he asked.

  She looked him up and down. He was wearing only boxer shorts. “I was considering it. But, the air’s so dry here, I can’t breathe.”

  “Yeah. Takes a couple days to get used to it.”

  “Let me in?”

  He stepped aside and gave the outside a quick glance before shutting the door behind them. She strolled in and had a look around.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said as his wake-up alarm went off. He thumbed the button to turn it off and then cleared a space on the other bed for her to sit.

  Serena set her purse on the bed next to her and applied lip balm.
It made her full lips sparkle. “My op in Germany was blown anyway when Daphne called me back. But, it’s not just that. You know I’ll always help when you need it.”

  “I appreciate that. Did you have any trouble on your way in?”

  “Yes, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Layne slid on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He sat on the bed across from her and met her gaze. So young, not even thirty years old. She had taken Layne’s place on the team when he’d retired a few years ago. Daphne liked them young so she could mold them, to turn them into effective shadows. Layne had been no different. “What kind of trouble did you run into?”

  “After my flight landed at JFK. I was on a layover, and as I was passing by a set of swinging doors, a pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me through. A baggage area, with conveyor belts, carts stacked high with luggage. It was real dark, and I couldn’t see anything. Two guys, the one with the hands and another one in front. He had a needle, coming straight at me. I kicked him in the nuts, then I grabbed the guy behind me, and I swung him forward. I used his weight to throw him into the other guy.”

  “Holy shit, Serena.”

  “Then, a third guy appeared from out of nowhere. He must have been waiting back in the luggage, but he came straight at me. I ducked out of his way, at first. He had something in his hands, and I tried to kick at it, but I missed. He sprayed me with pepper spray, then one of the other two made a grab for my hands. I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, but I was still oriented, so I hard-planted and made a break for the double doors. When I came out, there was a cop right there. I threw my arms around him and told him I’d been a victim of an attempted mugging in that room. But, of course, they were gone by the time the cop entered.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  She shrugged. “The hardest part was getting out of all the red tape. I told them I wasn’t interested in giving a statement or being part of a filed report, but you know how they are. I had to have Daphne pull strings to make it go away.”

  “I just talked to her. She didn’t say anything about it.”

  Serena gave a morose chuckle. “Are you surprised?”

  “No, I guess not. Not really.”

  “You told me this would be dangerous. So far, it’s been as advertised. But, I’m not going to be impaired. My eyes burned for a couple hours, but nothing lasting.”

  “That’s good to hear. Do you need anything?”

  “No. I’m ready to get to work. If we can get Harry back, I’ll do whatever I have to do.” She pursed her lips. “Speaking of which, do you have evidence this guy actually has him? Recorded video, a lock of hair, anything like that?”

  “No, just his word."

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do. I think he has Harry, and he’s too smart to give us anything we could use to locate him. I didn’t even bother to ask.”

  Serena thought on this for a second. “Okay. I trust your judgment.”

  “Thank you. Did you make any progress on Avery Weeks?”

  Serena nodded as she pulled a folded stack of papers from her purse. She passed it across to him. “Avery Weeks was Daphne’s boss when the NSA report went missing. He died in a car accident two years later, right around the time you retired. The timing is odd, but it’s genuine.”

  Layne accepted the documents from Serena, noting how her face had soured when she’d said NSA. They were an unpopular agency, no doubt about it.

  He unfolded the documents and flipped through the pages. Medical examiner’s report, copies of news clippings. “All of this is public. How do you know it’s real?”

  “I don’t know for one hundred percent certain that the car accident was actually an accident, but I can’t find anything to suggest otherwise. Nothing’s missing in the paper trail chain, and hardly anything is redacted in the records. According to official reports, he worked at DOJ up until his death. The only thing missing is his real job as the supervisor of the team, but that’s to be expected.”

  “The accident?”

  “Late at night, driving from DC to Alexandria. There was heavy snow, and a drunk driver ran a red. Plowed into him from the side, and he died instantly. An autopsy showed nothing funny in his system. As far as I can tell, it’s all above board.”

  Layne nodded. “I appreciate you looking into this. Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

  “I can see how you think it’s not. You recover the report in Texas, Daphne gives it to Avery, he shreds it, and then he dies. No link at all to what’s happening now.” She paused. “What is happening now, exactly? Daphne only told me bits and pieces.”

  “A man with the alias of Ronald Gaynor has killed a few former shadows and has now kidnapped Harry. He’s demanding I find and bring him the report, which according to all available intel, does not exist. No copies were ever made. But, if he doesn’t get this report, Harry is going to die later today.”

  “What’s our local angle?”

  “I’ve made a kinda strange alliance with a city cop who has some of his fingers in the underworld.”

  Serena raised an eyebrow. “Can we trust him?”

  “I think so. Maybe. We had a pretty intense heart to heart yesterday after he intervened to help me out with a local thug problem. We got off on the wrong foot at first, but I think we have an understanding now.”

  “Interesting.”

  “He seems legit. We’ll keep him at arm’s length, anyway.”

  “Next steps?”

  Layne checked his watch. “He should be waiting for us in the restaurant by the office, actually.”

  “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  He finished getting ready and escorted Serena out of the room. A bright, sunny morning. They jogged across the parking lot to find Brendall sitting in his personal car. True to his word, he’d brought back Layne’s rental, parked in the next spot.

  Serena waited for Layne to approach. Layne didn’t know for sure if he could trust Brendall, but with time running out, they didn’t have a better option.

  The cop made eye contact with Layne and then waved him over. The back doors unlocked, and Layne and Serena rounded opposite sides of the car. They slipped inside, and the seat’s leather squeaked as Brendall turned to face them.

  “Who’s this?” he asked.

  “Serena Rojas,” she said. “I’m a colleague of Layne’s. Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t concern you. I’m trying to make it right.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “All that matters is I’m someone who’s going to help you get your friend back.”

  “What do you have for us?” Layne asked, interjecting before the tension could inflate any higher.

  Brendall took out his phone and opened the maps app. He held it out, then zoomed in on a little area outside of town. “This is Strawberry. It’s up in the mountains to the east. On the way out to the Fort Apache Indian Res.”

  “Okay,” Layne said. “Why don't we go back to Tonalea and the RV by the canyon?”

  The cop shook his head. “They won't be there. Trust me. There’s a little shanty town just outside of Strawberry. It doesn’t have a name, but it’s sort of an unofficial Hopi reservation. And it’s a dangerous place. Those Pahana guys you ran into yesterday? They do business out of this shanty. It has a reputation for being a place to go if you want to hire a person to make someone else disappear.”

  “How far away is this?” Serena asked.

  “About an hour. I don’t know who kidnapped your friend, but if someone does, you’ll find answers in this place. You need answers fast, right?”

  “Yes,” Layne said.

  “Then we go right into the lion’s den. It’s your best option.”

  Layne leaned down to tighten the laces on his shoes. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  25

  Ronald left his office to find his employees in the living room. Lounging, laughing, acting like today wasn’t one of the most important days of their lives. They were on th
e couch, playing a video game on the TV in front of the fireplace. The sounds of explosions and the rattle of gunfire came from the speakers attached to either side of the screen.

  At any time, there were between four or five and a dozen of his people, depending on what assignments he had for them. Right now, there were four at the house. All of them Pahana, and only one of them Caucasian. Ronald cared more about their effectiveness than the color of their skin.

  For a moment, he stood at the peripheral of the room, squeezing his hands. Feeling his fingernails slice into his palms. Yesterday had been a day of frustration. After a failed attempt to kidnap Serena Rojas at the airport, his people in Denver had also failed to take Inessa and Cameron Parrish. Layne had been too smart for that. He’d arranged for people to keep an eye on his family. The two men he’d sent to Colorado had backed off at the last moment, and it had been the right choice. This close to the deadline, Ronald didn’t want to risk public attention by letting the watchers know they were being watched.

  He entered the room and wanted to yell at his employees for lounging, and then he realized he hadn’t given them anything specific to do at the moment. He did need to talk to them, though, so he took a few breaths to even himself. But, Ronald paused when he remembered he didn’t know any of their names. He did most of his people-managing through Corn and Ashleigh.

  The white guy turned when he noticed Ronald hovering behind the couch. He grabbed the remote control and muted the TV as the others quieted down and the smiles evaporated from their faces. The action on screen froze, a guy in fatigues in mid-jump off a bridge.

  “Need something, boss?”

  “Yes,” Ronald said. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  “Sure thing,” the guy said as he jumped up from the couch. He stood tall and opened his palms, awaiting instructions. Ronald led him to the far end of the room. Out of earshot of the others, although Ronald didn’t know why he’d done that.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Trevor,” said the white guy. He seemed a little perturbed to have to do so, but Ronald ignored him. To him, these disposable underlings were no different from each other.