“Who were you calling?”
“Please.” Joe tried to turn, but Ethan held him against the wall.
“Come on, Joe.” Ethan could smell the man’s fear. “Let’s not drag this out.”
“He told me you’d come looking for him, said to call when you came in.”
Ethan loosened his grip just a bit. “Give me the number.”
The man fumbled in his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. Ethan snatched it and saw the number scrawled on the back. “Are you sure you’re not trying to pull something on me, Joe?”
“That’s what he gave me, I swear.”
“Then I’ll save you the trouble of making that call.”
“Look, don’t tell where you got that number. He’ll kill me if he finds out.”
“I don’t think so.” Ethan stepped back, releasing his grip on the man’s neck. “As you said, he’s expecting me. Now, why don’t you stay here and count to fifty, and I’ll be on my way.”
Joe didn’t move as Ethan lowered the knife and backed toward the exit. Once outside, he closed the blade and dropped it into his pocket. A few blocks over, he pulled out Anna’s cell phone and punched in the number on the back of the card.
Ramirez picked up on the third ring. “Sí?”
“I hear you’re expecting me.”
Soft laughter rippled across the line. “You are so predictable, amigo.”
“Hey, I found you without breaking a sweat. What does that make you?”
“I wanted you to find me.”
“Look,” Ethan said. “I don’t have time for a pissing contest. You said you wanted on that island, well so do I.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Cox grabbed Sydney and the girl.”
“And you want them back.”
“I want to expose him and that gulag he’s running.” Ethan switched the phone to his other ear and glanced around. No one seemed to have any interest in him. “And yeah, I want Sydney and the girl freed.”
“What about the boy?”
“He’s out of it.”
“So, now you want my help. How quickly things change.”
Ethan gritted his teeth, then forced himself to say, “Cox promised to release Sydney if I delivered you. So, I thought you might oblige me by giving yourself up.”
Ramirez laughed again. “He means to kill us all, you know.”
“He won’t be the first to try.”
Ramirez let the silence stretch for a few long moments. “Okay, when and where?”
“Come to the marina tonight at midnight. Look for the Sea Devil.”
“I will be there.”
“Don’t be late.” Ethan disconnected and slipped the phone into his jacket pocket.
The last piece was in place.
WHEN DANNY WOKE, Ethan was gone.
For the second time in two days, he’d left Danny alone in a crummy motel room, and he hated it. It gave him too much time to think. As they’d headed west from Chicago, he’d thought only about getting Callie away from the Keepers. Then in Seattle, reality had dug a hole in his stomach. He was going back to Haven Island, and he was scared.
He abandoned his attempt to work on the computer and went to the window. Looking out at the bleak northwest weather, he remembered the hawk in the desert. If he had a choice, that’s where he’d be right now, with the hot sun beating down on his head and the horizon stretching forever in all directions. Here, the damp air chilled him, and the sea threatened to confine him.
He didn’t want to go back to the Haven.
He wasn’t proud of it, but his fear had grown as they’d gotten closer to Anacortes. He kept telling himself that Callie and the others needed him, were depending on him to bring help. Even Ethan trusted him. He couldn’t let them down, but if the Keepers caught him . . . He shuddered at the thought.
He didn’t want to be the next kid to disappear.
By the time Ethan returned, it was late afternoon.
“Everything’s set,” he said. “If things go right tonight, you and Callie will be back together before the sun comes up.”
After that, they didn’t talk much. Ethan seemed withdrawn, pulling into himself as he prepared for the night ahead. Danny wanted to ask about their plans, how Ethan intended to get on the island and rescue Callie and Sydney, but something held him back. He suspected his reluctance had something to do with not wanting to admit he was scared.
In order to keep a low profile, they ate in the room, picking up fast food and bringing it back. Afterward, Ethan handed him an overstuffed envelope.
“What is it?” Danny turned the envelope over, examining the tight seal.
“In case I don’t come back.”
Danny looked at him, confused.
“If I’m not back within eight hours, I want you to run. Find a way to the Canadian border. It’s not far, fifty, maybe sixty miles. Go to Vancouver. You’ll find everything you need in that envelope: money and an introductory letter to a friend of mine. We served together in Special Ops, he’ll take care of you.”
Danny dropped the envelope and backed up. “No.”
“Take it, Danny.”
“I’m going with you.” Despite his fear, it had never occurred to him that Ethan would leave him behind. Not after all they’d been through and all the planning over the last five days. He was part of this.
“It’s too dangerous,” Ethan said.
Danny’s eyes smarted. “And staying here is safer?”
Ethan put the envelope on the desk, moved over to the bed, and started packing his duffel bag.
“She’s my sister.”
Ethan glanced back over his shoulder. “And I’ll bring her to you.”
“You need me.”
“No. I don’t.”
That stung, and Danny fought the tears.
“What I needed was information.” Ethan pointed to the sketch pad. “Which you gave me.”
“That’s not the same. I know the island and the buildings better than anyone.”
Ethan picked up the envelope. “Take it.”
Danny stared at it as if it had teeth. Then, very slowly, he took it. He’d learned a lot over the last week from Ethan, but mostly patience.
Ethan studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Eight hours, and if I’m not back—”
“Yeah, I got it.” Danny plopped down on the bed and grabbed his Game Boy. “I’m out of here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ETHAN SET OUT at ten.
The night was damp and dark, the streetlamps reflecting off pools of silent water. The storm had never materialized, but a light mist had moved in from the Sound, chilling the already cool air. The streets were empty, with all sensible people indoors, tucked in their beds or in front of warm fires.
For Ethan, however, the weather worked.
He took the long way to the docks, circling back on his own path several times, watching and listening. Overconfidence wasn’t a mistake he intended to make. Not tonight. Not with so many innocent lives at stake.
He considered his last glimpse of Danny, still hacking away at the Haven’s computer system. Ethan hadn’t expected the boy to agree so easily to staying behind. A week ago, it would have been a battle. Danny had come a long way since the day Anna had left him and Callie on Ethan’s doorstep. He’d begun looking at Ethan the way Nicky once had, with trust, but Ethan wasn’t sure that was such a good thing. He’d never wanted the responsibility for another child’s life, yet here he was with the fate of a whole island of kids in his hands. And he’d be damned, or dead, before he let them down, before he allowed the trust in Danny’s eyes to fade again.
When Ethan got to the docks, he carefully inspected the Sea Devil to make sure everything was in order. He didn’t expect any problems, but this was Cox’s turf, within an hour’s boat ride from the island. Ethan couldn’t be too careful.
As soon as he was sure nothing had been tampered with, he readied the engines and made one last
check of the navigation charts. Then he went down into the cabin to wait.
For his plan to work, he needed Ramirez’s help. Ethan hated the idea, but not as much as he hated the thought of Sydney in Cox’s hands. He’d do whatever it took to get her off that island, even cut a deal with the devil. Or Marco Ramirez. That is, if he showed. And if he didn’t, well then Ethan would have to go with his backup plan, a slightly modified and riskier version of the original.
He didn’t have long to wait.
The boat swayed gently against its mooring. Footsteps, barely audible, moved overhead. Then Ramirez appeared in the hatchway.
Ethan greeted him with the Glock. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”
Unruffled, Ramirez descended the remaining steps. “You do not need the weapon, amigo.”
“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for that. Now, lose the hardware.” Ethan flicked the muzzle of the Glock at the assassin, reminding him of his precarious position. “Slowly.”
“If I wanted you dead”—Ramirez removed the Beretta from his jacket and placed it on the floor—“I could have killed you many times.”
“You could have tried.” Ethan gestured toward the Beretta. “Nudge it this way, and the one on your ankle, too.”
Ramirez arched an eyebrow and smiled, a slow, caustic smile. “Oh, I think I would have done more than try.”
“The ankle.”
“Oh, yes.” Ramirez bent, unbuckled the holster, and slid it over next to the Beretta. “Satisfied?”
“Anything else?”
The assassin opened his jacket. “You are welcome to search.”
“Turn around and put your hands on the bulkhead.”
Ramirez grudgingly obeyed, and Ethan patted him down. When he was sure the assassin was clean he backed away, picked up the discarded weapons, and placed them in a cabinet behind him. “Okay, sit.”
Ramirez complied. “So, we are going to Haven Island.”
“You said you wanted answers.”
“As do you. But, if we are to work together,” he nodded toward the gun in Ethan’s hand, “you must trust me.”
Trust Ramirez? Hardly. But for the time being, their interests ran along the same path. After Ramirez had his answers, it would be a different story. Ethan returned the Glock to its holster.
“Since we are displaying trust.” Ramirez slid a hand inside his jacket. “I have some information for you.”
“Easy.” Ethan reached reflexively for his weapon but stopped before drawing it.
Ramirez made no comment, opened his coat, and retrieved a manila envelope from an inside pocket. “I was not idle while waiting for you.” He pulled out a sheaf of paper and handed it to Ethan. “I found this in Mulligan’s home.”
Ethan studied the document. It was a receipt from Cooley Cryobank and Laboratories, San Francisco, California, made out to Timothy Frederick Mulligan, dated 1983. Sydney was right. Mulligan had been a sperm donor and, if the Haven’s records could be believed, probably Danny and Callie’s biological father.
Then Ramirez handed him a five-by-seven glossy. “Do you recognize this man?”
“Should I?”
“It is James Cooley, founder of this Cooley Cryobank. He looked familiar to me, so . . .” Ramirez showed Ethan a second photograph, this one computer generated. “I had the original aged twenty years.”
Ethan studied both pictures and waited for an explanation.
Ramirez tapped the edge of the second picture. “That is George Taleb.”
Ethan leaned back, another detail falling into place: the link between Cooley and the island. He and George Taleb were the same man, now dead. It didn’t tell them how or why Cooley got tied up with the Agency, why he ran, or what they were doing to those children, but it was one more piece in the puzzle.
“There’s more,” Ethan said, and explained what little he knew about the children, how they tended to disappear, and his belief the doctors were using them as guinea pigs.
Ramirez grew quiet, his mask of civility eroding. “Cox will not make it off that island alive.”
The same thought had crossed Ethan’s mind, but he couldn’t afford to indulge it. “Our first priority is Sydney and the kids, then getting proof to shut down Cox’s operation. Understand?”
“I will keep my part of the bargain.”
“See that you do. After that, Cox is yours.” Unless he harmed Sydney, then Ramirez would have to get in line behind Ethan.
“So, how will we accomplish this great task?” Ramirez asked.
“I have a plan,” Ethan said, offering the devil his deal. “Check beneath the bench where you’re sitting, and you’ll find a hidden compartment.”
Ramirez glanced down, surprised.
“Go ahead,” Ethan said. “Move it aside, the latch is all but invisible unless you know where to look.”
Ramirez followed Ethan’s instructions, releasing the locking mechanism to reveal a storage space beneath the floor: a space big enough for a man.
“Smuggling along the U.S. and Canadian borders is a fact of life,” Ethan said. “It’s simply a matter of knowing the right people.”
Ramirez squatted down and pulled out the Remington 700. “You have some very unsavory friends.”
“We all have our sources.”
Ramirez grinned like a kid in a candy store and stroked the rifle barrel. “A fine weapon.”
“It’s not loaded.” Ethan nodded back toward the compartment. “In the duffel bag you’ll find ammunition, a supply of C4, blasting caps, and a transmitter.”
“We are going to war, yes?”
“When we get close to the island, you’re going into that hole.”
Ramirez looked back at the small space.
“Don’t worry,” Ethan said, “you’ll fit. As soon as we put in at the island, Cox’s people will take me ashore. They won’t be too happy that I came alone and will search the boat. But they won’t find you.”
“If you are wrong?”
“Then we’re both dead.”
Ramirez snorted in disgust. “I do not like this part of the plan.”
“You got a better idea?”
When Ramirez didn’t reply, Ethan said, “Look, I know Cox. He’ll expect me to try something, but he won’t expect me to come through the front door.”
For eight years Cox had used and directed Ethan’s team. He knew Ethan’s standard operational strategies, his skill at slipping into secure areas without detection. That’s why he had to do the unexpected. “Cox will blanket the island with men watching all the back doors, shallow beaches, rugged shorelines, the least hospitable places to land a boat or receive a diver.” Ethan had thought about this on the long drive west, analyzed it from every conceivable angle, and knew this plan was their best shot. “That’s where he’ll expect me to come ashore.”
Ramirez didn’t look convinced.
“Plus we have one other advantage.” Even before the disastrous raid three years earlier, bad blood had existed between Ethan and Ramirez. “No one, especially Avery Cox, will ever suspect us of working together.”
Ramirez’s eyes sparked. “About this, you are right.”
Tension crowded between them, a reminder that theirs was a temporary truce. The past had not been forgotten. Old hatreds crouched in the wings, ready to pounce.
“Once they take me off the boat,” Ethan said, breaking the silence, “it’s your turn. First I’ll need a diversion, that’s where the C4 comes in. Then I want you to even the odds.” He motioned toward the Remington in the assassin’s hands. “That’s what your friend’s for.”
Ramirez laughed abruptly.
Ethan pulled out Danny’s map, giving a rough overview of the island’s layout, and explained his strategy. Ramirez listened attentively until Ethan had finished. “And do we have a way off that rock?”
“Well now, that’s my insurance policy.” Ethan smiled tightly. “If anything happens to me, you’ll be stuck. Unless you want to try getting out on the Sea D
evil, which might prove difficult under the circumstances. So I suggest you make sure I stay alive by taking care of the resistance outside the facility. Meanwhile, I’ll get Sydney and the girl and enough proof to shut Cox down for good.”
“And then?”
Ethan pointed to a position on the map, behind the main building. “We’ll meet here, and all get off the island together.”
Ramirez’s eyes had gone cold and hard. “It is a crazy plan.”
“Just up your alley.”
“And yours, amigo.”
“We’re not friends.” Ethan rolled up the drawings, secured them with a rubber band, and dropped them into the hold next to the bag of explosives. “If I had any other choice, I’d drop you where you stand.”
“We are in agreement then.”
“Looks that way.” Ethan gestured toward the hatchway. “I want you topside where I can keep an eye on you until we get close to the island.”
“So much for trust.” But Ramirez climbed the stairs.
On deck Ethan turned his attention to the boat, releasing the ropes and pushing away from the dock. He took the wheel, slid the throttle into reverse, and eased the boat out of her slip.
“There’s one other thing you need to know,” he said as he maneuvered toward open water.
Ramirez glanced back at him briefly, as if uninterested.
“My team wasn’t ordered to terminate you,” Ethan said. “I was told to bring you in alive. And, I didn’t know about the girl.”
Ramirez’s eyes remained fixed on the dark water.
They left the marina behind, but Ethan kept the speed down. Despite the charts and expensive electronic equipment, he was unfamiliar with these waters.
When he finally spoke, Ramirez’s voice was deadly calm. “Cox wanted his secret dead with me no matter the cost. No price was too high, they sacrificed you, your team, and then . . .” He paused. “And then your son.”
Ethan felt the deck shift beneath him. “What are you saying?”
“I do not kill children.” Ramirez met Ethan’s gaze and held it. “Not even yours.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Believe what you want.”
Ethan gripped the wheel to steady himself. It was a lie. Ramirez was covering his ass. “What about the letter?” And the coin beneath Nicky’s tongue? “The one telling me Sydney was next on your hit list?”
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