Steel Trap: A Jack Steel Action Mystery Thriller, Book 4

by Geoffrey Saign

There was silence on the other end of the line.

  Edwards worried Dima would end the call, but Dima said, “You’re risking your niece’s life.”

  Edwards saw his wife’s eyes widen with concern, but he lifted a palm to her, hoping she didn’t say anything. They couldn’t back down.

  Hiding the anger he felt, he said, “I assume the sex trade intel on the flash drive risks a lot of things for you. Worth much more than my niece’s life. I’m not sure how a KGB officer is involved, but I’m certain you’d rather not have the CIA in possession of that intel. Your decision. I’ve already made mine.”

  Edwards wiped sweat from his brow. Darcy was biting her lip, clasping her hands so tightly on the table that her knuckles were white.

  Silence. Edwards feared he had overreached, but he didn’t see any other way out of it.

  Dima finally spoke. “Alright. When you have the flash drive, we’ll trade your niece for it.”

  Edwards leaned forward. “My niece needs to be present at the trade or no deal. And I’ll have backup, as I’m sure you will.”

  “Of course. Have this phone with you. I’ll call you in the morning. And remember, if I don’t get the flash drive, you’ll never see your niece again.”

  The call ended.

  Darcy stared at Edwards. “Maybe you should tell your director, Phil. Jones might be understanding.”

  Edwards stared at his hands. “CIA priority will be to retrieve the flash drive, Mattia, and Valentina—in that order of priority. They won’t trade the flash drive for Therese. And they’ll put me in prison.”

  Darcy’s voice was strained. “How will you explain to the CIA about trying to free Therese from the kidnappers?”

  Edwards leaned forward. “I’ll pretend I just got the kidnapping call when we fly into Florida and say there’s only a small window to get her back safely.”

  “But Therese’s friends called us earlier in the week, Phil. They can track that call.”

  She was right. He tapped the table. “So we say Therese told us earlier that she was going to meet other friends in Florida. We say she sounded a little off. Maybe it was stress from her finals, maybe she was forced.” He shrugged. “They can’t prove anything. Every contact with the Russian was on the burner phone. It’s the best plan we have.”

  Darcy twisted her hands together. “How can you make this work, Phil?”

  “When I verify Therese is with Dima, I’ll have a separate team ambush him. I’ll tell the ambush team that my niece has been kidnapped, and Dima is trying to blackmail me to hand over the flash drive, Mattia, and Valentina.” Edwards placed his hands over hers. “We have to risk it. Otherwise we may never get another chance to free Therese. I don’t trust Dima.”

  “I don’t either.” Darcy’s brow furrowed. “Dima will probably double-cross you too.”

  Edwards nodded slowly. “Then I’ll have to improvise. I’ll have another team at the actual hand-off with me, and Steel’s team. I talked to Emilia at M4N. Steel’s team neutralized nearly a score of Dima’s men. Emilia said he’s one of the best.”

  Darcy searched his eyes. “How do you know Steel will help you?”

  “If things go that far, he won’t have a choice.”

  PART 2

  OP: ALEC’S RIFLE

  CHAPTER 14

  Dima didn’t want to, but he called Agapov. He doubted the man was in Russia—probably in Europe somewhere. In any case, it was late at night off the Florida coast and it would be early morning wherever Agapov was. Agapov might be annoyed, but Dima didn’t care. He needed advice and permission, and Agapov would be angry if he didn’t ask him for it.

  “You have results?” Agapov didn’t sound tired or annoyed.

  “Lucian has been employed. He’ll have the flash drive tomorrow, late afternoon.” Dima waited for a response.

  “That man is resourceful. You bought yourself another day, Dima. Good decision.”

  Dima exhaled quietly. “I need advice and contacts.”

  “What for?”

  “I had a man watching Steel’s place in Virginia. He informed me Christie picked up Steel’s daughter on a flight we tracked to Montana. Her parents live near Bozeman. You wanted them taken after the hand-off, so it would have to happen in Montana.” Dima paused. He was tired of being Agapov’s errand boy for his stupid revenge scenarios. “I don’t have enough resources to do this. Do you still want them taken, and if so, do you have any contacts in Montana?”

  “I need to check some things, Dima. I’ll call you in an hour.”

  Dima felt impatient. He wished Agapov would take care of it. He didn’t want involvement with a kidnapping on mainland U.S. He certainly didn’t want his name attached to it. But if Agapov was gathering research, it most likely meant he wanted to go through with the kidnapping.

  After an hour, Agapov called back. “My contact is another billionaire, Arthur Raimus. We have some mutual interests. He has a close associate in Montana to fit our needs and has informed him that The Russian will be calling.”

  Dima was glad Agapov hadn’t given the man his name. “Who am I calling?”

  “Erik Lansing. Hire him for a quarter million. I’ll pay. Tell him to be on standby for tomorrow. After you get the flash drive and Steel, call Lansing and tell him to take Steel’s partner and daughter alive. When he has them, call me and we’ll decide the next steps.” He gave Dima the phone number and hung up.

  Dima swore to himself and then dialed the number.

  A man with a gruff voice answered. “Who is this?”

  “Erik Lansing?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is The Russian. I was told that Arthur Raimus informed you that I would be calling.

  “He did. He said you were good for the money. If Arthur trusts you, I do too. What do you need, when do you need it, and how much are you paying?

  Dima explained everything, and gave the man the address of Christie Thorton’s parents. “Can you do it?”

  “Yes. We’ll be hunting that day an hour south of Bozeman in the foothills of the Bridger mountains. If we’re going to take the woman and daughter, it will be easiest at night. I don’t want to do it during the day.”

  “I agree. But don’t proceed until you hear confirmation from me. We need an exchange to happen tomorrow on this end before you act. I’m sending their pictures now.” Dima texted him photographs of Christie and Rachel.

  After a few moments the man asked, “Does it matter if there is collateral damage?”

  “No. But as soon as you have the girl and woman, call me.” Dima hung up. More loose ends. He didn’t like it. Agapov was making a mess of things.

  CHAPTER 15

  Christie landed in Bozeman Yellowstone International Airport shortly after midnight. The temperature was sixty, signaling an early spring arrival. The cool air woke her up. Sweatshirt and windbreaker weather. Rachel had packed Christie’s hiking boots and other clothing.

  Along with a Jeep rental, Christie had arranged for an ambulance to drive Harry from the airport to her parents’ house, southwest of Bozeman. She had also called a friend of theirs, Kat, to pick up their two dogs at Steel’s house in Virginia and watch them for a few days.

  Christie couldn’t stop thinking of Steel. He would still be on the boat, headed to Florida. Their goodbye at the airstrip had been short. Emotional for her. She hadn’t wanted to leave. She didn’t want to call him now and become the nuisance fiancé. Yet she wondered how he was handling having his whole team reassembled in one day. Not to mention the fact that he really couldn’t trust Angel. She didn’t.

  On the plane ride, Harry had chatted and joked with Rachel. Christie felt grateful. Harry loved Rachel and didn’t want the young teen to be worried sick about her father.

  But once Harry was loaded into the ambulance, and they were in the Jeep, Rachel turned to Christie, her voice and face strained. “Who’s going to help Dad now?”

  Christie hesitated. Steel had decided long ago to not lie about anything to Rachel
. She had enough mistrust in people after being kidnapped for two years, and thus she needed complete honesty from those around her. Steel had also told Rachel that mission details were off limits—often classified intel that his team couldn’t share.

  Wanting to calm Rachel, Christie kept her tone optimistic. “Zeus is fantastic, Rachel. And your Dad called in a man who is as good as he is.” She swallowed over that fact.

  “Really?” Rachel searched Christie’s eyes. Her reddish hair fell past her shoulders. Cute, in a tomboyish way. A little lighter skinned than Steel, Rachel had the same observant eyes.

  Christie forced a smile. “Really. I’m not lying. There actually is someone as good as your father.”

  Rachel seemed satisfied with that. But Christie felt unsettled, again wondering if Angel would help, and how much any of them could trust an ex-cartel hitman.

  “Do you think he’ll send me away?”

  That question snapped Christie out of her worries and her eyes widened. “Who will send you away? Your dad? What makes you think he would he ever send you away, honey?”

  Rachel lowered her gaze. “He’s worried about me, so maybe he’ll send me away to keep me safe.”

  Christie stifled a flood of emotion, which she knew wasn’t just over her concern for Rachel. “Look, if there’s one thing I know about your father, it’s that he will never, ever send you away from him except for short periods like now. He loves you so much, and he knows what you went through being kidnapped for two years. Never gonna happen. I wouldn’t let him.” The last sentence was a bit over-the-top, but she thought Steel would approve.

  She grabbed Rachel’s hand. “Is that why you’ve been practicing so hard? To prove to him that you can keep yourself safe?”

  Rachel leaned back. “Partly. But I also want to be safe.”

  “Honey, keeping you safe is your Dad’s responsibility, and I love helping him with that. He’s worried you’re practicing too much and not enjoying yourself.” Christie wanted to change the subject. “Do you have any friends?”

  Rachel spoke with downcast eyes. “A few.”

  It was obvious that Rachel’s confidence in her fighting abilities didn’t extend to social situations. That was a tough area for many teens. “Invite your friends over for a sleepover or ask them to hang out.” Though after the recent attack by Mykey and the white nationalists at Steel’s house, Christie could understand Rachel hesitating over that idea. “You don’t mind coming to Montana with me, do you?”

  “No! This is fun.” Rachel smiled. “I love it at the ranch and hanging with you.”

  “Good. The feeling is mutual.” Christie called her mother, Mina, to tell her they would be arriving soon. She again checked her phone for text messages. Nothing. She resisted texting Steel. He might be sleeping and yet would feel compelled to answer. She would text him in the morning.

  THE NEXT MORNING, AFTER cooking breakfast for Harry, Christie drove into town with Rachel and her mother, Mina, to see her father at the hospital. Christie enjoyed catching up on family news, and her mother was easy to talk to. Mina drove.

  While Rachel chatted with Mina, Christie sent Steel a text, asking how things were going for the hand-off. He sent back a thumbs-up emoji, followed by, “Midafternoon. Will call later.” Steel wasn’t much for long texts. Still, she was relieved the hand-off would be safe. But she wasn’t sure Steel would tell her if it wasn’t—something they needed to discuss sometime.

  Nonetheless, she felt brighter. “So, Mom, what happened to Dad?”

  “Your father drove himself home from a hike with a bullet wound in his shoulder.” Mina pulled into the hospital parking lot. “All he said was he had an accident and lost his rifle. Tripped and hit his head. I don’t think he remembers it. He had the gun along—”

  “Just in case,” Christie finished for her, smiling. She glanced back at Rachel. “That’s what Dad always says when he goes into the forest.”

  Mina smiled. “He does.”

  Christie twisted in her seat. “Dad’s one of the best in the woods, Rachel. A real Daniel Boone.” She looked at her mother. “How could he fall, shoot himself, and lose the rifle?”

  “Freak accidents can happen to anyone.” Mina shrugged. “He’s not a spring chicken anymore.”

  Christie abruptly felt guilty for not spending more time with her father. “Did anyone go looking for his rifle yet?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Not yet. Clay helped me that night, and brought his boys to the hospital a few times. But with Meera gone, he just didn’t have time.” Mina paused. “Your father talks about you all the time. How proud he is. He misses you and will be as happy as I am to see you.”

  Christie remembered when she left to join the Army. All she had thought about was getting out of Montana, wanting to start her own life. Now she felt lucky to be back home with a family who cared.

  Christie’s father, Alec, was awake when they arrived, his demeanor brightening when they walked into his room. Slender and tall like Christie’s mother, his thick, gray hair was astray. He had an IV in his arm. Christie hugged him, suddenly very glad she had come home. They talked for an hour, and Rachel filled Alec in on her life. The doctor came in at one point and said Alec could go home in a day if all went well.

  Christie sighed, happy to hear it. “I’m going to look for your gun today, Dad.”

  He waved off her words. “Don’t bother. I don’t need it. I have plenty of guns at home.”

  “What gun did you have with you?” she persisted.

  Mina smiled. “His favorite. The .30-06 Springfield.”

  “Walnut-cradled blued steel with a new leather carry strap with Alec engraved on it.” Christie winked at Rachel.

  Alec lifted his hand. “I don’t care. It’s gone. Don’t even remember where I lost it. I barely recall stumbling back to the truck and trying to keep from steering off the road.”

  “That’s your all-time favorite gun, Dad.” Christie smiled. “What trail were you on? Rachel and I need some exercise, so it will be an adventure.”

  “Just leave it be!” snapped Alec. He immediately looked sheepish. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. Must be the meds. I was on the east trail if you want to have a look, honey.”

  Christie stroked his forearm. “No worries, Dad. If I was shot and lost my favorite gun, I’d be a little upset too.”

  Alec looked at Rachel, winking at her. “Thortons are stubborn, Rachel.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. “I know!”

  ON THE WAY HOME, MINA tapped the steering wheel. “I think your father got upset because he can’t remember what happened and that .30-06 Springfield was his favorite.”

  “Let’s find it, Christie!” Rachel leaned forward from the back seat, sounding excited. “It will make him happy.”

  Christie smiled. “I agree, Rach.”

  “He wasn’t on the east trail though.” Mina sighed. “When he left in the morning he said he was taking the west trail. And when he returned with the bullet wound, I saw him drive back down the west dirt road. I think he just doesn’t remember.”

  AN HOUR LATER CHRISTIE drove the rental Jeep along the west dirt road. In a half-mile it ended. Many decades ago, before her father had bought the property, the previous owner had built three intended logging roads into the back country, heading west, north, and east. Alec had left the dead-end roads but never logged the area, preferring to be a land steward. He had taught his children to be the same. That was one of many reasons Christie was drawn to Steel—he was a strong defender of the natural world.

  They were in the foothills of the Bridger Mountains, their snowy peaks visible in the distance. Lodgepole pines, Douglas fir, and Rocky Mountain juniper covered the landscape, with shrubs like buffaloberry in the understory. The scent of pine filled the air.

  A northern flicker was banging on a tree trunk close by, and a red-tailed hawk circled above. Sun shining, white clouds. Christie strapped a water bottle to her belt. She left her windbreaker in the
car, figuring a pullover, jeans, and hiking boots were enough. The day would warm.

  “This is going to be great!” Rachel had a pair of birding binoculars hanging from her neck and she slung a knapsack holding water and sandwiches on her back.

  “What are you now, five-five, one-twenty?” Christie sized up Rachel’s lean frame stuffed into jeans, tennis shoes, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “You’re in shape, girl.”

  Rachel smiled. “I take after Dad.”

  Christie chuckled. “Yes, you do, girl.”

  “Can I bring my gun?”

  The question caught Christie by surprise. She had her SIG in a back holster, outside her top. They had left Rachel’s Ruger LC9 in the glove compartment. Rachel had wanted to bring it from Virginia. Christie thought maybe they could do target practice at the ranch later.

  She said matter-of-factly, “Your father wouldn’t be happy with me, honey. You have to be eighteen to open carry in Montana.”

  “What if we run into a grizzly?” Rachel’s brow winkled. She gave a weak smile. “Just in case.”

  Christie waved at her playfully. “Hey, that’s not fair, using Dad’s words against me!”

  “Well, Alec is one of the best in the woods, right?” Rachel spread her hands, looking innocent.

  “I can’t argue with that.” Christie stretched her arms. “Did you know my dad used to hunt with a shotgun when he was twelve?” The last time a game warden had been out here was years ago, and Rachel’s skill level probably surpassed most adults. Still. She put her hands on her hips. “How about I carry it, and if we really run into a grizzly, I’ll give it to you.”

  Rachel’s expression perked up. “Okay.”

  “Besides, you have your OTF blade.” Christie chuckled. Her own OTF knife was in her belt too. It always reminded her of Steel, which she enjoyed.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, like that little thing will help me against a grizzly.”

  Rachel wore her hidden OTF knife in her belt more toward her left side than in the middle of her back—Christie didn’t think it was a style statement. Ambidextrous like her father, Rachel preferred using her left hand for her knife, her right for her Luger.