“Then why is your hand shaking?”
Her mouth dropped open and she looked at the hand.
“I was right,” Cade continued. “Your hand starts shaking right before you have a post-traumatic stress episode. Using you is a bad idea.”
Cade continued his line of questioning. “So what about it? It was a PTSD event that sent you to the hospital last night, wasn’t it?”
She turned her back. “I’ve got control of it,” she said as she crossed her arms. “I left the Bureau to get away from it. All the stress, the male-dominated culture, the damned terrorists. PTSD had taken over my life. I came down here to start again, to not have to face down another terrorist, about to be killed at any moment. I’m not saying I’m happy, but I’m happier here than I’ve been in a long time. I had no idea how bad it had gotten until I got here. It was then I realized it. In my life at the Bureau I had forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?” Cade said.
“Forgotten who I was. Forgotten how to relax. I couldn’t even recognize myself.”
“And now?”
Her eyes became glassy again as she stared out into the blue waters. “I don’t know. Maybe I never really knew who I was in the first place.” She shook her head abruptly. “But I don’t have time for that right now. Am I stable, you ask? I don’t give a shit about that. If Kyle is in trouble, I’m going to help him, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do to stop me.”
14
Whereabouts
“I’ll ask again.” Rojas looked at Kyle. “Hey, wake up.” He slapped Kyle. “We’re talking about the Oficina de Envigado cartel. Who is in charge of their operations on the island?”
“Gaviria,” Kyle sang. “Don’t you just love saying that name?” His glazed eyes and thin smile spoke volumes to the euphoria he felt inside.
Rojas whispered, “Carlos Ochoa Gaviria.” There was shock in his tone. “I knew his father.” For this part, Rojas did not need Gustavo Moreno to hand him an intelligence report. “A former member of Muerte a Secuestradores.” Rojas began to pace the room. “Gaviria’s father ran the MAS, a paramilitary arm of the original Medellín Cartel. It was huge. It had the backing of the Colombian military, the Colombian legislature, small industrialists, wealthy cattle ranchers, it ran the gamut. And just to keep trade normalized, even Texas Petroleum, a US-based corporation with a huge investment in the region, was a contributor. Carlos Gaviria would have gone with his father and been raised in that environment. Carlos Gaviria would have gone with his father and been raised in that environment. Enforcement, murders, kidnapping, torture. He would have seen it all.”
Moreno said, “Patron? Perhaps Gaviria has not yet worked his way up within the new cartel.”
“No,” Rojas said as the thoughts percolated. “No, this is something else. Gaviria would be high up in their organization. Very high up. This means that Oficina de Envigado, the very successors to the Medellín Cartel, are making a much bigger play of Antigua than we thought. This raises the stakes.”
“Would you like me to gather more intelligence on Senior Gaviria, Patron?”
“Of course, you fool!” Rojas screamed. “I want to know his whereabouts. I want to know what he had for breakfast this morning. I want to know everything. The timing could not be worse. We’re going to have to do something.”
“Yes, Patron,” Moreno said.
“No, Agent MacKerron, changing a drug route is not the issue. What we’re involved with is much, much bigger than drugs.” He turned to Moreno before leaving. “Keep him alive. No one touches him. We may need him later.”
15
Training
Once they were inside, they looked at the dust-covered sheets draping the furniture.
“We’re not going to talk about us anymore, got it?” Jana said. “I’m only doing this because of Kyle. What assets do we have at our disposal? And don’t try to tell me you can’t disclose that because of national security. I’m in on everything you know.”
“We don’t know if the electricity works in here or if there’s running water, but you want to talk about assets?” Cade exhaled. “Let me get my stuff. I need to get the comms equipment set up. Then we’ll talk.”
Cade went back out and opened the trunk. He removed two large cases and a rolling suitcase and brought them inside. He placed one on an old wooden table and keyed in a passcode on top of the case. From it he withdrew an armored laptop and an IsatHub Wi-Fi satellite collapsible hotspot.
“Hardly anyone on the island knows we’re here,” Cade said. “I’ll be set up in a few minutes. We’ll have a direct uplink to NSA.” He looked at his watch then shook his head. “Uncle Bill is going to be pissed. I’m already late. Here, plug that in,” he said, handing Jana a power cord.
“Is this all the equipment you have? What about weapons? What local assets are at our disposal?”
“We have DEA.”
“That’s it? How many agents?”
“One,” he replied.
“What? They’re only giving us one agent? What about all that talk about the murder of Agent Camarena? From the sound of it, I thought there were thirty hardened operators suiting up for a raid.”
“Thirty?” Cade said. “This is Antigua. It’s a pretty quiet place as far as drugs go, until recently, that is. This discovery of the cartels investment here is new. The DEA agents I was speaking of are in the Bahamas and the USVirgin Islands. They’re listening to their contact here. And besides, Kyle’s disappearance is a theory.”
“A theory? I thought you said—”
“Remember, all we know is that he’s gone dark. CIA isn’t so convinced. They’re accustomed to assets that go dark for months at a time. But it’s Kyle we’re talking about. He is relentless in his patterns. He doesn’t go dark, but no one seems to believe me.”
“But Uncle Bill is on board, right? He and Knuckles?”
“Uncle Bill doesn’t believe Kyle is missing. But once we convince him, he can put the full weight of the NSA behind this if need be. You’ve got to understand. It’s the war on terror, our assets are stretched thin. He can’t commit resources until we are sure.”
“Oh, great,” Jana said. “A bunch of guys with satellites, listening devices, computer hacking? Not exactly the collection of Jack Reacher superagents I was hoping for.”
Cade’s mouth dropped open. “Hey, I work at NSA.”
“My point exactly,” Jana said through a smile. “Satellites, listening devices, computer hackers. A bunch of geeks. You said DEA has a contact here?”
Cade Cade booted up the laptop and positioned the satellite uplink in front of a bay window, then initiated the secure connection. “I’ll tell you about the DEA guy if you tell me about your guy.”
“My guy?” Jana said as she looked at him.
“Yes, yours.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Sure you are. I’m talking about your guy. The one you’ve apparently been spending so much time with. The one who trained you? Surely you remember him.”
Her face washed free of expression. “What makes you think there’s someone?”
“That’s what we call a nondenial. The FBI trained you, Jana. But they didn’t train you anywhere near to the extent that you are apparently trained now. There’s someone here, someone you’ve been spending a lot of time with. Someone who’s trained you in what? Spec ops? Close-quarters combat? What else? Interrogation techniques, how to defeat a polygraph, demolitions? Come on, out with it.”
“Fine. I met someone. He never talks about what he did in his past or what he does now, but it’s obvious he was an operator of some kind. I’ve been training with him for months. He taught me more than I ever knew. Like you said, the Bureau trained me, but where their training left off, his picked up.”
“What else did he teach you?” he asked.
“Hey!” she yelled. “Back off. I’m not talking about my personal life with you.”
“And there you have it,” Cade said. �
�The nondenial. He wasn’t just some guy who trained you in weapons and tactics. You were seeing him socially.”
An awkward silence ensued between them and Cade turned his attention to the laptop.
Finally, Jana said, “Anyway, that’s over now. We went our separate ways.”
“Jana, I get it. You and I were over. You found someone. You moved on. But why the training? What possessed you to go so hardcore?”
“I’m not hardcore.”
“What a load of crap. This boyfriend of yours didn’t just train you because he was bored. You asked him to.”
“I’m done talking about him. I’ve come clean with my piece. Now tell me about the DEA asset.”
“He’s a contractor.”
“He’s not real DEA? My God, how are we going to find Kyle and pull him out with no help?”
“DEA puts a lot of faith in him. He’s been down here a long time and apparently he’s well connected. He’s got their ear, that’s for sure. He’s the one telling DEA they need to send a crew down here and tear this place apart until they find Kyle.”
Jana closed her eyes. “So, it sounds like Kyle must have been in touch with this asset. Otherwise, how would he have known Kyle was missing?”
“That would be the assumption,” Cade said as he banged away on the keyboard. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough. The asset will be here any minute.”
“He’s coming here? I thought you said no one the island knew about this place.”
“Jana, the DEA has trusted this guy for years. And we need his help.” Cade pointed at the laptop. “See? Here’s his ping on the monitor. He’s just up the road.”
“Wonderful. Can’t wait to meet him,” Jana said, though her sarcasm was obvious. “He’d better be good. If he’s the only asset we have, that is.”
“Don’t forget, we’ve got whatever we need from Uncle Bill, if we can just convince him. Perhaps you forget how effective NSA can be at this.”
“It’s going to take more than code breaking to find Kyle.”
“Look, I need more information. We don’t have much time and you know it. I can’t be down here blind. Your personal history might be your business, but there’s more at stake than that. I want to know about this boyfriend of yours. I don’t want to be blindsided by some rogue. Did you ever stop to think that the guy you’ve been shacked up with is not who you think he is?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying he’s involved somehow? You don’t even know him. Besides, he stopped showing up. We’re not exactly seeing each other anymore.”
“Did you bore him to death?”
“That coming from the self-proclaimed dork,” Jana said with a smirk.
“Fair enough. So he didn’t tell you about what he used to do for a living? What type of training did he give you?”
“Weapons, close combat. A form of Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Arm bars, wrist locks, joint protrusions.”
“Joint protrusions? You mean you hyperextend the joint until it snaps back the other way? Hmmm, sounds similar to injuries suffered by a certain perp whose medical records I examined last night. He taught you how to do that?”
“He can teach how to kill in dozens of different ways, and I wanted to learn all of them. Strange thing is, he can be so gentle.”
“I don’t think I want to hear how tender he can be when both your heads are on the pillow.”
Jana threw her arms in the air. “Did you think after I left you I was going to be celibate for the rest of my life? I met him right after I got down here. I was struggling with all those emotions, and a lot of physical pain from my back injury. He struck up a conversation with me at the bar.”
“Bar? You mean that little tiki hut you work in.”
“He could see I was in pain so he offered to massage my back.”
“Yeah, I bet he did.”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Jana said as she thought back to the encounter.
“Girls always think the guy just wants to be friends,” Cade said as he shook his head.
Jana ignored him. “He recognized me from my face being splashed all across the media after the attempted bombing. It kind of frightened me at first. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to know who I was. I wanted to disappear and start with a fresh slate. But being one of the few Caucasians that live here, and being from the States, he knew.”
“What’s his name?” Cade said while his fingers waited on the keyboard.
“You’re going to pull his background?”
“Of course I am. I’m tapped into the NSA database. Like I said, if things go bad, I need to know who’s down here.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“Name,” Cade said.
“He’s not a threat.”
“You’re not going to tell me his name, are you? Fine. At least give me his description. Caucasian?”
“Six feet, one hundred and eighty-five pounds. Long, curly blond hair.” Jana smiled at the thought. “Lean, very lean.”
“Lean? Uh huh.” Cade typed the description as if taking dictation. In his typewritten notes, he substituted the word “lean’’ with “muscular.”
Jana sat and propped her feet on a covered coffee table and Cade glanced out at the driveway as a vehicle pulled up. “Six feet, one hundred and eighty-five pounds you say? Would you say the hair is true blond or more sandy?”
“Sandy. What does that matter?”
“Dark tan? Likes the unshaven look? Wears one of those woven cotton rope bracelets on his wrist like the locals?”
“Wait, what?”
“Did he tell you his full name?”
Jana thought about the question for a moment. “Come to think of it, no. Just his first name. I assumed he liked his anonymity. It wasn’t important to me, so I didn’t press it.”
Cade cocked his head at her. “You slept with a man and you only knew his first name? Did he give you his real first name, or did you just call him Johnny?”
Jana sat straight up. “Now how the hell do you know that? Wait a minute,” she said as the thought played forward. “You’ve been spying on me. You son of a bitch! Eavesdropping from your little cubical at NSA.”
Cade held both hands up. “Didn’t even know where you were until yesterday.”
“Then how do you know—”
“Because he’s here,” he said.
Jana spun toward the front of the house and looked out the bay window. Her mouth dropped open.
“Congrats, Jana,” Cade said. “You’ve been dating John Stone, private contractor to the DEA.”
16
Enter the Stone
Stone walked in and propped his shades on the top of his head, pulling his long sandy-blond hair from his face. His skin was bronzed, and he carried the relaxed air of a local.
Jana’s mouth hung open.
Stone’s hands found their way into the pockets of his tattered shorts, but even in his nervousness, he could not stop looking at Jana. His blue eyes were calm, almost tranquil. He looked like a person just waking from a restful sleep. “Hey, Baker,” he said.
Jana began to speak but no sounds emerged.
“Oh. My. God,” Cade said. “Well, this is awkward, isn’t it?” He looked at Jana, whose facial expression displayed something between shock and anger. But he could see something else in her eyes, something she was trying to hide—exhilaration.
“You,” she blurted. “What are you doing here?”
His voice was soft, disarming. “I know you’re mad,” he said. “And I’m not here to hand you any excuses. I disappeared on you, babe, and it’s my fault.”
“Your damn right it’s your fault,” she said. “You don’t do that. You don’t just up and vanish when you’re in the middle of something.”
Cade watched the two of them and bit his lower lip. He was witnessing something he had hoped he would not.
“I know. You’re right,” Stone said.
“Well I don’t want to hear it,” Jana said.
Stone went silent and waited. He was giving her time.
“So spit it out,” Jana said. “Why did you leave me? You meet someone else? I hope she was worth it.”
Cade wanted to melt into the aging floorboards.
“Baker, there’s no one—”
“Yeah, right,” she interrupted.
Stone walked toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Look at me. I mean it. There was no one.”
“You haven’t called me in a month,” she said with anger lacing her words.
“I was on an op,” Stone said. “Look, I knew you were Bureau, back before you came down here, and you knew I was . . . well, you knew I worked in a similar field. I was on an op and I couldn’t share anything with you.”
“An op? You up and disappear for a month? What kind of op? Now I learn that you’re supposed to be some contractor for the DEA? What else do I not know about you?”
“Didn’t you ever wonder where I learned it all? All the training I gave you? The weapons and tactics. The hand-to-hand. Demolitions, all that?”
“Yes, I wondered. But I assumed you had been in the military and didn’t want to talk about it. But that doesn’t give you the right to disappear.”
“I couldn’t talk about my work, Baker. Not until now, that is. Now that you’re back in the fold.”
“I’m not back in the fold,” she said. “I’m not Bureau. I’m never going back there. They don’t run me. I run me.”
Cade broke in. “Okay, okay. Can we interrupt this brush with the past? We’ve got a man missing.”
Jana did not acknowledge Cade. “You never even told me your last name. Not that I was asking, mind you. So is John your real name?”
“Of course it is. I never lied to you. And yes, I was military. But you’re right, I didn’t want to talk about it. There’s a lot of stuff I never want to talk about again. I’m just sorry it hurt you. I didn’t tell you about myself because I didn’t want to get burned when it ended.”
Rendition Protocol Page 6