“And his paperwork is in order,” said one of the feds, Sanders. “Except . . .” she trailed off and frowned.
“Except what?” asked Erik.
“It’s almost too perfect.” Everyone turned toward her, so she continued. “Normally, and I’m sure you’ve all seen this, there are human errors all over this stuff. Transposed numbers happen a lot. Name misspellings, though with a name like his, that would be difficult. And one of the biggest things we see with the clearance paperwork is date errors for places of residence. This guy,” she said, holding up his picture. “His stuff is perfect. Every date matches up. It’s like he leaves one place, and the next day, he’s got an address.”
“So, he took some liberties with the paperwork?” Erik asked. “Maybe he just did that to make things tidy.”
“Yeah, but most people don’t bother. And the instructions say not to, but people do. But the thing is, they still make mistakes. Another problem is that he’s reporting no foreign contacts. But he’s lived overseas.”
“He has?”
“Yeah, says right here,” she said, pointing at one sheet, “that he was a foreign exchange student in some small town in Italy back in 1993.”
“What town?” asked Erik.
“Trieste,” she said, watching as Simon pulled it up on a map and hit a button to project it on a screen. It was a small place, bordering what was now Slovenia, the former Yugoslavia.
“Top?” Randall looked over to Erik. “Would you dig through Maxwell Brewer’s file and see if he was anywhere near there back then?”
“Will do. Gimme a few,” Randall said, making his way to the other table. Things were getting cramped in there.
“So, are there any other oddities in his paperwork?” Erik asked Sanders.
“Not really. I think I’m going to check these addresses. And then I’ll work on the—wait. This is weird.”
“What is it?” Simon asked.
“Well, sometimes, if nothing flags, we pass things through, especially since this was such a low level access, but no one ever contacted any of his references.” She looked puzzled. “The investigators usually at least call a couple of them and talk over the phone.”
“We all know that the investigators are overworked and ragged with all the clearances,” Erik said. “This guy’s just got a public trust going on. Maybe someone was having a day and just rubber stamped the paperwork.”
“It’s entirely possible that you’re right. But maybe not. Yeah, I’m gonna go look at these addresses and look up the contacts as well,” she said, standing. “Top, may I use your office and computer?”
Randall nodded. “Go ahead. I’m logged in already. Yell if the screen’s locked.”
It apparently wasn’t, as the faint sound of clacking echoed down the hall. The room fell silent once more.
***
With no windows, Audrey had no way of knowing how long she’d been captive. Gross hadn’t come back in since she’d pushed him, though Tanja had. The frail woman had asked if she needed the bathroom, and a glimmer of hope had flared to life. She could take her easily. That hope was dashed when she realized the chair she was sitting on had been adapted for other uses when Tanja had reached underneath her to let down a hatch. She helped Audrey with her leggings and had turned her back as Audrey did her business into a bucket that had been placed there for her. She had mixed feelings about this—it was easier to deal with this sort of stuff wearing elastic waisted pants, but Tanja probably would have untied her had she been wearing jeans. Or not. Gross probably would have told her to let Audrey soil herself. It was an effective torture tactic; letting people sit in their own waste was not only unsanitary, it was demoralizing.
The woman wasn’t speaking to her at all anymore, either. Gross probably ordered her to keep quiet. Was she a slave? Stockholm syndrome? Had she gone through the same things that Audrey was going through now? She doubted it. Something was different about that woman. The one thing Audrey was certain of was that Gross was going to kill her. He hadn’t said so, but there was no way he’d leave her alive. How long she had depended on his temper, and her answers.
She couldn’t figure out what Maxwell had to do with any of this. Unless Maxwell was lying to him, but phone logs would have proven that. Even so, what difference would that make to Gross? Why the hell did he care?
Light footsteps approached, and Tanja brought in a small tray with a bowl and spoon on it. Great. Spoonfeeding time.
“How do I know there’s nothing in that?” she asked.
Tanja looked at her oddly. “I made it.”
“And? That means nothing,” she said.
“I wouldn’t put anything bad in food,” Tanja said.
“How do I know that?” Audrey asked. “I’m tied up to a chair in a blank room after being kidnapped by a lunatic. You’re helping him. Why should I believe you?”
Tanja stood. “I’ll just come back later.”
Audrey called out, “Why are you helping him?”
The small woman stopped in the doorway for a moment. She turned and opened her mouth to speak, but shook her head and left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Go hit the couch for an hour, Carwell,” Randall said.
Simon jerked upright. “I’m good.”
“Not a request. Go.”
He trudged out to the waiting area and flopped on the couch. Within seconds, he was out.
“Just pull, goddamn you!” Antony was yelling at him. Smoke was thick in the area, black and sooty. Antony was holding on to the handle of his car with one hand and gripping Simon’s wrist with the other. His feet were buried in the asphalt.
Flames licked out from the ground around them. Half of his body was on fire. The other half was numb. He swiped a hand across his face. He was sweating. His fingers caught in something stuck to him, and he tugged. A flash of pain broke through him and he flinched.
Antony yelled again. “Fuck! Get me out of here! It’s taking off!”
Simon looked at him. To his horror, Audrey’s face appeared in the car window. She was screaming. Bloody prints marked where her hands were slapping the glass.
Antony grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close. “Do it, Carwell. It’s the only way. We’re gonna die if you don’t.” Then he reared back as well as he could in his position and cracked Simon across the jaw.
Simon grabbed Ant’s arm and pulled as hard as he could. He fell over backwards on his ass and watched in horror as Antony flew toward him, leaving his legs stuck in the ground. The car that Audrey was in sped away, driverless. He heard her screams.
He came to with arms wrapped around him. His father was holding him, and Simon was sobbing loudly. “Shhhh. Shhhh . . . It’s okay, son. You’re safe. Ramos is safe,” Erik said softly, stroking his son’s hair.
Simon could see Antony leaning on the wall, just inside of the door. His leg, the one with the prosthetic, was bent at the knee resting on the wall behind him. “Sir?” he called. Erik turned toward him. “Can I have a few here?”
Erik nodded and stood. As he passed by Antony, he reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulder, squeezing it. Antony reached up and put his hand over Erik’s for a second. Then they were alone.
Simon was sitting on the couch, his face buried in his hands. Antony grabbed a box of tissue off of one of the shelves, and walked over to him, holding it out. “Here.”
Simon grabbed the box and pulled a couple tissues out of it. He mopped his face and remained silent.
“Bad one, eh?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it always about my leg?” Antony asked, getting right to the point.
“Yeah. Most of the time. I mean, there are other details that show up, like Smith’s hand, but yeah, mostly you.” Simon said.
“Dude. You saved my life.”
“I ripped off your leg!”
“Not really. It was already gone.”
“They could have fixed it,” Simon countered.
Antony sighed.
“You’re an idiot.”
“That helps.”
“Seriously. You know they went back to clean up the scene, right?” Simon nodded. “That means they gathered all the leftover parts. The doctors looked at my leg, Simon.”
He looked up. “Well, of course they did.”
“Yeah.” Antony absently scratched at the plastic piece at his knee. He said that it helped him when the foot that was no longer there itched. “They said that it would have come off, anyway. It was crushed beyond fixing.”
“But still—”
“But nothing, asshole. You saved my goddamned life. Yeah, I’m a few pounds lighter, but I’m here. I’m healthy. My mom doesn’t have a fucking gold star hanging from her window like so many others.”
“It still . . . it just,” Simon trailed off.
“I didn’t hear it, to be honest. Pretty sure I passed out. Probably a good thing.” He frowned. “You called out for Audrey.”
“She was there, too. She was in the car you were holding on to.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. It drove away.”
“We’re gonna get her back.”
Charlie called out. “When you’re done hugging it out in there, I think we might have something!”
They stood, and Antony pulled him in for a hug. “I’m here because of you, Simon. Remember that.”
Charlie had been working on backtracking through all the details. She’d stuck with double checking the time line every time additional information came trickling in. The absence of detail was sometimes more glaring than anything right in front of them, and something about it kept tickling at the back of her mind. Sanders’ work had given her the idea. She looked up as Antony and Simon came in. Simon’s screams had caused all of them to jump. It did not surprise her he had a terror. This was bad for all of them. The red numbers of the large stopwatch they’d started read 18:33—Audrey had been missing for over 18 hours. It sat on her desk, facing outward, a constant reminder that they were racing against time.
“Give us good news,” Range said, walking in with a stack of pizza boxes. They cleared a spot for him, and everyone grabbed slices, taking them back to their stations to continue work.
“So, I’ve gone back over the post access logs, and I noticed something,” Charlie began.
“We’re listening,” Erik said, pen in hand. He had one leg crossed over the other, ankle resting on a knee. A notepad balanced there.
“It doesn’t happen every time, but it has often enough to make me wonder. I’ve already put in a call to run the names,” she paused. “Sorry, I’m being cryptic. There’s another name that has come up with Chad Gross on quite a few logs.”
“Someone on the same schedule?” Erik asked.
“No, someone else being scanned in,” Charlie said. “Like, the same time. As in, I think they’re together.”
“What’s the name?”
“Tanja Graovac,” Charlie replied. “I’m having them pull her access logs as well.”
Antony was tapping at his keyboard. “Tanja Graovac. Works at the PX.” He stood. “I’ll head over.”
Range stood as well. “I’ll go with you.”
***
Audrey came to with a slap across her cheek. She wasn’t aware that she’d fallen asleep. By her fatigue level, she’d been up for probably about 36 hours, maybe less given the added stress. She opened her eyes and wished desperately that she could rub the grit out of them. Slowly, Gross came into view. He was sneering, and his eyes were lit with hatred.
“You stink, you stupid bitch,” he said.
Audrey smacked her lips. Her entire mouth was dry. Dehydration. Not good. “Well, if you’ll just untie me and show me where the shower is, I’d be happy to freshen up.”
SMACK!
This shit again. Might as well make it count. “Look, Gross, why don’t you just get it over with? We both know you aren’t letting me out of this. Just put on your manties and make it happen.”
“Oh, we’ll get to that,” he said. “Later. First, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.” He pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.
“Well, okay. Your dye job needs refreshing,” she started.
SMACK!
“And you could really use a mint.”
SMACK! Her vision was going blurry. She had to hold out—she was so close.
He was turning red again. It was easy to spin this one up. He leaned in and she leaned back as much as she could.
“Who is Maxwell Brewer working with?” he yelled. He punctuated each word with a hard slap to her face.
“You’re his lawyer. You tell me!” she yelled back.
He cocked his fist and hit her. The world swam and then turned black.
***
“Well, she hasn’t been at work the last two days. Got her employment records,” Antony said, tossing his keys on the desk and handing a folder to Charlie.
“Yeah, we got a copy of her W-2 and birth certificate. Looking into her parents now,” said Simon.
“Graovac. Slavic, yes?” Antony asked.
“Yeah. Her birth certificate says she was born in Louisiana. We’re getting the hospital admin on the phone there now to pull her records,” Simon said, holding the phone away from his ear. Whoever he was waiting for came back on the line and he grabbed his pen. “Yes? Really? You’re sure. Is there another hospital there by the same name? No? Well, thank you for checking.” He hung up and found all eyes were on him. “No record of Tanja Graovac born in that hospital on any date. No record of either that first name spelling, or last name at all.”
Randall stood. “I’m going to the prison. Time to rattle a cage.”
Visiting hours didn’t matter when it came to active cases, and Randall wasn’t there on a social call, anyway. He and the Sergeant Major strode down the hall to the interrogation room and the guard let them in with a nod. Maxwell Brewer was sitting at the table, shackled at the wrist and ankle.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, gentlemen?” he asked. He had tried for a bored air, but his curiosity was clear.
“Who is Tanja Graovac?” Randall asked.
“I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Maxwell replied, smiling.
“I’m sure you do, Brewer, and you’re going to tell us.”
“And what do I get out of it?”
“Well, to start, you won’t be charged as an accessory to Agent Linser’s abduction and murder. How does that grab you?”
Maxwell’s face went lax, and the blood drained out of it. “That’s what he—” He shook his head. “Anything else?”
Randall looked down on Maxwell. “If she dies, we will make sure that the only light of day you see, is your hour a day out of solitary. For the rest of your life.”
Range added, “Oh, and you’ll be getting a new lawyer appointed to you. Seems that yours might become your new neighbor soon enough.”
The men walked to the door and rapped on it. It opened, and they left Maxwell, sitting alone.
“What do you think?” asked Range.
“I think we aren’t much further along than we were before, but at least we know it was Gross helping Brewer.”
Once they were through the gate, Randall pulled out his phone and called the office. “Madden, has anyone done anything with those tapes or transcripts yet? Well, get them out. We’re on the way back.”
By the time the men arrived, the team had found a record from a 19-year-old woman who had reported her toddler daughter missing. The audio was traumatic, and the voice that came out of the recorder was so distraught that Charlie shivered and wrapped her arms around her torso. The woman on the recording had been at a cafe in Banja Luka and had stepped up to the counter for a fresh cup of coffee. When she turned around, her child was gone. She’d chosen this cafe, she said, because it was never busy and she liked that. That also meant that there were no other patrons to see what had happened.
Erik pressed the stop button on the tape p
layer. After a few moments of silence, he spoke, “Chad Gross was only living in Trieste for that one year, right?”
“Yes,” Simon said.
“Where was he based out of after that?”
“New York City. Brooklyn, specifically.” Simon flipped through the pages. “He spent the next few years there.”
“And no record of foreign travel.”
“Not that he listed,” Simon answered.
“Well, that was a lie.” Erik stood and, finding nowhere to pace, stretched and stood there. “Do we have his property records?”
Charlie spoke up. “Yes. Nothing.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ll pull them in her name.”
“While you’re at it,” Erik said, “Run a search for Chad Graovac. Just for grins.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Audrey woke again. She’d been in and out for hours. Her head wasn’t throbbing anymore—it was one constant pulse of pain. She was severely dehydrated which amplified the pain from the beatings she’d taken from Gross. She opened her eyes. Still nothing, except for that one light out beyond the door. She heard shuffling, and Tanja came in, holding a bottle of water and a straw. She approached and kneeled in front of Audrey.
“Drink,” she said.
“What’s in it,” Audrey croaked.
“Water. Listen.” Tanja took the bottle and opened the cap. The sound of the plastic threads breaking the seal sounded. Didn’t mean that they couldn’t have injected the bottle with something, but Audrey was past the point of caring. If he was going to kill her, he wasn’t going to do it by poisoning her drink. He wanted to get his hands dirty.
She drank. And she drank some more. Tanja stayed there, holding the straw up to her mouth whenever she leaned toward it. Finally, she pulled away. Audrey looked up at her.
“Not all at once. We should wait a few minutes. I don’t want you to get sick,” Tanja said.
Audrey nodded and leaned back. She kept her mouth shut and studied the young woman. Tanja stood there and allowed herself to be studied. After a few moments, she kneeled back down.
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