by Matt Lincoln
“No!” I screamed, but the call had already ended. I threw the phone to the ground and yanked at my hair while I cursed up a storm. This wasn’t fair. I hadn’t even been the one to kill Jackson. How could I have even known that would happen? If we’d just moved a little faster, we could have gotten in contact with him before he heard about it.
“Charlie,” Miranda’s voice broke through my rampage. “You need to calm down.”
I wanted to scream at her. How was I supposed to calm down? The kidnapper was going to kill Amber in retaliation for something I hadn’t even done. Instead, I just dragged a hand roughly over my face.
“Fiona,” Wallace called. “Did you manage to trace that?”
I could have laughed at that. We’d barely been on the phone for a minute. Maybe two, max. Contrary to what the movies depicted, that was not enough time to trace a call.
“No, I didn’t,” she responded, furiously typing away at her computer. “But I might have something better.”
I snapped my head up to look at her so fast I made myself dizzy.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t trace the call,” she admitted. “I had a feeling we wouldn’t have enough time. Instead, while he was on the line, I was hacking into his phone. If I give myself remote access, I’ll be able to control his phone without him ever knowing. We can call him again, and I’ll force his phone to answer before it even rings. He’ll have no idea we’re calling him, and we’ll have as much time as we need to track him down.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I’d owe Fiona for the rest of my life if she was right about this.
“That’s incredible,” Junior commented as he leaned down to peer over her shoulder at the screen. “I didn’t know you could hack a phone like that.”
“I’m not supposed to,” she replied curtly. “It’s incredibly illegal, regardless of the reason, as I am sure Director Wallace is aware. I’ll be happy to tender my resignation at the conclusion of this case if I have to.”
I could kiss Fiona right now if I didn’t think Junior would be upset with me for it. She was putting her entire career on the line to do this. I really didn’t know how I’d ever repay her.
“Let’s worry about that later,” Wallace muttered. “Right now, do what you need to do to track the kidnapper.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Okay, it’s ready. As soon as you press the call button, I’ll force the kidnapper’s phone to accept.”
I rushed to retrieve the phone from where I’d thrown it, relieved that it still seemed to be fully functional aside from a crack down the center. I placed it on the table where Fiona could see it.
I was sweating with anxiety. We only had one shot at this. If the kidnapper realized what we were doing, he might turn his phone off entirely. If he did that, we’d really have no way to find him.
I pushed aside my doubts and pressed the green button. Fiona’s hands flew across the keys the second I did, and I waited with bated breath for what she would say.
“We’re in,” she smiled, her shoulders drooping as all the tension left her body at once. “I muted the microphone and speaker, so there won’t be any kind of noise interference to tip him off. As long as he doesn’t look at his phone for the next ten minutes or so, we should be golden.”
“Alright,” Wallace nodded. “Castillo and Chapman, get ready to head out as soon as Gardner has a location.”
“What?” I protested angrily. “I’m going too.”
“Absolutely not,” Wallace rejected me immediately. “You’re too close to this case, Charlie. You’re too emotionally invested and don’t think I haven’t heard about what happened with Davis in Bermuda.”
I ground my teeth together, unsure how to respond to that.
“I’m not saying I don’t understand why you did that,” he sighed. “But you’re in enough hot water as it is. I can’t risk that happening again.”
“It won’t,” I tried to assure him. Before I could offer any more arguments, Wallace’s phone went off.
“It’s Agent Patel,” he frowned as he answered the call and held the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”
A feeling of foreboding washed over me as I watched Wallace’s expression morph from confusion into horror.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked into the phone. We all fell silent as we watched him listen to whatever the person on the other end of the call was saying. “I understand.” He ended the call and turned to face us. “Patel has discovered the identity of the supplier.”
“What?!” Miranda exclaimed. “Who is it?”
“Sandra Baker,” Wallace replied. “The founder of the Hope for Children organization that Charlie and Naomi visited at the beginning of the case.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, shocked by the revelation. “We found that pamphlet in the Weavers’ house, but we assumed they were researching ways to keep their actions unnoticed. We even asked for her help. Patel gave her a business card…” I trailed off as I realized how the group had managed to find our office so quickly.
“That card has her work number on it,” Miranda chimed in. “She’s always been so anal-retentive about being professional. She has all her cards printed with her title and extension. No wonder they were able to keep tabs on us. She was watching us from the beginning!”
“There were kids there,” I interjected as I suddenly remembered the shouts of laughter Patel and I had heard from the back room when we’d gone to see her. “She said they were her foster kids.”
“We need to look into it,” Wallace said. “It’s possible that’s where Amber is, and if not, we now know for a fact that there are other children there.”
“I have something!” Fiona suddenly shouted. “I managed to trace the call to an area out in the middle of the desert a few miles north of here. I cross-referenced the location to properties owned by Sandra Baker, and I got a match. There’s an abandoned mine shaft out there that she owns. According to the city records, she purchased it about a year ago for a pittance since it was condemned due to instability.”
“That’s in a completely different direction than the Hope for Children organization,” I responded. “The building is right here in the city.”
“We need to split up,” Junior suggested. “Two people can go and check out the organization headquarters, and two can go to the abandoned mine.”
“We only have two field agents,” Wallace countered. “Three, if I include myself.”
“So let me go,” I insisted. “We don’t have time to sit around arguing about it.”
“I’ll go too,” Fiona suddenly stood from her seat. “I’ve been in the field before. I know it’s been a few months since Japan, but I can handle it. I’ve been spending every weekend at the shooting range since then.”
“I’m not sure,” Wallace frowned.
“You’re needed here,” Fiona replied. “For Eliza and to handle everything going on with Naomi and the cops. I finished tracing the call, so there’s nothing left for me to do here, anyway.”
“Alright,” Wallace nodded after another moment of hesitation. “You’re right. We don’t have time to argue about it now. We’ll be having a serious discussion about the conduct of this team when everyone returns, though. And I fully expect every single one of you to return.”
“We will,” Miranda responded as she grabbed my arm to pull me out of the office. “Let’s move, guys.”
“I’ll call for backup and have them meet you at the location of the mine,” Wallace called. “Be careful.”
We hurried out of the office and toward the elevator.
“Charlie, Junior,” Fiona began, “I’m texting you the location of the abandoned mine. You two head there while Miranda and I go get Sandra.”
“Got it,” I responded as we exited the elevator and rushed into the parking lot. I jumped into the nearest company car and peeled out as soon as Junior was inside. The location was about thirty minutes away, but I’d make it in twenty if I pushed it. I could fe
el the adrenaline rushing through my veins as I desperately hoped we’d get to Amber in time.
36
Miranda
I came to a screeching halt in front of the Hope for Children building. The car was splayed out across three spots, but I didn’t bother correcting my terrible parking job. Instead, I hopped straight out of the car.
“You good?” I asked Fiona as she climbed out of the passenger side.
“I think you shaved a few years off my life there,” she quipped. “But I’ll manage.”
I snorted a laugh in response.
“Come on,” I chuckled. “I want to get my hands on this witch.”
We made our way up to the door. It was completely dark inside, which was a little odd considering it was the middle of the day. I pounded on the door and waited, but nothing happened.
“What should we do?” Fiona asked uncertainly. “Should we head to her house, instead?”
“Not quite yet,” I responded. I took a few steps back before running forward and kicking at the door. The glass window in the top half of the door shattered but didn’t break.
“Miranda,” Fiona gasped behind me.
“Gimme a minute,” I replied before repeating the action. This time the glass fractured into pieces and came raining down on both sides of the door. I reached inside carefully and unlocked it from the inside.
“Ow,” I hissed as I nicked my arm on a jagged piece of broken glass.
“What on earth is going on?” a woman called shrilly from the end of the hall.
“You must be Sandra Baker,” I called as I pushed the door open.
“I’m calling the police,” Sandra yelled.
“Please do,” I scoffed. “Whatever gets them here faster.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Sandra sputtered as she fumbled with the phone in her hands.
“Yeah, okay,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m Agent Castillo with MBLIS. This is Agent Gardner. I’m assuming I don’t have to tell you why we’re here.”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Sandra balked.
“Why do they always say that?” I mused aloud. “Even Junior tried it.”
“Wait, what?” Fiona asked, turning to look at me.
“Not important,” I brushed her off. “Is Amber here, Sandra?”
“Wh-who’s that?” Sandra stuttered, looking around as if searching for a viable excuse.
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” I sneered as I stalked slowly toward her. She wasn’t armed, and it didn’t look like she was carrying anything, but I needed to be careful. I stopped about a foot in front of her and fished my phone out of my pocket. I scrolled through my contact list until I found the number I was looking for and pressed the call button.
A tinny, cheerful jingle filled the surrounding air. Sandra didn’t move, but it was clear the sound was coming from her person.
“That’s your phone,” I raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you get it?”
She was visibly trembling now, and her mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, but no sound came out.
“I just dialed the number that the Weavers were in constant communication with around the time they came into possession of Kamya. Also, coincidentally, the number that both Collin Atkins and the Anderson couple called before they came to be in possession of illegally trafficked children as well. It’s your number, Sandra. You’re the one who’s been trafficking children into this country.”
She gasped before suddenly turning and making a break down the hall. I took off after her and tackled her to the ground just seconds later. Sandra was a middle-aged woman with short legs, and she really never had a chance of outrunning me.
“You’re hurting me!” She squawked as I forced her arms behind her back.
“I’m sorry,” I replied sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to be more careful from now on.”
Just as I was finishing getting the handcuffs clicked in place, I heard the sound of a child’s voice singing from one of the back rooms. The three of us fell silent, and Sandra’s face went white.
“I’ve got it,” Fiona muttered as she began to make her way down the hall toward the source of the noise.
“Careful,” I called. “We don’t know if any of her men are here right now.”
Fiona nodded and glared at Sandra as she passed.
“Stay away from my kids!” she screamed.
“They’re not your kids, you evil--,” I cut myself off with a groan. I needed to remain cool-headed right now.
I couldn’t leave Sandra alone, so Fiona would have to clear the building on her own. It wasn’t a very large place, and the fact that no one had come running to Sandra’s rescue when she started shrieking was probably a good sign that there weren’t any other adults here right now.
Sandra was still struggling and yelling on the floor, but I tuned her out, hopeful that the police backup Wallace had said he was sending would be here soon. Just as I was thinking that, I caught sight of flashing lights through the front windows of the building. The sirens were off, probably to avoid alerting anyone inside that they were here—nice tactic, but a little late considering I already had the suspect apprehended.
“Police, put your hands up!” one of the officers yelled as he ran into the building.
“Help me!” Sandra screamed. “She’s trying to kill me!”
“Oh, shut up,” I groaned. “I’m Agent Castillo, with MBLIS. Ms. Baker here is the one we came to arrest. We heard voices in the back. We’re pretty sure it’s the kids, but we haven’t confirmed. My partner is back there now.”
“Understood,” the cop nodded as she directed the other officers to restrain Sandra and do a search of the building. Now that Sandra was in their custody, I rushed to the back to check on Fiona. She hadn’t said anything since she’d gone back there.
I found her in an office tucked in the very rear of the building. There was a large, colorful alphabet carpet on the floor, and toys and books were scattered all over the ground. Fiona was sitting cross-legged on the floor and speaking softly to three children.
“Fi, are you okay?” I asked as I stepped into the room. “You disappeared on me and then didn’t say anything.”
“Oh, shoot,” Fiona grimaced. “I forgot to call it after I cleared all the rooms. Sorry, I’m not used to being in the field.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” I chuckled.
“Anyway,” she stood and dropped her voice to a whisper, “the kids seemed really scared and confused when I barged in here with my gun out. I thought it might be a good idea to stay and keep them company until backup arrived.”
“That was probably a good call,” I replied as I looked down at the kids. They seemed pretty small. The oldest of the three couldn’t have been more than eight years old or so.
“They asked about her,” Fiona muttered. “They kept calling her ‘mom’ and asking where she was. I told them I was a friend of hers, and that seemed good enough for them. What are we supposed to do now?”
“We’ll let social services handle it,” I replied.
That was definitely an interesting detail. The situation here looked more like what we’d found with the Andersons than with the Weavers. The kids treated Sandra as their mom and seemed happy and calm. Why did some kids end up in relatively loving situations while others ended up living in servitude? I needed to get to the bottom of this.
I marched back out of the room and down the hall toward the entrance. Sandra was still screaming as she was loaded into the back of a police car.
“You don’t understand!” she hollered. “I gave those kids a roof over their heads! That’s more than they would have had in that third world country I plucked them from! Do you have any idea the kinds of things people will do to get into this country? I gave that to them! They owe it to me!”
The officer slammed the car door shut in her face as he shook his head in disgust. I was relieved not to have to listen to her inane rambling anymore. I pulled my phone out of my pocket an
d called Wallace to let him know that we’d apprehended Sandra but that Amber wasn’t here. My hands shook as I looked for his number. Part of me had hoped we’d find Amber here, safe and sound. Now that hope was gone, and I knew that Charlie was heading straight into the lion’s den.
37
Charlie
I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I swerved around a mossy green pickup truck and just narrowly avoided hitting its rear bumper.
“Charlie, slow down,” Junior implored from the passenger seat.
“Not a chance,” I responded as I overtook another car. “We need to get to Amber.”
“We won’t get to her if we’re splattered across the highway!” he snapped.
I bit back a retort. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. I was too reckless. If we were to get in a crash, not only would we be stranded with no way to proceed, but I might accidentally hurt someone else in the process. Still, every second that passed felt like another second too long.
I forced myself to slow down. Still above the speed limit, but not so fast that I was threatening to careen into another car every few seconds.
“We’re going to have to go off-road,” Junior said as he checked the address on his phone. “The mine’s literally in the middle of the desert, about a mile up and to the east.”
“Alright,” I replied. I’d wished now that we’d taken one of the larger company vehicles. None of MBLIS’s cars were really equipped to drive through rocky desert terrain, but I had a feeling one of the vans would have fared better than this small sedan. It was too late to worry about that now, though.
I began to slow the car down in preparation for turning off of the road, and once we hit the designated mile marker, I turned the steering wheel sharply. The transition was rough and sudden, and the car rattled violently. Once the car settled out, however, I accelerated again. Now that there were no other cars on the road, I didn’t really have to worry about speed.
We drove straight for about ten minutes. I could hear metallic dings and high-pitched scratches as the car drove over rocks and barrelled through dry weeds. I knew the car was going to be in rough shape by the time we were done with it, but as long as it held out until we got to the mine, I didn’t really care.