“Actually, no I don’t. He or his accomplice needs to stick around to get the cash. I have no idea why they aren’t asking for an electronic money transfer but having an in-person swap is in our favor. It means they have to be around with your daughter in hand. All that said, we need to be prepared for anything.”
The kidnapper couldn’t have gone far with Lizzy.” Jon donned his coat, “I’m going to the Reno airport.” To the negotiator, he said, “Let me know the minute the kidnapper calls back with where the money drop will be.”
The woman said, “Will do.”
“I’m coming with you,” Luanne said, sidling up beside Jon as he ran for the exit.
The look on her face told him there was no point or time to argue with the woman. He knew if it were him, he wouldn’t take no for an answer either. She wanted the story, and he had no desire to stand in her way.
***
New York City
Matthews received Jon’s message and phoned him back.
“Sir, hold on, I’m getting in the car. Heading to Reno.”
He heard a car door open and shut, then another. Moments later, Jon came back on the line, giving an update. He explained the ransom demand. “Franklin couldn’t get to Lizzy himself. He wasn’t skilled enough to abduct her off the slopes. Assuming he has only one accomplice, that had to be the sniper who shot Bernie.”
“Agreed,” Matthews said.
Jon hesitated, then said, “Something’s off.” If the son wants his father’s money, why all the theatrics? Franklin had access to anyone’s money. Sure, it may be symbolic, but why risk getting caught for money he doesn’t need? My gut’s screaming.”
During their past cases, Matthews had learned to not disregard Jon’s instincts. “What’s your thinking?”
“The sniper is working solo now. We got too close to Franklin and he hired someone to scare us off. For whatever reason, Franklin left Lizzy behind with this thug. Either it was part of their agreement or the sniper went rogue. Franklin wanted revenge, not a payout. He got that with Lizzy’s abduction, but he doesn’t need the money. This is the other guy at work.”
Matthews felt an odd sense of pride at his subordinate’s logic. “That sounds on target. Either way we need to get the Davis’s daughter back and right now it seems your best shot is the lead to Franklin.”
“I’m going to try and get him at the airport. Can you get the powers that be to ground departing flights?”
“No judge will agree to that with what we have so far. Your best bet is Reno. I’ll contact the area FBI field office and put them on alert. We need to play the odds, and you’re right. Reno has the most flight options for him. I just emailed you a photo of Oakley I got from his previous job ID card. It’s clearer than what the PI sent us. Use it as needed.” Matthews heard a woman’s voice. “Parker with you?”
“Yessir. She’s checking my phone for the photo right now.”
Matthews said, “Keep her out of harm’s way. We don’t need another civilian in the line of fire, Jon.”
“Doing my best, sir. We’re going after Oakley, but what do we do about the kidnapper?”
Matthews paused a moment, then said, “Hope that the negotiator is really good at her job.”
Chapter 48
Reno, Nevada
Jon sped along California Highway 28 north to Reno. They were probably a good hour behind Oakley. Hugging the lake on his right, he nearly mowed down a line of spandex-clad bikers peddling hard up the hill. He crossed the border into Nevada, a blur of casino billboards flying by. Luanne was bracing herself against the car’s dash with one hand, scrolling on her phone with the other. “There are only two flights remaining for the day that could make sense for Oakley if he wants to make it to the Bahamas without an overnight layover—JFK and Miami.”
“Good work.”
When they arrived at the airport, Jon brought the car to an abrupt halt in front of the departure terminal and the two raced inside. Without government plates, he didn’t expect the vehicle to be there when they returned.
Jon flashed his badge, rushing past the security line as annoyed passengers looked on. His leg was starting to act up. To Luanne, he said, “You take the JFK gate, I’ll take Miami.” The two split up and went their own ways.
***
Franklin’s stumps were killing him. Not phantom pains but real ones thanks to the surviving nerve endings. He’d been meticulous about caring for his residual limbs, gently donning the liners before securing the sockets to his stumps. But he also knew he wasn’t supposed to wear the bionics for more than two hours at a time so soon after the fitting. It was now nearly three. He felt the exertion wearing him down. If he could get on the plane, and detach the legs, he’d have time to recover before they landed, before putting them back on. The thought was distressing but he would only request a wheelchair if there was no other choice. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself.
***
Reno-Tahoe International Airport
Jon wasn’t sure if he was looking for a wheelchair, but that’s where he’d start. It was the easiest thing to spot. Two airline employees were pushing chair-bound passengers toward the Miami gate. Neither was Franklin. The gate attendant called for main cabin passengers to board. Several people stood up and got in line. Jon approached the desk, where a young blonde woman in a red vest and matching lipstick was putting down her handheld speaker. He showed her his ID.
The woman studied it. “Do we have an issue with this flight, Agent Steadman?” Her tone was concerned but professional.
“Not sure yet.” Jon showed her the photo of Franklin that Matthews had sent him. “I’m looking for this man. Franklin Oakley. He’s likely using an assumed name. He may be in a wheelchair, but perhaps not.”
The woman looked closely at the photo. “Many of the passengers have already boarded. But I don’t recognize him.”
“I’ll need to take a look. Please stop the boarding for the moment. If you see him, don’t approach. Act normally.”
She nodded despite the fear in her eyes. Jon stepped past her onto the jet bridge. And boarded the plane.
***
Franklin was relieved to be in his seat. He pressed the release on his prosthetics, loosening the legs.
***
Luanne did a second walk-through, studying every passenger at the gate. She didn’t see Oakley. If he spotted her first and realized who she was, he would be sure to try and dodge her. She wasn’t sure what Jon expected her to do without Fed credentials. Two passengers were waiting to speak to the gate agent. She got in line and waited her turn.
***
Jon walked down the aircraft’s center aisle, then checked the restrooms. Several passengers eyed him with curiosity. Franklin wasn’t there. Jon called Luanne. “He’s not on this flight.”
Luanne said, “I don’t see him at the gate. They just closed the boarding door. I asked the rep and he didn’t think he saw him.”
“Tell the desk attendant to ground the plane.”
Jon heard the exchange. It wasn’t going smoothly. “Put him on the phone.”
Jon explained the situation, but the man seemed unsure. “You’ll need to speak with the pilot, sir. It’s a busy night. He might not want to miss his slot for takeoff.”
Jon was amazed at the attitude. “Has everyone forgotten 9-11? What’s your name?”
“Drew, sir.”
“Listen real carefully, Drew. If you don’t find a way to hold the plane until I get over to your gate, I will hold you personally responsible for allowing a terrorist to get away.”
“T-Terrorist?” The man’s voice was thin, panicky. “I’ll call the pilot now.”
Jon hung up and hurried to the JFK gate as fast as his leg would allow.
***
Franklin looked at his watch. They should have taxied by now. A prickle of fear ran up his spine. Calm down, there’s no way they can find you. He leaned back his head and closed his eyes. Six minutes later he was
woken by a commotion at the front of the plane. A male voice came over the PA system. “Franklin Oakley, this is Special Agent Jon Steadman. Press the call button over your seat. We’re coming for you.”
Chapter 49
Reno-Tahoe International Airport
When Jon reached Oakley’s seat, his prostheses were not attached, no legs extending beyond the cuffs of his rolled-up pants. Jon told a flight attendant—a thirty-something well-built man—to call security, then asked his help carrying a red-faced, cursing Oakley off the aircraft.
Once escorted onto the jetway, the attendant seated Oakley in a wheelchair and handed Jon a hard silver case. “Here’s the carry-on from under his seat.”
Jon thanked the flight attendant and wheeled Oakley into the terminal, past a stunned Luanne watching in amazement. If onlookers were disturbed by the spectacle, they said nothing.
He was met by two armed men who appeared past the age of retirement. Their presence seemed to cause Franklin to clam up. Jon showed them his ID and was given access to a small office.
Once inside, Jon flicked on the light and locked the door. He hovered over the wheelchair, hoping his six-foot frame would be sufficiently intimidating.
Franklin’s face was flush with ire. “What the hell is going on?” His air of indignation was laced with apprehension.
“We’re going to have a little chat.”
“You’re not allowed to do this. You’re supposed to read me my rights.”
“Is that so?”
Franklin jutted his jaw. “How’d you find me?”
Jon leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, as though he had all the time in the world. “I’m the one asking the questions. Where’s Lizzy Davis?”
Franklin’s face and tone turned flat. “Who?”
“You really going to stoop that low?”
Oakley darted his eyes as if trying to think his way out. Then shrugged.
Jon was hit with a wave of ferocity, a fireball of anger welling up inside him. He’d seen this scene before. Egomaniacs playing with the lives of the innocent for their own sick reasons.
He let it erupt.
Jon pulled his gun, put it against Oakley’s temple. “You don’t know me, asshole, but I’ve got my own issues. And one thing I despise is people who mess with little kids.”
Franklin's body began to tremble, his face draining of color, sweat sprouting on his forehead. He did his best to keep his voice steady. He failed. “I’m not scared to die.”
“Glad to hear it.” Jon cocked the weapon.
Oakley tightly shut his eyes. “Okay, okay. Gerard took her.”
Jon took his finger off the trigger. “Who’s Gerard?”
“Just someone I met on the web. No idea if that’s his real name.”
“Where did he take Lizzy?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
Jon pressed the barrel deeper. “Say hello to the devil from me.”
“I-I can find him.” Then, “I put spyware on his phone.”
“Like you did with Peter Cromwell?”
Oakley gave a near-imperceptible nod.
Jon lowered the gun, his mind racing, desperate to connect the dots. Did Franklin get his hands on Wang’s spyware? Is it Franklin who’s negotiating its sale with the White Knight? “Now we’re talking, Frankie. Get me the location. Now.”
“The phone’s in my pocket.”
“Take it out slowly. I wouldn’t want to accidentally shoot you.”
Franklin did as he was told, then tapped his phone a few times. “Here are the coordinates.”
Raising the gun on him with one hand, Jon took the phone with the other. It showed a series of seemingly random numbers. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Put it in my GPS?”
“It’s more complicated than that. It’s in a beta phase.”
Jon wasn’t going to stand in the tiny office getting a tutorial. By coming to Reno, he’d already created a greater distance between him and this guy, Gerard. He told Franklin to pull up the tracker, pocketed the phone, and wheeled Franklin out of the office. Luanne was sitting nearby, keeping a close eye, but staying out of the way of two waiting police officers. Before Jon could intervene, one cuffed Franklin and read him his rights. The second officer relieved Jon of the wheelchair’s handles. Jon said, “He’s coming with me”
The officer appeared perplexed. “What do you mean? We got a call from Sheriff Harding in Placer County. We need to book him.”
“Not happening. I need him to help me locate an abducted child. I’ll bring him in when the op’s done.”
The officers looked unsure. Jon got Harding on the phone, put him on speaker for the officers to hear. He explained what he needed to do.
“How long?” the sheriff asked.
“Till I find Lizzy Davis.”
“What if he takes you on a wild goose chase?”
A fierce stillness came over Jon, such that one of the officers took a step back. “Then I won’t be bringing him back.”
Jon walked a few feet away, leaving Franklin momentarily with the officers. He called Matthews, quickly giving him an update, filling him in on where he was headed and that he may have a direct lead to the White Knight. It was time to contact the Mossad.
***
Jon speed-wheeled Oakley outside, Luanne jogging beside him. A tow truck was pulling up in front of their car. He pulled out the keys from his pocket and called out to the driver. “Car’s mine.”
A middle-aged guy with a John Deere cap got out of the truck, smirked at him. “You’re parked illegally, man. You can’t just leave a car here like it’s a parking lot. We’re already here, so you’ll have to get it from the pound.”
Out of sight, Jon handed his pistol to Luanne. “Help Oakley into the car.” He turned, rushing to the man who was already approaching Jon’s car, holding a chain in his hand. Jon flipped open his badge case, sticking the medallion in the guy’s face “Take it up with the FBI.”
The man’s smirk turned to distaste, but he backed off.
Jon got behind the wheel. Veering away from the curb, the tow truck driver gave him the finger.
Luanne was in the backseat, Oakley riding shotgun. Keeping the pistol gripped in her hand, she leaned forward, whispered in Jon’s left ear. “What on Earth happened in that office?”
Hearing her, Oakley said, “He pulled his gun on me. That’s what happened!”
Jon took Oakley’s phone from his pocket, handing it to Luanne behind him. He spoke as if Oakley wasn’t in the car. “There’s a tracker in Gerard’s phone. If we’re lucky, it will lead us straight to Lizzy Davis. Please navigate.”
“Looks like we’re heading back to the lake. Fifty-five minutes.”
Jon floored it.
Luanne grabbed the door handle. “Whoa!”
“We need to get there before the swap time and the guy bolts. He has me to answer to.”
“The Pitbull?”
Jon nodded, his voice resolute. “The Pitbull.”
***
New York City
Matthews expected Yosef Kahn would take no issue with being woken up in the middle of the night. He was right. His usual enigmatic self, Kahn showed no emotion when Matthews shared what was known about the hacking attacks on Peter Cornwall, Caroline Atwood, and Congressman Taylor. Seemed impassive to the abduction of Lizzy Davis.
“You think those cases are tied to the White Knight?”
“We have identified one person who appears connected to them all.”
Yosef asked several follow-up questions and then hung up, never once saying thank you.
Chapter 50
Alpine Meadows
Lizzy heard more than she saw. Someone was chewing. Sounded like potato chips. Maybe those funny-shaped ones. She liked the sour cream and onion flavor. Her stomach grumbled and her left leg felt numb. She tried opening her eyes, but only got her lids to half-mast. Weird, she thought.
“Mom, can I have something to eat?” She wasn
’t sure if the words actually came out of her. Her brain was slowly waking, but something was off. Her words sounded slurred and her throat felt terribly dry. Struggling to lift her eyelids, she got a glimpse of the mattress beneath her, wooden floors beyond that. And several feet away, a pair of legs. A man’s.
“Mom?”
The legs shifted, the chewing stopped.
Large brown snow boots, the tips discolored from drying snow, walked toward her. Dad doesn’t have those boots. When they were just below her face, she knew something was terribly wrong. She forced out her next words, hoping she’d be heard. “Where am I?”
“You’re in a fairy tale, kid. And you’re the star.” The voice was male, refined, sounded like her English teacher.
I must still be dreaming. It was scary, but so were lots of fairy tales. “Which one?” she asked the wet boots.
“Sleeping Beauty, of course.”
Lizzy liked that. The prince—Daddy—would come soon to kiss her. True love would revive her. Before she could reply, a snot-smeared handkerchief blocked her vision.
“Let’s hope Daddy’s as rich as he looks or you won’t be waking up ever again.”
The cloth made contact with her face and Lizzy Davis was dragged back into a bottomless, dreamless sleep.
***
Reno—Tahoe
Luanne was a nervous wreck. Sure, she wanted the story, was willing to take risks to get it . . . and had. The lethal hike in the Sonoma mountains and the crazy ATV ride in Texas were still very fresh in her mind. The story had the potential to propel her career to all new heights, but proved more dangerous than she would have ever signed up for. Now, Jon was driving like a maniac and a paraplegic hacker responsible for the attacks—and possibly the deaths of innocent people—sat in the seat in front of her.
Jon’s phone rang. He answered via the car’s Bluetooth. It was the hostage negotiator.
“Any news?”
“The kidnapper called back with the drop point. He wants the whole thing to go down in thirty minutes. It’s just enough time for Theo to get there. The guy knows what he’s doing.”
Vengeance: An Action-Adventure Novel (A Jon Steadman Thriller Book 3) Page 26