11

Lynx

 

 

Panther Force War Room, Iniquus Headquarters, Washington DC

 

 

“Give it a minute to think.” Nutsbe pushed his rolling chair back from the computer and meandered over to the coffee station.

“I appreciate you doing this for us.” Lynx said. “I know it’s not a direct line to the Levinski kids, but this is Ari’s teacher who’s acting one-eighty to her normal character.”

“And you think this might give us a direction?” he asked, tipping the sugar until a broad stream poured into his cup, turning the black coffee into liquid candy.

That’ll give his overtaxed system a jolt. Lynx reached for a container of coconut water. She’d been drinking so much coffee that she could feel her hair shift. “When it comes to those kids, I’m out of bread crumbs. They haven’t been able to pry anything out of the Zoric clan. The whole family lawyered up. None of them has any interest in turning State’s evidence. I think they’re more afraid of internal forces than external ones at this point.”

Lynx glanced around at Jack. When they arrived at Headquarters, his skin had been bright pink and slick with oily sweat. He had wobbled on his crutches even as he had rushed down the corridor with her scuttling behind him. There was no way in this world that Lynx could catch someone his size if he were to suddenly keel over. She had threatened that she wasn’t going to do another damned thing to help him if he didn’t lie down while she worked. Jack refused to go back to the barracks but did allow an Iniquus medic to bring over a rolling gurney and an IV. They had dimmed the lights, so Jack could get some rest. Lynx suspected the medic put something for pain and sleep into the antibiotic cocktail, because Jack’s mouth hung open and his rhythmic snores filled the room.

Mr. Spencer, one of the owners, had already sent his PA down to get a copy of Jack’s hospital release. Lynx wondered why they were here and working at midnight, and how Spencer had become aware that Jack was in the building so quickly. Neither here nor there, it wasn’t getting them any answers. She was just happy that that nurse at Suburban was willing to bend the rules to help Jack since nothing would have held him back. But now Lynx was worried about the repercussions for Jack’s well-being. Jack had been running a fever since his surgery and that could be very dangerous.

The computer dinged.

Nutsbe sat in front of the screen and rubbed his hands together, lacing them, and turning his palms inside out like a pianist, stretching his fingers, getting ready to play. “First up, Samuel Jones. He is travelling on an American passport. It was newly issued a month ago, no previous passports, no overseas travel. . . Samuel Jones is thirty-two. Self-employed, non-specified consultant. US Tax records for the last two years only. He has a Northern Virginia address. He rents. No car. A Suntrust bank account . . . seven thousand dollars in savings. Sixteen hundred in checking. Bank issued Visa – no balance. Yup, this is looking like a false identity. No fingerprints on record. You may be on to something here, Lynx.”

Lynx sent a glance back over to Jack. He hadn’t moved.

“This is his passport photo.”

“Can you put it up on the board?” When Samuel Jones’s picture showed up on the screen, Lynx walked over to stare at it. She had gone through all of the Zoric files and had committed their faces to memory, this one she didn’t recognize. “Can you put the picture through the system and see if this guy’s on anyone’s watch list?”

Lynx continued to stare at Jones’s face as Nutsbe ratatat-tatted the keys. When quiet filled the room, she turned back to him. “Do we have anyone in Brasília? A contact? Someone who could get eyes on? Actually, her end destination is Foz do Iguaçu.”

Nutsbe’s eyes widened. “No shit?”

“Why ‘no shit’?” Lynx felt the cold flush of adrenaline hit her system. The way Nutsbe had said that, it certainly didn’t bode well.

“It’s one tough region. Bad things happen down there.”

“Bad things happen everywhere,” Lynx countered.

Nutsbe slowly swung his head back and forth. “Not like this it doesn’t.”

The computer pinged, drawing their attention back to the screen.

“Here we go. . .There she is. . .”

 

Lynx roused Jack, she hated to do it, but she had sworn on all that was holy that she would wake him when they had footage at the airport.

His eyes sprang open, and he wore a sheen of guilt under the sweat. “I fell asleep,” he mumbled, the medication still working hard in his system. Jack rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’m up. I’ve got this.” His eyes were blood shot and glassy. He definitely didn’t have this.

Lynx shoved his crutches under his arms and went around back to act like a flying buttress to counter balance him as he hopped a step.

Nutsbe looked up, “Hey, man, lay your ass back down. There’s no need for you coming over here.” He pushed a button lowering one of the screens.

Jack lay back down, and Lynx swiveled the gurney, and popped up the back rest so Jack could see clearly. A grainy CCTV image was frozen in place with Suz front and center.