Chapter Fourteen
“Your boys from Phoenix are busy,” Jason Malone said into the telephone to Anthony Delaware, launching into a brief rundown on their activities.”
As the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s San Diego office, he’d been kept in the loop from the beginning, but he hadn’t yet been able to be much help. He’d questioned everyone at the airfield where the Wright International plane was still parked and at the restaurant where they’d eaten lunch. Someone had finally remembered the van that took off with the Wright party, but no one had any information about it.
He’d put feelers out on the street, too, trying to find the identity of the kidnapper. He and Anthony Delaware had finally agreed that it was the work of a drug cartel, but pinning down the specific cartel was like chasing a butterfly. He’d had the agents in his office work their snitches, but there were still no results. People were afraid of the cartel leaders. They’d rather go to jail than face the wrath of any of them, a surefire road to death.
But the Phoenix Agency, that shadowy, mysterious agency that handled the blackest of operations and trained security for the most elite of corporate officers, had definitely been in evidence. By flashing his badge, he’d coerced the manager of the airfield into telling him about the arrival of the Gulfstream, the conversation with the pilots, and then—an event that made Malone’s blood chill—the arrival of the brand-new Black Hawk helicopter.
“Have you talked to them?” Delaware asked.
“I paid them a visit at the hotel where they’re staying, but I might as well have been talking to the wall.” He pulled out a desk drawer and braced his foot on it. “These guys are pros. All former Delta Force, SEALs, Rangers. If they weren’t intimidated by some of the people they’ve faced, nothing we say will have any effect on them.”
“Did they tell you anything at all?”
“Nope.” Malone raked his fingers through his hair. “They were very polite, told me they were in town on personal business and wouldn’t be staying long.”
“I’ll bet,” Delaware said, his voice edged with sarcasm. “Can you have someone keep an eye on them?”
“Yeah, sure, but it’s just a waste of manpower. They’re better at evasive tactics than we ever thought of being. And if they take off in their brand spankin’ new Black Hawk, it will be impossible to follow them.”
“What about having the FAA track them?” the San Antonio agent asked.
“Good luck with that. Especially if they enter Mexican airspace. And you know the Mexican government won’t even talk to us. Not to mention the political firestorm we’ll set off if we tell them we’re accusing one of their citizens—one who undoubtedly gives that government financial support—of a crime.”
“Do what you can,” Delaware sighed. “I think the best thing on your end is to keep digging to see if you can identify which cartel we’re dealing with.”
“I’ll do my best.” Malone disconnected the call, rubbed his eyes, and picked up the phone again to call his house. When his wife answered, he said, “Hi, honey. I guess you’d better not wait up for me tonight.”
“The five million in bonds will be here at nine in the morning,” Pelley told the FBI agents gathered in his office. He’d just hung up from his latest conversation with the investment banker. “I’ll be ready for the drop.” He looked at Delaware. “Do not do anything to screw it up this time. I don’t care about anything except getting those people back.”
“You know once the bonds reach them, we won’t be able to trace what happens to them. We don’t even have any way to contact these people and find out how and when they’re releasing the hostages. They’ve made damn sure we couldn’t do that.”
Pelley pushed back from the desk, rose, and went to pour himself a cup of coffee from the urn he’d had set up on his sideboard. “At this point I don’t care. I just want this over and everyone back safely.”
“And yourself out of the line of fire,” Delaware commented.
“Is that what you think?” Pelley sipped his coffee and looked at the agent over the rim. “That I just want to get the spotlight away from me?”
“I know you’re hiding something. I may not uncover it today, or even tomorrow, but just getting the hostages back won’t stop me from digging. One way or another, I’ll find out your secret. Everyone’s secret. And identify the scum who set this up with the cartel to begin with.”
“Knock yourself out.” Pelley set his cup down. “I’m going to take a shower, then sack out on the couch. You and your people can try to find out where the Wrights are, or just sit around and watch my butt while I sleep.”
“Having a private suite of offices like this is pretty plush,” Delaware commented. “I’ll bet you’d hate to give that up.”
Pelley stopped in midstride. “And why would I have to do that?”
“If it turns out you’re involved in this in any way, even if we can’t charge you with anything, I’m willing to bet Eli Wright will kick your ass out of here before you can say ‘Who, me?’”
Pelley said nothing, just gave the agent back stare for stare, then walked into the bathroom.
Mark drove the SUV right up to where the helicopter was parked, turned off the lights, and let everyone out. The distant parking-lot lights gave them enough illumination to unload everyone, slide open the door to the Black Hawk’s cabin, and get everyone in except Ed.
“I’m going to tell the night manager we’re taking the bird out for a little shakedown,” Mike said. “Ed, you start the preflight.”
“The rest of us will get our gear together,” Dan told him.
“I’ll be back in a few.” Mike climbed back into the vehicle and drove off toward the terminal building.
Kat had held her tongue as long as she could. She’d been waiting for someone to make explanations when she and Faith returned from their shopping trip, but as soon as they’d changed Dan had hustled everyone down the rear fire exit to where he’d parked the SUV. Now her curiosity was about to explode.
“Okay, someone please tell me: did those men who got off the elevator come to see you?”
The men stopped what they were doing and grinned at each other.
“Yeah, you could say so,” Troy said at last.
She looked at each of them, finding them in the dark of the interior. “Well?” she said at last. “Isn’t anyone going to tell us who they were? What they wanted.”
Dan chuckled. “Nothing we haven’t endured before. The local FBI office sticking its nose in our business.”
Kat’s jaw dropped. “But how did they even know we were all here?”
“My guess is the agent in charge of the San Antonio office is hip deep in this and contacted the San Diego office to follow up here.”
“We’ve had some contact with Anthony Delaware,” Mark reminded her. “He’s shutting us out, but I guarantee you he wants to know what we’re planning to do. I think these locals thought they could throw their badges around and get some information from us.”
Now it was Faith’s turn to laugh. “They sure don’t know you very well, do they?”
“No. Not even a little.”
“So how did you leave it with them?” Kat persisted. She was terrified someone would do something to screw this up.
“Very politely,” Dan answered. “And when we left the hotel, I made sure they didn’t have eyes on us.”
Kat knew to keep quiet after that as the men began their preparations. Mike returned, parking the SUV close to the nearby hangar, and climbed into the cockpit with Ed. Everyone went about their work silently. She watched as they shrugged into vests made of black webbing and canvas straps, with loops and holders that they started filling with items she couldn’t begin to recognize. The only things familiar to her were the grenades.
Dan happened to look up at that moment, and she knew he saw the unasked question in her eyes.
“Just in case,” he told her. “We like to be prepared for everything and anything.”
They polished wicked-looking knives and slid them into sheaths strapped to their thighs. Formidable guns were wiped down and checked, and clicks echoed in the cabin as magazines were slid into place, with extras shoved into appropriate spaces on their vests. From a canvas duffel bag, Troy removed strange-looking, masklike items.
“Night-vision goggles,” he told Kat when he saw her watching him. “Gives us the edge no matter how dark it is.”
None of the other items they handed around were familiar to her, either. Then Mark touched her arm and Faith’s and motioned for them to push themselves a little away from the others.
He pulled a handgun from the canvas bag and handed it to Faith, explaining to Kat it was a Ruger. Not that she had all that much knowledge about different manufacturers. Faith took the gun from Mark, and Kat noticed she’d handled it with confidence.
“Faith’s shot this one a number of times,” Mark explained, “so she’ll be comfortable with it.”
“Mark made me practice with this one at the range,” she told Kat. “He insisted I get my license to carry concealed.” She winked. “I discovered I really enjoyed it.”
He pulled a clip from the grip, checked it, and slammed it back into place. “Okay. It’s fully loaded and ready to shoot.”
Did they expect her to handle a gun, too?
“Nothing to it,” Mark said, reading her expression. He took a familiar-looking handgun from another bag and held it out for her to see. “I know this has to be familiar to you from television if nothing else. It’s the all-purpose, easily recognized Smith & Wesson .38. It’s called a ‘wheel gun,’ because instead of a clip, like semiautomatics, the chambers for the bullets are in a round setup like a wheel. Like this.” He flipped open the “wheel,” showed her how the bullets were loaded into each chamber, shut the gun, and handed it to her, grip first.
She took the gun gingerly but with determination, setting her grip the way Mark showed her.
“Ever fire one before?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I have read firearms manuals for a research project I did, but I’ve never actually fired a gun.”
“Nothing to it. Hold it like this.” He moved her fingers again to the correct grip, holding the gun with her right hand and bracing that hand with her left. “This is just a precaution. You probably won’t have to use it at all. If there’s trouble, Ed will just lift off. But in case something happens, all you have to do is point and shoot. The gun will do the rest, I promise.”
She swallowed. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. And aim for the crotch. The gun kicks upward, so you’ll be sure to get him in the chest or even the head.” He smiled at her again. “I have faith in you, Kat. You look like someone who could do whatever she had to.”
She nodded. “If it means saving my sister, you bet.”
“All right, ladies,” Mark said. “I need to get the rest of our stuff ready. Remember. Fingers off the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot.
In another few minutes Mike turned his head and told them liftoff would be in sixty seconds. The engines began to whine, then the rotors overhead turned, slapping at the air in a movement much smoother than Kat would have expected. They lifted off the ground, slid sideways in the air, and headed out into the night sky.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning her back against the wall of the cabin. As the men continued with their preparations, she felt Faith’s hand slide into hers and squeeze it gently.
“Everything will be fine,” she mouthed, words drowned out by the noise.
Kat dredged up a smile and nodded. And began to pray.
Javier’s disposable phone rang as he left the city limits of Los Angeles. Without even looking he knew who it would be, and his stomach twisted into a knot. He didn’t want to have this conversation.
He flipped open the phone. “Si.”
“Any activity?” Nando asked.
Javier swallowed twice. “I have had to leave the terminal. The manager sent me on an errand.”
The silence at the other end of the connection was more ominous than any screaming and yelling would have been.
“You left,” Nando said finally, his words uninflected.
“I couldn’t help it,” he cried. “I tried to get out of it, but he insisted.”
“And where did he send you, pendejo?”
Javier swallowed again. “To Los Angeles. To pick up a part.”
More deafening silence.
“Call me the instant you return to the airfield, and let me know if either Phoenix aircraft is missing. El Jefe will not be pleased by this.”
“Tell him . . . tell him . . .”Javier stammered around for the right words, not finding any. He knew he was in deep shit.
“I’ll tell him that if this falls apart he can lay the blame on you.”
And just like that, the call was over.
If Javier felt sick on the remainder of the drive to the airfield, he felt worse when he arrived and discovered that the shiny new Black Hawk was nowhere to be seen.
They were all linked to a comm system, allowing them to talk to one another if necessary. The men were doing last minute checks on their gear when Ed turned slightly in his seat and held up five fingers.
“Got it,” Dan said and spoke into his throat mic. “Five minutes to insertion, guys. Get it ready.”
The men each acknowledged the message and began preparation. Kat noticed they moved like a well-oiled machine, probably from years of practice together. They slipped on their NVGs and crouched by the open door. Dan double-checked the knots in the rappelling rope fastened to rings bolted to the floor, and they all pulled on padded gloves.
Mike had explained to Kat that what they would be doing was called fast-roping, sliding down the rope to the drop point, which was much faster than any other method. The key word here was speed.
Dan watched Kat trying to emulate Faith, who was sitting next to her, not saying a word, projecting an air of calm. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
Then they were over the insertion point, and Ed took them in as low as he could. One by one, the men fast-roped down to the ground, signaling safe landing to those above before pulling their guns to the ready position. Immediately they crouched low in the tall waving stalks of marijuana, heads swiveling right and left as they headed in the direction of the hut.
They moved along slowly but steadily, stopping now and then to check for any movement around them. Eventually they came to the copse of trees they’d seen in the aerial shots, and finally, there was the hut. It was just as Kat had described it, mud-colored adobe surrounded by dirt and scraggly trees.
Dan was in the lead, using hand signals to guide the others. He moved slowly to the edge of the clearing, eyes looking in all direction. The absence of any guards was the first thing he noticed. Rick moved up next to him, looked around, and then looked at Dan, shrugging his shoulders. He, too, wondered at the situation.
Dan and Mike moved around to the front from one side, Rick and Troy from the other, Mark covering them from the rear. Reaching the front first, Dan put his hands on the bar holding the door closed. The others covered him, ready for a maneuver they’d done far too many times.
Dan counted down with his fingers. Three, two, one.
He slammed the bar back, yanked open the door . . . and stopped. The others nearly ran into him before they could stop their forward motion. Five stunned pairs of eyes studied every inch of the room.
It was empty.
Faith was still sitting in the same position, head leaning back, eyes closed, when she heard Mark’s voice in her head. Desiree
You there, babe?
She was instantly alert. Yes. Is everyone all right?
We’re fine, but we’ve got a little problem.
Oh no! What is it? What kind of problem? Is someone hurt? Did you run into guards?
None of that. Faith, the hostages aren’t here. They’ve been moved.
Faith tried not to show any reaction, with Kat sitting so close to her.
Any idea where they’ve gone?
No. Not a sniff. We’ll talk about it when we get back to the helicopter. Tell Ed we’re on our way.
Okay.
Rising carefully, Faith moved up to the cockpit and tapped Ed on the shoulder. He nodded and leaned his head closer to her. She put her lips right up against his ear.
“They’re on the way back. Empty-handed. The hostages have been moved.”
She was glad Ed showed no reaction, knowing Kat’s eyes were glued to the two of them. He nodded and made some adjustments to his instruments.
“What is it?” Kat asked as soon as Faith was beside her again. “Did Mark send you a telepathic message?”
“Yes, he did.” She took one of Kat’s hands in both of hers. “There’s no way to say this except straight out. The hostages are gone. The hut is empty.”
For a moment she thought Kat would pass out, but the woman took a deep breath and somehow steadied herself.
“Was there any sign of where they were taken?”
Faith shook her head. “No, honey, there isn’t. That’s all I know. The guys will be back soon, and they can fill you in.” She squeezed Kat’s hands. “It’s going to be okay, Kat. I promise you. Whatever happens, the guys will find the Wrights and your sister and get them out in one piece.”
But she could see the doubt and fear battling in Kat’s eyes.
With the hostages gone and no guards visible, Ed hovered the helicopter just low enough for the men to scramble in. Mike was first through the door. He tossed his gear to the side and was beside Kat in seconds. Not caring who saw them, he pulled her to him and hugged her to his chest.
“It’s okay, kitten,” he said in her ear, taking the gun from her hands and stashing it in one of his vest pockets. “We’ll find them, and we’ll get them out.”
“What was at the hut?” she still couldn’t believe, after the clarity of her images, that no one was there.
“You could tell people had been staying there. Marks on the dirt floor, evidence the bathroom had been used.”
“They did have a bathroom?” She didn’t know why that was so important to her.
“Very crude but usable.”
Kat barely noticed when Rick slammed the open door of the cabin closed and Ed lifted off, climbing away from the marijuana fields. All she could focus on was the disappearance of her sister and the Wrights.
“Did you . . . Did they . . . Was there . . .” She stopped, took in a deep breath, and let it out. “Okay. I’m all right. I just need to know if you could tell by looking if . . .”
“There was very little trace of blood,” he assured her. “In one of the photos Eli looked like he’d been hit in the nose, so a nosebleed would account for what we found.”
“Weren’t there any guards or anything?”
“No. The place was completely deserted.” He kissed her forehead. “I promise you, whatever it takes, we’ll find them again and get them out safely.”
“Why do you think they moved them?” she asked.
Mark had divested himself of his gear and was crouched down beside them now. “Something may have gone wrong with the ransom drop. I just don’t trust those people not to screw things up.”
“I say call Anthony Delaware, just tell him Katherine’s beside herself with worry, and what can he tell us? Don’t let him on to anything we’re doing.”
“And feel him out to see if they’ve got a lead on the kidnappers.” Dan had moved over to sit with them. “If they do, they may have done something stupid that triggered this.”
“The feds are reluctant to go into Mexico,” Mark reminded him.
“Yeah, but they could still have tried to pull something.”
“Here’s another question,” Troy put in. “Did anyone see somebody hanging around the airfield who could have been from their San Diego office?”
“No,” Mike answered. “I checked very carefully when I filed our flight plan and drove back to where we had the bird sitting. You know me. Recon’s my middle name. If there had been anyone there out of sync, I’d have seen it.”
“So what the hell happened to make the hostages disappear?”
“You don’t think they’ve killed them do?” Kat had been almost afraid to ask the question.
“No.” Mike tightened his hold on her. “I think whatever’s going on is still happening, and the hostages are still a valuable commodity.”
“I say let’s call the feds in the morning,” Dan suggested. “Not tonight. It’s way too late. We’ll look too panicked, and they’ll wonder what prompted the call. But tomorrow morning, first thing, let’s get this guy on the horn.”
Rip had snuck off to the bathroom again and called the other two men. One answered immediately. The other he had to wait and call back, knowing the vibrating of the phone had alerted him and he’d need time to get to someplace private.
“This damn thing better be over tomorrow when the ransom’s handed over,” one of them said. It was obvious his nerves were frayed, and Rip just hoped like hell he didn’t come unglued at the wrong time.
“Don’t worry,” he assured them. “The feds just screwed up somehow, and these guys are playing with our heads. Tomorrow will be it.”
“I just hope to hell you’re right.”
“It’s almost over,” Rip assured them. “We all just need to hang tight. The feds have no idea who’s behind this, who’s getting the ransom, or who set the Wrights up. Let’s keep it that way.”
There was a little more grumbling before they all hung up. Rip just hoped what he said was true, and tomorrow this would all be behind them.
Kat was exhausted emotionally and mentally by the time they returned to the hotel. Dan had called ahead with reservations for those who had flown in with Ed, and they all parted in the lobby.
“Eight o’clock in your suite,” Dan told Mike. “Order breakfast.”
Mike nodded and guided Kat into the elevator, then half carried her to their suite. As soon as they were inside, he swept her up in his arms, took her into the bedroom, and set her on her feet. He made a quick detour to turn on the shower. Then with unbearable tenderness, he began to peel away her clothing.
She felt as if she were crumbling from the inside out.
“I don’t know how much longer I can stand this,” she told him, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the threatening tears.
“As long as you need to.” He brushed his lips against hers. “You’re a strong woman, Kat. Mari needs you to be strong just a little while longer.”
“W-what if she’s already dead?” She threw her arms around him and pressed herself against him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He unwound her arms long enough to strip his clothes away. “If they were dead, we’d definitely have heard from the FBI. They might not like us, but they have an obligation to inform you. So let’s don’t even go there yet. Come on.” He lifted her again. “A hot shower will wash away some of that tension. Then I vote for the brandy in the minibar.”
The hot water spraying down on her began to ease her nerves, but not nearly as much as the movement of Mike’s hands over her body. He poured shower gel into his palms, worked it into a lather, and began at her shoulders with sweeping strokes. His fingers kneaded the tense muscles along her spine, massaged her buttocks, then continued the massage down the outsides of her thighs and calves.
“See how good this is?” he murmured. “You were wound tighter than a rubber band. You know what happens when rubber stretches too far, don’t you? It breaks. I don’t want you to break, Kat. Mari needs you.” His strong hands moved to massage her neck. “I need you.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “I need you, too, Mike.”
“Well, then. See how nicely that works out?” He nipped at the lobe of one ear. “Turn,” he said in a soft voice, his hands urging her to lean against the tiled shower wall.
When she’d done so, he turned his attention to the front of her body. His touch was like liquid magic, plucking at her nerve endings, waking up every pulse and ratcheting up its beat. He circled her breasts, and she felt the ice inside her body begin to melt. His fingers lightly pinched her nipples, sending threads of heat unraveling through her veins. Then he moved to the curls covering her mound, rubbing the lather into them with slow, circular strokes before moving his fingers through the outer lips of her cunt. Her legs began to wobble, and she grabbed his shoulders for support.
The hard ropes of muscles beneath his skin flexed as he moved his arms, and the thick mat of hair on his chest tickled and teased at her suddenly diamond-hard nipples. His soap-slicked fingers rubbed her clit, brushing back and forth, just enough to arouse her but not enough to give her relief. Sensation built on sensation beneath his touch, and the tightly coiled spring of need deep inside her began to unwind.
She dug her fingers into his granite arms as shudders raced through her, shaking her like a leaf tossed into the wind. One hand trailed back down to the hard bundle of nerves between her thighs, his fingers slick with the soap as he rubbed and tugged at it, lighting fires she didn’t even realize had been dormant.
“Please,” she begged.
“Please what?” he whispered, sliding three fingers into her waiting body. “Please make you come?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching, reaching, reaching for the top of that sensuous peak.
“Go with it, kitten,” he whispered, continuing his strokes between her thighs. “Let it happen. Now.”
He backed her against the tile wall, clamped his mouth to hers, and pinched her clit, tumbling her into the abyss. The orgasm rolled over her as she clung to him to anchor herself, trembling and shaking. When the last tiny little spasm had subsided, she dropped her head to his shoulder, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart.
He unhooked the manual showerhead and rinsed her off completely, then turned it on himself.
She was as limp as a dishrag, barely able to stay upright as he dried her off with a fluffy towel, then carried her to the bed and placed her on the soft, almost silken sheets. But she wasn’t going to let him get away without satisfaction himself. Sated as she was, the sight of his erection was enough to again set up the drumbeat in her pulse and the snapping tingle in her nerves.
Opening her legs wide, she tugged at him until he tumbled into the cradle of her thighs. Threading her fingers through his damp hair, she pulled his head down to hers, pressing a warm kiss to his sensuous mouth. His tongue licked the edges of her lips, then traced the closed seam before slipping gently inside.
The kiss grew in intensity, his tongue like a hot flame licking every surface of her welcoming cavern, until he suddenly jerked his head back.
“Kat,” he began, “you’re in no shape—”
“I’m in great shape,” she protested. “You made sure of that. This is what I need. What we both need. Please, Mike. Let me lose myself in you.”
His dark eyes locked with hers, studying them, reading them. Then, apparently reassured by what he saw, he kissed her with so much emotion she felt tears threatening again. The crisp hairs on his chest felt so good as they brushed against the sensitive skin of her breasts and her nipples. The heat of his body infused itself into hers, and the need drove through her once more.
Reaching into the nightstand drawer, he pulled out a condom, ripped it open with his teeth and rising above her, sheathed himself with one movement.
When he entered her, she felt a sense of completion like nothing she’d ever felt before. She felt as if they were joined together to become one person, and she knew that whatever had been in the past, her future was inextricably bound to this man.
His strokes were deep and sure, his hips rolling as he drove into her again and again. The tight need inside her rapidly uncoiled, spinning through her with the force of a whirlwind. Harder, deeper he pushed, until they were both teetering on the brink of an eruption.
This orgasm was more like an unfolding than an explosion, and it went on and on and on, lifting her to a higher and higher plane. When she came down, it was more of a soft landing than a crash. She lifted her face for Mike’s kiss, his lips like raw silk against hers, his tongue a whisper of a caress inside her mouth.
“I love you, Kat,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her.
“I love you, too.”
When he’d disposed of the condom, he climbed back into bed and spooned her against him. She nestled her head against his arm and fell asleep, knowing whatever the next day would bring, she could face it with this man next to her.
As the sun rose, chasing away the darkness of the night, Anthony Delaware touched base with his agents at other locations. No one had anything to report. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Here he was, trying to manage a ransom drop and a hostage retrieval, and he didn’t even know who he was dealing with.
What if Pelley was manufacturing the whole thing? What if none of this was real, just a way for him to sneak fifteen million dollars out of Wright International and split it with the people in Mexico? But the next moment he realized that couldn’t be true. Besides, if there hadn’t been a kidnapping, the Wrights and Mari Culhane would have shown up someplace by now and blown the whole thing. Anyway, he’d seen the photos of the hostages, and they were anything but fakes.
So how did he get a handle on this?
He still wasn’t letting Pelley off the hook. Or the other two men, as a matter of fact. Someone had made the contact with the kidnappers. Someone had fed them information. If he could just pinpoint which of the three men receiving the emails it was, he’d wring the hostage location out of him if he had to break every bone in the man’s body. Forget about following the manual. Four people could die if he couldn’t figure this out.
He felt as if he’d been living in this office for a year. He’d finally borrowed Pelley’s executive bathroom, showered, and changed into the clothes he’d had someone from the office drop off. He felt marginally better. A gallon of coffee would help even more.
He was also sure that someone from the Phoenix Agency would call him this morning. If he didn’t have answers for them, they’d simply tell him politely—or not so politely—to kiss their ass and go off and do their own thing. He had no doubt that with their contacts and unshackled by the restraints of political pressure and government rules, they’d find out who was behind this and rescue the hostages, and he and his men would all be called to Washington to have their asses handed to them.
Well, shit.
When he walked back into Pelley’s office, he saw that the big coffee urn from the employee cafeteria was bubbling away on the sideboard, and plates of pastries had been set out. Pelley was waiting for him impatiently.
“I got another call,” he blurted out. “And another email. While you were showering. They want the ransom drop at ten thirty today.”
Delaware poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped it while he kicked his brain into gear. “Will you have the bonds by then?”
“Yes. I was very specific that I had to have them by nine o’clock.”
“What else did the email say?”
“That the moment they have the bonds in hand, they will take the hostages someplace we can pick them up and release them.”
“That’s taking a big risk,” Delaware pointed out. “We don’t even know who the hell we’re dealing with here or where they’re keeping the hostages. We’re totally at their mercy.”
“Do we have a choice?” Pelley asked.
“Okay.” He pulled out his cell phone. “We’re down to the wire here. I’m calling my agents babysitting Post and Prescott and having them brought here.”
“Here?” Pelley looked startled. “Why? What can they do here?”
“They can wait with us until we get word. No more of this three separate emails. Because if we don’t hear from the kidnappers within a reasonable time after they get the bonds, I’m going to start squeezing all of you until the blood flows.”
“Hey.” Pelley threw up his hands. “Wait a minute. I hope you’re not saying what I think you are.”
“I’m saying we’ll do whatever it takes. Because if we don’t do it, Phoenix will, and you sure won’t like the fallout from that.”
“I want to do this,” Kat said, stirring sweetener into her coffee. She usually drank it black, but this morning she wanted the extra surge of energy.
“Are you sure you aren’t pushing yourself too hard?” The concern in Mike’s voice was obvious.
“I promise you.” She looked around the table. “All of you. You have no idea what it’s like, not having Brent Fontaine hanging over me. He interfered with my energy and weakened my gift. But now I’m stronger than ever. I know I can do this.”
“We don’t have any more information than we did last night,” Mark reminded her.
“It doesn’t matter.” She tried to find the words to convince them. “I just feel it. Inside. Here.” She tapped her chest with a fist. “I’m being pulled to do this. I’m telling you, all of you. We have to set up so I can do this.”
They’d discussed it back and forth over breakfast, realizing their leads were down to none, even though they were pushing Andy to keep digging for more information and working their contacts via cell phone. And Kat knew by the look on everyone’s faces that the thing they didn’t want to tell her was time was getting short. They had no idea where the feds stood with the ransom, and Dan was leery of calling Anthony Delaware.
“I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with him,” he explained. “They don’t want us near this, despite the fact that Mari is one of the hostages. Something is very off about this, and I think that’s why they’re shutting us out.”
“All the more reason for me to do this,” Kat had pleaded. “I have a funny feeling that Mari and the Wrights are still someplace on Herrera’s estancia. They wouldn’t risk moving them too far away.”
“Kat, if you can give us an idea of where that would be, I can get Andy to steal some satellite time,” Dan said, then turned to Mike. “This time he’ll need to steal it from a better satellite, one where he can zoom in. One that has capabilities of using infrared heat signatures to see if there are actually people there.”
“Damn it.” Mike smacked his hand on the table. “We should have had him do that to begin with.”
“We had no reason to expect the hostages weren’t there.”
“Because you depended too much on me,” Kat apologized. “I’m very, very sorry. I did tell you from the beginning remote viewing is only eighty to ninety percent accurate. But this is the strongest I’ve felt about this since we started. And the best images I’d gotten.”
Mike gently brushed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “It’s all right, kitten. We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
“I know I told you my powers had been . . . compromised,” she fretted. “Except now the situation was fixed, I thought . . . Anyway, I know I can do this. Please.”
“All right, then.” Dan pushed back from the table. “Let’s get to it.”
With the dishes cleared away, they again darkened the room and left only the only lamp lit. Kat asked for a glass of water, and Mike placed one close to her right hand but far enough away so she wouldn’t spill it.
Dan handed her the photos, and she arranged them in front of her, along with a pad of paper on which to draw. Then she closed her eyes and let her mind reach out. Again, somewhat blurred, she saw the stretch of the marijuana field, the glimpses of trees. Then it disappeared to be replaced by a thick copse of trees. The trees wavered, like aspen limbs in a wind. Kat blinked, and there it was: the freeze frame. Just as clear as if she were viewing it through the lens of a camera. A hut similar to the one she’d seen before, surrounded on all sides by trees. No marijuana fields here. A window high on one wall. And two guards, leaning casually against the wall on either side of a wooden door, guns cradled loosely in their hands.
Kat drew as fast as she could, not concerned with the neatness of her sketch, only with accuracy and trying to get as many details down before the images faded away.
Not yet, not yet, she shouted inside her brain, as the image began to waver and fade.
Then it was gone, and she leaned back in the chair, exhilarated at what she’d seen. Rick pulled the drapes open, and she blinked against the blaze of sunlight. Sipping the ice water, she tried to gather her thoughts to explain what she’d seen.
“If you sit back down at the table,” she told the others, “it will be easier for you to see this and for me to explain what I’ve drawn.”
She took them through it, pulling out as many details as she could, answering their questions to the best of her ability.
“Will you have to wait until tonight to go in for them?” Kat asked, trying to hold back her anxiety.
“It would be the optimum thing to do,” Mike answered, “but we may be running out of time here.”
“Now that we’ve got something to go on,” Mark said, “wouldn’t this be a good time to call Delaware and rattle his cage? See what’s happening on their end?”
“I agree,” Dan said. “Why don’t you do that while I call Andy and order him to use every trick he can to steal the satellite images we want. This time we’ll make sure there are people inside.”
Shit! Hell and damnation!
Anthony Delaware closed his cell phone with a vicious snap and shoved it in his pocket. He’d known Phoenix wouldn‘t leave him alone indefinitely. Not with their connection to one of the hostages. The call wasn’t what bothered him. It was Mark Halloran’s reaction to the news they were getting ready to pay the ransom.
No further questions. Nothing about the release of the hostages. None of the usual questions he’d ask in their situation. That meant only one thing. They’d learned who the kidnapper was, where he was keeping the hostages, and they were mounting their own rescue mission.
He’d told his boss this was likely to happen. Nothing he said would keep them out of this, arresting them would only create a huge clusterfuck, and he knew in his bones by the time he got through he and the entire FBI would look like incompetent asses. His only piece of good luck was the fact that these guys didn’t want publicity—didn’t like it and didn’t seek it. So whatever went down would remain hidden as much as possible.
That still didn’t solve his immediate problems. Where the hell were the hostages, who had kidnapped them, and what assurance did they have of getting them back? And finally, best of all, which one of the three jackasses sitting at the table in Pelley’s conference room was the poison in the pie?
“All right, everyone.” He took his seat at the head of the table. “I think we’re about to make a huge mistake, but we don’t appear to have a choice.”
“I want to know why you’ve had me dragged here,” Rand Prescott demanded. “It’s bad enough I’ve had one of your agents breathing down my neck for three days. Now I’m forcibly dragged from my hotel suite and told I have to stay for . . . well, no one said for how long. I know we have a crisis situation here, but I still have businesses to run.”
“I’m sure you do,” the agent told him. “But I’d like to think Eli Wright’s life and that of his family and Miss Culhane takes a little precedence.”
“Bag it, Prescott.” Ryan Post’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “None of us has a choice here, and you know it.”
Since he’d arrived with his escort, Delaware had watched him downing coffee liberally laced with aged brandy from Ron Pelley’s well-stocked bar.
“I want to know who that was on the phone,” Pelley demanded.
“No one you need to be concerned with.” Delaware was damned if he’d give the information about the conversation to these people. Things were bad enough as it was. He looked at his watch. “It’s almost time to leave. I think we can safely assume these people will use the same process they did yesterday.”
“How are we supposed to follow a motorcycle?” one of the agents wanted to know.
“We’re going to try air surveillance,” he answered. “I called my boss, and he pulled some strings to make this happen. With all the military around here, no one’s going to think twice about their helicopters flying over the city. They’ll start practice runs at ten o’clock and keep it up until we find out where the motorcycle goes. They’ll let us know, and we’ll take it from there.”
“That sounds very chancy to me,” another of the agents commented.
Delaware slammed his hand on the table, his nerves finally getting to him. “Do you have a better plan? If not, then just do what you’re told.”
Silence dropped over the room. For long moments no one spoke. Finally Ron Pelley cleared his throat.
“The additional bearer bonds should be here any minute,” he said, rising from the table. “I’ll go get the new package together.”
He headed for his office. One of the agents rose, also, and trailed behind him.
Delaware swallowed the bitter taste in his throat. No matter what he did, there was no way this could have a good outcome.
When Pedro and Enrique brought their morning ration of water and tortillas, the hostages had just risen from a fitful night of on-and-off sleep and washed themselves as best they could in the disaster of a bathroom. Mari helped Sydney clean the cut on her face. But it had become infected, and Mari was worried about what would happen with it.
Eli had developed some horrendous-looking bruises from the jabs with the butt of the rifle, and he was having trouble keeping down even the terrible tortillas. Mari hoped he didn’t have any internal damage from the beating. Her own head continued to ache, but either it was subsiding or she was just getting used to it.
And Lissa. Lord, she’d been so good, so strong. But she was only seventeen, and this situation was becoming almost more than she could cope with. It was especially difficult for her to see what was happening to her parents.
Hurry, Kat. Bring those men here quickly. I don’t know how much longer we can hold out.
“Eat up,” Pedro told them. “This may be your last meal with us.” When everyone froze in place, he laughed, the mean sound they’d grown familiar with. “You may go home today, gringos. If all goes accordingly to plan.” Then he looked from one to the other. “But we have not yet decided in what condition to return you. Your friends thought they could outsmart El Jefe yesterday. That does not mean good things for you. El Jefe is a man with a temper.”
He laughed again, then backed out with Enrique, slamming the door into place after him. The clunk of the wood across the door sounded like a death knell to the hostages.
Eli let out a slow, painful breath. “We aren’t beaten yet. We’ll find a way out of this. I promise.” He looked at the window and then at his daughter, “Come over here sweetie. I’m going to boost you up on my shoulders. I want you to tell me what you see.”
It was an excruciating exercise, with Eli stifling his groans and trying not to stagger under even the slight weight of his daughter. Mari bit her lip as she watched them.
Hurry, Kat. Hurry, hurry, hurry.