F-Stop Desiree Holt Book 4 in the Phoenix Agency series.
Kat Culhane hasn’t seen Mike D’Antoni for two years until they run into each other in Texas. Time has passed but the heat between them hasn’t diminished. Hello leads to lunch, lunch leads to dinner, and dinner leads to bed…and the most erotic sex they’ve ever had. When Kat’s sister disappears, along with her boss and his family, Mike and the Phoenix Agency roll into action, with Kat’s remote viewing abilities playing a key role in the search. At night she loses herself in Mike’s arms as his hands and mouth soothe and seduce her. In addition to finding her sister, it’s obvious to Kat and Mike that this time around, they also have to find a way to hang on to each other.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
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F-Stop ISBN 9781419934278 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED F-Stop Copyright © 2011 Desiree Holt Edited by Helen Woodall Cover art by Syneca Electronic book publication September 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
F-STOP Desiree Holt
Dedication To my very own personal hero, who dared me to be myself and who lives on in all my heroes. And to Marilyn Campbell, without whom none of The Phoenix Agency books would have been written. You rock!
Acknowledgments Much of the information in this book was derived from the Controlled Remote Viewing Manual by Paul H. Smith, (Major, Ret.) and the Firedocs Web Site. Congressional Research Service Report to Congress on Drug Cartels Mark LaRue, LaRue Tactical The Declassified Defense Intelligence Agency Remote Viewing Manual
Author Note “I see the scenes like pictures taken with an imperfect camera, where parts of the images are missing. I adjust my mental f/stop, letting in a little more light, then a little more until the picture is clear and I can focus…focus…focus. Then a shutter in my brain goes click! And I see it. The image I’m reaching for.” Katherine Culhane, explaining remote viewing to Mike D’Antoni, of the Phoenix Agency.
Desiree Holt
Chapter One The conference room had been darkened as she requested, the only light coming from a small lamp on a corner table. Katherine “Kat” Culhane settled herself in the comfortable chair at the head of the table, so large it nearly swallowed her petite form but exactly what she needed to relax her body. She looked at the man seated to her left and nervously she wet her lips. “I have to tell you again, when I’m at my best my success rate hovers between eighty and ninety percent and lately my…gift seems to be wavering.” Joel Singer put his hand over hers. “I understand. You made yourself very clear. But the Graumans are willing to take this chance. They don’t know what else to do.” Katherine had been very reluctant when he’d called three days ago, introducing himself as a private investigator and asking for her help with a case. Her remote viewing powers had been wavering for the past couple of months, a problem that disturbed her a great deal. It was almost as if the f/stop of the camera in her brain was refusing to let in the amount of light she needed to clarify the picture she was reaching for. One of the reasons she had finally agreed to come to San Antonio was to meet with some people she believed could help her. And of course, the fact that her sister Mari lived here was a big plus. It also gave her the opportunity to leave Tampa for a couple of weeks. Put some distance between herself and a problem there she didn’t want to deal with. Sometimes she wondered how much that problem had to do with her current psychic stress, then dismissed it as rationalizing. She sighed, tucked a few strands of her thick, lustrous, streaky-blonde hair behind her ears and nodded. “I’ll do my best. You said their son had an auto accident about half an hour from here in the Hill Country. They found his car but not him?” Joel nodded. “The car was pretty racked up. The theory is he managed to get out but sustained a head injury, wandered away and lord knows where he is.” “What about dogs? Trackers? They usually do a good job in cases like this.” “The area around the crash is filled with streams. If he splashed through one of them the dogs would lose the scent.” He studied her with an intent gaze. “You really are their best hope. If you can do anything they’ll be terribly grateful.” “I’ll give it my best shot. Did you write down the coordinates where the car was found?” “Yes.” He slid an index card in front of her. “You said that was all you wanted.” She nodded. “That’s right. Now I need you to just sit quietly next to me.”
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Katherine closed her eyes and let her mind open itself, reaching for the layers that could extend beyond her immediate space. In a moment an image flickered, like an oldtime movie, black and white and fuzzy at the edges. She swallowed. “I see a piece of road. A curve. And a large tree. Wait.” She focused harder, willing the images to come to her. “More trees. And water on the road.” “Yes, that’s it.” She could tell Joel Singer was trying to keep the excitement from his voice. “It was raining that night and he lost control on a curve.” Then her mental screen went black and Katherine gritted her teeth in frustration. Exhaling a long breath, she focused again. This time the picture was a little clearer. “I see a hill past the trees. And boulders. Large ones. Wait! More water.” She pushed her mental layers as hard as she could. “A creek. And something black and white.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think it smells.” She reached for the pad of paper and pencil she’d asked him to have ready and began sketching—the curve, the tree, the hill, the blob of black and white. A stream. And then the image sharpened in her mind and froze, framed as if by a camera. “A cave,” she said. “But not really a cave. A big hole in the rock.” “That’s it.” He hitched his chair closer. “There are lots of big cave-like holes in the limestone around there. It’s easy to fall into them. Anything else?” “I don’t think it’s far from the creek. There’s a pile of boards on the ground.” Then it was gone. Katherine rubbed her face, trying to force her mind back into viewing mode, but nothing appeared on her mental screen. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That’s all I’ve got. I told you I’ve been having some problems.” “It may be enough.” He had his cell phone out and was already dialing. “I’ve had people waiting at the crash site to see if you came up with anything. Yeah, Chuck? Here’s what we’ve got.” He repeated everything Katherine had said. “I’m going to fax her sketches directly to your cell. Call me back but meantime, get moving.” “I hope that helps,” she told him. “It’s more than we’ve had up until now. Let’s wait in here until I get a call back. No sense getting the Graumans’ hopes up if it comes to nothing.” “I agree.” Katherine leaned back in the chair and sent up a silent prayer that she’d been able to help. “Would you like some coffee while we wait?” Joel asked. “I have some fresh on the sideboard.” “Yes, that would be nice. Thanks. Just black, please.” He filled two mugs, brought them back to the table and handed her one. They sat in silence, sipping, waiting for the cell phone to ring. When it did, they both jumped.
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Katherine listened to Joel’s side of the conversation and watched his face. When a smile broke out she allowed herself a full breath. “They’ve got him,” he told her, snapping the phone shut. “He’d banged his head and become disoriented, managing to get out of the car and stumble away. We were right that he’d staggered through the creek and up the hill on the other side. Then he twisted his ankle and fell into that limestone hole.” “But why didn’t the trackers find him? The dogs?” Joel chuckled. “Simple answer. He ended up disturbing the home of a skunk, which sprayed the area with his odiferous perfume, effectively killing every other scent in the area.” “How is he?” Katherine was almost afraid to ask. “Badly hurt, dehydrated and weak from blood loss but nothing that a hospital can’t fix. We got to him in time, thanks to you.” “Thank god,” she breathed. “We need to tell his parents,” Joel said. “I think they can use some good news.”
***** “Kat, that is so wonderful.” Mari Culhane hugged her sister. She’d come home from work to find Katherine stretched out on the couch, nursing a glass of white wine and looking thoroughly exhausted. It was easy to tell the women were related. Same petite figures. Same emerald eyes. Only where Kat’s hair was a naturally streaked honey-blonde, Mari’s was more of a chocolate color with golden highlights. And where Mari was exuberant, Katherine was restrained, almost rigidly self-contained. But the affection between them was obvious to anyone who looked. “Yes but it might have turned out worse.” She sipped at the wine. “I told Joel, just as I told you. My powers have been wavering lately, like a light bulb just before it goes out. What if I hadn’t been able to help? What if my gift failed me?” Mari kicked off her shoes and flopped into a chair. “But it didn’t and that’s the important thing. Anyway, didn’t you say part of the reason for this trip was to meet with some women from a group called The Lotus Circle to see if they could help you?” “Yes. And I’m grateful you let me show up on your doorstep this way.” “Oh honey, you know my door is always open.” She giggled. “Unless I have a towel on the doorknob.” When they’d shared an apartment right after college, that had been the signal that one or the other was entertaining company.
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Mari fetched a wineglass from the kitchen, poured herself a drink from the bottle in the fridge and returned to her seat. “So tell me. What is this Lotus Circle? What do they do?” “To explain that, I need to give you a short course in metaphysical history,” Kat warned. Mari propped her feet on an ottoman and leaned back, holding her wine. “Lecture away.” “Okay. Legend has it that The Lotus Circle first came together in ancient Egypt, where the lotus flower was associated with various gods, including Ra. Kadesh, the goddess of sexuality and fertility, was traditionally depicted holding lotus flowers and many believe that she was the founder of the Circle. According to the story that has been handed down over the millennia since then, The Lotus Circle consisted of women with exceptional psychic abilities. Members were telepaths, clairvoyants, healers and practitioners of various metaphysical skills, such as astrology and forecasting with tools, like cards and stones. Their gifts and talents were revered by pharaohs and slaves alike and it was their sacred oath to help anyone in need, regardless of their station in life.” “So what happened to it?” Mari asked. Kat shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “The world changed, ambitious men felt threatened by the gifted females.” “And nothing’s changed,” Mari reminded her. “Anyway, over time, the Circle was gradually wiped out until a professor, Dr. Olivia Crandall, reached out to four other women and resurrected it. Now they even have a website and people who post on it from all over the world.” “So who are you going to see here in San Antonio?” “A woman named Vivi Alderson. She’s kind of the lead person in this area and also has been very successful in helping others when their gifts began to fail.” “I think your problem is you’re just stressed out,” Mari told her. “You take too many of these cases that tap into your energy and leave nothing behind for you. I mean, it can’t be healthy for you.” “I’ll be fine.” Kat sat up, setting her glass down and rubbing her temple. “But you’re right. I may have been pushing myself too much lately.” “Brent Fontaine can’t be helping anything either.” Mari’s voice was filled with concern. “How’s that going?” “A lot better since I’m here for a while.” Kat stretched and sighed. “Some men just don’t know when to quit. Who’d ever have thought he’d turn out to be the stalker type?” “Listen, it’s none of my business, except you’re my sister, I love you and I care what happens to you. But don’t you think you should have called the police?”
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Kat raised an eyebrow. “And tell them what? That some rich, good-looking guy keeps calling me and sending me flowers?” “He’s stalking you, Kat. You said it before. You’ve got to get him to leave you alone before things get out of hand. Who has a name like Brent Fontaine, anyway? He sounds like a character from Central Casting.” “I know, I know. I was…” “Vulnerable,” Mari supplied. “Stupid,” Kat corrected her. “Anyway, being away from him for a while and not taking his calls on my cell ought to send him the message.” She hugged her sister. “And thanks for telling me I can hang out here for a while.” “Maybe if things with Mike—” “Maybe nothing,” Katherine cut her off. “Mike D’Antoni was a big, big mistake. One I’ll never make again.” She’d never discussed the disastrous ending of her relationship with the handsome Phoenix Agency partner, nor did she intend to. But it had probably been the reason she’d fallen into the situation with Brent so easily. She’d met the handsome hedge fund partner at a dinner party and his come-on was so smooth she was swept up into a whirlwind relationship with him before she even realized what was happening. It had taken far too long for her to realize everything was about Brent. Everything focused around him. He resented her friends, her work, any time not devoted to him. She woke up one day frightened to discover she’d allowed him to isolate her from everyone and everything. When she told him she thought they needed some space, things had gotten ugly. And a pattern had been set. He’d call or come by, shouting at her, demeaning her, then try to apologize with flowers and expensive gifts. The worst scene of all had been the one when she’d told him they were finished, not to get in touch with her anymore and definitely not to come by her place. She’d had to threaten to call the police to get him to leave. The visits had stopped but not the calls or the gifts, all of which she returned to his office by messenger. But worst of all, her clairvoyance began to waver and for that she resented him the most. “So when are you going to see this Vivi person?” Mari adeptly changed the subject. “I thought I’d call her tomorrow after you guys take off.” “Ah yes. Tomorrow. It isn’t every day I get a free trip to Hawaii.” She grinned. “And if it wasn’t for the fact that Eli Wright has business meetings I’d be staying in my office while he and his wife and daughter were drinking mai tais and lolling on the beach at Waikiki.” Mari had what Kat considered a dream job as executive secretary to the CEO of Wright International, a conglomerate with offices all over the world. She worked very
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hard at her job and Katherine suspected this trip was actually by way of a thank you. Eli Wright appreciated hard work and loyalty. “So what time is takeoff?” “Noon. I have to be at the private hangar at eleven.” Mari drained her glass and pushed herself out of the chair. “That means I’d better get packing.” “How about if I run out and pick up some Chinese while you’re doing that? A small thank you for letting me stay here while you’re gone.” “Kat, you know you can stay here any time you want. For as long as you want. No big deal.” An impish grin played at her lips. “But I’ll accept with gratitude.”
***** The gleaming Gulfstream G550 stood on the tarmac at the private airstrip next to a Piaggio p.t180 Avanti II. The combined cost of the two planes could easily feed any Third World country. The meeting place had been chosen for its remote location, which guaranteed privacy. The Gulfstream, the larger of the two planes, was the actual site of the gathering. Four men lounged on the butter-soft leather sofa or in one of the comfortable armchairs. Drinks had been served and the preliminaries dispensed with. Now they sat there, each waiting for one of the others to break the silence. At last a tall, muscular man with a swarthy complexion and hair just a little too long set his drink on the table beside his chair and leaned forward. His eyes were fixed on the blond man directly across from him, on the couch. “So, Gringo, do you have the information? Is everything in place?” The blond hated the derogatory nickname but as a code to hide his real identity he supposed it worked as well as any other. And eliminated the risk of anyone overhearing him being called by his real name. Two or three more weeks at the most and he’d be rid of these people anyway. All debts cancelled. Money in an offshore account. And the lifestyle he’d mortgaged his soul to get. He swallowed the last of his drink, looked at all three men and reached for his briefcase. “I have everything right here. Their complete itinerary.” He extracted three sheets of paper and handed one to each of the men, who studied it carefully. “And this is confirmed?” the swarthy man asked. “If there are any slip-ups…” “This is set in stone,” Gringo said. “And there won’t be any slip-ups. I promise you. I triple-checked myself.” “I’m sure you know it’s to your advantage to have everything go smoothly,” one of the other men said. “You don’t have to remind me.”
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The swarthy man rose, an indication the meeting was at an end. “We will contact you as soon as everything is in place. You have the secure telephone we provided you with?” Gringo nodded. “And the laptop is secure. We’re hacker proof. Not to worry. The transactions will be completely secret.” “It’s my business to worry. Otherwise I’d have no business.” He stopped directly in front of Gringo. “We cannot afford to have one thing go wrong here. You understand that.” “Hey!” Gringo rose from his seat and stood even with the other man. “I have more to lose here than you do. I’ve got everything covered.” “See that you do.” He gestured to the other two men. “Time to leave.” Gringo opened the door and lowered the stairs, watching as the men descended and headed to their plane. Checking his watch, he saw that his pilot would return in ten minutes. He’d explained to the man that he was having a very private business meeting that needed to be away from the office and out of sight of anyone’s eyes. This was not an extraordinary occurrence so it raised no flags with the pilot. He simply got into the car Gringo had arranged to have waiting and took himself off to the closest town to eat. He’d done it before and Gringo knew it would happen again. The important thing was not to do anything to make anyone suspicious. Anyone at all. Walking to the bar built into the wall, he poured himself another drink and knocked back a good inch of the liquid. He’d be damn glad when this was over and he could draw a full breath again.
***** Mike D’Antoni leaned back in his desk chair and propped his booted feet on an open desk drawer. The late afternoon sun blazing in through the floor-to-ceiling window bathed everything in a golden light. Things were quiet for the moment. Rick Latrobe was still on his honeymoon and Troy Arsenault was winding up a mission. The other two partners were at their primary homes in San Antonio, Texas. Julia, their prizewinning assistant, was gone for the day, leaving the Phoenix Agency offices all but empty. Mike liked the arrangement they had. Very few office staff. Teams either out on missions or at home for down time, awaiting the next call. With the training programs off-site and debriefings held in the hangar at their airfield, the high-octane security agency was able to keep a deliberately low profile. Currently he was on a conference call with the agency’s CEO, Dan Romeo, and one of the other partners, Mark Halloran, who lived in San Antonio. They were discussing the what if’s of a new client in the San Antonio area.
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“I know we don’t usually pull a full frontal attack like this,” Dan was saying, “but this company is huge. They have offices all over the world. I think it would be prudent for them to meet the person who can handle transport at a moment’s notice.” “I agree,” Mark said. “The only company more diversified and more spread out than Canyon Global Technologies is Wright International.” “Next on my list to contact, by the way,” Dan interjected. “So what do you say, flyboy? Everything’s under control, for the moment anyway. Come on out. Either one of us can put you up.” Mike chuckled. “Thanks for the hospitality but if it’s all the same to you, I’ll get my usual suite at the Vistana.” Dan’s laugh was even louder. “I forgot. D’Antoni the ladies’ man. Well, the bar at that hotel is fertile ground.” Even though the other men couldn’t see him, Mike clapped a hand over his heart. “You wound me, you old married men. I’m a respectable businessman.” “Monkey business,” Mark put in. “Okay, the hotel it is. When will you be here?” “Wheels up in time to get me there by noon, your time. Can you arrange for one of the company cars to be waiting for me?” “I’ll do it,” Dan assured him. “Call when you get in. I’ll be in my office here in the house.” Mike disconnected the call and sat up, reaching for his briefcase behind his chair. It was interesting, he thought, how two of his partners had found themselves living parttime in the same city in Texas. Mark’s wife, Faith, a San Antonio native, had contacted the agency when Mark’s Delta Force mission was blown and he was kidnapped by terrorists. Using their skills and the telepathic communications between Mark and Faith, Phoenix affected a successful rescue. Mark had resigned his commission shortly afterward and joined the agency. Faith was a best-selling author and their living arrangements were more flexible, so she often accompanied Mark when he had to be in their condo in Baltimore. Dan’s wife, Mia, had moved to San Antonio when her grandmother left her a beautiful old home. A medium, she “saw” events before they happened. They’d met when she helped thwart an attempted theft at Carpenter Techtronics, owned by a close friend of Dan’s, and solve two murders. She’d restructured her job as art historian for a museum and sometimes took consultations but her living arrangements weren’t quite as flexible as Faith’s, so Dan made the city his home base. Sometimes Mia traveled to Baltimore with him, sometimes not. Mike knew, however, they’d both be there for some time as soon as Rick and Kelly Latrobe returned from their honeymoon and the three women went into proactive mode to get the agency’s Psi department up and running. Sometimes the perennial bachelor wondered if he’d ever settle down and, if he did, if the woman he chose would also have a special psychic gift.
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Oh well, time to worry about that later. He had things to do and places to go if he planned to be ready to leave in the morning.
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Chapter Two Kat insisted on driving Mari to the airport, to the private terminal where the Wright International aircraft were kept. A sleek-looking Gulfstream G-5 stood on the tarmac waiting for its passengers to board while the pilot did his preflight check and took care of other last-minute business. Eli and Sydney Wright and their teenage daughter, Lissa, were already inside the small terminal building and greeted Mari warmly. Kat had seen pictures of them and always commented on what an extremely goodlooking family they were—the tall, muscular man with the wavy black hair and a dimple in his chin, the slim redhead looking up at him with affection and a younger female version with the same lustrous hair and slender build. She bet they looked good in magazine shots and newspaper publicity. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us.” Sydney enveloped Mari in a quick hug. “I told the slave driver we need some girl time while we’re there.” “Mom’s right,” Lissa added. “And where you guys go, so do I.” Kat hung back a little, pleased to see how the Wrights treated Mari as a person, not just an employee. It was obvious they considered her almost a part of the family. At forty-two Eli was a self-made billionaire who conducted business in every corner of the world. It would be so easy for him to be arrogant and superficial, for Sydney to be a bitch and for Lissa to be a spoiled brat. But as Mari had told her many times, the man was well-grounded in good values and worked to keep his family the same way. Now Mari reached out an arm and pulled Kat into the circle. “I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Katherine. Kat, these are the Wrights. The best boss and the best family in the world.” Eli’s handshake was strong and warm, Sydney and Lissa hugging her in what was obviously a natural gesture for them. “It’s nice meeting you,” she smiled at them. “Mari can’t stop raving about either her job or the Wright family. It’s nice to see her in such a good position.” “Your sister’s a real treasure,” Eli said. “This trip is a semi-reward for all her hard work.” He studied Kat. “Mari hasn’t said much about what you do. Are you in an office situation too?” “Oh,” Mari broke in, “Kat is—” “A consultant.” Kat cut her off smoothly. “I consult on various special projects.” “Oh?” Eli raised an eyebrow. “What type? I’m always looking for consultants.” “Maybe we can talk next time I’m in town,” she said smoothly. “Isn’t that your pilot beckoning to you?”
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He glanced out the window. “Sure is. Well, nice meeting you, Katherine. Ladies? Our chariot awaits.” Kat followed them outside, waiting while they boarded the plane and watching the smooth taxi and takeoff. Even though she knew they couldn’t see her any longer, she continued to wave until the plane was just a speck in the sky. “Well,” a deep male voice said behind her. “This is probably the last place I expected to run into you.” Kat turned and came face-to-face with Mike D’Antoni, her stomach doing a flip-flop at the sight of the tall, dark aviator with the bedroom eyes. For a long moment, shock paralyzed her. At first Mike thought he was seeing things. Surely there were dozens of petite, blondes with sun-streaked hair in the world. Who also had the same habit of tilting their head to one side. It couldn’t be her, right here in the private hangar section of the airport. What would she be doing here anyway? He stared through the glass of the door, his brain bouncing in his head. Then she turned around and every nerve and muscle in his body froze. If anything, Katherine Culhane was sexier, more appealing, than the last time he’d seen her two years ago. Of course the last time he’d seen her she’d been a raging maniac, throwing everything she could get her hands on at him and screaming curse words that would make a sailor blush. The fact that she’d been absolutely right to react the way she did hadn’t made the episode any easier to take. Back then the Phoenix Agency had been just the four of them—Dan Romeo whose idea it was, Troy Arsenault, Rick Latrobe and himself. They hadn’t even had an office, just a phone number with an answering machine. They flew low under the radar, taking missions that no one else would touch and excelling at it. Phoenix was a high-risk international security company, for all intents and purposes. They didn’t advertise. They had no website. Contracts were by referral only. Then Rick’s little brother Joey had been shot in a blown mission assignment, Joey’s team leader Mark Halloran had been captured by a terrorist group and Faith Wilding, now wed to Mark, was at her wits’ end trying to find someone to rescue him. The rescue mission was exactly the kind of thing Phoenix was originally created for—an assignment that politics blocked government agencies from attempting. He’d been with Kat the night he’d gotten the call to plan the mission. He’d been unable to give her an explanation, just…left. After the harrowing rescue in Peru something else had come up, then something else again. He’d made one stupid attempt to see her, giving no thought to what her reaction might be, and didn’t realize until she’d shut the door on him what a mess he’d made of things. How important she really was to him.
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Now, two years later, Phoenix had offices, a woman who juggled everything without a drop of sweat, an international reputation and more contracts than they could handle. But three of the partners were also now married, a signal that as they’d expanded the agency and taken on more agents, each of them could find a way to have a private life. Maybe it was time for him to think of the same thing. The thought didn’t scare him the way it used to. His problem would be convincing the woman he was sure was the one that he was different, that he could be trusted. He still got the same punch to the gut when he looked at Kat. The breeze lifted the strands of hair, fanning them around her face. He knew the green of her short sleeve sweater would match exactly the color of her eyes and when she smiled—if she smiled—her entire face would light up. Black slacks clung to rounded hips that his hands still itched to touch, the memory of her silken skin still imprinted on his brain. For a moment he was tempted to walk through the other door, climb into the SUV waiting for him and forget he’d even see her. Not a day had passed since the last time he’d seen her that he hadn’t wished he could take everything back. That he’d made the time to see her between assignments, explain to her as best he could. Dan and Mark had both managed to handle it and now so had Rick. But he’d been scared of commitment. He’d run from what she represented—giving up his footloose life for one woman—so he’d done what he had to. Stayed away from her. And cursed himself every day for what he’d thrown away. He’d probably be smart to get the hell away from her now but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they carried him to the runway-side door and his hands automatically pushed it open. And then he was talking to her, the last thing he’d ever expected to do again. From her reaction, she hadn’t planned on it either. Her face paled under its Florida tan, her eyes widened and although her mouth moved, no words came out. “Yeah,” he managed. “Shocked me too. How are you, Kat?” She swallowed twice and finally managed a response. “I’m fine.” Her voice, though trembling slightly, could have chipped ice. “I trust you’re the same?” “Taking a plane somewhere?” “Just seeing off my sister, her boss and his family.” “Oh.” Silence. “She lives here in San Antonio and works for Eli Wright.” That was interesting. “CEO of Wright International?” Kat nodded. “Executive secretary. He’s taking her with his family on a combined business-vacation trip to Hawaii.” “Very nice. So…you were visiting her?” “Yes. So what are you doing here?” 17
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“Business meeting with two of my partners. I just got in.” More silence. Then they both spoke at the same time. “Listen, Kat—” “Mike, I’m not—” He smiled. “Ladies first.” “No, you go ahead.” Now her eyes were flashing. She’d gotten her equilibrium back, hidden behind an invisible wall. “I’d really be interested in what you have to say.” He studied her carefully, seeing the same fiery woman who nearly set him ablaze in bed. A woman he’d treated very, very badly. A woman he still wanted more than his next breath.
***** Two years earlier The food was delicious but enduring the meal was pure agony. Watching Kat put each bite of food into her mouth, chew it slowly and lick those sensuous lips drove him out of his mind. When her small pink tongue caught stray crumbs on the fork he thought his cock would burst from his slacks. He’d never met another woman who could turn a meal into a sexual experience. All through dinner he kept picturing her naked, her round breasts with their duskyrose nipples just begging for his hands to hold them, his mouth to suck them. The image of her spread out on the bed, legs wide, her pussy glistening and tempting him made his cock harden enough that he was glad the tablecloth concealed his crotch. It seemed no matter how often or how many times they made love he couldn’t get enough of her. Now the fantasy had become a reality again and he was forcing himself to exercise control so the show wasn’t over in five minutes. They’d gotten naked five minutes after reaching Kat’s place but now Mike was forcing himself to slow down, to give her as much pleasure as he could. He kissed the side of her neck, the hollow at her throat, licked the tender spot behind her ear. He inhaled her taste, pulling it deep inside him. Jasmine and the hint of summer. His tongue traced the outline of her mouth, the seam, touched the corners before traveling the delicate line of her jaw. Then back to her lips, urging her to open for him. He pressed the length of her body against his as his tongue plundered her mouth, sweeping everywhere, tasting her delicious flesh. While he ate at her mouth his hands stroked her body, loving the silken feel of her skin, the dips and swells as he touched her everywhere. When one hand reached to cup a breast, his thumb rasping a taut nipple, she moaned into his mouth and pushed herself harder against him. 18
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God, she was so fucking responsive. If it was possible he would have stayed in bed like this with her forever. He took his time with her, kneading each breast, finally leaving her mouth so he could put his lips to her nipples, sucking and pulling them one at a time until her tiny series of moans became one long one. His balls ached and his cock was demanding attention but he pushed away the demands of his own body to satisfy Kat’s. That was always a priority for him. When her nipples were hard and swollen he moved his lips down her body, licking the valley between her breasts, his hands holding her hips as the tip of his tongue traced the indentation of her navel. He urged her thighs wider apart with his shoulders and, spreading her labia with his thumbs, took a long, slow lick of her wet slit. God, she tasted so damn good! Better than fine wine or aged brandy or anything else he could think of. He could lap up her cream forever. Kat moved restlessly beneath him, her fingers fisting in his hair, the same little delicious sounds rolling from her throat like an erotic piece of music. Her clit was a nub of flesh that thrummed as he sucked it into his mouth, his teeth just nipping the very tip. “Please,” she cried. “Oh please, Mike.” He knew what she wanted and he gave it to her, sliding two fingers into the simmering channel of her vagina, curling them to scrape lightly over that fiery sweet spot. While he worked his fingers in and out of her he continued to suck and bite her clit, drawing on the hot button until her hips thrust at him and the moans became one long plea. When he withdrew his fingers she pushed herself at him, silent indication that she didn’t want him to stop. But he nipped the inside of one thigh and slid his drenched fingers along the sensitive skin to her puckered anus, rimming the opening with a teasing touch. The tempo of her breathing changed, quickened as he moved his finger round and round. And when he pushed it just inside, past the tight ring of muscle, she bent her legs, pressed her feet flat on the bed and tried to impale herself on him. The first time he’d taken her there it had stunned and thrilled him to learn how responsive she was to anal penetration. She’d been hesitant that first time but then couldn’t seem to get enough. She was always teasing him with a glimpse of her naked ass, heat flashing in her eyes. But tonight he wanted her pussy, wanted that hot sheath clasped around his cock, her liquid bathing him. He moved away from her only long enough to grab a condom and roll it on before placing the head of his cock at her opening. Taking a deep breath, he drove into her hard with one fast stroke. “God yes,” she cried, lifting her legs to wrap around him. “More. Deeper.”
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He moved slowly, dragging his shaft in and out of that slick tunnel, watching the flush on her face darken with lust. “Do it, Mike,” she begged. “Now. Please.” He was at the end of his control. She always did that to him, frayed the last edges until he couldn’t drag it out any longer. Dragging in a breath again, he quickened his pace, pounding into her, feeling her feet dig into the small of his back as she lifted to meet his strokes. When he felt the spasms begin in the walls of her cunt he let himself go, taking them over the edge together. Shouting her name as he came. Afterward he held her close to him, inhaling her scent, loving the feel of her body as it molded to his. She gave him a feeling of contentment that he’d never found before. Anywhere. With anyone. He just hoped he didn’t screw it up.
***** Mike exhaled slowly, chasing away the dream, and mentally crossed his fingers. Hoping some of the same memories still danced around in Kat’s mind, enough so they could take a step forward. That she’d be willing to give him a chance again. “I don‘t suppose you’d be willing to have lunch with me? I owe you an explanation and an apology and I’d rather not deliver them standing in the middle of the airport.” She started to refuse him. “I really don’t think—” “Please? Just lunch. Then if you’re still mad, which you have every right to be, you can dump my drink on my head and walk out.” He watched her trying not to laugh. “All right,” she said at last. “Just lunch. I am curious to hear what you have to say. I have my car here so I’ll meet you. Just tell me where.” He named an upscale restaurant she was very familiar with. It was a place where people went to have quiet conversations. “Good choice. Okay. I’m on my way.” Mike followed her through the small terminal building and out to the parking lot, watching the sway of her hips and the bounce of her sun-streaked hair. All the memories came flooding back, including his recollection of what a jackass he’d been. Better not blow it this time, buddy boy.
***** The sleek Gulfstream G-5 touched down smoothly at the airport in San Diego and taxied to the small private terminal. Eli unbuckled his seat belt and stood up, stretching out the kinks.
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“We’ll grab some lunch while the pilot refuels and gets his own grub,” he announced. “Mari, we have a favorite restaurant near the waterfront we like to eat in. Is Italian okay with you?” “Mr. Wright, anything is fine,” she grinned. “I’m just so excited and pleased to be included in this trip.” He laughed. “You’ll earn your keep before it’s over,” he warned as he ushered the women down the foldout stairs. Mari stopped at the bottom of the steps, adjusting to the scene. The sun was so bright it reflected off the tarmac and the paint of the two silver SUVs waiting for them. Texas was hot but this was a moist heat and already she felt the natural thickening of the air. A young man in polo shirt and jeans waited beside the lead vehicle. He was a lean six feet and she guessed his age at no more than twenty-two or three. The chocolate brown of his shirt was almost the same color as his hair. His tan bespoke hours in the sun and the corded muscles visible on his bare arms were an indication that this wasn’t someone who sat on his ass all day. Not long out of college, he was already making himself valuable at the company’s small San Diego office. Getting to drive the big boss around was an obvious perk for him. “Thanks, Len.” Eli took the keys and they shook hands. “Delivering cars for the boss isn’t really part of your job description. Especially on your day off. Mr. Lombard tells me you volunteered for the job.” He turned back to the women. “Lissa, you remember Len Randolph, right? He drove us around last time we were here.” Mari saw the good-looking young man flush, carefully keeping his eyes averted from seventeen-year-old Lissa Wright, who was trying to look anywhere but at Len. Aha! Romance blooms! “No problem, sir. Any time. You just let Mr. Lombard know whatever you need when you’re in town and I’m your man.” Harry Lombard ran the small San Diego office of the corporation. Eli Wright chuckled, obviously aware of the byplay going on between his daughter and the nervous young man. “I plan to chat with him as soon as we finish lunch, so I’ll keep that in mind. Too bad he couldn’t join us. How about you? Got time to have lunch with us?” Len nearly strangled on his tongue, trying to be cool about his acceptance. “Um, yes, thank you, sir. If it’s all right. I mean…” Eli swallowed a grin and handed the keys back. “How about if you play chauffeur? That way you’ll feel like you’re earning your keep.” He nodded to the second vehicle in line, the security team from the San Diego office that Kat always provided for him. Eli never moved without protection. Too much risk in these turbulent times. Len climbed in behind the steering wheel of their vehicle, Eli riding shotgun and the women in the spacious backseat.
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“You know where Il Maggiore is?” Eli asked. “Yes sir.” “That’s where we’re heading. Hope you like Italian.” “Yes sir,” Len repeated, cranking over the ignition and pulling smoothly away from the plane.
***** The four men in the extended black panel van had decided to call themselves Juan, Manuel, Pedro and Carlos, Hispanic names that were so common most people paid little attention to them. Nothing that would stand out later and identify them. They watched as the people in the first silver SUV exited the vehicle, handing it over to valet parking and entering the restaurant beneath a bright red canopy, laughing and joking. “They won’t be laughing much longer,” Carlos smirked. “Just keep your mind on business,” Pedro told him. “We can’t afford any slip-ups here. I for one do not wish to bring the wrath of El Jefe down on my head.” “You don’t have to worry about me,” Carlos snapped back. “I know what to do.” “Everyone just shut up,” Juan told them. He sat in the front passenger seat, binoculars adjusted to his eyes as he looked through the tinted glass of the window. “And pay attention, especially to the men in the second vehicle. We’ll have one chance to do this, so don’t screw it up.” Manuel, the driver, had cracked the window on his side barely an inch, just enough to let in some fresh air. Although the temperature was cooler than it had been earlier in the week, the van was still stifling. Sitting there for more than an hour with the engine running, however, would have called attention to them. And that was something they could ill afford. So they sat, watching as people exited the restaurant, baking in the sun, as the minutes crawled by like snails, checking and coordinating their watches every five minutes. When the front door to the restaurant swung open yet again, this time to allow their targets to exit, Manuel picked up the small radio on the seat beside him and spoke a few words into the mic. Then he turned on the engine, backed up and casually eased the van to the curb at the opposite sidewalk. They watched the younger man hand a ticket to the valet attendant and all five people gathered in a tight group to wait for their vehicle. By a stroke of circumstance, no one else emerged with them, leaving the Wright group of people the only ones on the sidewalk. The security vehicle pulled up right behind them, idling at the curb. As soon as the Wrights moved off, the security team following, the black van fell into line behind them, a tan sedan bringing up the rear. They stayed in a line like that, allowing other cars to fall in between them but always with their targets in sight, until they turned off onto the long empty road leading to the airstrip. 22
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Juan, in the front passenger seat, picked up the radio and said, “Get ready.” The men in the van pulled hooded masks over their heads and pulled around in front of the Wrights’ vehicle, forcing it to a stop. The security team stopped behind them, the men jumping out, guns ready. Pedro aimed quickly and with four quick shots both men were dead on the ground. He and the others raced from the van, jerking open the doors of the backup SUV and tossing the bodies inside. Manuel swept up Mari and Sydney while another man grabbed Lissa, pressing pieces of cloth to their heads, then carrying them to the van and tossing them inside. “What the hell is going on?” Eli demanded, watching one of the men club Len on the side of the head. “If you want to keep the women alive, get in the van and don’t make a sound,” Juan commanded. “Jesus,” Eli swore. “You killed those two men.” “And if you want to avoid the same fate, do as I said,” Juan told him, pressing the gun harder into his flesh. At that moment the cries from the women suddenly stopped and Wright tensed. “What did you do to them?” he demanded as he was propelled forward. “Nothing. Just helped them take a little nap. Get in.” He gave Eli a shove and the man fell into the interior of the van. Pedro and Carlos, now driving the two SUVs, hugged Manuel’s bumper. “Be sure you gave them enough to keep them unconscious,” he warned, turning again onto the road that paralleled the waterfront. “Don’t give the men a chance to do anything.” “Our pilots will be looking for us,” Eli warned them, hoping to give himself an edge. “Your pilots are resting comfortably far away from the airport,” the man said, grinning. “And how convenient that they left a message to have your plane tied down while you took a little side trip.” Eli gritted his teeth and thought, Hell. No one will even be looking for us. Not right away. That was his last thought as a soaked cloth was pressed firmly against his nose. By the time they’d turned around and headed in another direction, then turned onto a road equally as desolate as the one they’d left, all five prisoners were out cold. Or appeared to be. Eli had managed to hold his breath enough to receive a smaller dose of whatever they were using, forcing himself to maintain some level of consciousness without letting his captors know. On a deserted road they stopped briefly to shove Len out, then a mile or so later left the two SUVs and the bodies of the guards. As the drivers walked back to the van, one of them pushed a button on a remote and both vehicles exploded in a cloud of fire and twisted steel.
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Work done, the two men climbed back into the van and roared off again in yet another direction. “How long until we reach the airstrip?” Pedro asked. “Half an hour. I’ll tell you again, make sure you gave them enough to keep them out until we get them on the plane. I don’t need trouble. We have to take off on time, while our pet air traffic controller is in place.” “No problem.”
***** Mike D’Antoni was already at the restaurant when Kat arrived. For a moment she thought about leaving, forgetting about lunch with this man who played havoc with her emotions. But the hostess was already leading the way to a table in the far corner of the dining room and the time for running was past. Mike rose and held out her chair. “Still the gentleman,” she commented, then couldn’t resist adding, “at least in some areas.” The waiter appeared instantly and hovered until they gave him their drink orders and left menus for them to study. When their drinks arrived, Mike closed his menu, set it on the table and waited until Kat had lifted her glass. “To a fresh start,” he said, raising his glass to her. She hesitated then set her glass back down without drinking from it. “I’m not sure that’s in the cards for us, Mike. Lunch, okay. Starting over? I think history’s against us.” He leaned forward, making the space between them more intimate. “There’s no way I blame you for your attitude, Kat. I was the consummate asshole and I freely admit it. I did everything wrong.” “It’s not that I don’t…didn’t understand about your work. You explained to me as much as you could. I could even handle you getting called out without notice and not knowing exactly when you’d be back. We’d been through it many times in the two years we were together.” That didn’t mean it was easy for me, Michael. That I didn’t worry and wonder. But I’m a big girl and I knew what the situation was from the beginning. But this time when you left it was different. “But?” Kat drew circles on the table with her fingertip, her eyes not meeting his. Images of them together flashed through her brain like a DVD on fast forward. Dredging up whatever control she could, she pushed them out of her consciousness. Remembering him naked wasn’t going to help her today. “But I thought we had something special going.” She kept tracing circles with her finger, still focusing her eyes on the linen tablecloth. “Then you left in the middle of the
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night and didn’t even call me. Not even a text message. Okay. I got it. But I was sure when you got back from whatever hellhole you were in you’d take one minute to call me.” “I didn’t—” he began. Kat held up her hand. “But then…then…you came back and what did you do?” She was desperately trying to hold onto her cool, not let the steadily building anger take over. “You sent me an email, for god’s sake. An email, telling me you were sorry about the way you ran out but life was very complicated for you right then. Like I couldn’t understand if you told me? Explained to me? I knew what you did was not for public discussion but you could have given me some kind of explanation, you know.” “Kat, listen—” “I’m not through yet.” She curled the hand in her lap into a fist. “A month later, about the time I’m finally beginning to put you out of my mind, you show up at my door expecting me to take you in for the weekend. Like okay, I got mad, so let’s get past it and have some fun.” He laughed but it was edged with bitterness. “You certainly didn’t hold back making your feelings clear that night.” The hurt she’d felt at the time came surging back. “Just what did you expect?” she bit off. “I don’t know,” he said in a quiet voice. “But I like to think I’m different now from that guy you threw out of your place. That I look at life a little differently.” “Differently?” Her stomach knotted. “Exactly what does that mean?” He twisted his lips. “That I try very hard not to be such an asshole anymore.” He covered her hand with his, refusing to let her pull it away, his touch like a spike of electricity firing through her. He looked as if he was having trouble finding the right words. As if he was coming to some kind of momentous decision. “Damn it, Kat, it wasn’t just the agency that got in the way. I was scared. I’ve never let a woman get as close to me as you did. Getting…attached to someone was way in the future. I just…” He shook his head. “Just couldn’t handle commitment and what goes with it,” she finished for him. “But I know that men in your line of work have families. Don’t tell me none of your partners are married because I won’t believe you.” She watched his eyes slide away, avoiding the answer. “Listen, Mike. If we aren’t honest with each other about everything there’s no new start in the cards. Ever.” She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. “And I’m not telling you there is one. I’m just saying. You know?” “Okay. Three of my partners are married. Very happily, as a matter of fact. One of them just recently.” “So it’s not an impossible situation.” “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.” 25
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Kat didn’t know whether to be pleased at the admission or not. He certainly didn’t act as if he was ready to take the plunge. Of any kind. So what did he mean by a new start? She was having enough trouble keeping her hormones under control. Just the sight of the lean, dark-haired, dark-eyed hunk of masculinity was stirring up feelings she’d done her best to keep buried. “I know you invented the words ‘playing the field’ and ‘unattached’ but…” “Let’s just cut to the chase, okay?” He owed her an explanation, one he’d avoided for a long time and he needed to own up to what he’d done. At the time he hadn’t expected it to bother him but Katherine Culhane was different from every other woman he’d ever been with. “Mike…” She tried to pull her hand away again but he tightened his hold on it. “I screwed up,” he told her in a voice that was almost pleading. “There isn’t a day since then that I haven’t regretted it. Not one minute. The instant I saw you today I knew what a fool I’d been.” He raised his eyes and looked at her, an anguished expression on his face. “But what if I’m not good at it? At relationships? I don’t mind disappointing the bimbos, Kat, but I couldn’t handle it if I couldn‘t be what you want.” “Damn it, Mike.” She yanked her hand free. She couldn’t think clearly when he touched her. “You don’t even know what I want.” “Then why don’t you tell me?” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She wasn’t ready for this. Not now. She was still trying to adjust to even seeing him again. And she had other problems to resolve. “Let me ask you something.” She deliberately switched topics. He took a long swallow of his drink. “Anything.” “Did your reluctance to…pursue something permanent have anything to do with, how shall I say it, my so-called gift?” A strange expression flitted across his face. “Funny you should ask that. Two years ago I might have been a little squeamish about it. The paranormal wasn’t exactly in my field of vision. But now…” “Now what?” she prodded. What had happened to make him change his outlook? She lifted her wineglass with both hands and took a steadying drink. “Three of my partners are married and all of their wives have some kind of psychic gift. In fact, Mark never would have been rescued without Faith’s telepathy and a vital piece of top secret equipment would have fallen into enemy hands without Mia’s visions. Rick’s wife even has a psychic dog, if you can believe that.” Kat laughed, as much at the look on Mike’s face as at the realization that he’d had to come to terms with something he didn’t believe in. “You forget. Nothing’s too absurd for me.” “All right, you want honest, here’s honest.” He leaned forward again, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t even know if we can go anywhere with this but like I said, 26
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the minute I saw you again I knew I wanted to try. Can we at least test the waters? I promise not to leave you hanging again. To tell you what I’m doing if I can.” His mouth turned up in a rueful grin. “And not to be an asshole. I hope.” She felt something inside her that had been wound so tight begin to loosen. It bothered her that she was ready to give in so easily. Especially with everything going on in her life. Oh no. I can’t do this again. But he looked so appealing, so earnest. And this time there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. The distant look was gone, replaced by heat and desire. And need. Strange, because Mike D’Antoni had never needed anyone or anything. “Maybe…” She let her voice trail off. No, no maybes. Tell him, Katherine. Tell him you can’t do this again. But then his words overrode her thoughts. “Maybe’s a good start. A very good start. Let’s order, okay? The food here is excellent.” As relaxed as Mike seemed while they ate, Kat was equally as tense, on edge, waiting for the next verbal axe to fall. She had to make him understand that they couldn’t just go back and start over. “Mike, listen,” she began, but her words seemed to fly over his head. He just winked at her then glanced at his watch. “Look. I have a meeting this afternoon with two of my partners and a potential new client.” “Go ahead,” Kat said. “I have something I have to do today too. Thanks again for lunch.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, just a minute here. You aren’t getting away that easily. How about dinner tonight? There’s a great new restaurant on the Riverwalk. Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll pick you up at seven. If that’s all right,” he added. “This great new restaurant wouldn’t happen to be at your hotel, would it?” She said it only half-jokingly but she wouldn’t put anything past him. And she definitely wasn’t ready for that yet. Mike grinned at her. “That would be just a little too obvious, even for me. No, I’m going to be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.” Kat sighed. “Okay. I’m probably making the biggest mistake of my life but I’ll have dinner with you.” She pulled a small notepad from her purse, wrote Mari’s address on it and her cell number. “Do you need directions?” Mike folded the paper and stuck it into his pocket. “Nope. I know the area.” “Call me on my cell if anything happens to change your plans.” “Trust me,” he told her, signaling for the waiter. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
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Chapter Three Eli Wright’s head throbbed and his throat burned but he forced himself to lie quietly as he tried to assess the situation. His hands and feet were bound with what appeared to be duct tape and he was folded up in a cramped position. Sydney, Lissa and Mari were lying next to him, still out cold and in equally uncomfortable positions. And no one had taken note of the fact that he was actually awake. As long as he could fool them he could try to make some sense out of what was happening. Try to remember landmarks or anything else that would be helpful. They were in the same van riding along yet another bumpy road. He ran his gaze over the women as best he could from his twisted position, satisfying himself that they had no visible bruises or wounds and they were at least still breathing. The next thought that slammed into him was the two dead security guards and poor Len, an earnest young man, dumped out like so much garbage. He had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting. He couldn’t see where they were because there were no windows in the back. The men in the front seats were speaking low, in Spanish. He strained to hear their words, adept enough in the language to understand, if only he could make out the words. What the hell was going on here? And who were these men who had grabbed them so easily? Who knew just where to do this? Getting the information to plan this wouldn‘t necessarily have been hard for these men. He flew to San Diego a lot and it was common knowledge Il Maggiore was a favorite restaurant. Everyone from the mailroom clerk to his executive vice president had that information. The question was, who would pass the specifics of this trip along to these people and why. A man of his enormous wealth was a hot target. But Eli had come from nothing, building Wright International from a tiny one-man operation to the vast global empire it was one step at a time. A combination of brains and luck had helped him reach where he was today but despite the upscale home he lived in and the lifestyle he and his family led, he still couldn’t see himself as anyone but plain old Eli Wright. That was obviously a major error in judgment. As he was trying to make sense of it all, the van came to a stop. Seconds later the side door slid open and two men appeared. “Time to change transportation, señor,” the taller one said, hauling Eli roughly out of the van and setting him on his feet. “My family,” he started to say.
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“All of you will be coming with us.” He peeked into the interior of the van. “It is good the women still sleep. Easier to transport.” “You didn’t have to kill the young man who was with us.” He could barely control his anger. The man gripping his arm chuckled, an unpleasant sound. “Not to worry. He’s just finishing his nap at the side of the road. It is hoped that by now someone has stopped to help him.” “You didn’t—” “Kill him? No, señor. That wasn’t part of our orders.” “Who is giving you these orders?” Eli wanted to know. “That’s not information you need to have. Shut up or I’ll have to hurt one of the women.” Eli ground his teeth together. If it had just been him he’d have pushed but he had to make sure everyone else was unharmed to the best of his ability. He blinked his eyes at the sudden assault of bright sunlight. They were at some kind of landing strip, out in the middle of nowhere. A large private jet whose configuration was unfamiliar to him sat on the tarmac near a single hangar. Squinting his eyes, he could make out the logo on the side—Mazatlan Textiles, with a swoop under the words in the design of a serape. He’d never heard of the company and he thought he knew every company of any size in Central and South America. He felt a knife slash the tape binding his ankles but before he could take a step a hand gripped his upper arm roughly. “You are out here in where no one can find you, señor,” a heavy voice said. “No one here will pay any attention to you. I am going to walk you to that plane. At the first sign of foolishness on your part, we will kill one of the females. This is no idle threat, believe me.” Eli glanced to his right and saw his wife, his daughter and Mari being carried to the plane. It was obvious they were still unconscious. “They’d better wake up,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Trust me, señor,” the man said, with a vicious chuckle, “they are no good to us dead. For the moment. So behave yourself. I’d hate to sacrifice one of them.” “Someone will spot this plane,” Eli pointed out as he was hustled up the foldout stairway. “This plane?” The man snorted. “We fly this route all the time. Everyone knows Mazatlan Textiles. Come on. We have no time to waste.” In what seemed like seconds Eli and the women were buckled into seats, Eli’s feet taped together again and the stairway lifted up. The engines whined as they roared to full power and they taxied down the runway. Eli could only pray that someone, somewhere, would find out what was happening and where they were being taken.
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***** “Vivi, I can’t thank you enough.” Kat finished the last sip of the delicious herbal tea Vivi Alderson had served her, feeling relaxed for the first time in days. “No problem, my dear.” Vivi smiled at her. “We all go through this in some form or other more often than you might realize.” “I had no idea what was happening to me,” she sighed. “Sometimes I think this socalled gift is more of a curse than a blessing.” “Don’t even think that.” Vivi’s voice was firm. “You’ve done so much good. Helped so many people. The mind is like any other part of the body. Sometimes it just needs a rest when it’s not working so well.” Kat laughed. “I should tell that to the people who think I’m out of my mind.” She set the cup down in the saucer. “I’m going to start using the new meditation techniques you showed me today. Also focusing on just one or two methods of remote viewing until the clairvoyant sense is strengthened again.” She had listened carefully to everything Vivi had told her, which answered most of her questions. What she didn’t want to tell her—didn’t want to admit to herself—was the possibility that the situation with Brent had triggered the psychic weakness. If that was the case, she hoped the meditation exercises she’d been given would help cleanse her mind and get her back on track. If it meant staying in San Antonio longer—putting distance between herself and Brent—that’s what she’d do. “Good girl. You know my niece also has a psychic gift.” Kat raised an eyebrow. “Your niece? Do I know her? Or of her?” Vivi lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Her name is Faith Halloran but you might recognize her as Faith Wilding.” “The author?” Kat asked? “I absolutely love her books.” “One and the same.” Vivi picked up the empty cups and carried them to the sink. “If you have time while you’re here, I’d really like you to meet her. She’s a terrific person.” Vivi chuckled. “Of course, I’m the tiniest bit prejudiced.” Kat frowned. “Halloran. I happen to know a man who’s partners in an agency with a man named Halloran. Mark Halloran. He lives here in San Antonio. Are they related?” Vivi’s laugh was a tinkling sound in the air. “Talk about life’s coincidences. Mark is Faith’s husband. Which one of the partners is your friend?” Katherine didn’t know whether to be excited or worried. She didn’t want to get wrapped up too tightly in something that involved Mike until she knew where they were heading again. “Friend may not be the operative term. I know Mike D’Antoni.” “Ah yes. The flyboy.” Vivi grinned. “He’s a killer with the ladies.” Then she looked at Kat with startled eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Are you and Mike…?”
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“Don’t worry.” Kat shook her head. “I had my go-round with Mike.” “I understand he’s in town on some business. Faith just happened to mention it in passing when we spoke this morning.” She studied Kat’s face, a knowing look in her eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that.” “We ran into each other quite accidentally and had lunch.” She gave a selfdeprecating laugh. “I’m having dinner with him. More of his boyish charm. But he’s got a lot of fences to mend to get more than a dinner companion out of me.” “Good.” Vivi clapped her hands. “I’d love to see a smart woman take him down a peg or two. Not that it’s any of my business.” Kat rose and impulsively hugged the woman. “I have no secrets. By the way, I’m going to be here for two or three more days and I’d love a chance to meet Faith.” “Give me your cell number and I’ll be sure she calls you. I think you two would enjoy each other. And Katherine?” “Yes?” “Please call me whenever you need to. Don’t feel you have to lick this problem by yourself.” Katherine blinked back tears as the women hugged again. One part of her life was looking up, anyway. She didn’t think her situation with Mike would be resolved that easily.
***** Brett Fontaine snapped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. Damn! Damn! Damn! He was getting sick and tired of listening to Katherine’s voice mail. Just when he was sure he was wearing her down, she’d slipped out of town and he had no idea where to find her. He’d thought things were going so well with them and then bang! Goodbye, Brent. It’s been fun. Send me a Christmas card. Katherine Culhane was the most interesting woman he’d ever met. And she couldn‘t deny the sex between them had been great. Outstanding, even. Although he’d always had the nagging feeling she was holding some part of herself back. But he was sure he’d have plenty of time to wear her down. Women had never been a challenge to him. He knew he was easy on the eyes and, thanks to a fat trust fund and a thriving family business, had more money than he could ever spend. Katherine had been a challenge, not falling into his arms the way most women did. But she’d been worth the effort. More than worth it. This was the first time a woman had broken off a relationship with him. He was always the one who walked. Somehow he’d find her and make her see reason.
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Understand that they belonged together. Nobody ever walked away from Brent Fontaine.
***** Mike watched the woman across the table from him. The flame from the candle on the table picked up the highlights of her streaked blonde hair and caught the emerald of her eyes. Dinner had been comfortable between them, the conversation easy. He’d done his best not to push anything. He was just trying to read her reactions and figure out where he had to go next. Now they lingered over after-dinner drinks as he tried to stretch the evening out as long as he could. How had he managed to screw up so badly with her? How had he not known from the beginning that she was different from all his other women? That she wasn’t another of what his partners called “Mike’s playthings”? Now he knew he had an uphill battle to win back her trust. But he wasn’t planning to give up. Seeing her again had shocked his system, made him realize just what he’d lost. And what he wanted back. Permanently, if he could ever get that far. “Do I have a smudge on my face?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts. “What?” He mentally shook himself. “No. Not at all. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking what an extraordinarily beautiful woman you are. And interesting. And what an ass I was to behave the way I did two years ago.” Kat laughed. “If that’s a new line, I give it three stars. Needs a little more work.” “No line, Kat. Just the plain truth.” He fiddled with his drink. “Cards on the table, two years ago I didn’t want to be with you. Scratch that. I was scared to be with you, Kat. No one had ever gotten under my skin the way you did. Made me feel things so deeply. I was frightened of that kind of commitment.” He leaned forward. “I can’t believe how stupid I was or what I lost because of it.” She fiddled with her wineglass. “And now?” “Now I’m more afraid of losing you than anything else. That would be a disaster. I want us to be together. I want to be with you.” He studied her face, wondering what she was thinking. “I know I’ve got a long way to go with you but I’m a patient, dedicated person. And this time if I have to go away you’ll know everything I can tell you. And every possible chance I’ll phone or email.” When she smiled at him he felt such relief it weakened him. “I think we’re both a little older and a lot wiser. I wouldn’t be here tonight if I didn’t want us to have another chance.” He made a show of wiping his forehead. “Whew! Glad we got that out of the way.” But then he noticed that a fine tension still ran through her body. She’d been restless since he picked her up, doing her best to conceal it. He watched her pull her cell
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phone from her small purse again, something she’d been doing all through dinner, open it, scroll through the messages and frown. “Problem?” he asked. “Probably not.” The muscles in her face tightened as she stared at the screen on the phone, then manipulated the keys with her fingers. She’s erasing something. But he didn’t say it. If she had something to tell him, she’d do it in her own good time. Prying wasn’t the way to win her back. He’d have to give her the right opportunity to tell him on her own. She put the phone back in her purse. “I’m just a worrier, I guess. But Mari said they’d call when they got to Waikiki and she’s usually very good about it.” Mike looked at his watch. “It’s ten thirty here, which would make it only six thirty there. They’re probably still adjusting to the time change and getting themselves settled. Give her time. She’ll call.” “I guess you’re right.” She pulled out the phone again. “And I’m sure I’d have heard if something happened, right? But I think I’ll give her a try, anyway. It’ll make me feel better.” Mike watched while she speed dialed a number, listened, then frowned. “Listen, kiddo, it’s me, the mother hen. Call me when you get this message so I don’t pull out my hair. Love ya. Do a hula for me.” Mike watched her replace the phone, a tiny vertical line between her eyebrows. “No answer?” Kat shook her head. “You’re probably right. She’s in the middle of a million things and doesn’t even have her phone on. She’ll call later.” “But you’re still worried.” She forced a smile. “Big sisters always worry. It’s just that she’s always so good about calling me…” She ran her fingers through her hair, then brushed it away from her face. “Oh well. I’ll probably hear from her in a little while. Like you say, they’re probably caught up in a million things right now.” Mike took a long sip of his wine, unwilling to end the evening yet not sure how to prolong it. “By the way.” She leaned back in her chair. “I almost forgot to mention this. I met a woman this afternoon you may know. Or know of.” “Oh?” Mike lifted one eyebrow. “Who would that be?” “Vivi Alderson. You mentioned her niece, Faith, at lunch today.” Mike grinned. “We all know Aunt Vivi. She’s a terrific woman and has been a big help to us in certain instances.” “I told her I’d love to be able to meet Faith while I’m here.”
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“How about if I ask her and Mark to join us for breakfast tomorrow? Would that work? Assuming you agree to have breakfast with me?” “Breakfast?” She chewed her bottom lip. “Okay. That would be nice.” Startled, he leaned across the table, reached out a hand and said in the most guileless voice he could manage, “Should I pick you up or just wake you?” I’m going to make a huge mistake right this minute. But the plain truth is, the chemistry is still there. And something beneath it that I don’t want to acknowledge again. Yet. Kat drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think maybe you could just nudge me when it’s time for morning coffee.” Heat flared in his eyes and his hand closed convulsively on his glass. “I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind.” He waved for the waiter and in short order the tab was paid and they were out of the restaurant. The guy at valet parking seemed to take forever to bring his car around and he was sure they hit every traffic light as they drove to her sister’s apartment. They were barely inside the door when he pulled her into his arms, his mouth devouring hers. His lips were firm against hers, his tongue a sweep of flame. She was already melting inside. His mouth fused to hers, he gripped her head, tilting it this way and that to give himself a better angle. She could feel the hardness of his cock even through both layers of clothing like a steel baton branding her. When he pulled his head back they were both gasping for air. Mike kept his fingers threaded through her hair, holding her in place, while he fought to control his breathing. Kat reached for the wall switch beside her shoulder and the two lamps in the living room came on. She stared at Mike. His eyes were focused on hers like twin lasers, as dark now as the rich color of melting chocolate. “No,” he said unevenly. “Not this way. After all this time I’m not going to take you up against the wall like some horny teenager or some guy just out for a good time. I want to make this right, Kat. And I’m going to.” He lifted her into his arms. “Which way?” She directed him to the guest bedroom, where he set her on her feet and turned on the bedside lamp. His gaze traveled over her from head to toe. “Before anything else, I want a good look at you.” He undressed her with great care, kissing each place on her body as he peeled her clothing away. Her neck and shoulders, as he slid her silk blouse down her arms. Her upper arms and the inside of each elbow as he worked the fabric down her skin. The upper swell of her breasts. By the time he undid the clasp of her bra, tossed it away and swiped his tongue quickly across each nipple she was already quivering with need. When he lifted her breasts in his warm palms and sucked each nipple in turn, the jolt of
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sensation speared directly to her cunt where her folds were already drenched with her cream. The softness of his thick black hair brushed against her and his very masculine, very clean scent that called up images of the ocean and soft breezes, making her think of the night they’d made delicious love on the beach. His teeth grazed first one nipple then the other, turning her body so liquid Kat had to clutch at his hard shoulders to hold herself steady. She inhaled his scent, trying to drag it inside herself. The familiar blend of soap that smelled like rain and aftershave that had a hint of earthiness. He was the most masculine male she’d ever met and she wanted to wrap that aura around herself like a permanent blanket. Her breasts were heavy and aching, her nipples bursting with need by the time he leaned down to undo the button and zipper on her slacks. Very slowly, like opening the gift wrapping on a package, he eased them down her legs along with her panties. His hands were gentle as he helped her lift first one leg then the other to step of out them as well as her shoes. Kneeling in front of her, he used his fingers and his lips to follow a path up first one leg then the other, his tongue drawing little circles on the inside of each thigh. Just soft, featherlight touches that made the pulse in her womb beat harder and faster. Kat wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there this way, her legs barely holding her and her body trembling all over. When he drew his fingertips through her wet slit she almost collapsed on top of him, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders. He teased her with ghostlike caresses, his mouth brushing kisses over the crease where each hip and thigh joined. Every single nerve in her body was firing, dancing beneath the surface of her skin. Each pulse point thumped insistently, echoing the ramped-up beat of her heart. His fingers were doing a sensual dance on every inch of her pussy except where she really wanted them. There. Right there. When he finally licked across the throbbing tip of her clit she almost came just from that brief touch. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, placing his lips over it and sucking it into his mouth. The desire inside her was so strong she could feel the edge of her climax closing in on her. She wanted Mike inside her. Wanted to feel his thick penis filling her. But he seemed determined to do this his way. He sucked and nipped at the hot nub until she was pleading with him, riding a hard edge of need. When he slid two fingers inside her she almost sobbed a welcome at the intrusion and moved her hips to ride them. He knew what he was doing, curling his fingers just so, stroking in and out just that way that he had. Not hard. Slow and steady, until she thought she’d lose her mind if he didn’t let her come soon. Then, as if sensing the degree of her need, he moved his fingers faster, sucked harder, and the orgasm streaked through her, shaking her entire body. Mike slid one
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hand around to cup her ass and hold her in place while he continued to work his fingers in and out of her until the last little quiver subsided. Only then did he rise, lift her and place her on the bed, pausing only to pull the covers back. Kat lay there limp yet still unsatisfied and watched him strip off his clothes with expert efficiency. God, his body was still as magnificent as she remembered, the olive skin tanned from missions that took him to hot spots all over the earth, the dark curls of hair covering his chest. Broad shoulders, lean hips. And a cock so thick and magnificent that her mouth watered. She reached out a hand to him and he obligingly moved next to the bed. Turning on her side, she took his shaft in one hand and slid the other between his thighs to cup the heavy sac of his balls. She swiped her tongue across the velvet softness of the head before opening her mouth and taking him deep inside. She felt the tightening of his muscles, heard the sharp intake of breath as the head of his shaft hit the back of her mouth. Teasingly she scraped her teeth lightly over the soft skin covering the hard steel and drew another response from him. When she moved her mouth up and down on him he rocked his hips slightly, riding her lips, his hands fisted in her hair. Suddenly he pulled himself from her and pushed her onto her back again. “Enough,” he panted. “I want inside you. Now.” Quickly opening the condom he’d retrieved from his pants and rolling it on, he moved up onto the bed between her thighs. Lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders, he parted the lips of her cunt and stared for a long moment at her opening before driving into her with one possessive thrust. He filled her, stretched her, the sensation of him driving her wild. “Look at me,” he demanded. “Look into my eyes. See what I’m feeling for you. This is more than sex, Kat. Look and you’ll see.” She was mesmerized by the heat dancing in that thick chocolate, unable to tear her eyes away no matter what as he pounded into her with steady strokes. Balancing himself with one hand, he moved the other to her clit, stroking stroking, stroking, bringing her up the mountain with him. “Now,” he said as his body tightened and muscles corded in his neck. “Now, Kat.” He pinched her clit, hard, and took them both over the edge into a black velvet whirlpool. Mike gently eased her legs down from his shoulders and rolled to the side, taking her with him, his cock still lodged tightly inside her. She wasn’t sure whose heartbeat she felt pounding against her ribs, his or hers, or whose breathing was the most ragged. Sweat covered their skin and glued them together but she didn’t care. All the anger, all the resentment had disappeared like so much smoke. This was where she belonged. She knew it.
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After a long time he withdrew from her, disposed of the condom and pulled her body back against him, spoon fashion. He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “This is the way it should be, kitten.” There it was, the old-fashioned nickname. Term of endearment. Kat. Kitten. He’d blurted it out one night in the midst of a particularly sharp exchange. Mike had halfsmiled and said, “My, my, the kitten has claws. Who’d have known?” The name had become more affectionate than contrary and just seemed to stick. Now it made her feel as if she’d come home. “Yes, it is,” she murmured before drifting off to sleep, her body well satisfied.
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Chapter Four The man sometimes known as Rip stood in his office looking out at interstate traffic passing not a hundred yards from his building. It was late and the roadway was a blur of headlights cutting into the night. Ants, he thought, moving in armies, rushing from place to place with no other purpose in life than to survive. Well, wasn’t that what he was doing? Something to survive? “Yes, I’m here,” he said into his cell phone. “Remember. Make sure they aren’t harmed in any way.” “We will handle them with kid gloves,” the man on the other end of the conversation told him. “Royalty wouldn’t be treated any better.” “Cut it out, Nando.” The man’s arrogance irritated him beyond belief. “I know how the great cartel lord Victor Herrera treats his guests. And you take great pleasure in carrying out his unpleasant orders. I want these people returned in one piece. Hurting them isn’t part of the bargain.” Nando Aguilar’s low chuckle sent chills skittering along Rip’s spine. “But it is ultimately my bargain, is it not? I’m solving a problem for you, si?” “You know how I got into this,” Rip spat at him. “Nevertheless, a successful conclusion to the problem will benefit us both.” “And get you off my back once and for all.” The chuckle resonated again through the connection. “Only if you are able to control your hungry habits, mi amigo.” “I’m not your friend.” Rip began pacing back and forth, jingling the change in his pocket. “Once this is finished, so are we.” “We shall see. Yes, indeed, we shall see.” His tone changed abruptly. “As soon as we have them in place, I’ll make the video and send it as we agreed. Be sure to contact the others when you receive it. Then move forward with the next step. Are you ready for your part?” “Don’t worry about me. I’m all set.” “See that you are.” The connection was broken abruptly. Rip snapped the cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, swearing under his breath. If he could just get out of this with everyone’s skin intact, he’d never, ever, make the same mistakes again.
*****
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Kat awoke before dawn, gray light filtering in through the slits in the blinds. The first thing she noticed was an unusual soreness in many places in her body. The second was the warm man lying curled up next to her, one leg thrown over hers, one muscular arm draped around her waist. And pleasure suffused her as she remembered every detail of the night before. No way could she deny how good it was to have Mike D’Antoni back in her bed. Or how wonderful the whole night had been. He’d woken her twice to make love again and each time was better than the time before. But through the haze of erotic pleasure one thought pierced her brain. No word from Mari. This was not right. They should be in Hawaii by now. Long before this. Mari should have called. Her internal sensors told her something was wrong. Slipping out of Mike’s grasp and out of bed as silently as she could, she found her sleep shirt and tugged it on, picked up her cell phone and made her way into the kitchen. But when she checked her voice mail there were no message. Not one. Why oh why didn’t I get a number from her where they’d be staying? She said it was a client’s house. Someone named Rand Prescott, I think. Yes, I’m sure that’s what she said. I should have made her give me the damn number. Booting up her laptop at the kitchen table, she went to the online phone directory, searching for the number of the airfield in San Diego where Mari had said the Wright plane would be landing when they stopped for lunch and refueling. But when she called them, nobody there could tell her anything. Just that the plane was still hangared there and one of the pilots had called to say there was a change of plans. They wouldn’t be leaving for a couple of days. Kat could hardly believe that. If they were going to lay over in San Diego, Mari would have called to tell her. And she couldn’t call the Wright International office there for three more hours. Next she searched for the number in Waikiki for Rand Prescott. The housekeeper who answered was doing her best to conceal her anxiety but she knew nothing except the Wrights and Mari had been no-shows. She’d tried calling the cell phone number she’d been given but there was no answer. The same thing when she tried to call Mr. Prescott. When she called the police department in San Diego to see if some kind of accident had been reported they told her they had nothing. She should wait twenty-four hours, then call back. Same thing in Waikiki. Damn! Finally she searched for any new reports of a small plane crash in the past twentyfour hours. She had no clout with the FAA or the NTSA, so this was the best she could do. But the two accidents she found were on the other side of the country. After brewing herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, she carried it into the living room and stood by the big picture window, sipping at the hot liquid and trying to wipe the anxiety from her mind. When that didn’t work, she returned to her laptop and searched 39
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for the longitude and latitude of San Diego. Without specific pictures, she’d often used geographic coordinates for cueing and prompting. Finally she found a map of San Diego and brought it up full screen, carried the laptop to the window and sat down cross-legged, the computer beside her. Inhaling and exhaling five times, cleansing breaths the way Vivi had told her, she forcibly emptied her mind of all thoughts and took herself into a meditative state. Five minutes later she was ready to try to view remotely, hoping the meditation helped and that her powers wouldn’t fade in and out. She fixed the geographic numbers in her brain, stared at the map and sent her mind hundreds of miles away to California. In moments her “signal line” began to emerge, frequencies radiating and impacting on her perceptive faculties, the first hint of the emergence of the image she was seeking. Soon she began to perceive bits and pieces of a picture. A corner of a white stone building. A piece of sidewalk. Was that water? A motel with a pool? A sliver of sidewalk emerged, the image wavered and sharpened. As quickly it changed to a dusty road cut through towering trees and bushes. Then everything wavered. Damn! It was gone. She was out of it. No, she could not lose it. Kat went through the routine again. Hot tea. Meditation. Focus on the map on the computer. This time the picture emerged a little more sharply and she could see the picture was a restaurant. On the water. People stood under the canopy but unlike the surroundings, they were too blurred to distinguish. A flash of black swept across her vision. A truck. No, a van. The image stabilized, frozen across the plane of her vision. The Wright family, Mari, some strange men. Then they were gone. Erased as if by a swipe of a cloth. The first thing she felt was exhaustion from the effort. The second was the sense of a terrible evil. Something was very, very wrong. Trying to control her panic, she grabbed her cell phone, checked once more to see if Mari had called, then dialed the number of her sister’s cell. Still no answer. She threw the phone onto the couch and flopped down next to it. What should she do? This was well past the time it should have taken them to arrive, get to the house where they were staying and settle in. What had happened in San Diego? Had they never arrived in Hawaii at all? “Kat?”
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She hadn’t even heard Mike come into the room. He’d pulled on his boxers and run his fingers through his hair but otherwise he looked pleasantly morning-after sleep rumpled. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” “No problem. I knew when you got up but I figured you’d be back in a minute.” His eyes took in the expression on her face and tracked over to the cell phone and then into the kitchen and the laptop. “Problem? Must be to get you up so early.” His mouth curved in a crooked smile. “I must not have worn you out as much as I thought.” “I still haven’t heard from my sister. I’m trying not to worry or make a huge deal out of it. Except she knows to call me regularly so I won’t worry. I’ve checked missed calls and called her cell at least two dozen times. Mike, they never arrived in Hawaii.” She told him about her calls to the airfield, the house in Waikiki and to the police in both San Diego and Hawaii. “The airfield said they got a call about plans being changed and the police give me the same old line about waiting twenty-four hours. I can’t do that.” “What else?” he asked. “I can tell by your voice there’s something.” “I-I did a remote viewing session and I think something happened in San Diego.” “Okay. Let’s not panic yet.” His voice was calming, reassuring. Even. “Is there coffee here?” She nodded. “Let’s put a pot on and get dressed. Then I’ll get to work.” She leaped off the couch and threw her arms around him, trying her best to beat back the fear. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” “Hey.” He looked down at her and winked. “It’s what I do, remember?” She gave Mike the guest bathroom and used her sister’s. By the time she’d showered, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and scraped her hair back into a ponytail, the coffee was done and Mike was at the kitchen table, cell phone glued to his ear. He pointed at the coffee pot and the mug waiting for her. “Okay,” he was saying. “Uh-huh. Thanks. I really appreciate it.” Kat took the chair next to Mike. “Who was that?” “One of my partners. Mark Halloran. I told you about him yesterday.” “I remember. His wife’s the author.” Mike nodded. “He’s on his way over here.” Kat looked at the kitchen clock. “Now? At this hour?” “Mark and Faith will be here in thirty.” “Here?” Kat squeaked. “Ohmigod, Mike. I look like hell and I have nothing in the place to serve them.” “Not to worry,” he laughed. “They’ll bring breakfast.” His face sobered. “I told him it was important. From what you said, I can tell it is.” She nodded, trying to make her voice as calm as possible. “Mari still hasn’t called yet, Mike. That’s so unlike her. And that isn’t all. I don’t think they ever left San Diego.”
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He raised an eyebrow. “What? Why do you say that?” She took a swallow of the hot liquid, cradling the mug in her hands, then set it back down in front of her. “I wouldn’t tell this to just anyone but since you already know about my so-called gift and said your partners’ wives have gifts also, I thought…” “It’s all right.” He reached across the kitchen table and picked up one of her hands with his, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m with you. So tell me again what you did.” “I decided to start with San Diego because they were scheduled to stop there for fuel and lunch.” She brushed a stray stand of hair away from her forehead. “If I didn’t ‘see’ anything there, then I’d try Hawaii but I don’t have enough information for that yet. I’d need to know where they were supposed to land and the approximate location of the house where they are supposed to be staying.” “Okay. So were you able to see anything?” “Not as much as I wanted.” She took another sip of her coffee and set the mug down carefully. “Remote viewing isn’t exactly what people think it is. A viewer can focus and send her or his thought waves hundreds or even thousands of miles away. They find a signal line, like with radio waves, using photos or GPS locations or a variety of techniques. But it isn’t like turning on the television.” “So what is it like? What do you see?” “I see the scenes like pictures,” she explained. “Like images taken with an imperfect camera, where part of the images are missing. Then I focus…focus…focus and a shutter in my brain goes click! Freeze frame and there it is. Whatever there turns out to be.” “So what did you see?” he prodded again. She told him what little she’d been able to gather. “Enough to make me believe something bad happened in San Diego,” she said. “I know it. I feel it. And Mike? Don’t think I’m crazy but I get a sense of tremendous evil involved here.” “I’ve learned not to disregard those kinds of feelings,” he told her. “Especially in the last couple of years.” “I just don’t know who to get hold of or how to go about tracking them down. I’m such an idiot I can’t remember the name of the people who own the house they’re supposed to be staying in.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “This is so not like me.” He eased his fingers away from hers and reached out to cup her chin. “I can handle that.” His eyes were blazing with unspoken emotion. “I want you to trust me with this, Kat. Phoenix can help.” “Oh god, I hope so. If anything’s happened to her…” “Let’s not borrow more trouble until we have to.” He picked up his cell phone again. Kat refilled their coffee cups and listened while he called someone named Andy and asked for a list and all contact information for Wright International’s executive staff. Also the same information for any other members of the family—sisters, brothers, whatever. 42
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When the doorbell rang Mike got up to answer it. Kat heard the sound of voices as they came through the living room into the kitchen. The small room was crowded with two very big men and a brunette who Kat thought was too gorgeous to be legal. Faith Wilding, the famous author. Here. In Mari’s kitchen. Then she took a look at the man standing next to Mike. As tall as Mike, he had broader shoulders with the same lean but muscular frame. A thick shock of midnight black hair topped a rugged face with inky black eyes. He looked as serious as Mike. Mike made the introductions. “Kat Culhane, Faith and Mark Halloran.” She held out her hand and Mark shook it. “Pleasure meeting you, Miss Culhane.” “Kat. Please. Too bad it’s not the social occasion planned for later this morning.” “I’m just glad to meet you at all. My aunt raved and raved about you.” Faith stepped forward and pulled Kat into a hug. “You look like you need more than a handshake.” Kat felt an instant connection with the woman, as if they’d known each other forever. “I don’t…I can’t…” “We’re fine. Everything will be okay.” She stepped back and gestured at a large open box on the counter. “We brought offerings from Krispy Kreme, the doughnut of the angels. Why don’t we all sit down and you can fill us in on the situation.” So Kat told her story once more, this time in greater detail as she explained about the trip, where the Wrights and Mari were going, everything she actually knew. “She’d call me unless something was wrong,” Kat insisted. “We’re very close. Since our parents died we only have each other.” “Okay, let’s see what the Dragonslayer’s got so far,” Mark said, turning on his BlackBerry and scrolling through it. Kat raised her eyebrows. “The Dragonslayer?” “Andy. Our resident geek. He runs the super-duper computer back in Baltimore that Dan Romeo, our senior partner, dubbed the Dragon. Hence the name.” “Okay, here we go.” Mark was punching buttons on his BlackBerry. “Names and phone numbers at Wright International. Ron Pelley, the executive veep. Andy sent his private numbers for home and office. Let’s start with him.” He tapped in the number. Kat curled her hands around her coffee mug once again, willing herself to a calmness she didn’t feel as Mark spoke into his phone. Mike sat down next to her and almost casually draped his arm across the back of her chair, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder. Just from that tiny contact his warmth and assurance seeped into her. When she turned her head to look at him, he said in a low voice, “Things will be fine. We’ll take care of it.” And somehow she knew he would. “Okay.” Mark looked at everyone. “Pelley says he didn’t expect to hear from his boss until sometime today. He’s got Rand Prescott’s number at his office and all the rest of the information he might need. Apparently Prescott and Eli Wright have partnered 43
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on some projects. Pelley also said he’d check on the security detail who were supposed to be watching the Wright party while they were in San Diego. He expects to be there in about thirty minutes.” “Is there anyone else who might know what’s going on?” Kat was sure the only reason her voice was so steady was because of Mike’s presence and his reassuring touch. Mark nodded and began punching in more numbers. “I’m calling Ryan Post, Sydney Wright’s brother. Pelley didn’t mention him but Andy got all his numbers, including the office he has for the string of spas he owns.” Faith raised an eyebrow. “Spas?” Mark shrugged. “To each his own. Yeah, Mr. Post? This is Mark Halloran of the Phoenix Agency. Sorry if I woke you. I’m a little worried about your sister and her family and I’m hoping you can put my mind at rest.” Again they all listened to the one-sided conversation, Kat strung as taut as a bow, waiting for whatever answer Mark might be able to get. But when he disconnected he just shook his head. “He has no idea either. He’s leaving for his office right now and he said he’ll do what he can to try tracking them down. I gave him my cell but I think we should check on him after we see Pelley.” “Don’t these people keep phone numbers with them?” Faith asked. “You guys never go anywhere without a list a mile long.” Mark shrugged. “Everyone operates differently. And Ryan Post may not be on the best terms with his sister. Andy says a couple of stories he found hinted there was some kind of bad blood there.” “Wonderful,” Mike grunted. “What kind of bad blood?” Faith wanted to know. “The articles he found mostly had to do with their parents’ estate,” Mike told her. “He found one article written about the time they were killed in a plane crash. Apparently they left a sizable estate. The other one was a year later, something about final disposition of the assets.” Faith made a sound of disgust. “Nothing like a few bucks to bring out the worst in people.” “I can’t believe a man like Eli Wright would go off with his family and not tell people how to contact him,” Kat cried. “He runs a multibillion-dollar business, for god’s sake.” “He’d leave that information at the office,” Mike reminded her. “And we’re calling Pelley there in a few minutes.” “What about trying someone at San Diego?” Faith suggested. “If they stopped there for lunch and refueling, someone might know what’s going on.” She looked at Kat.
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“And if you saw something you didn’t like in your session, we really need to find out what’s going on there.” “Agreed.” Mike pulled out his cell and stood up. “I’m going to call the airport there. Most private planes use a small one that’s better equipped to handle them. It’s like a little club so if anyone knows anything, they’ll tell me.” He walked into the living room, murmuring softly into the phone, Kat following him with her eyes. Faith touched her arm. “If anyone can find out what’s happening it’s Mike. He’s like a bulldog.” “She’s right,” Mark agreed. “The only one I know more determined about anything is my wife. If it hadn’t been for her I might be rotting away in a Peruvian jungle, or worse yet, dead.” They exchanged a look so intimate Kat felt as if she was peeking through someone’s curtains and she had to turn her eyes away. She wanted that so badly with someone. Once she thought she might have had it with Mike. Was it possible for them to go back and pick up the pieces? She badly wanted to believe what he’d said last night. “Tell me a little bit about remote viewing.” Faith’s words broke into her mental wanderings. “I know very little about it.” Glad for the momentary distraction, Kat gave her the simplest explanation she could. And only because Faith had a psychic gift herself did she feel comfortable revealing so much about herself and what she could do. “When I met with your aunt yesterday,” she added, “it was to find some help. Or answers. My psychic power has been wavering and I’m always afraid it will fail me at exactly the wrong moment.” “And did she tell you that, everything else aside, stress can be the single most complicating factor?” “Yes, she did.” Mark studied her expression. “And is there something that’s been going on with you to stress you out?” Kat definitely wasn’t ready to discuss Brent, with him or anyone else. And thank you, Brent Fontaine, for so thoroughly screwing up not just my life but my mind. Maybe if he’d quit calling her she could stick him in a mental corner for as long as she needed to. Faith reached for Mark’s hand. “I had to completely focus when we were hunting for Mark. Our psychic link was the only thing we had to go on so I couldn’t afford to let it weaken.” Mark nodded in agreement. “Same here. I know you’re very worried about your sister but you know yourself this is the time you need to be the strongest.”
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“I know. I just—” “Okay. Got something.” Mike’s voice as he walked back into the kitchen interrupted whatever she’d been about to say. Her heart did a little stutter step and her stomach knotted. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, almost afraid to ask the question. “Good news or bad?” Mike sat down next to her. “Neither. I got the same message from the day manager at the terminal that you did, Kat. So the plane is still in San Diego but we have no clue as to where the Wrights and Mari are.” “But that’s absurd.” Kat jerked so hard her coffee sloshed over her hand. She blotted it absently. “Eli Wright has a business meeting in Waikiki today that Mari said is very important. He wouldn’t just blow it off.” She tossed the wet napkin onto the table. “Besides, if that was the case, Mari would have called to tell me about it.” Mike was nodding his head. “Exactly what I thought. And the manager wouldn’t be able to tell if the call came from the real pilot or not.” “Oh my god.” Mike had covered her hand with his and while she liked the feeling of comfort, she wasn’t ready yet to send signals to other people that might be misread. Still, she couldn’t deny the feeling of comfort it gave her. Damn it all, anyway. Why didn’t things ever happen at a convenient time? Carefully she retrieved her hand. “Now I know something terrible has happened.” “Let’s see what we can find out from Hawaii too,” Mark put in. “Maybe the housekeeper has heard from someone by now. If the Wrights really postponed this, they’d make the call and change their arrival time.” Mike looked at his watch. “Pelley should have reached his office by now. I’d rather talk to him face-to-face. People can hide a lot over the phone. After that we’ll track down the brother.” His gaze traveled to Mark. “Then I think we need to take a trip to San Diego.” “What do you think happened?” Kat asked, realizing how stupid the question was even as she asked it. “I don’t know yet, kitten. But whatever it is, we’ll take care of it.” And despite the others in the kitchen watching them, he tipped up her face and kissed her, hard and deep.
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Chapter Five When they had all been hustled onto the plane, Eli heard the men speaking angrily in Spanish and wished he’d spent more time learning it. The voices rose and fell, then someone stomped through the plane. Eli felt the prick of a needle as he was injected with something. At once he felt dizzy and thick-tongued. “What did you give me?” he demanded. “What’s going on?” “A minor delay,” his captor said. “Our travel arrangements have been changed slightly. We want to make sure you all get a good night’s sleep while we’re waiting.” “Where are my pilots? Did you kill them too?” He chuckled, a sound Eli heard as pure evil. “No, Señor Wright. They are sleeping soundly in a motel room and by the time they wake up in twenty-four hours, they will be fully rested.” Although the engines didn’t fire up, the plane began to move and Eli assumed they were being towed but before the rolling motion stopped, he passed out, the drug taking its effect. Eli was the first to awake, having no idea what time of day or night it was. Shortly they were all roused, blindfolded and led off the plane one by one to use the lavatory. As dark as the hangar was he still had no time orientation and he didn’t think their captors were into answering questions. Immediately after they were marched back to the plane, the stairs were rolled up, the door locked and the hangar door rolled up. As the plane was towed out sunlight flooded through the small windows. So. They’d been drugged sufficiently to sleep through the night. The engines ground to life, the plane roared down the runway and lifted off into the morning sky. The ride was fairly short, about an hour, Eli calculated since he couldn’t see his watch. Immediately after takeoff the curtains were pulled down over the windows so he couldn’t get any kind of geographic fix. Thankfully the women had fallen asleep again, although he hoped whoever administered the drug hadn’t gotten carried away with the dosage. He guessed his tolerance level was a lot higher than Sydney’s or Mari’s. Maybe muscle mass had something to do with it. He was pretty sure they were leaving the United States. It would be too much to hope for that they weren’t being taken to a foreign country, where police accessibility and protection would be pretty much nonexistent. He knew the governments operated on the payoff system. And Mexico had to be the worst. He still had no idea who had kidnapped them, or even who would have ordered it. The snatch was so well-planned he had a hard time believing it had been random. Like everyone else who watched the news and did business outside the United States, he
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was well aware of the rapid increase of kidnappings, where the victims were taken across the border. But in each case the person had been identified ahead of time, to be sure the money was available for a big payoff. So who had wanted him taken? Of all the people he knew, who was going to benefit from this? He was also deathly afraid that since they’d seen the faces of the kidnappers, they wouldn’t be allowed to live to identify them. Unless they were so untouchable they didn’t care. While he was still turning possibilities over in his mind, the plane reduced its speed and finally landed, the few bumps jarring his body. One of the men came back to the cabin carrying something in his hands. “Time to move,” he said. He slipped a black hood over Eli’s face. He tied it loosely at the neck, allowing for air since there were no cutouts for breathing. “I’m going to wake the women,” he went on in his accented voice. “If they put up a fuss, I hope you will convince them it is in their best interest to keep quiet. If I have to, I’ll put them to sleep again.” No! He didn’t want any more drugs in their veins. “I’ll tell them.” His voice was muffled now and he hoped his words would come through. He heard the man talking to his wife and daughter and to Mari, waking them and telling them they were leaving the plane. “You would do well to behave,” Eli heard him say. “It would be a shame if I had to hurt you in any way.” Eli heard the pleasure of anticipation in his voice, as if daring one of them to provoke him. “What’s going on?” This was Sydney. “”Where are we? Who are you?” “Mom?” That was Lissa, the alarm evident in her tone. “Dad? What’s going on? Hey! Don’t you touch me.” There was a slight sound of scuffling, as if Lissa was trying to move away from the man. “It’s okay, Lissa,” Eli said, hoping he conveyed more assurance than he felt. And hoping they heard him through the fabric of the hood. “All of you, please just do what he says.” “Dad, what’s this all about?” He heard the controlled panic in Lissa’s words. “I heard an explosion when they grabbed us. What was it? What happened?” “Just do what you’re told,” he repeated. “People will be looking for us when we don’t arrive in Hawaii.”
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The man with the malevolent laugh chuckled again. “They may look, señor, but I doubt if anyone will find you.” That was all anyone said to them until the door was opened and the stairway lowered. Then rough hands hustled them off the plane and into another vehicle—one that Eli thought was another van— and they began moving over a very bumpy road. “Just do what they tell us,” he told the women again. “Don’t antagonize anyone. We’ll figure out what to do.” This time more than one person laughed, then one man snapped an order at them. “Shut up. No talking. Just shut up.” “Why did you keep us in the plane overnight?” Eli asked, knowing he was probably irritating his captors but trying to extract every bit of information he could. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the controller we work with at the airfield had an emergency and switched shifts. An inconvenience that cockroach will pay for.” So. They had to wait until friendly eyes cleared them for takeoff. Eli filed that away for the future. He tried to concentrate on feeling the nuances of the ride—the bumpy road, the feeling of going up, the blazing heat coming in through the windows that the feeble air conditioning couldn’t do much to abate. At last the vehicle stopped, doors were slammed open and they were all pulled roughly outside. “Walk,” the man gripping his arms said. Eli managed the best he could with his ankles hobbled. He heard a door open, more low conversations in Spanish, then he felt himself thrown on the ground, his face pressing against what felt like dirt through the hood. “Mr. Wright?” The familiar voice addressed him. “Yes?” “I am going to untie your hands. Count to ten, then remove your hood and you may free the others. Do not move before the count of ten.” He heard noises he couldn’t identify, then a door slammed, hard. He carefully counted to ten, then yanked off his hood. “Hold on, everyone,” he told the others. “I’ll have you free in one minute.” He noticed they had left one end of the duct tape on his ankles flapping so he could grab it and pull it. As soon as he’d freed his ankles he pulled the hoods off the women and undid their bindings. He freed Sydney first, who helped him with the others, before throwing herself into his arms. She took three deep, steadying breaths before speaking. “Eli, what the hell is going on here?” Her face was pale but he could tell she was doing her best to keep calm for the others. “Daddy?” Lissa’s voice was quavery. “Where are we? Why did these men take us?”
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“And where are the security guards I arranged for?” Mari wanted to know. When Eli didn’t answer, Sydney pressed her fist to her mouth. “Oh no. Please, tell me no.” Eli pulled her into his arms. “Don’t think about it, sweetheart. There’s nothing we can do about it now.” “Are these men going to kill us too, Daddy?” Lissa asked in a choked voice. “Not if I can help it. Now. Some bad stuff has happened and when we get out of here we’ll all have plenty of time to fall apart. And mourn two good men. Meanwhile, let’s take stock of where we are and try to find out what’s going on. Whatever you do,” he told the women, “do not antagonize these people. He flexed his arms and legs, getting the numbness out of them before taking visual inventory of everyone, noting they all seemed relatively unharmed. He hoped the drugs they’d been given wouldn’t do any permanent damage. Despite being dirty and frightened, they all seemed to be keeping it together with superhuman efforts. They might be in an impossible situation but at that moment he was extremely proud of all of them, including Mari. “What about the pilots?” Sydney asked. “Did they kill them too?” Eli shook his head. “They said no and I’m trying to believe them.” He looked around at their surroundings. They were in a square room with a dirt floor and adobe walls. There was only one window but it was near the ceiling, narrow and too high to reach, even if Eli had someone stand on his shoulders. Besides, where could they go? A rectangle about the size of a closet jutted out of one corner. Eli opened the door and peered inside. “At least there’s a bathroom here,” he reported. “It won’t get high marks for cleanliness but it has the necessary items.” At that moment a heavy knock sounded on the door from the outside and a voice shouted, “Everyone stand back.” “Do as he says,” Eli told the women, motioning them to join him in a corner. They heard noises like wood being moved, then the door opened and a very large, almost fat man wearing dirty fatigues and with a rifle slung over one shoulder walked inside. With deceptive ease he swung the rifle into the ready position, then called out, “Bring it in.” Another man, similarly dressed, walked in carrying a large tray. It held stacks of tortillas and bottles of water. “Not a five-star hotel,” he said with casual indifference, “but we can’t have you starving.” He grinned, showing a missing tooth. “Not yet.” Then the two men were gone. “Daddy,” Lissa began. “We’ll be fine,” Mari broke in, reinforcing what her boss had said. “They aren’t starving us. That’s something.” She looked at Eli. “You think the food is okay to eat?” 50
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He nodded. “Like he said, they can’t afford to starve us. Yet.” He looked around at everyone. “And I have to believe we’ll be found long before that time gets here.”
***** Mike had insisted that Kat wait at the condo with Faith while he and Mark went to Pelley’s office. “I promise to call you the minute we’re out of there,” he assured her. “But you can’t add anything and this is something we do all the time. Okay?” He knew it took a supreme effort of will for her not to insist on going but she also agreed that what Mike said made sense. “You asked me to help you,” he reminded her. “That’s what I’m doing, so please trust me to do it right.” They were standing in the living room, away from the Hallorans, carrying on their conversation in low tones. Mike’s hands rested on her shoulders and he could feel the tremors running through her body. She leaned her forehead against his chest. “I do. I’m just so scared for Mari and for the Wrights.” “I know. Let’s just get to Pelley and see what we can find out.” But Pelley had little information to give them. Tall and lean, with a thick shock of reddish brown hair and a neatly trimmed moustache, in his Armani suit he looked every inch the high-profile executive. Even the worry lines creasing his forehead seemed to be etched in a symmetrical fashion. They had decided to play this low key, not rattle anyone’s cage yet. They needed to find out for sure if Pelley was somehow involved—not as farfetched as people might think—and a full-court press wasn’t liable to get them much information. Maybe just the opposite. “I’m very familiar with your agency,” Pelley told them, “although I must say I didn’t expect to meet you quite this way.” “Have you tried your boss’s cell phone and the place he’s supposed to be staying?” Mike asked. “Yes. I tried his cell just before you got here. Nothing. But let me try again.” He picked up the cell phone lying on his desk and speed dialed a number, holding the phone to his ear while the connection went through. After a minute he frowned again, disconnected and put the phone down. “No answer. I have to admit, that’s weird. Eli always has the phone on, even when it’s charging.” He rubbed the edges of his moustache between his thumb and forefinger, eyebrows drawn together. Despite those signs of worry, Mike felt the man was far too cool under the circumstances. His boss was out of touch for no known reason and he was far too calm.
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“What about the home where they’re staying?” Mike asked. “You said it belongs to a business associate? Rand Prescott? Did you call and see if they were there? Maybe the help there knows something. Maybe Eli Wright called from San Diego to change their arrival time.” Neither he nor Mark believed that was the case but again, it was the line they’d decided on. “Let me find out.” He pulled a scrolling telephone file toward himself and flipped through the cards until he found what he wanted. Mark and Mike waited while he dialed the number, then listened to Pelley’s side of the conversation as he questioned whoever answered. When he disconnected the call, he gave a good impression of someone suddenly very worried. “Nothing,” he told them. “They’re a little concerned themselves. They thought they’d get a phone call if the flight was delayed for any reason.” “Where’s Prescott now?” Mark asked. “I don’t know but I’m going to call his office and find out.” “Is it usual for your boss to be off the radar like this?” Mark asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. “A man who runs this kind of operation can’t just simply drop out of sight.” Pelley shook his head, frowning. “Not really,” he answered in an even voice, “although it’s happened a couple of times before. What worries me, though, is we can’t get in touch with the two private security guards who were with him. I haven’t heard from them and I can’t reach them either.” “Do they work for Wright International or did you hire them from a firm?” Mark asked. “They’re on our staff. I called the man who runs the San Diego office and he’s headed into the city to see what he can find out.” He met the eyes of both men with a direct look but Mike had the feeling that it was a look he practiced every day. He was sure the man did an excellent job, whatever that job was, or he wouldn’t be Wright’s executive V.P. But he wasn’t a man Mike would have put much trust in. He shrugged mentally. Maybe Eli Wright saw something different in him. All they had told Pelley when Mike called him was that Katherine was worried about her sister and could he, Pelley, get in touch with his boss and find out what was going on. It was time to feed him another nugget of information and see what his reaction was. “Are you aware the plane never left San Diego?” Pelley’s eyes narrowed. “I am now. I called the airfield. They told me they’d already spoken to you and to some woman.” “Mari Culhane’s sister,” Mike told him. “Someone—not necessarily the pilot— called and said they wouldn’t be needing it and to tie it down.”
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in.”
“That’s certainly not a good sign. I wonder why neither of the real pilots has called
“How big an office do you have in San Diego?” Mike asked. “A small one,” Pelley told him. “We don’t have a major facility there in any of our divisions, so it’s mostly just a place to process paperwork and take care of clients in the area.” He looked at his watch. “I’m trying to reach Harry Lombard who runs the place. His wife said he’s already left home, he’s not at his office yet and for some reason he’s not answering his cell.” “Would Wright have contacted him?” “You bet. He provided a young man to drive the vehicle and two security guards to trail them.” Mark frowned. “If he hasn’t heard from them, why isn’t anyone more upset?” Pelley shrugged. “It seems no one but the secretary was in the office all day. Len— the kid driving them—had another errand to run after he delivered the Wrights back to the airfield and the security guards would have gone on to their next assignment.” The two Phoenix agents exchanged a look. “Kind of a loose way to run an office, isn’t it?” Mike asked. “It’s just a satellite operation,” Pelley protested. “Besides, things like this don’t usually happen so no one would be expecting any trouble. If there has been any,” he added quickly. “Why don’t you give us this Harry’s numbers,” Mark said. “We’re heading out to San Diego ourselves and we’ll want to talk to him.” “All right but I’ll keep trying from here and call you as soon as he and I connect.” Pelley scribbled some numbers on a business card and held the card out. Mark took it and tucked it into his shirt pocket. “That’s the office, the house where they’re supposed to be and Eli’s personal cell phone. I’m going to keep trying from here.” He rose and extended his hand. “Please keep in touch, gentlemen. I’m hoping Eli just decided to play a little hooky in San Diego and didn’t want anyone to bother him.” Mark frowned at him. “A man with his responsibilities?” “Everyone needs a break now and then,” Pelley pointed out. “And he’s very comfortable leaving things in my hands. I’ve been with the company for fifteen years and I think I know it as well as he does.” “I hope you’re right,” Mike told him. He handed him a Phoenix card. “Our cell numbers are on the back. Call us the minute you hear from anyone.” He and Mark were silent while they took the elevator down to the underground parking lot. Neither of them spoke until they were in their SUV and out on the interstate.
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“Am I being prejudiced here,” Mike said, “or is there something off-key about Ron Pelley?” “You’re not prejudiced,” Mark told him. “He’s hiding something. I just wish I knew if it had to do with the disappearance or was totally unrelated. A man like him is in position to do some major financial shenanigans where the company is concerned.” “Okay, I’ll give you that he may not be involved in this. But he’s not off the hook with me.” Mike pressed a number on his cell. “I’m calling the airport to tell them to get the plane ready. We’ll head out there as soon as we check out Ryan Post. Do you need to pick anything up?” “My wife,” his friend laughed. “She’ll kill me if I go off and leave her. And Kat will put out a hit on you if you do the same.” “Crap. I wish there was somewhere to stash her while we do this. I don’t know exactly what we’ll find.” “Kat may be your best weapon,” Mark reminded him. “She can ‘see’ things for us that no one else can.” “You aren’t worried about taking Faith along?” “Are you kidding? Without her you guys never would have found me. And don’t forget she shot one of the terrorists without batting an eyelash. No, I like having her in my corner. And fortunately, she’s between books right now and her next tour doesn’t start for three weeks.” Mike sighed heavily. “I’ve seen the way you guys interact with your wives and the missions they’ve helped with. I just—” “You just don’t want to admit you’re in love with this woman and your protective instincts have kicked in.” “Love?” Mike snapped a glance at him. “Me?” “Yes. And this time, don’t be such a jerk about it.”
***** They had all used the very crude and primitive facilities that passed for a bathroom and cleaned themselves up as best they could with the trickle of water from the one faucet in the sink. But dust and dirt still clung to them and the oppressive heat created little rivulets of perspiration on everyone’s body. Eli had talked quietly with the others, doing his best to keep them calm while he tried to figure out what to do. Maybe I can talk them into just keeping me and letting the women go. But his gut told them that suggestion wouldn’t fly. If they wanted money, the more bargaining chips these men had the better. After debating whether the food was drugged and should be left alone, they decided to go ahead and eat.
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“We especially need the water,” Mari pointed out. “Otherwise we’ll get too dehydrated and it will sap our strength.” “You’re right,” Eli agreed. “We’re going to need that strength and I can’t see any reason why they’d put drugs in our food. They needed to do it before to get us here without any problems. But now we’re here, where can we go?” “Do you think people are looking for us yet?” Sydney asked, panic curling around the edge of her words. “Absolutely. When we don’t arrive at Waikiki, or check in with anyone, they’ll be all over this.” He made himself sound as confident as possible. Eli knew his wife was trying to maintain a calm front for Lissa and Mari and he could do no less. He smiled at her, this woman he loved so much and silently cursed that somehow he’d been the one to put her and the others in such jeopardy. He was sure he was the target. These days anyone with the kind of financial resources he had was fair game and he should have provided better protection for all of them. The Phoenix Agency had contacted him three or four times about training their security people and he’d kept putting them off. There hadn’t seemed to be any sense of urgency to get it done and before today he’d been satisfied with what his own people could do. But Phoenix had the best reputation in the business. Others who used them said they trained men as if they were going into combat, prepared for absolutely anything. If they got out of this alive—and he couldn’t allow himself to believe anything else—that would be the first call he made. “We’ll be fine,” Mari chimed in. “And I can guarantee you, when my sister doesn’t hear from me, she’ll call out everyone but the National Guard.” Her smile too was forced. “Maybe them too.” “I’m good, Daddy,” Lissa told him. “We’ll get out of this. You can handle anything.” “Thanks, kiddo.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But somehow I have the feeling all of this is my fault.” “Oh no, Eli,” Sydney said quickly. “Mr. Wright, that’s ridiculous,” Mari added. “You even had security guards with us.” “Yeah. Fat lot of good they did. I should have—” Before he could finish they heard the shifting of the wood outside and the door slammed open. Two of the men who had brought them stood there, now in filthy fatigues with what Eli was sure were AK47s pointing at them. The women scrambled back into a corner and Eli placed himself in front of them. Here goes nothing. “Whatever you want,” he said, “take me and let the women go. I can be very valuable to you by myself.” 55
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The man on the left spat on the dirt floor. “You are all valuable.” His eyes moved to each person in turn, then back to Eli, and he gestured threateningly with the gun. “I am Pedro. I am in charge of you.” He swept the gun from side to side. “All of you. You will do exactly as I tell you.” He jerked his head at the man with him. “This is Enrique. He will also be your…friend.” Eli tried to ignore the cold knot that had settled in his stomach. “And if we don’t? What will you do, shoot us? We’re no good to you dead.” Pedro lifted his lips in what was a caricature of a smile. “I don’t need to kill you, señor, to make my point. I can hurt you very, very badly. Starting with the women. Is that what you want me to do?” Sydney stepped forward to stand beside Eli. “What is it you want us to do? Why are we here?” “You’re going to be television stars,” he told them. “We’re going to make a little video here to send to some people. We want to make sure your friends know we’re taking good care of you. No one pays for damaged goods.” Raising his voice, he yelled, “Come on, asshole. We haven’t got all day.” In a moment a man in jeans and t-shirt, carrying a video camera and a newspaper, hurried into the hut. “Hold this so the front page shows. No talking,” he warned. Eli wanted to punch the man in the nose but he had the women to think of. So. This was definitely a kidnapping and they were arranging to send a proof of life. Eli had read stories about enough other high-profile, wealthy people who had been taken, held until the money was received and in many cases set free. In some, not. At the moment he had no choice but to go along with whatever was happening. As long as whoever was paying the ransom demanded proof of life, the kidnappers had to keep them alive and in relatively good condition. Lissa flinched as Pedro tugged at her arm with his less than clean hand, pulling her into place. Sydney and Mari stepped up without being touched. Pedro pushed Eli into the middle and gave him the newspaper. “Smile for the camera,” he taunted. Eli could see how pale all the women were, as well as exhausted but he was proud of each of them for holding their heads up high and refusing to let their dignity be taken from them. The man with the camera took shots of them as a group, then zoomed in on each person individually and finally on the newspaper with the banner showing the date. When he was finished, he nodded at Pedro and walked out. “There are guards outside,” Pedro informed them. “Your best bet at the moment is to do everything we tell you to. We’ll see how much people think you’re worth.” He backed out, the other man with him, and slammed the door into place.
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“Daddy?” Lissa’s voice was unsteady. “They really aren’t going to kill us, are they?” Eli pulled her against him, hugging her. “Not if I have anything to do about it.” “But what can you do?” his wife asked, her own voice slightly shaky. “My sister will start shaking some trees, if she already hasn’t,” Mari told her. “Believe me. These guys won’t know what hit them.” But first they have to find us, Eli thought to himself but refrained from saying it out loud. Everyone was doing their best to hold it together and he didn’t need to shatter their fragile composure by pointing out the obvious. He was a resourceful man, with personal strength that had allowed him to grow Wright International to its present size. He’d have to figure out if any of those skills could get them out of what was a steadily deteriorating situation.
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Chapter Six “Do you have the video?” the man known as Rip asked the person on the other end of the phone. His nerves were fraying and he wanted this damn thing over as soon as possible. “I’m insulted you even ask,” Nando answered. “We’re getting ready to email it in a minute.” “This has to be timed just right,” Rip reminded him. “Hit all the key people as simultaneously as possible.” “Just be sure to play your part,” Nando ordered. “Get off my back, okay? I have more at stake here than you do.” “Just making sure there are no slip-ups on your end. You know what you have to do. This has been discussed over and over. The plan is made. Follow it.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with.” Rip snapped the cell phone shut and tossed it onto his desk. Waiting for the two men from the Phoenix Agency hadn’t done a lot for his nerves and their conversation was even worse. He just hoped he’d pulled it off. At least he wasn’t the only one they were focusing on. And maybe they’d think him the least likely one, if he was lucky. Shit! Never in his life did he think he’d be in bed with a drug dealer cum kidnapper. But a rampant taste for high-priced call girls and any form of gambling had put him financially between a rock and a hard place. Little did he know his habits had been carefully noted and he’d been targeted. Since when did drug dealers become entrepreneurs in the world of crime? Rip thought they just sold drugs and killed people. At that last thought his stomach cramped. If Eli Wright or any of the people with him were murdered, the police wouldn’t stop looking until they had their answers, no matter who they caught in their net. He could only be invisible for just so long. Shit! Once he got out of this he was taking his share and leaving for an isolated island someplace, no matter what. Picking up his mug of coffee, he went to stand by the huge window facing east, looking at the view below and waiting for the next step in this disaster to take place.
*****
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Mike made sure Kat was fully settled in the cabin before heading into the cockpit. She’d been checking her cell phone constantly just in case somehow she’d missed a call from Mari. “Your phone’s rung several times,” Mike pointed out. “Is it possible some of them were from her and she somehow got cut off?” Kat shook her head. “I have a special ringtone for her, a favorite song of hers. I’ve just let everyone else’s go to voice mail.” “Someone’s spending a lot of time trying to reach you.” He tried to make a joke of it but he’d noticed her checking the caller ID, then letting the calls go to voice mail. He couldn’t help wondering who she was trying so hard to avoid. “No one important,” she told him but her mouth had tightened. Mike had given Faith a knowing look that said Take good care of her as he made his way up front. He was very worried about Katherine. The anxiety about her sister was almost making her physically ill. Faith had told him she’d only pretended to eat one of the donuts while he and Mark were out shaking the trees. When he tried to tempt her with some of the snacks he kept on the plane she just shook her head. “Maybe later,” she said. He knew she was still worried about the current instability of her psychic gift. She’d tried to see Vivi Alderson again before they left but the woman wasn’t at home. So now, in addition to everything else, the one thing she might be able to contribute to their search was wobbly. And how was he going to help her with that? His brain told him he should wait until this was all over before telling her how he felt about her. But he had the gut feeling that right now it might be just the thing she needed. If he could get her to believe him. Tonight, he told himself. He wasn’t waiting one minute longer to make sure this relationship was where it should be. “I don’t like the brother any more than I did the vice president,” Mark commented once they were in the air. He was riding in the copilot’s seat as he usually did when the two of them flew together. “Neither do I,” Mike agreed as he piloted the Phoenix plane toward the west coast. “While you were doing the preflight check I called Andy,” Mark told him. “I gave him Pelley’s name, Post’s and Rand Prescott’s. Andy discovered Prescott is coincidentally in San Antonio on business. That’s why his house is available. He called the man’s office, figuring he’d try the simple method first, but they refuse to tell us where he’s staying. I told him to get into the registration records of every hotel from San Antonio to Austin and get me a location. Then I want him to hack into every piece of electronic equipment he can find that they’re attached to. I especially want to know about cell calls and emails.”
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Mike gave a humorless chuckle. “If Uncle Sam knew how easily the Dragon can suck up cell phone calls they’d bury us somewhere deep in their underground facility in Colorado and no one would ever hear from us again.” “Or else pay us a ton of money and threaten us to keep our mouths shut.” “Neither is acceptable,” Mike reminded him. “This is our little secret, just like Andy is.” “Let’s hope our boy genius can work his magic. I have a feeling we don’t have a lot of time.” “You don’t suppose they’re all involved somehow, do you?” Mike tossed the idea out. “The brother and the vice president? And even somebody else? Like this Rand Prescott, who so conveniently was able to lend his house to the Wrights?” “Anything is possible, I guess but it seems pretty farfetched.” “Not any more than some other things we’ve worked on.” Kat unbuckled her seat belt as soon as they were in the air and leveled off, stretching muscles stiff from accumulated tension. She couldn’t sit still but pacing wasn’t going to do her much good. She smiled her thanks at the cup of coffee Faith handed her. “I’m not very good company,” she apologized. She just couldn’t make idle conversation right now. On top of her overwhelming concern for Mari, she had more than two dozen missed calls from Brent Fontaine. She didn’t even want to listen to her voice mail. She was sure everything in the mail box was from him and the last thing she wanted to hear right now was his voice. She’d spend a lifetime regretting her rebound relationship with such a narcissistic egomaniac. Faith waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Not to worry. You’ve got plenty on your mind.” Despite everything, Kat was more than curious about this very self-possessed woman who seemed to be taking everything in stride. “You’ve done this a lot?” she guessed. “Go on missions with the guys?” Faith chuckled. “Hardly. But I got my baptism by fire when Mark was still with Delta Force, his mission was blown and he was captured by a terrorist arms dealer. The mental connection we have is what saved him.” “Mike told me about it. How the only messages Mark could get out were telepathic ones to you. And that you were a rampaging tiger fighting the government who wanted to sweep everything under the rug, and getting Phoenix to rescue him.” “That was enough excitement for me,” Faith grinned. “But then Dan met Mia and we decided with both of us having psychic abilities it might be time to set up a Psi department in the agency.” Kat sipped at her coffee. “And how is that working out?”
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“We’re basically just getting it off the ground,” Faith explained, “trying to figure out how each person’s psychic gift can fit into a given situation. And then of course there’s Kelly, Rick’s wife, and her psychic dog.” “That I have to see.” Katherine actually laughed, something she hadn’t been doing for the past twenty-four hours. “I’m between books right now,” Faith went on, “and Mark thought if we got separated doing whatever we had to, our mental communication might be of some help.” They sat in silence for a while, neither woman wanting to speculate on what they might find when they landed. Finally Kat put her empty mug in the cup holder and stretched again. “I’m going to try one of your aunt’s exercises now,” she told Faith. “Then I’m going to see if I can do a remote viewing session in the plane.” Faith lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you need a dark, quiet place for that?” “I think I can make it work here if we can dim the lights. The engine hum is actually quite soothing.” “I’ll get the lights.” Faith walked over to the cabin wall and turned a round button set into the paneling. The lights obediently dimmed almost to nothingness. Kat sat on the couch, cross-legged, and tried to empty her mind of everything. A tiny smile tilted one corner of her mouth as she realized no matter how much she pushed everything away, Mike D’Antoni’s face hung stubbornly on her mental image screen. She was still amazed at how quickly and easily he and Phoenix had stepped into the situation. Especially since things between them were still unresolved. Changes had happened to him during the past two years. He seemed more settled, less flamboyant. Before he’d been the go-to-hell flyboy willingly taking on every dangerous assignment Phoenix had offered. Not that he didn’t do that now, he just did it with a quiet control she hadn’t seen before. Or maybe she’d just chosen not to look. When he’d bailed on her, it was easier to label him as a user, an adrenaline junkie, than to try to look behind the wall he always kept around himself. But this time she hadn’t seen the wall at all. The one that said “Caution”, not knowing which way to jump with her. There was an openness she knew hadn’t been there last time. The sex had been great from the start. No, stupendous. Off the charts. Every joining was spontaneous combustion. But it hadn’t gone any deeper than that, at least on Mike’s part. So when he’d disappeared, she’d pulled up her socks and tried to wipe him from her mind. The problem was she couldn’t get him out of her heart. And Brent Fontaine had given her more heartburn than relief.
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But this time. Ah, this time she saw something that hadn’t been there before. The coincidence of running into him in a strange city had to mean something, didn’t it? Not now. Get out of my head, Mike. I have important things to do. And then he was gone and all she saw was a blank space, empty, nothing there. Concentrate, she told herself, when she felt her muscles relax. And so with the plane humming along at thirty thousand feet, she placed the sheet of paper with the San Diego coordinates on it in front of her, projected her mind and tried to bring back the scene. This time the first thing that hit her was glittering sun, blindingly bright as it reflected off the nearby water. A small building sat at its edge, its red canopy reaching out to the curb. But the scene was fractured, like an image on her television screen when bad weather distorted the signal. She focused harder, shutting everything else out of her mind, and without warning the scene changed. Now she saw a blurry image of a road again, leading nowhere. A piece of a chain link fence intruded itself, then the vague outlines of two figures in an SUV. Bang! A blinding explosion like a burst of sunlight. And then, like always, the picture suddenly came into sharp focus. The image solidly framed in the lens of her mental camera. Frozen. “Oh my god.” She didn’t even realize she’d spoken until Faith touched her arm. “Kat? Are you all right?” Kat turned, shaking, and she had to swallow twice before she could speak. “We have to tell the guys right away. I’m sure the security guards have been killed and their vehicle blown up. The Wrights’ car too but no bodies there. It happened on some deserted road in San Diego.” She unfolded her legs and stood up. “I have to let Mike know. He can have someone find out, right?” “Absolutely,” Faith agreed. “Come on, let’s go up front.” Both men were grim-faced when Kat described what she’d seen. “We’ve still got more than an hour before we land.” Mark picked up a satellite phone sitting in a slot in the console. “Let me call the guy on the S.D. police force we met last time we were out here. Maybe he can fill in some of the blanks.” He glanced over his shoulder at Kat. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and what you saw has nothing to do with what’s happening with us.” “Lord, I hope so.” But she was far from convinced.
*****
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“Everyone should be receiving the email any minute,” Nando said, his voice roughsounding over the cell connection. “El Jefe has laid down the timetable. You will all get a call on your cell phones first, giving you the code to decrypt it and directing you all to check your computers.” “Are you sure this is the right way to do this?” Rip asked, voicing the feeling of unease that had been growing. They’d discussed this ahead of time and Nando had insisted. More people to confuse everyone, he’d said. Besides, wouldn’t it be logical to contact the brother-in-law, the executive vice president and the man whose house the Wrights were to stay in? Wouldn’t all of you be wondering why they hadn’t shown up? And wouldn’t all of you have access to the kind of money we’re asking for? Or appear to? “Trust me,” Nando told him now. “I’m absolutely right about this.” ”But calling in the FBI? No matter what you say, that’s just a death wish. We won’t have the opportunity to move as freely as we need to.” “Listen to me.” Nando’s voice sounded as if he was talking to a child. “Even when people are instructed not to inform the FBI, they do it anyway. People will notice the Wrights are missing and ask questions. When that happens, the authorities will think it strange if you do not do this. You are playing a part. Play it well, amigo. There is no way they can touch us, so it’s merely an exercise to make yourself look good. All of you.” “The FBI always says don’t pay the ransom, you know,” Rip reminded him. “But they can’t stop you. You know I’ve been through this before. Trust me. But no local police. They always want to be heroes. If you follow the plan, there won’t be a problem.” “And what about these people from the Phoenix Agency?” Rip persisted. “I don’t like having them mixed up in this.” “Pah,” Nando said, dismissing them. “A minor annoyance.” “Don’t let your arrogance make you careless,” Rip warned. “These people can be dangerous and I have more to lose here than you do.” “Then you’d better not make a mistake.” Nando’s voice was suddenly cold and sharp. Rip closed the phone with more than usual vehemence and stared at his computer screen. In a moment he saw a little icon pop up in the corner. He hovered the cursor over it for a long moment, then, taking a deep breath, he clicked on it, typed in the code he’d been given and the email opened. And there it was. The short video scrolled across his screen, then stopped but he’d seen enough. The group was filthy and looked tired but they were still unharmed. Thank god. He desperately needed this money but not at the expense of someone’s life. He hoped. The message in the email was simple, We have the Wrights and it will cost to get them back. Details to follow. 63
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He played the video three times, searching for…what? Finally he picked up his phone again and dialed a number. When the voice answered on the other end, he said, “I don’t know exactly how to say this but I just got an email that scared the hell out of me.” There was a long pause, then the voice said, “I think I just got the same one.”
***** They’d left their senior partner, Dan Romeo, to follow up with Harry Lombard and make sure the SDPD didn’t sit on their hands. The calls to the plane from both Dan and the San Diego police brought news both good and bad. The cop Mike spoke to said they’d only recovered two dead bodies. Plus one unconscious and in bad shape. He put the plane on autopilot while he went back into the cabin to talk to Kat. “The SD police are on it,” he reported, “after we ‘convinced’ them that they should hustle their butts to check into something involving Eli Wright.” He gave them what details he had. “But it gives us hope the hostages are still alive, or we’d have found their bodies too.” “Where were the Wrights last seen?” Faith asked. “Last anyone can recall, they left the restaurant, Il Maggiore, after lunch and headed off safe and sound.” “Did they mention to anyone they were taking a detour before heading back to the airfield?” Mark put in. “The cops are questioning the folks from the restaurant but so far no one remembers anything. And everyone isn’t at work yet either.” Kat gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in. “How did they find them?” “The police used helicopters as well as ground teams to search the area. They found the burnt-out hulks of two SUVs on a road to nowhere. Two bodies inside one of them were badly burned, dead from gun shots.” “It’s the security guards,” she said at once. “It has to be. Eli always has two from the local corporate staff wherever he goes. Besides, I focused on the coordinates and had the images of the Wrights and Mari firmly in my mind. If it isn’t them, then it’s the guards.” “They also found Len Randolph, the young man from the local Wright office who I’m told was acting as their chauffeur.” “Oh god.” Kat bit her knuckles. “Is he—” Mike shook his head. “No. He’s alive, although badly injured. But he’ll make it.” Kat’s breath came out in a whoosh. “Thank god for that.” “And Harry Lombard?” Mark asked.
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“Apparently as soon as Pelley called him he started rattling cages too. He’s completely freaked out about the whole thing. It’s not too cool to lose your boss, especially one as rich and high profile as Eli Wright.” “I just wish I could get a sense of where they are.” Kat twisted her hands together in a gesture of despair. Mike reached out to impulsively take them, worried at how cold they were. And shaking. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He looked at the woman sitting next to Katherine. “Faith, can you fix her a cup of tea? And there’s some brandy in that cupboard over the counter. Don’t be stingy with it.” “I’ll be fine,” Kat insisted. “Please don’t worry about me.” Despite the fact that they weren’t alone, Mike leaned forward, tugging her toward him. “You’ve been avoiding this since yesterday and I’m not letting you back away anymore.” He felt her shock as he kissed her full on the lips, an open-mouthed kiss that breathed heat into her. As the flame of his tongue swept through the welcoming cavern he felt the chill begin to ease from her and her body settle down. He didn’t care who was watching them. Kat needed him whether she wanted to verbalize it or not and he had to show her that he had no plans to bail on her, no matter what. The sound of Faith clearing her throat brought him back to reality. He looked up to see her smiling, holding a steaming mug in her hands. “Tea, anyone?” she joked. Kat blushed, pulling her hands from Mike’s to take the mug from Faith, but he touched her cheek one last time. “I need to get back up front,” he told her. “Will you be okay?” “I’ll make sure she is,” Faith told him. “I’ll put on the sign when we get ready to land. I radioed ahead for a vehicle and the cop I spoke to sent me the address where he’s going to meet us. Then we’ll take it from there.” As Mike made his way back to the cockpit, he did his best to show neither his anger nor his unsettled feeling but all his instincts were telling him the shit was about to hit the fan.
***** Eli had made sure everyone drank one full bottle of water and ate some of the tortillas. Hunger and dehydration wouldn’t do any of them any good and he didn’t know when anyone would bring them food and drink again. They were all sticky with the heat, soaking Eli’s handkerchief with the tepid water from the faucet to blot themselves in turn. He was extremely proud not only of his family but also of Mari. Everyone was doing their best not to complain but he could smell the fear in the hut and see the 65
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anxiety on their faces. As he put himself through a series of exercises to keep himself in shape he searched through his mind for who the video could be going to. Who could have masterminded such a thing. Because this was no random kidnapping. The men behind it had to know how much he was worth and who they could get the money from. They had no way to communicate with the outside world, of course. The men who’d taken them had kept the women’s purses and stripped his pockets of everything they contained. So no cell phones. The first thing he wanted to find out was where they were, at least generally. “Lissa?” “Yes, Daddy?” “Come here. I’m going to boost you up on my shoulders.” She scrambled up from the corner where she’d been sitting next to her mother. “Look out that little window and tell me what you see.” He balanced her as she got into place, then rose, holding her legs and finally helping her to stand. It was a bonus that she was a cheerleader, limber and used to this kind of action. “A bunch of men,” she told him. “Dark hair. Some of it long. Sitting under a tree off to the side. Oops!” She started to teeter and Eli gripped her ankles harder. “Just sitting?” he asked. “Eating lunch, I think. They all look like Emilio Calderon.” Calderon was the man who ran the Wright International Agrico office in Mexico. Lissa had met him the few times he’d been at their house. So. Mexico? “What does the landscape look like?” he asked. “A big yard where some native grasses have been cut down. Mountains off to the right that I can’t tell too much about. Maybe trees on them. Big trees in the yard.” She adjusted her feet for balance again. “Oh. One of the men is sitting on an overturned box. I can just make out some of the letters. M-A-Z-A…That’s all.” “Okay, princess. Down you go.” “What do you think?” Sydney asked anxiously. “Mexico,” he told her. “Most likely Mazatlan. They flew us here on a place that had a Mazatlan Textiles logo on it. And everyone we’ve had contact with is Mexican.” “God.” She rubbed her face. “How will anyone find us here? And what does a textile manufacturer want with us?”
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As quietly as he could, trying not to upset anyone more than they were, he said, “The company is a front. I believe the main business is drugs and we’re somewhere on the estancia of a major drug lord.” “Oh my god.” She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “They’ll never let us go free.” “Not true,” Mari broke in. “This may actually be good news. I’ve read about kidnappings like this and the drug lords almost always let their victims go.” “But we can identify them,” Lissa protested. “Only the low-level people,” Eli reminded her, lowering her to the floor. “And the cartel leaders don’t care about keeping their identity secret. Our government hasn’t been able to touch them, so why should they care?” “I think the men you saw in the yard, Lissa, are just workers on the place,” Mari told her. “Not part of the guard detail.” “I’m just trying to figure out who worked with the cartel on this. Someone had to set us up, feed them information.” At that moment they heard wood rattle and the door slammed open. Pedro pointed his gun in a semicircle around the room, making sure he could see everyone in there. Everyone did their best not to react but he frowned, as if he’d caught them at something. His eyes raked each person from head to foot. “I hope you haven’t been plotting anything here,” he said. “There is absolutely no way for you to escape. You will do as I say until…whatever.” Eli stepped forward. “Until what? I want to know where we are, what you want and how long you plan to keep us. And who’s behind all this.” He clenched his fists. “I demand to see him right now.” “Demand, huh?” Pedro laughed, a derisive sound, then without warning reversed the rifle and slammed the butt into Eli’s stomach. He doubled over, pain shooting through every nerve in his body, barely able to keep from throwing up. “Eli! My god.” Sydney hurried over to him, trying to help him. “I’m okay,” he told her in a choked voice. “Don’t say anything.” But he knew his wife and saw her look up at the man looming over her. “You didn’t have to do that. Why did you hit him?” Pedro slapped her, a big ring he wore slashing open the skin on her cheek. “Shut up or you could get worse.” He looked over his shoulder. “Bring the stuff in. They won’t give us any trouble.” The same man who had brought them things before carried in another tray filled again with bottled water and more tortillas. Pedro motioned for him to set it on the floor, then leave. “We’ll be back for your next big video scene very soon,” he told them, then spat on the floor. “Clean yourselves up.”
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The door slammed shut and the bolt dropped into place. Lissa, crying silently, went to help with her father. Mari wet the community handkerchief and cleaned Sydney’s face as best she could. No one said a word but they were all aware that things had suddenly gotten worse. And maybe they wouldn’t get out of here after all.
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Chapter Seven The situation in San Diego was a disaster. Mike landed at the private airport the Wrights used, taxied up to the terminal and told the man who came out of the adobe building they might only be there for a couple of hours. The man had just finished putting blocks behind the wheels when a man whose badge indicated he was the airport manager came running out to them. “I monitored your incoming comm,” he said. “Which one of you is D’Antoni?” Mike stepped forward. “I am. What’s the problem?” “You the one who called here checking on the Wright International plane?” Mike nodded. “What’s the problem?” Mark came up to stand quietly next to him. “We just got a call from a man who says he’s the chief pilot for Wright,” the manager told them. “Doesn’t sound too good, I’ll tell you.” “What did he say?” Mark prodded impatiently. “Yesterday when he and the copilot left to go into town for lunch their car was waylaid, they were kidnapped and drugged. Apparently they’ve been stashed in some motel and the drugs wore off just a few minutes ago. As soon as they finish the gallon of coffee they ordered to clear their brains, they’ll catch a cab back here. I told them you were coming in.” “What happened to their car?” Mark asked. The manager shrugged. “They have no idea. But they gave me the name of their motel. It’s about fifteen minutes from here.” “They should be here any minute then. What happened yesterday anyway?” The manager shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wish I could tell you. The plane landed, the Wrights took off in one vehicle waiting for them, their security people in a second one and the pilots took care of stuff with the plane. They expected to be wheels up by two thirty.” “And?” Mike prompted. “And no one ever came back. I got a call from a man who said he was the chief pilot telling me there had been a change of plans and to tie down the plane overnight. So that’s what I did. I didn’t think anything was wrong until I heard from you this morning.” “Mike? What about the dead bodies?” He could hear the distress in Kat’s voice. “Are you going to call the man from the police department and tell him we’re here now? Arrange to meet with him?” 69
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“What dead bodies?” the manager asked. “What’s going on here?” Mike gave him a brief recap of what they knew. “We’re assuming it had something to do with the Wrights’ disappearance.” “Disappearance?” The manager widened his eyes in shock. “Is that what’s going on? Jesus, the last we saw of them, they were headed to the waterfront for lunch.” “Mike?” Katherine tugged on his sleeve and he took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m on it, kitten.” He looked at the manager. “Do you have the car I called ahead for?” “Yes. It’s on the other side of the building. The keys and paperwork are in my office. Come on. I’ll get you fixed up.” As they all started toward the building, a cab came barreling through the gate and pulled up to the building. Two men in rumpled clothing with a day’s growth of beard jumped out of the cab, paid off the driver and hurried up to them. “Are you the pilots for Wright?” Mike asked. “Yeah,” one of them answered, slightly belligerent. “Who are you?” “Mike D’Antoni.” Mike held out his hand. “Phoenix Agency.” “Jack Williams.” He indicated the man with him. “This is Pete Miller. Can someone tell us what the hell is going on?” Mike introduced everyone in his group and gave the two pilots a concise version of what he knew. “My sister is Mr. Wright’s assistant,” Kat added. Recognition lit Jack Williams’ eyes. “Mari Culhane is your sister? She’s one sharp lady.” “Thanks. I’m worried sick about her and what’s happened.” Mark began shepherding everyone into the building. “Let’s go inside and pick up the vehicle,” he said. “Then we need to meet the cop we spoke to.” “We could use some more coffee too,” Jack told them. “I think we need a lot of caffeine to wash away the residual effects of whatever they gave us.” “Okay. Let’s just get moving here.” The pilots repeated their story for him, not a complicated one. The initial stretch of road from the airport into town was fairly light on traffic. A van had pulled up next to them at the first stoplight, a man had jumped out, smashed the driver’s window with a gun and forced him to open the doors. That’s all they remembered until they woke up in the motel. “They needed to keep you out of the way long enough,” Mike mused. “I guess they gave you an extra dose of whatever it was just to be sure.” It took only a few minutes to sort things out. Mark called Detective Aaron Wagner who told them where to meet him. 70
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“We need to check out the plane, then find another motel,” Jack Williams told them. “Can we exchange cell numbers so we can keep in touch?” The process took scant minutes, then Mike hustled everyone into the silver SUV waiting for them and headed toward the city. Beside him, Kat was checking her cell phone again, scrolling through missed calls, deleting several. Who in the hell was making her so tense? What problem was she avoiding? Surely whoever it was could be dealt with in one call and be gotten out of the way. In the seat behind him he could hear Mark talking to Pelley, asking if he’d found out anything, then repeating the conversation with Ryan Post. “Nothing,” he told them all. “Pelley says he can’t reach anyone who’s heard from Wright and Ryan Post is trying too hard to make us think he cares.” “Didn’t Andy say there was bad blood between brother and sister?” “Yup. I told him to dig up more about it.” Before they’d gone another mile Mike’s cell phone rang. “It’s Andy,” he told everyone, reading the caller ID. “Maybe he’s got something for us already.” Mark reached over the back of the seat. “Here, let me take it. You’re driving.” He held the phone to his ear. “Okay, Dragonslayer. What have you got? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No kidding. Yeah, keep on it. Okay.” “What’s up?” Mark asked, keeping his eyes on the road. “Andy managed to hack into not only the business systems of the people we told him to but also their laptops. If they’re on the internet Andy can find them. Interesting news item. All three men—the brother, Pelley and Rand Prescott—just got a video email from an anonymous source. It’s encrypted but Andy says it’s a simple code and he should crack it in no time.” “Can he tell where it came from?” “Not yet,” Mike said. “Whoever’s doing this has a pretty sophisticated setup so it will take him some time. First he’s going to work on opening the email. He knows that’s highest priority.” “Interesting that all three of those men would get an email from the same source,” Mike commented. “Kind of makes me think I was right, that they’re all involved somehow.” “Or else someone wants us to think they are,” Kat pointed out. “More interesting that neither Post nor Pelley said a word to me about it when I called them just now. You know it had to have something to do with the disappearance.” “How long before Andy can find out what the message said?” Kat asked. “He’s working on it,” Mike assured her. “But we know something’s happening. We’re not standing still.” He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “Let’s meet Detective Wagner and see what he has to say.” 71
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***** Brent Fontaine jammed his cell phone back into his pocket and took his place in line at the airport gate. Damn that bitch anyway. Who the hell did Katherine Culhane think she was to avoid him that way? She should be damn grateful he took an interest in her. Spent as much time with her as he did. Telling him it was over infuriated him. Women didn’t walk away from Brent Fontaine. He walked away from them. Now he had to waste his time on this stupid business trip when he really should be tracking her down. Showing her what happened to women who pissed him off. And brushing him off at a party in front of his friends? That was a big mistake on her part. She’d pay for humiliating him that way. He’d just have to take care of business in San Diego as quickly as possible and get back to tracing her movements. He hadn’t yet hired a private agency but he would if he had to. No one got the best of him. Ever.
***** Rip played the video on his computer one more time before punching in the familiar phone number. “Okay, what’s next? If we’re going to call the FBI, we have to decide the appropriate person to do it.” “I think you know who that should be,” Nando said. “I leave it to you to guide the others in the proper direction. And if no one else mentions the FBI, then you bring it up. Remember, we want everyone to act as naturally as anyone would in this circumstance. And you want the call to go to the FBI’s San Antonio office.” “Not San Diego?” “No. Let the SA office call them and get them involved. That’s the last place the Wrights were seen, right?” he reminded him. “Yes, yes, yes. All right. I’ll let you know what happens.” “Tell the others to set their cell phones to vibrate. You do the same. There’s no telling where any of you will be when a call comes through.” Five minutes later the three men were on a conference call, deciding who should do what. It was easy enough to lead them in the direction he wanted. They were all very careful. If any outsider happened to overhear them, they’d have been convinced that every one of them was equally shocked and upset by the turn of events. If one of them had advance knowledge, it wasn’t in any way evident. The discussion about the FBI took less time than Rip expected. And deciding on who should make the call was a no-brainer. As Rip pointed out, there was really only one logical person.
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***** Special Agent in Charge Anthony Delaware knew this call was one he had to handle himself. Eli Wright was an international figure. When something happened to him, it was global news. In less than thirty minutes he was sitting opposite Ron Pelley, expressing his concern and asking probing questions. Pelley spread his hands out. “What I told you is all I know, Agent Delaware. I got the cell phone call, then received the video email on my computer and called you immediately.” “And you had no idea anything was wrong?” Delaware persisted. “No clue of any kind? You weren’t concerned when you didn’t hear from your boss?” “I didn’t necessarily expect him to call last night. I knew he and his family and Miss Culhane would be busy getting settled in.” Pelley shrugged. “There wasn’t anything urgent demanding his attention.” “We need to make some arrangements right away,” Delaware told him. “They’ll contact you again and we have to be ready for that. I’ll want to get someone out here now to put a trap and trace on your cell and your computer.” Pelley raised his eyebrows. “Can you do that with a cell? I didn’t think it was possible.” “Yes, if we have the phone in our possession, which in this case we do.” “I can’t imagine who would do something like this.” Pelley jiggled a gold pen as he spoke and a nervous tic had appeared at the corner of his left eye. “And why didn’t they ask for money in the first email, if that’s what they want?” Delaware wondered if the evidence of a developing case of nerves came from the impact of the kidnapping or if Pelley was holding something back from him. “That’s not unusual with kidnappers,” he told him. “Gets the family and friends on edge, anxious, stirred up, so when the request for ransom comes in no one wants to dally about doing it.” “There’s something else.” Pelley shifted in his chair. “Then this morning two men from something called the Phoenix Agency showed up with some crazy story.” He repeated what they’d told him. He frowned. “Do you think they could have something to do with this? That they were, you know, just testing me?” “Phoenix?” Delaware sat up straighter. This was a new wrinkle. “Absolutely not. But why would they show up here asking about this? Did they mention kidnapping?” “No. It seems one of the agency partners is involved with a woman named Katherine Culhane. Her sister is Eli’s executive assistant and she’s on the trip with them. They were concerned that they hadn’t heard from her and couldn’t contact her.” He picked up a paper clip and began unbending it. “I tried to tell them what I just told you—that they were all probably busy getting settled in.” “Where are they now?” “They indicated they were going to San Diego to see what they could find there.” 73
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Pelley frowned. “Do you think they’ll be a problem?” Delaware was thinking furiously. He was well aware of the Phoenix Agency. Some hated them, some swore by them but they always got the job done. He was one of the few people who knew the government also used them when a situation arose that official hands couldn’t touch. He hoped he didn’t bump heads with them over this. “I’m going to do my best to shortstop them.” Delaware shook his head. “Did they leave you phone numbers?” Pelley pulled a thin business card from the corner of his desk blotter and passed it across the desk. “Here’s what they gave me. They said to call them if I heard anything. Should I—” “No,” Delaware cut him off. He copied the numbers into a tiny notebook, then handed back the card. “Let’s wait and see what happens on this end. If they contact you again and pressure you, give them my number.” “Should I tell them about the video email? And my meeting with you?” Delaware shook his head. “I’ll take care of that when the time comes. If this crosses international lines, we need to handle this very delicately.” “I don’t want them to do anything to screw this up. I just want to pay the ransom, whatever they ask for, and get everyone back.” “About the ransom.” Anthony Delaware shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He’d have to give Pelley the bad news right at the start. “I’ll be honest, Mr. Pelley. There’s been a rash of kidnappings by drug cartels, taking the victims across the border to Mexico.” “You can’t mean that.” “Oh but I do. Narcoterrorists, they’re called. Narcotrafficantes. The income from their drug sales isn’t enough anymore. They use ransom money to buy arms, which they sell to terrorists and street gangs.” “Then why don’t you do something about it?” Pelley demanded. “Unfortunately, we’re hamstrung here. Our border leaks no matter how much we try to plug the holes. If Mr. Wright and his party have been taken to Mexico, the FBI will have a hell of a time getting them back. We always advise not paying the ransom but in this case that may be your only option. And our only way to locate the hostages.” Pelley leaned forward, a strained look on his face. “What do you mean? That they might not be returned? Can’t you just go in and get them?” He shook his head. “First of all, there are five major cartels in Mexico and all of them have been involved in kidnappings in the past year. We have to find a way to pinpoint which one we’re dealing with here. And that’s a lot harder than you might think.” “I don’t understand.” “If—and I say if—they’ve actually been taken to Mexico, the Mexican government has not been as cooperative in situations like this as we’d like them to be. The cartels 74
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own the government in Mexico, so we get no help there. And Uncle Sam won’t want his fingerprints on any international situation.” “So what happens then? We let them call all the shots? I’m not going to just throw up my hands. If we pay this ransom, we’ve got to be sure we get them back.” He glared at Delaware. “And you’re telling me the FBI—and maybe no other agency of my government—can assure me of a safe return?” “I’m just saying that there may come a time in this process where the Phoenix Agency may be the only people who can help you out. But that is absolutely a last resort, as far as I’m concerned.” He tucked his notebook away. “We don’t even have any idea where the hostages are being held. I can probably figure it’s not in San Diego or anywhere around here. Otherwise they’d be more specific about where and when the hostages would be returned.” “Would they get into that so soon?” Pelley sounded skeptical. “Wouldn’t they want to make sure they had the money first?” “Of course they would, damn it,” Delaware snapped. “That’s a stupid question. But they aren’t handling this as if it’s all local. Meanwhile, I’m going to get some people out here to set up equipment on both your office and cell phones before the next call comes in and your computer. And I’m also going to bring in the San Diego office. Give them a heads-up. That’s the last known location so we may as well get them involved right away.” He stood up, took his cell phone from his pocket and pushed one number. As he gave instructions on what he wanted, he stood over by the huge window overlooking the interstate. He hoped against hope that this didn’t all turn to shit, the way so many of these Mexico deals had recently. He didn’t want to be the one with Eli Wright’s blood on his hands. “All right.” He sat down again and crossed his legs. “What about your secretary?” Pelley looked puzzled. “What about her?” “I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring her in on this but if this goes on for more than a few hours, she’s going to wonder what the hell is going on in here.” “Joanne knows absolutely everything that goes on here,” he told them in a tight voice. “She’s not just my secretary she’s my gatekeeper. There’s no way she won’t find out what’s happening. And leaving her out could leave us vulnerable when we most need her.” Delaware stared at him a moment, then nodded. “As long as she understands that anything she sees or hears is strictly confidential. If she breaks that confidence I’d have to take her in.” “I’m telling you.” Pelley’s voice turned belligerent. “Joanne is the least of your problems.” “Fine. Now. Two men will be here in less than half an hour. Let’s hope your next call doesn’t come in before then. While we’re waiting, I’d like to go over this from the beginning again. From the moment Eli Wright made plans for this trip until this 75
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morning when the people from Phoenix showed up here. And you’ll need to copy that email to a disk for me.”
***** Kat thought she’d be sick when she saw the charred, twisted remains of the vehicles the Wrights and the security men had been using. The police had hauled them to an enclosed facility where crime scene techs were still going over them. While Mike talked to Detective Wagner and Mark took pictures of the cars with his phone, Kat stood at the side, taking in huge gulps of air, Faith’s steadying arm around her. “I know you feel badly about the security people,” Faith said, “but we can be grateful none of the Wrights or Mari were involved. And glad that young Len is going to recover.” “I know. But then where are they?” she cried. “I don’t sense them anywhere around here.” “I’m not completely sure how remote viewing works,” Faith told her. “Do you have to have a specific location to focus on, or can you focus on the people and get their location?” Kat shrugged. “It depends. Usually I have a place to start with and project my mind to wherever that is. Get a picture of the site or sites. Describe what I see.” “Okay then. What about this? Wherever they were taken, they had to leave from here. So if you focus on San Diego again, maybe you can get a picture of what happened. Or something that will give you a hint.” “That’s a good idea.” She rubbed her forehead. “As soon as we’re through here, maybe we can find someplace quiet and I can try.” “I think the first thing we need to do is check into a hotel,” Mike said, coming up beside her. “We won’t be leaving here today and I think we could all use some lunch.” He put his arm around Kat. “And you need to rest.” “As if I could until everyone’s safely back with us.” “But you won’t be able to help them if you’re sick,” he pointed out. “Come on. We’re finished here. Mark’s going to Wagner’s office with him to get copies of the report and talk to the arson investigator. The cars were destroyed by a bomb and we want to see if the pieces they found will tell us anything.” “But—” “But nothing. I’ll call him when we get checked in and he can take a cab there or Wagner can bring him back.” He looked at Faith. “That okay with you?” “Of course it is. Anything is fine. As long as we can make some progress.” “Come on, kitten.” Mike hugged Kat gently. “Time to get you away from this. I’ve got a favorite place I stay when I’m here,” he said as they pulled away from the impound yard where the bombed-out hulks of the cars were being held. “I like it
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because they have a full floor of suites. It means I don’t have to conduct business in my bedroom. And it has great room service.” “Oh Mike. I don’t think I could swallow a bite of food right now, I’m so worried and scared.” “Maybe some tea and toast then?” “Let’s get up to the room first. Then we can order something. I’d rather do that.” Faith took care of registering for herself and Mark, lifted the small bag she’d packed for them and turned toward the elevators. “I’ll be in our suite. Let me know if you hear from Mark before I do.” “Or you could just send him a message,” Mike grinned. The silent communication the Hallorans shared often was one of the agency’s best tools. She chuckled. “See you in a bit.” Mike filled out the registration slip for them, requesting a one-bedroom suite, and picked up his go-bag and Kat’s small suitcase. “I can carry my own luggage for heaven’s sake,” she protested. “I got it. Let’s go on upstairs.” As soon as they were inside the suite, Mike dropped their suitcases and pulled Kat into his arms. Holding her tightly against him. She wanted to collapse into his strength, to pull the warmth from his body and melt the block of ice that had taken up residence in her stomach. She was so afraid for her sister. “Kat? Honey.” He tipped her face up to kiss her but stopped at the sight of the silent tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh Mike. Those poor men. Those poor, poor men. What an awful way to die.” Pressing herself against him, she buried her face in his chest. She knew her tears were soaking his shirt but she couldn’t let go of his strength and the warmth that seeped into her. His hands stroked her hair and his lips touched her forehead. She wished she never had to move from this position. Releasing a shuddering breath, she pushed back a little, rubbing her wet cheeks with the heels of her hands. “Sorry,” she snuffled. “I’m just a mess. I need to pull myself together.” “Let it all out,” he told her. “Don’t keep it bottled up.” She smiled through her tears. “I’ll be okay in a minute. Just hold me some more.” “I’ll do more than that,” he said in a soft voice as his mouth came down on hers. How had she ever thought she could live without this, she wondered. The heat of his lips, the wet warmth of his tongue as it licked the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth for him and then she was lost in the magic sweetness and unbridled passion of the kiss. It was definitely still there, the incredible sexual pull, the lightning that struck
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them both. All the pent-up feelings they’d been storing for two years exploded in the one searing kiss. It was a long moment before they came up for air. “I’d better call Mark, check in with him.” Mike pulled out his cell phone. “He’ll catch a ride here,” he said when he clicked off. “No sweat. He’ll be here in about an hour so we’ve got a little down time. I’m going to order you something light to eat.” “After,” she told him. He frowned. “After what?” “After this.” She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him close so she could press her lips to his. Mark cupped her face, riding out the kiss with her then pulling his head back a little. “Kitten, your emotions have to be all over the place right now. I don’t know—” She pressed a finger to his lips. “I do know. More than food, more than sleep, more than anything I need you to make love to me. To give me the strength to get through this. To do what I have to do. I’ve never stopped loving you, Mike, and that’s what will help strengthen my gift so I can do my part. Please don’t make me beg.” “Never.” His voice was fierce. “I love you more than anything, Kat. And I’m going to show you just how much.” He had them both out of their clothes in seconds and carried her into the bedroom, his mouth fused to hers, his tongue sweeping inside. Kat knew some might think it was wrong of her to be doing this with her sister and the Wrights in danger, but she hadn’t lied to Mike. She needed him with a desperation she hadn’t known it was possible to feel. It was the only thing that was going to get her through the nightmare she was facing. Lying on her back with Mike pressed to her, body to body, she drew his heat into her. His thick cock pressed against her thigh, his hands cupped her breasts and again his mouth was feeding from hers. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, dragging his taste to mingle with hers. He maneuvered her so they were on their sides, his leg thrust between hers so his thigh pressed against her pussy. She moved her hips so she could rub her clit against his hard muscle while he pinched her nipples and tugged on them. She heard a low moan and realized it was hers, rising up from inside her as she desperately rubbed her clit against him, riding his thigh. That quickly the climax burst from her, shaking her, and she pressed herself hard against Mike’s leg. But no sooner had the spasms died down then he pushed her onto her back again and shifted so he could lift her to his mouth. She jerked at the electric contact of his tongue on her pussy, lapping her slit. He blew a warm stream of breath on her drenched folds and the inner walls of her cunt fluttered in response. Bending her legs, she pressed her feet flat on the bed and lifted herself so she was pressed closer to his mouth. He opened her labia like flower petals and thrust his
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tongue deep inside her, driving it in and out. As if her body had still been poised on high alert a second orgasm drove through her. Mike held her while she trembled with the spasm, but he never removed his tongue. Almost as soon as the pulsing subsided he began again, lightly biting her clit, the insides of her thighs, her pussy lips. He scooped her cream with a long, lean finger and dragged it down to her anus, pressing against the tight opening. When she arched up to him again he slowly pushed the finger inside and timed its movements with the stabbing of his tongue inside her. She rode his tongue and his finger, little cries of “Oh, oh, oh,” bursting from her. She fisted her hands in the sheets as the release built inside her yet again. She was nearly mindless now, the heat of erotic desire blasting away despair and tension. One last push of his tongue, one more press of his thumb on her clit, one deeper insertion of his finger in her ass and another orgasm shook her. And then, before she could catch her breath, Mike was sheathing himself, lifting her with his hands beneath her ass and driving himself home deep inside her. Kat opened her eyes to see his face above her, filled with an explosive combination of lust and love. Wrapping her legs around him, she arched up to him, feeling the huge thickness and heat of his cock. His eyes still locked with hers, he pumped into her, slow then fast, faster, his balls slapping against her ass. He pounded into her, the tip of his cock bumping the mouth of her womb each time, his thickness rubbing all the little nerves in the sensitive walls of her cunt. Until he finally took them both, shuddering and shaking, over the edge. “Think that did it?” Mike’s voice, when he could finally catch his breath, was still ragged but held a hint of amusement. She smiled back at him, completely limp and boneless. “And if I said no?” “I’d say you were telling a big fib.” He kissed her nose. “Your color’s a lot better. I’m calling room service. You may not be hungry but I can sure use some fuel.” She pressed her hands to his cheeks. “Thank you, Mike. I feel…better able to handle things now.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “Happy to help any time. And I mean that with all my heart.” She trailed a hand over his shoulder and down his arm. “Thank you, Mike. For everything. And now I think I need to get to work.”
***** As soon as the second three-way conference call had been completed, Rip picked up his secure cell and punched the speed dial for Nando. “Everything went exactly as you said with the FBI,” he told the man. “The basic message is they’ll do what they can but Mexico is a problem for them.” “As I told you.” Nando’s voice held the hint of a smile. “And this way everyone’s hands are clean. No one can point a finger and say you didn’t do everything possible.” 79
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“When you get the money, you’ll release the hostages, right?” Rip had begun to have a bad feeling about the situation. Now the laugh was loud and lusty, with the tinge of evil Rip had heard far too often. “We will do what the situation dictates.” “Don’t harm them.” Rip tightened his grip on the cell phone. “We made an agreement.” “Our agreement,” the man enunciated slowly, “was to arrange a situation where I could recover the money you owe me and you could put enough in your pockets to keep out of future trouble.” “Damn it, Nando.” Rip felt his gut tighten. “Just do as you’re told, make sure the others do the same and there will be no problems.” “Did you explain to them that they should not contact the people from the Phoenix Agency?” “Yes.” Rip ground his teeth. Did the man think he was a total idiot? “I made it very clear that if those people got in the way, all the hostages would probably be killed. And I was appropriately concerned about that. But that’s just for effect, right?” He wanted a definitive answer from the man. “It’s not something we want to do,” was all Nando said. Rip forced himself not to let his anger overtake him. How the hell had he gotten involved with a man as unstable as this one, anyway? But he knew the answer all too well. “When are you sending the email with the specific demands?” “Shortly. Have patience. The greater the anxiety we create, the easier and faster the payoff.” Rip snapped his cell phone shut and slammed it down on the desk. If this thing fell apart he could see his entire life going down the drain. “Shit!”
***** The Wrights and Mari had finished the second tray of tortillas and water. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a tortilla again,” Sydney said, trying to ease the tension by joking. “There’s a method in their madness,” Eli told them. “We don’t need any utensils to eat. No knives or forks. So no possible weapons.” That sobered everyone again and they fell into a tense silence. One by one they used the filthy bathroom, doing their best to touch things as gingerly as possible. Mari was making a valiant effort to help Eli keep his family from freaking out. Sydney was putting on a brave face but it was obvious she was hanging
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on by a thin thread. When Pedro had slapped her Mari could almost see her control fracture. They’d washed the slashing cut on her face as best as they possibly could but without antiseptic of any kind and in all the filth of the adobe hut, everyone was worried about infection. Mari scanned Lissa with an objective eye. She also was putting up a good front but this was a lot more than a seventeen-year-old should have to deal with. And Eli, doing his best to be stoic and comforting at the same time. Strain lined his face and his body was stiff with tension. They were in big trouble, everyone knew it and no one wanted to come right out and say it. Mari took Lissa’s hand and tugged her toward one of the corners. “Why don’t you come sit down with me and tell me all about what’s going on in school.” “School?” Lissa looked at her as if she was crazy. “You want to talk about school? Now?” “Your dad is going to figure out how to get us out of here and it won’t help him if anyone falls apart while he’s working on it. So let’s talk about something besides what’s going on right now.” She sat in the corner, legs drawn up, and pulled Lissa down with her. “Now. School. Classes and boys.” She finally got Lissa talking, although she literally had to pull the words from her. She looked up once and saw Eli throw a grateful glance in her direction. She smiled at him, trying to convey her confidence in his ability to handle this. Whatever this was. But even she knew Eli Wright wasn’t a miracle worker. And no one could rescue them if they didn’t know where they were. She let her mind wander away from Lissa’s recitation for a moment, thinking of Kat and wondering if mental telepathy also happened to be one of her sister’s gifts. She’d read a lot about remote viewing when Kat’s ability was discovered. Even gone to a couple of the training sessions with her to understand exactly what it was her sister could do. She knew in order to “view” something, Kat needed something to begin with—coordinates, an object, a person, a— A person! Kat, think of me. Picture me. Focus on me. You can do it. Mari concentrated as hard as she could, sending mental messages, hoping somewhere in Kat’s psychic makeup was a receptor that would pick it up. The slamming open of the door startled her out of her deliberation. Pedro again, in his now rather dirty fatigues and still brandishing the deadly looking gun. “Up. Everyone. More pictures.” Mari took her place in line quickly, squeezing Lissa’s hand to let her know it was going to be all right. Yeah, right. 81
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Pedro studied Sydney’s face, then cupped her chin with his massive hand and turned her head so the slash on her cheek was visible. “Good. They should know we mean business.” He looked at everyone else. “But not quite good enough.” He reached for Lissa, who let out a small scream. Mari stepped forward. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it to me,” she told him with a bravado she didn’t quite feel. “Do you need to hurt children too?” “Children?” Pedro leered at her. “She looks like a full-grown woman to me. But if you insist.” He raised his gun and Mari held her breath, waiting to feel a bullet slam into her. Instead it was the butt of the gun hitting the side of her head, stunning her and knocking her to the floor. Everything spun around her and she had to clench her teeth to keep from vomiting. “You bastard.” Eli’s voice was tight with anger. She felt his hand on her, reaching to help her up. “Leave her,” Pedro spat. “And if I were you I would not say another word, Señor Wright, or you could be the next victim. And then who would protect your women?” Someone—Enrique, she assumed—yanked her to her feet. She stumbled into place, gritting her teeth against the powerful surge of nausea and praying she wouldn’t fall down. She could already feel a bruise swelling on her temple. “All right,” Pedro said. “Just a few seconds of video and we’ll be all set.” Somehow she managed to stand in place until she heard the door slam shut, before crumpling to the floor. The last thing she heard before she passed out was Eli Wright’s concerned voice calling her name.
***** “I’m going to try Ron Pelley again. He should have called us by now.” Kat listened to Mike hold onto his temper while he spoke to Pelley but his frustration was growing and she didn’t blame him. If Pelley had nothing to do with the disappearance, why would he avoid them? Unless he’d gotten word it was a full-blown kidnapping and he was ducking them. A shiver of dread skated over her as she tried to push the thought away. She needed to try another remote session, this time using Mari’s picture to see what she could pick up. But Mike was right. She needed some nourishment in her first, along with the extra something in her tea. Right now she was too shaky to try anything. While Mike was still on the phone, she got up and fished hers out of her purse. Scrolling through the messages, she saw another half dozen from Brent. If this didn’t stop she would have to tell Mike about it. The one thing she had to contribute to the hunt for her sister and the Wrights was shaky because of the anxiety Brent was causing her.
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She put the phone down on the coffee table and sat back down on the couch. Just as Mike hung up on his call room service arrived. Giving her his crooked smile, he poured bourbon from the minibar into her tea and made sure she drank every bit of it. She dutifully ate a tuna sandwich while he worked on a hamburger and iced tea. “You know,” she said, setting down the empty cup, “I don’t think Mari and the Wrights are still in the San Diego area.” Mike raised his eyebrows. “Honey, we don’t know that. When Mark gets here we’ll find out what the local cops know but we have no clue as to who took them, much less where they are.” She ran her finger around the edge of the cup. “I know it doesn’t make sense but I just—” The knock at the door interrupted her. Mike touched a finger to his lips, pulled his gun from the small of his back and walked softly toward the door. “It’s us,” Mark called. “You can put away the hardware.” Mike replaced the gun and opened the door to let the Hallorans in. Mark sat in the big armchair while Faith went to sit beside Kat. Her eyes were full of questions but Kat dredged up a weak smile and mouthed, “It’s okay.” Kat turned away from them, picked up her phone and without making a big deal out of it, scrolled through the messages and missed calls again. Nothing from Mari. Too much from Brent. She could feel the strain of dealing with it sapping her energy and she couldn’t afford to let that happen. Tamping down her anger, she systematically highlighted and deleted every call from him. Then she snapped her phone shut. Damn him, anyway. What would it take for him to get the message? If her gift failed her because of the pressure of dealing with hi… No. She didn’t even want to think that way. Surely he’d give up soon. “What did you find out?” Mike asked. “I’ll give you the short version. The Wrights and Mari left the airport in a car driven by a young man who works for their San Diego office. The security team followed in another vehicle. No problems at lunch, apparently. The last anyone saw of them, they’d retrieved their vehicles and pulled away from the restaurant.” “Nothing suspicious?” Kat pushed. “Nothing that caught anyone’s eye?” “One of the two kids handling the valet parking thinks he remembers a black van and another car pulling into line behind them as they pulled away.” He shrugged. “But he can’t give us any kind of description. He wasn’t paying all that much attention.” “My best guess,” Mike said, “is that the van and the car followed and waylaid them. Someplace. Certainly not on the road where the SUVs were found but someplace out of the way.” “But then what?” Faith asked. “Don’t tell me the trail just stops there.”
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“I told Mike I don’t think Mari and the Wrights are in San Diego anymore. I know, I know,” she said as Mike started to argue with her again. “It’s just a…oh, call it a sense of feeling. I can’t be more specific than that.” Faith gave a little laugh. “You won’t get anyone in this room to argue about unexplained feelings. But do you have any idea where they might be?” “I told her we don’t even know who has them,” Mike repeated. “So how could we know where they are? And nobody I called is telling me anything. Damn,” he banged a fist on the table. “It’s almost as if they want us just to go away. Which doesn’t make sense. They know Kat’s worried about her sister.” “Nothing adds up here,” Mark put in, “unless it’s a kidnap for ransom and whoever got the message was told not to say anything.” Mike nodded. “Or is involved. We need to call Andy and see if he’s been able to hack into that video email.” “I’ll do it.” Mark flipped open his phone and pressed one speed dial number. “Yeah, Andy? You were? Good. Then I saved you the trouble. That must mean you have something. Uh-huh. Uh-huh Yeah. Damn. All right. Now that you’re in, I want to know the minute the next one comes through.” He disconnected the call. “He got something,” Mark guessed. “Yes. Wait until I tell you what it was. We were right about this. It’s definitely a kidnapping.”
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Chapter Eight Kat was glad Mike grabbed her arm to support her or she was sure she’d have fainted. He eased her down on the couch, poured the rest of the liquor from the tiny bottle into her cup and held it up to her. “Drink,” he ordered. “Now.” She swallowed it quickly, her eyes tearing as it burned her throat, but it chased away the jitters. “I want to know what your office said.” He told everyone what Andy had pulled from the email and what the video had shown. “So we know they’re all alive and unharmed. For the moment anyway.” “How did they look in the picture?” She wanted to know. “Could Andy see enough in the video?” Mike nodded. “He said they looked dirty and tired but otherwise okay. And now that Andy’s in Pelley’s system and Post’s, he can monitor for the next video email. I think that’s the one where we’ll find out how much they want. But here’s a kicker for you.” Mark frowned. “What?” “Andy tried to backtrack the link to find out who sent it but it’s anonymous and bounced all over the planet. He’s still working on it. But he then followed it forward to see everyplace it went. Guess who else got an email?” “Who?” “Rand Prescott. The guy whose house Eli was borrowing.” They all looked at each other. “I assume you told Andy to add Prescott to his list of people to dig into.” Mike nodded. “He said he’d call back in an hour. I just can’t figure out why he’d get the email too, unless he has something to do with all this.” “But why?” Faith broke in. “For what purpose? Surely he’s not behind something like this.” Mark ran his fingers through his hair. “Right now we’re guessing more than anything. And Detective Wagner didn’t have much more to add to what we already knew about yesterday. The San Diego police didn’t even know the Wrights had anything to do with the explosion, or that they and Mari are missing.” “What if the kidnappers know they’re beyond the reach of the federal government?” Mark said. Kat stared at him. “What do you mean by that?” 85
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The two men exchanged a look. A muscle twitched in Mike’s jaw. “It’s possible the hostages have been taken out of the country. Someplace where our government can’t reach them or get involved in the kidnapping.” “You’re kidding.” She suddenly felt as if she couldn’t draw a full breath. “Someplace like where?” “Okay,” Mike told her. “I have nothing to go on, so just call it a hunch but this doesn’t feel like a domestic action.” “I still don’t understand. Who would it be then?” Mike sat down next to her and took her hand. “Kitten, it’s entirely possible, with the border situation the way it is these days, that they’ve been taken by people from another country like Mexico and transported outside the United States. Even if the FBI is called in by Pelley or whoever, at least in the past few years Uncle Sam has chosen not to be involved in situations like this. It’s usually a no-win situation for them.” “Oh my god. You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But that brings up even more issues. Like, if they were taken to Mexico, who was the contact for the kidnappers? Because someone had to set them as the mark and help set this up.” “Dear lord.” Kat twisted her hands together to keep them from shaking. ”I sensed it, you know? That they had left the area. I couldn’t feel their presence, couldn‘t call up a picture. I just didn’t know why.” “Let’s see what Andy comes up with,” Mark said in a quiet voice. “He’s getting us everything he can on the three men involved and I’m sure we’ll be able to tell something from that.” “I’d like to try something,” Kat told them. “I have an idea.” “What is it?” Faith wanted to know. “Can I help?” “In some incidents of remote viewing, the viewer doesn’t have the location to fix on but the person. I have a picture of Mari.” She looked at Mike. “If you can find a picture of the Wrights on your laptop, any of you, and print it out, I can spread the pictures out on the table, focus on them and see if I can get an image of where they are.” “Will that work?” Mike asked. “I don’t know but I want to try.” “All right, let’s get the picture, then we’ll hit the FBI. Kat, you sure you’re okay doing this? You still seem a little shaky.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I want to try anything but I have to tell you something. My…gift has been a little on the fritz lately. I haven’t always been able to count on its reliability. Which is only ninety percent at best, and lately as low as eighty sometimes.”
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“Is there some specific reason?” He turned her to face him, his hands caressing his arms. Apparently he didn’t care if the Hallorans were aware of the changing nature of their relationship. “Is that why you went to see Faith’s aunt?” Kat nodded. “She gave me some meditation exercises to do, which have helped a little.” “I don’t suppose whatever’s interfering with your gift has anything to do with the calls you keep erasing from your cell phone, would it?” “It’s nothing,” she insisted. “But—” “But it’s enough to throw you out of kilter. Okay. Let me boot up the laptop and get those pictures sent. I can’t believe we stupidly left our little portable printer behind but there’s a business center on the second floor here. I can print them out there. Mark, while I’m downstairs you can try Pelley one more time. Then we’ll decide whether or not to call our federal friend.” “Got it covered.” It took scant minutes for Mike to Google the Wrights and get exactly what he wanted. He saved it to a flash drive and closed his laptop. “I want to go with you,” Kat said, afraid to be away from him now for even a moment. More messages had been left by Brent and they gave her a very unsettled feeling. She knew she shouldn’t wait to tell Mike but she wanted to get this taken care of first. “Kitten, you’ll be perfectly safe right here with Mark and Faith. And you’ll have some time to compose yourself.” “Please,” she pleaded. “Just…take me with you.” He studied her face carefully. Whatever he saw made him nod his head. “Okay.” He bent to brush a kiss against her cheek and whisper in her ear, “But later we will discuss whatever this problem is that’s getting in the way of your concentration. Make no mistake.” As they passed Mark on the way out of the room, he was punching buttons on his cell and mouthing, “Calling Pelley now.”
***** Rip paced back and forth, checking his cell phone every few minutes. He had reached the conclusion the process was flawed and would lend suspicion rather than deflect it but Nando wouldn’t listen to him and now the die was cast. But he knew why Nando had done it. When the phone rang in his hand he was so startled he almost dropped it. He looked at the screen and saw the text message scrolling across—Go to computer, check next message. He had his laptop open and was logged in. Sure enough, the email was there. He clicked on the video icon attached to it and the snippet of video began to play at once. 87
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At the sight of the picture, nausea rose in his throat. The long cut on Sydney’s face and the bruise on Mari Culhane’s temple were signs of exactly what he’d feared. The men who worked for Nando were addicted to cruelty the way some men were hooked on drugs. He hoped this was the worst that would happen. At the end of the video was a shot of the message, Ten million dollars. You will be contacted with further instructions. Then everything disappeared. Ten million dollars. Would that even be possible in a short period of time? Whatever, it would have to be done. There were sources he could tap into to get this done. He just hoped he could be quick enough about it. Rip collapsed into an armchair, feeling sweat pop out on his forehead. He’d have to call the others. He was sure they’d gotten the same message and contact would be expected. Right now he just wanted to get the money together and reassure himself that everyone would be returned safely. Alive. And that he would be rid of Nando forever.
***** The limo carrying Brent Fontaine pulled up under the covered entrance to the hotel and the driver jumped out to open the door for him. One of the perks of having unlimited financial resources, he mused, was not having to deal with the hassle of cabs or ride in vehicles contaminated by the general public. He nodded at the uniformed men who opened the double glass doors into the lobby for him, his driver behind him carrying his small suitcase and his laptop. He could have stayed in other, more opulent places but he liked the quiet elegance of this particular hotel and the fact that it had an entire floor of suites. The service was excellent and it had all the electronic hookups he needed to conduct his business. Tomorrow he would meet with one of the fund’s biggest clients, sucking another million dollars out of him to invest. He was irritated to discover he’d left the copies of the proposals sitting on his desk in his office. His secretary could fax them to him but then they’d look like what they were. Bad copies. With this client everything had to be top of the line. Then he remembered this place had an entire floor equipped with anything the business traveler might need. He’d call his office, have his secretary email him the color pdf file, and run it off on the business center’s high-quality printer. Then he could get through tomorrow’s meetings. As he waited at the desk to check in, he pulled out his cell phone and punched her speed dial number one more time. Voice mail. As usual. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Tonight he had a date with a bottle of fifty-year-old single malt Scotch. Then tomorrow, after he completed his business, he’d head back to Florida and his hunt for
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Katherine Culhane. As each hour passed without a response to his calls or information on her whereabouts, his anger grew incrementally. When he got his hands on that bitch, he’d show her just who was in control and who called the shots. She’d never walk out on anyone like that again.
***** “Ten million dollars?” Anthony Delaware raised his eyebrows as he read the latest email, then looked at Ron Pelley. He had returned to the offices of Wright International just as the techs he’d asked for finished setting up their equipment on both Pelley’s cell phone, his desktop computer and his laptop, barely in time to catch the latest messages. “Can you get that much together? Is Wright International worth that kind of money?” “He doesn’t flaunt it,” Pelley told him, “but he’s worth close to fifty million. Not all of it liquid, of course. And the company ten times that.” “Try sending an email back to them. Hit reply and type a message saying you’ll need time to get the money together.” “But—” “Just do it for god’s sake.” Pelley hit the Reply key, typed the message and hit Send. Immediately they got a bounce-back message saying the message was undeliverable. “Damn,” Delaware swore. “They’ve blocked you so all the messages can only go one way.” Pelley was rolling a pen back and forth on his desk, not looking at the agent. “So now what?” “You can access the company funds, right?” Pelley flipped the pen around and began doodling on the small memo pad, avoiding Delaware’s eyes. “I have the authority to tap into different company accounts and pull out money if necessary. However, that kind of transaction is usually authorized by Eli himself.” “But you can do it if you have to, right?” the agent pushed. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have targeted you to provide the ransom.” “Yeah, I can do it.” Pelley still didn’t look up from his desk. Delaware felt something skitter across his backbone, a funny sensation that Pelley was hiding something from him. “Is there something else you’d like to tell me, Mr. Pelley? You seem a little…hesitant about something. If you’ve left out anything we need to know, now would be a good time to tell me.” Pelley tossed the pen down onto the desk. “Okay. I wasn’t sure how to tell you this, or what you’d think. Two other people got the same email that I did. Ryan Post, Sydney
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Wright’s brother, and Rand Prescott. He’s a partner with Eli in some of his major business deals and it’s his house the Wrights were supposed to be staying in.” Delaware gritted his teeth but held onto his composure. It never did any good to lose your temper in situations like this but he wanted to reach across the desk and throttle the man. Who knew how much time they’d lost by not focusing on these other men too? “Why am I just hearing about this now?” he demanded. “And why haven’t either of them called the FBI?” “We contacted each other when the first emails came in, discussed it and decided it would be more logical for me to be the one to contact you. And better if you only dealt with one person.” “I see.” The agent walked over to the window and looked down at the cars speeding by below. “I’m not sure that’s such a good decision. This could change the entire picture. What if the kidnappers decide to deal with the brother next? Or Prescott? Leaving us out of the loop means the kidnappers could make their next move and we’d be unprepared to handle it.” He heard Pelley’s chair scrape as it was pushed back from the desk. “I don’t see how. What difference does it make anyway?” “It brings other people into play, gives these people another source of communication that isn’t monitored. And it means the kidnappers may not trust you to get the full amount of money for them that they’re asking for. They’re hedging their bets.” He studied the other man. “We need to get trap and trace setups up at their places too, on their phones and computer.” “Is that necessary?” Pelley looked up at him. “We hoped that you’d agree to deal just with me.” “Not if the kidnappers decide to focus on one of the others. Listen, Pelley.” He didn’t feel the need to use Mister any longer. The man was an idiot and a sneak. “In a case like this, everything is important. Everything. Assuming you really want to get the hostages back.” “Of course I do,” Pelley exploded. “What kind of comment is that?” “A very natural one, considering the circumstances. What if whoever this is decides to contact just one of you next time? Which one will it be? Why? And will he contact the others and let you know what’s happening?” “I’ll do anything to resolve this,” Pelley snapped. “Got it?” “Fine. Then you’ll have to give me their locations right now so I can get crews over there right away.” He pulled out his cell. “One good thing. It gives us three times the opportunity to figure out who these people are and where these messages are coming from.” Pelley scribbled the information on a sheet of paper and handed it to Delaware. “What about the people from the Phoenix Agency? What happens with them? How do
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you plan to keep them from sticking their noses into this? Maybe screwing everything up?” Again Delaware kept himself under control, aware that there was some real concerns about the Phoenix involvement but he wasn’t about to let Pelley know how he felt. The last thing they needed right now was a civilian mercenary agency butting into this, especially people like Phoenix who answered only to themselves. And unfortunately were damn good at what they did. The worst part of it was, in the end they might be the only ones who could get results. “Like I said before,” he answered, “let’s wait and see if they call again.” “And if they don’t? You can’t just assume they’ll leave us alone. They have a personal interest in this.” Delaware’s control frayed. “I think you can count on me to do my job, Pelley. You just take care of your own business. And be very sure you don’t keep anything else from me.” Seething and trying to get himself under control, he stepped into the outer area and called his office, asking for his second-in-command. “How are you guys coming with getting me a file on Pelley? Good. The sooner the better. You can add two more names to it. Ryan Post and Rand Prescott. It seems they got the same emails. What? Yes, the jackass thought it wasn’t important to let me know about that. I want everything you can get on them. Their history, their financials, if they have a mole on their butts. Here are the locations Pelley gave me for them.” He read off the information. “I want an agent sitting with each one and taps on phones and computers. Get a warrant signed ASAP.” He listened for a moment. “Right. I want to know every single move they make from here on in. Good. Call me back as soon as you have it set up.” He shoved his phone back into its holster on his belt. Damn it to hell anyway. Something definitely smelled about this whole setup but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Ron Pelley controlled himself with superhuman effort. This had been such a stupid idea, to involve all three of them, and he’d been very vocal in expressing his opinion to everyone. He was the logical person to receive the ransom request. He was the logical person to be the contact. He’d argued and argued about letting the Feds know all three had been contacted but he was overridden. Now, because of this stupidity, the FBI would be crawling all over not one but three places, tripping over their own feet and probably endangering everyone and everything at the same time. He couldn’t believe how badly he wanted a drink. What a mess this whole situation was. Anthony Delaware had to speak to him twice before he was even aware of the words. “Excuse me?” He looked up at the agent. “I asked you if you’d figured out yet where you were going to get the money from. And if necessary, if you could get your hands on Eli Wright’s assets to pay the ransom.” 91
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“I’d need the account numbers and locations,” he said. “I don’t get involved in his personal finances.” “How will you justify pulling that much money out of Wright International? Don’t you have officers and stockholders that you’re accountable to?” Delaware persisted. Pelley nodded. “Yes but I certainly don’t have time to get in touch with all of them. Right now I just want to pull the funds out. Eli can replace them when we get him back. The problem is, very little is liquid. We have to convert a lot of things and I’ve already started that process.” With a lot of flak from the banks and the accountants. They demanded an explanation and he couldn’t give it to them. What a freaking mess this all was. “If these are experienced kidnappers—and I have a feeling they are—they’ll know that and allow for the time.” He grunted his displeasure. “Let’s just hope they don’t decide to do any more damage to their hostages while they’re waiting.” Pelley felt the sick feeling rise in him again. He was pacing the floor when his cell phone rang. For a moment he just looked at the offending instrument lying on his desk, almost afraid to find out who was on the other end. “Well?” Delaware asked. “Aren’t you going to answer it? What if it’s the kidnappers?” Reluctantly Pelley snatched the phone up, flipped it open and looked at the caller ID. He recognized the number as one written on the back of the Phoenix Agency card. It was almost as if his question to the FBI agent had called them up. Shit. No, double shit. Swallowing a sigh, he pushed Talk. “This is Pelley.” “Mark Halloran here. I was just wondering if you’d received any more information on where the Wrights and Mari Culhane have disappeared to.” Pelley held the phone to his chest, looked at Delaware and mouthed the words Mark Halloran from Phoenix. Delaware held out his hand. “I’ll talk to him.” “Pelley?” Mark repeated impatiently. “You there?” He heard the shuffling sound of the phone being handed to someone else, then a strange voice came on. “Who am I speaking to?” Mark held the phone out, stared at it, then put it back to his ear. What the hell? “Who am I speaking to?” “This is Anthony Delaware, Special Agent in Charge of the San Antonio, Texas FBI office. Want to tell me who you are?”
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Mark didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry. So Pelley had called in the Feds. Nice of him to let them know. “Mark Halloran of the Phoenix Agency. I’m going to assume Ron Pelley has told you of our interest in this case and why.” “Yes. You have a friend whose sister was traveling with the Wrights.” Delaware paused. “I’m guessing your friend still hasn’t heard from her sister?” “That’s correct.” Mark ground his teeth with impatience. “We’re obviously concerned. I’ve tried to get information from Ron Pelley but he doesn’t seem to be very forthcoming.” “There’s a good reason for that.” Another pause. “I’ll be frank with you, Mr. Halloran. We have a…situation here.” “A situation,” Mark repeated. “Care to tell me exactly what kind?” “First I need your assurance that you won’t interfere with anything that’s going on. The safety of the people involved is the most important thing.” “Goddamn it!” Mark exploded. “Are you going to tell me what the hell this is about or do I have to go over your head and rattle some cages?” The pause this time was even longer and Mark could hear hushed conversation in the room. “All right.” Delaware was back. “Fine. In a nutshell, the Wrights and Miss Culhane have been kidnapped.” “Kidnapped.” Mark repeated the word softly, his body tensing. Bloody hell. “Do you even know if the hostages are still alive?” “We’ve had proof of life and now a ransom demand. But we need to handle this as delicately as possible. Which means you backing off and leaving it in the hands of the FBI.” Mark forced himself to breathe evenly. “No offense, Agent Delaware, but I think we’ve had as much experience in this as you have. This proof of life. Does it show them unharmed? And is there any sign of where they’re being held?” “They seem to be okay right now.” Mark didn’t like Delaware’s cautious tone. “We don’t know as yet where they’re being held but we’re working on it.” “Working on it,” Mark repeated. “Well, isn’t that just dandy. Can you email me the notes Pelley received?” “I don’t think that would be a good idea. You need to let us work this from our end. I promise we’ll keep you in the loop.” He lowered his voice. “I can take this upstairs just as well as you can,” he warned. “My bosses don’t like outside interference.” “Except when they can’t get the job done themselves,” Mark spat at him. “Mr. Pelley tells me he has your phone numbers. I promise to keep you up to date.” “How much are they asking for?” Mark demanded. “Ten million dollars.”
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For a minute Mark forgot to breathe. “That’s a hell of a lot of money. Can Pelley get his hands on it?” “He says he can but he’ll need a little time.” Mark gripped the cell phone so hard it almost cut into his hand. “A little time. Those people may not have a little time. Do you have a deadline yet?” “No but we should hear from them before long with that information. Mr. Halloran, I need to get off the telephone now. I promise we’ll keep you informed.” Mark realized he was listening to dead air. “Hell and damnation.” He pressed the speed dial button for Andy. “Have you got those emails decoded yet? I need them now. No, make that five minutes ago.”
***** “The business floor setup is for maximum privacy,” Mike told Kat as they left the elevator. “Instead of one large room for everyone to crowd into, they have several small rooms, each one identically outfitted. That’s why so many high-profile business people use this place. It caters to what they need.” “I’ll bet it’s pretty pricey,” she commented. “But worth the money. I got a key card for one of the rooms when we checked in, just in case. I never know when I might need their equipment.” He slid the key card into the slot, waited for the light to turn green and pushed open the door, entering the room a few steps ahead of Kat. Neither of them had noticed the man who exited one of the other elevators, headed down the hall and stopped, his face a mask of shock and rage. They didn’t hear his soft footsteps on the rug either. In fact, neither of them was aware of his presence in the room with them, as focused on their errand as they were, until Kat felt a fist grab her hair and yank her backward. The sharp pain brought tears to her eyes and a scream burst from her mouth. “Mike!” She backpedaled as the man dragged her toward him. “Mike, help.” “I’ve got you now, you little bitch.” His voice had a vicious—and familiar—sound to it. “You can’t imagine how sorry you’re going to be, running out the way you did and then avoiding me.” At the sound of Kat’s cry, Mike spun on his heels. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of the big man practically yanking Kat’s hair out of her head, the fury in his eyes and the fear in Kat’s. Then he shifted into automatic, moving without even thinking, his reflexes taking over. One leg flew up, catching the man at a painful spot in the elbow, then his hand drove into the man’s throat. Shocked with pain, Brent Fontaine released his grip on Kat, dropped his briefcase and backed up to the wall, gagging. “Who the hell are you?” His voice sounded like it was scraping over raw concrete.
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Mike had immediately put Kat behind him and now stood nose-to-nose with Fontaine. She knew his relaxed attitude belied the tense readiness of his body. “The bigger question,” Mike said, “is who the hell are you?” “Why don’t you ask that whore behind you?” He was struggling to get out every word, his hands still massaging his throat. Mike took two steps closer and closed his big fist on Fontaine’s throat, brushing his hands aside as if they were wisps of cloth. “You watch your mouth if you want to keep breathing. Kat, who is this animal? Do you know him?” “His name is Brent Fontaine.” Kat forced the words out, her hands rubbing the spot on her head where her hair had been yanked. “You know him?” Kat was afraid for a moment she would faint. Then she almost wished she would. She clenched her trembling hands into fists and shoved them in the pocket of her slacks. Finally, after three tries, she managed to speak. “Unfortunately, yes.” She cleared her throat, then said again, louder, “Yes. I know him.” “Is he the guy leaving you all those messages that upset you so much? The ones you didn’t want to tell me about?” “Of course she didn’t tell you,” Fontaine croaked. Without taking his eyes off Fontaine, Mike said, “Call Mark and get him down here right now. Take my phone and press three. That connects directly to him.” Her hands were shaking so badly it took her two tries to get the phone out and press the button. Then all she could say was, “Mark? We’re in Room Four on the business floor. Come quickly.” Fontaine was still struggling against Mike’s hold. ”She certainly ran fast enough from my bed to yours, the slut,” he rasped. “Whoever the hell you are, you got yourself a bad bargain.” Mike shifted his arm so his forearm lay firmly across the man’s throat, the thumb and forefinger of the other hand pinching hard on a pressure point where the shoulder and neck joined. “If I were you I would just shut the fuck up before someone crushed my vocal cords.” Fontaine’s face twisted in pain and rage. As he tried to croak out a response a knock sounded on the door. “Me,” Mark called from the hall. Kat hurried to let him in. Mark entered, gun in hand, Faith right behind him. His eyes quickly assessing the situation, Mark positioned himself on the other side of Fontaine while Faith put her arm around Kat and drew her away from the men.
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“This jackass giving you a problem?” Mark asked his partner in a deceptively low voice. “Not me. Kat.” “His name is Brent Fontaine,” Kat finally got the words out, both terrified and humiliated by the whole situation. She’d hoped to be able to tell this to Mike in the privacy of their room, not blurt it out this way in front of Mark and Faith. “I-I…dated him for a while.” She saw Brent open his mouth to try to comment but Mike pressed more firmly against the man’s windpipe. She was grateful for Faith’s arm around her and the woman’s obvious support. “Can you tell us about it?” she asked Kat in a soft voice. Kat swallowed hard, tightening her fists in her pockets even more. God, how did she get herself into things like this? “Mike, I…” “It’s okay, Kat.” Mike’s voice was quiet, in contrast to the obvious anger tightening his body. “It’s my fault too. Just get it out so we can decide what to do with this sack of shit.” “I met him at a party in Tampa after Mike and I…after we…that is… He was very charming and persistent. I…went out with him for a while, trying to forget…” She stopped. “Don’t worry about me, kitten,” Mike said. “I know right where you were at. Go on.” “But after a while I felt suffocated. He insisted I stop seeing my friends, spend all my free time with him. We went places he chose, did things he wanted to do.” She dropped her head. “Yes, I slept with him and I’m not very proud of it. I was just, you know, vulnerable.” Faith gave her an encouraging squeeze. “Then I woke up one morning and discovered I was letting him destroy me. I wrote a note telling him not to call me anymore, left his condo, went home and took a shower that lasted until the hot water ran out.” She sighed. “I was supposed to meet him, and leaving him with his bare face hanging out in front of his friends ignited his short fuse. I guess he just doesn’t want to take no for an answer. Mike, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.” “Nothing to be sorry about,” he told her. “The whole thing was my mess, not yours.” “Nobody walks out on me,” Fontaine croaked. “I swore I’d make her pay and I intend to. You people don’t know what you’re involved with here.” Mike pressed harder on Fontaine’s windpipe. “What part of shut up don’t you understand? Mark, why don’t you call our friend Detective Wagner and tell him we have some trash for him to take out.” “Just a minute here,” Fontaine gargled. “Do you know who you’re dealing with?” 96
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“Yeah,” Mike snarled. “A very undesirable person.” Katherine was forcing herself to take deep breaths to steady herself but she couldn’t seem to stop her body from trembling. “Brent, I have to know. Did you follow me here?” “Follow you?” He was having a hard time getting the words out with Mike’s arm still threatening to crush his windpipe. “Don’t flatter yourself. But Fate delivered you to me just as it was meant to be. You should have answered my phone calls.” “That’s it.” Mike pressed his arm harder and Fontaine’s face turned purple. “Mike.” Kat broke away from Faith and tugged at Mike’s arm. “Stop. He’s not worth it.” “Wagner’s on the way,” Mark said, snapping his phone shut. “He’s coming himself. He asked me if we thought this asshole is involved in our other situation.” Kat watched Brent’s face fade from purple to pasty white at the announcement that the police were coming. “Wait a minute. Just wait a minute.” As Mike loosened his arm slightly, Fontaine dragged air into his lungs. He was still pinned to the wall but he was able to breathe better. “When the police get here, you’ll be sorry you called them. This is between Katherine and me. Who the hell are you people anyway? I’ll sue you for every dime you’ve got.” “Oh I don’t think so,” Mark drawled. “Who we are is people you don’t want to tangle with.” He grabbed a sheet of plain paper from one of the printers and wrote in big letters Out of Order. Tearing a strip off the scotch tape holder on the counter, he opened the door and taped the sign to the outside. “Okay, Mike. Sit him down in that chair over there. And you, Fontaine, don’t move if you want to live another minute.” Brent was deposited in the chair, still babbling, and pushed into a corner, Mark standing next to him. Mike grabbed Kat and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His lips brushed her hair and he made soothing noises to her. “It’s all right, kitten. It’s all taken care of.” She still couldn’t stop trembling. “Mike, I’m so ashamed and embarrassed…” “Hey, hey, hey.” He pulled his head back and brushed his lips against hers. “If I hadn’t taken off the way I did none of this would have happened. Blame me but not yourself. Okay?” “Do you really think he has anything to do with…what’s happening?” “I don’t know who you men think you are,” Fontaine croaked from the corner, “but you’re going to be sorry you ever met me.” Kat turned from the cradle of Mike’s arms and looked at him. “No sorrier than I am at having met you,” she told him. “I think we already told you to shut up,” Mark said in a deceptively casual voice. “You should take that advice. Now sit there and don’t move.”
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Kat was glad that Mike had subdued Brent to the point where he could do little else. Otherwise he would have been charging them like a raging bull. This was not a man who took anything like this lightly. His pride and his ego were more important to him than anything. She’d discovered that much too late. The knock on the door startled all of them. Mark pulled his gun from the small of his back and held it at his side as he called, “Who’s there?” “Detective Wagner. Someone in there call for trash pickup?” Brent Fontaine’s eyes had bugged out at the sight of the gun. As soon as Wagner was inside the room, he said, “Are you from the police? Arrest these men! They attacked me.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. We’ll sort it out.” He looked at Mark. “So what’s the deal here?” “I think I can help you there.” As concisely as possible, Mike explained the situation, never taking his arms from around Kat. “A stalker, huh?” Wagner gave Fontaine a nasty look. “My wife had a stalker once. I have a very special place in hell for men like that.” He looked at Mark again. “You think he has anything to do with the kidnapping?” “Kidnapping!” Fontaine tried to push himself up from the chair. Katherine saw his face turn pale. “Now just a damn minute here. I don’t know anything about a kidnapping. I just wanted to teach this bitch a lesson.” “He could have done something like this as payback,” Mike suggested. “I’m willing to bet he has the resources to do it.” Fontaine made another effort to rise but Mark pushed him back in the chair. “I might agree with you on that.” “I don’t know anything about a damn kidnapping,” Fontaine squeaked. “I want my rights here.” He glared at Wagner. “I could have your badge for this.” Wagner stared at him a moment, then pulled open the door and waved in a uniform cop who’d been waiting. He pointed to Fontaine. “Cuff that man and take him out to the car. If he gives you any lip, stuff your handkerchief in his mouth. Take him down the back way to where the car’s parked.” After a few frantic minutes a cursing Brent Fontaine was shackled and removed, his threats still echoing in the hallway as the two men moved toward the rear elevator. “Now.” Wagner looked at each of them in turn. “Let’s figure out if this guy’s vindictiveness is strong enough for him to pull off the kidnapping for revenge.” “I don’t think he’d do that,” Kat said hurriedly. “Brent would be more about oneon-one revenge.” She rubbed her head where he’d grabbed her hair. “He likes to inflict pain very personally.” She avoided the questioning look in Mike’s eyes, knowing he’d want every detail from her later. A conversation she wasn’t looking forward to. But it was finally out in the open, a burden that had lifted considerably. 98
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“It won’t hurt to see what we can get out of him anyway.” Wagner opened the door. “I’ll call you later and give you an update. Miss Culhane, do you want to file a complaint against him?” “Yes, she does,” Mike answered for her. “Mike and I will discuss it, detective.” “Okay. I can hold him for forty-eight hours anyway. Make him uncomfortable enough so he’ll think twice about pulling the same stunt again.” “Now,” Mike said when Wagner was gone, “let’s get that picture printed out. Kat, you think you can be calm enough to do this?” “I have to try. With Brent out of the way I won’t have to worry about him interfering with my thoughts.” “Okay then. Let’s do it.”
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Chapter Nine The three men were having another conference call and it was a toss-up which of them was suffering the most anxiety. With the FBI now watching all of them, they’d each retreated to their respective restrooms, returning the first call and waiting until they were all connected. It had been hell constantly switching telephones, using throwaways and having to send the numbers encrypted to each other. But with the FBI monitoring everything they couldn’t afford to take chances. “I don’t know what you two are bitching about,” Pelley said. “I’m the one who’s in the middle of all this.” “Yeah?” Ryan Post’s voice was scratchy from lack of sleep. “Well, I got a call not half an hour ago that some agent would be at my doorstep any minute to ask me what I knew about my sister’s whereabouts. Now I’ve got not just him but someone hooking up tracers to all my communications equipment. Personal and business. I thought these guys were supposed to be discreet? Not make themselves so visible?” “Ryan, for god’s sake.” Pelley was exasperated. “They’re going to talk to anyone they can to see what information they can come up with. Anyway, it’s not as if they’re taking out a full-page ad in the newspaper.” “I got a call too,” Rand Prescott chimed in. “They tracked me down through my secretary and now they’re all over me. Listen, the best thing we can do is just cooperate and tell them we know nothing. That way our hands are clean.” “I’m just glad I’m not the one whose office they’re sitting in,” Post whined. “Right. We all agreed you’d be the front man, Ron, and the logical point of contact. That way you can keep us informed of everything that’s going on. So why did you get us involved?” “Because if they found out on their own, we’d be in bigger trouble. And we’d all look bad. We talked about this, remember?” “I just wish to hell they’d tell us how to handle the ransom and this whole thing would be over with,” Post complained. “And your sister back safely,” Pelley added. “Yeah, yeah. Of course.” “Well, we have one more little problem to deal with.” “What?” Prescott was startled. “What the hell else could possibly happen?” “The people from the Phoenix Agency are sticking their noses into this thing because of Mari Culhane. Her sister’s having a fit.” “Phoenix? Who the hell are they?” Post asked, a bewildered tone in his voice.
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“Some people you don’t want to meet on a dark night,” Pelley told him. “The closest thing to a mercenary agency you’ll find. Except they also do black ops jobs for Uncle Sam. And they’re called in when the government has a situation it can’t handle. They’re all ex-military.” “Hell.” Ryan spit out the expletive. “We can’t let them start poking their noses into everything. All three of us have things we’d rather they not bring to light. Right?” The others agreed with him. “The FBI will take care of them.” Prescott’s voice was confident. “They’re very territorial and they don’t like freelancers invading their area.” “I don’t know. These guys are…different.” “Quit worrying,” Prescott snapped, “and get the money together. If you need help with that, let me know. Just be ready for the next email.” When they disconnected the call, two men sat back in their chairs, trying to ignore the anxiety gripping them. The third smiled at the ease with which the others were being played, yet at the same time had his own worries to deal with. If Nando took it in his crazy head to kill the hostages, they were all screwed.
***** Kat was still trembling when they all walked back into the suite she and Mike were sharing. “Kitten, you have to eat something more,” Mike insisted. “That sandwich wasn’t big enough to fill a cavity. You’ll never be able to get through a remote viewing session if you’re not at full strength.” “At least Brent Fontaine won’t be bothering you anymore,” Faith pointed out. “Thank god for that.” Kat blew out a breath, “That’s the truth.” She looked at Mike. “I know I should have told you about him before but we had just connected again after all this time and I wasn’t sure—” “Hush.” He smiled at her. “We can talk about it later. And let’s see what Wagner finds out about him too. Meanwhile let me order you some dessert or something, take a minute to relax and then we’ll lay out the pictures and see what happens.” “Message from Andy,” Mark told them. He’d been checking his cell while they talked. “What’s up?” he asked into the phone. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Holy shit. Okay. Send them to Mike’s laptop. It’s already set up. Do it now.” Three sets of eyes turned to him. “Give,” Mike said. “Andy cracked the code on the emails sent to the three men. He said…” He stopped and looked at Kat.
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“Tell me,” she demanded. “I don’t care how bad it is. It’s worse not knowing anything.” Mike put an arm around her and pulled her tight against his body. “Okay, here it is. There was video with each email showing the Wrights and Mari. They were holding a newspaper so the date was visible. The first message told them the hostages were unharmed and to watch for the next email.” “They’re alive.” Kat couldn’t hide her relief. “Thank god for that.” But then she saw the tight look on Mark’s face. “That’s not all, is it? There’s more. You can tell me, Mark.” “The second video showed them but this time…” He stopped, then started again. “This time Sydney Wright had a long cut on her face and Mari sported a wide bruise on her temple.” Kat leaned into Mark, determined not to show any weakness. Whatever it was, Mari was strong and would hang on until Phoenix could rescue them. “What did the second message say?” Mike asked. “They want ten million cash. Watch for the next email with instructions.” “You can bet they won’t ask to have it dropped off in a large suitcase. They’ll want a wire transfer and that may be what leads us to them.” Mark dropped his phone on the small table. “Possibly, if Andy is ready to track it. He tried tracing the email back by hitting Reply and trying to send them a message but it just bounced back. I think they’re shutting it down on the other end once the email gets through. But I say we need to find them before the ransom drop. We have no assurances that…” Again he paused. “That they won’t kill the hostages,” Kat finished for him. “I’m well aware of that, Mark. And I’m going to do what I can to help you pinpoint their location.” She turned to Mike. “But I have to clear my mind or I won’t be able to focus so I’m going to take a hot shower. Steam always relaxes me. And I need a sugar rush. Please order me a gooey dessert and a thick chocolate shake.” She gave him a tired smile. “I’ll be able to do this. Really. I will.” She turned on her heel and headed to the bedroom. “Well, she’s no shrinking violet,” Mark commented with a hint of a grin. “You can count on that,” his partner said. “I’d say she’s got strength she hasn’t even tapped yet,” Faith commented. “Mike, how on earth did you ever let her get away before?” Mike dropped into one of the big armchairs. “Because I was stupid. Idiotic. Out of my mind.” “And too wrapped up in your playboy image, right?” Mark accused, softening the words with a smile.
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“You got it. I’d been running so fast I didn’t realize I’d already gotten to where I was heading.” “You are so lucky she’s giving you another chance,” Faith pointed out. “Yeah but this little episode we’re involved in helped it along. I took her to dinner last night and I don’t know when I would have heard from her again if this hadn’t happened.” “Speaking of which,” Mark said, “should we jog our friend Mr. Pelley again and see what we can pry out of him, or is that a bad idea?” “He’s got the FBI all over him,” Mike reminded him, “and Special Agent Anthony Delaware doesn’t seem to want our company. I say let Andy monitor everything in cyberspace while we work things from our end.” “You don’t really think Brent Fontaine had anything to do with this, do you?” Faith wanted to know. Mike shook his head. “No. I just wanted to rattle his cage good so he’ll leave Kat alone. And I want to see what Andy digs up on him too.” “Speaking of which.” Mark was standing by the laptop, watching the screen. “Four emails from Andy. I’m going to pull them up and see what he sent.” The first two were copies of the emails sent to Pelley and the others. Faith couldn’t help the tiny gasp that escaped when she saw the photos. “Oh my god.” Her voice reflected the horror she was looking at. “Oh Mark.” She moved close to her husband who wrapped an arm around her. “Let’s see what else Andy sent,” Mike interjected, “and get it all out in the open before Katherine comes back in the room.” “I wish we’d brought the portable printer with us,” his partner told him. “I can’t believe we were stupid enough to leave it behind. I’ll go out a little later and pick one up. Meanwhile, save everything to the flash drive and I’ll go downstairs and print it all out.” The other emails held all the details they’d asked for on Ron Pelley, Ryan Post and Rand Prescott, as well as what Andy had been able to pull up quickly on Brent Fontaine. Mike sat at the table, scrolling through each document. “Well, there’s plenty of bad blood between Sydney Wright and her brother,” he commented. “Their wealthy parents left them each enormous trust funds but Ryan Post doesn’t seem to have managed his very well. And his spas seem to be more of a financial drain than a thriving business. There’s a little item here about a very public fight brother and sister had at a party where he asked her and Eli for a substantial loan and they turned him down.” “In public?” Mark couldn’t hide his surprise. “Yup. Apparently he hadn’t been able to talk to them in private, he was drunk at this party and made quite a scene.” “What else?” 103
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“Rand Prescott is listed as a millionaire speculator who’s partnered with Eli Wright in some specific deals. Andy says he hasn’t gotten much on him yet but he’s checking more into all of them and also trying to get copies of Prescott’s financial statements.” “If anyone can do it, he can,” Faith laughed. “Ron Pelley is very interesting,” Mike went on. “From what Andy’s found so far, his personal financial situation fluctuates. He’s been on the bottom as much as he’s been on top.” “Drugs?” Mark asked. “Gambling? Stock speculation?” “He’s checking. Right now any of the three could be the frog in the pond here. I still think it’s strange that all three were contacted by the kidnappers.” “Diversion. Throw people off the scent.” “Unless they’re all in it together. Someone had to set this up with whoever staged the kidnapping and feed them the right information.” “Pull up those pictures again. Let’s see if they tell us anything.” “Oh god!” No one had seen Katherine come in. Suddenly she was standing beside them, her eyes wide with shock as she looked at the photos on the screen. Mike jumped up from where he was sitting and led her away from the table. “Don’t look, kitten. Please.” “No. I have to see. It might help me in my session.” Her face was set in grim lines. “Really. I can handle it.” The arrival of her food provided a momentary distraction. She insisted on sitting at the table and studying the photos while she ate. Finished, she pushed the plate away and asked them to clear everything off the table except the laptop and to leave the photos up on the screen. “Where are the pictures you printed out?” she asked Mike. “Right here.” He picked them up from the sofa table where he’d left them. “All right. Here’s my picture of Mari.” She took it from the pocket of the jeans she’d put on and placed it next to the shot of the Wrights. Then she pulled the laptop around so she could see all the photos at once. “Can you close the drapes please and just leave one small lamp on?” “No problem.” Mike hurried to close the heavy drapes, darkening the room and turning on one small table lamp. He sat in the armchair again while the Hallorans took the couch, all eyes on Kat as she gathered herself to begin. With Brent Fontaine finally out of her life, Kat was convinced her powers would be stronger, more focused. That her concentration would be greater. She studied each of the pictures in front of her very closely, then lifted her eyes and stared straight ahead.
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Just like always, the images wavered and blurred. She saw a piece of a dirt road, a tree, a dog running across her vision as if crossing a video screen. Then everything disappeared. She blinked, focusing her attention. She opened her eyes and looked at the photos again, then closed them and focused. The road came into view again, the dog and this time a corner of a building. She tried to zero in on the building, to bring up a larger image of it but she was hung up on the corner. Okay. Try again. This time she saw more of the road, leading upward toward an ugly square adobe hut. And for the first time she saw a man dressed in dirty khaki pants and a shirt. The dog was running around him, barking at him. Once more everything faded. Then she blinked and like always, the image became crystal clear. She saw part of the adobe building, a large gun slung over the man’s shoulder as he leaned against the wall, a truck parked off to the side and in the background what was either a large hill or a small mountain. The blazing sun was casting shadows, hinting at the presence of others to the side of the hut. It froze in her vision for a long moment, snapped by an imaginary camera, then it was gone. Kat tried to call it back but all she could see were fragments again. “Please turn on the light and open the drapes,” she said in quiet voice. “What did you see, kitten?” Mike was at her elbow with a glass of water. She drank from it thirstily, then explained the picture she’d been able to call up. “I need more,” she told him, then looked at Mark and Faith. “But I didn’t feel a weakening of my gift this time, only a lack of sufficient information.” She blew out a sigh. “I think getting Brent Fontaine off my back has made a major difference.” “And we’ll make sure he stays off your back,” Mike told her. “I’ll check with Wagner in a few minutes, make sure Fontaine gets on the plane back to Tampa and have one of our men pick him up there. He’ll have a shadow glued to him every minute. Until he moves on to someone else, that is.” “I don’t wish him on anyone else,” Kat protested. “But I’ll be glad not to have a million calls a day from him.” “So what’s your best guess?” Mark asked. “Any idea where they might be? Any clue at all?” She told them what she’d seen. “They aren’t in California though. I definitely got that sense. They’ve been taken to a different country.” “The closest is Mexico,” Mike put in. “And that would make the most sense. Whoever has them wouldn’t want to transport them halfway around the world.” “I hate to be the voice of gloom,” Faith said, “but I’m just doing research for a book on a subject that’s been hot on the news. Kidnappings by drug cartels. They target
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prominent, wealthy individuals, take them over the border and extort exorbitant amounts in ransom.” “Jesus,” Mark breathed. ”Drug cartels. That puts a whole new light on things.” “It damn well sure does,” Mike agreed. He crouched down next to Kat. ”I hate to say this but it also ups the danger factor.” His fingers caressed the nape of her neck as if trying to assure her things would still be okay. She finished the water and set the glass down. “One thing I don’t want you to do is soft pedal things for me. I can’t be of any use unless I know every fact available.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m scared to death for Mari. But is it really any worse having her held captive by a drug dealer than some other criminal? Her life is just as much at risk.” Mike kissed her cheek, then rose to his feet. “You’re right. And it gives us a new angle to pursue.” Mark picked up the stack of papers they’d printed out from Andy’s emails. “Why don’t I take these to my room and go over them. I’ll call Andy and tell him to see if he can find any connection at all between the three men and any drug organization. I’ll also have him do a search for the cartels who’ve been most active in this kind of thing lately.” “I have some stuff on my computer too,” Faith chimed in. “And I can have Tia, my research assistant, email anything new she’s come up with. It’s not hard to find. These men don’t seem to shun publicity.” “Why should they?” Mike said in a bitter tone. “Our government seems to be powerless to deal with anything on the other side of the border. The Mexican government is too corrupt and the politics are too shaky.” “So what can we do?” Kat asked. “Take care of it like we always do. Monitor new emails to the three men. Try to trace their source. Find out where the hostages are being held and go in and get them.” “That simple, huh?” “Well.” He smiled. “Almost.” He looked at the Hallorans. “And what will Katherine and I be doing while you’re rustling up all this information?” “Kat looks like she could use some rest and I think you can help her relax.” Mark winked and Kat blushed. “How about if we meet for dinner about eight o’clock?” Mike asked. “Could we have room service?” Kat asked. “I don’t think I feel like eating in a restaurant after the day we’ve had.” She looked at Mark and Faith. “Unless you’d rather not. We can eat here by ourselves.” “Not a problem.” Faith gave her a quick hug. “I’ll call you in plenty of time to call in our order. And add a couple of bottles of good wine. I think we could all use it.” She pushed her husband out the door and closed it behind them.
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Kat looked at Mike, the heat simmering between them despite the severity of the situation. Or maybe because of it. The situation with Brent had shaken her badly too, although it was a relief to finally be rid of him. Mike, reading her mood as always, took charge of the moment. He lifted her from the chair, cradling her in his arms. His mouth descended on hers, gently at first then with a firmer pressure. “Let it go, kitten. Let it all out.” She pressed herself to his body. “I think my batteries need recharging. I feel as if a truck ran over me.” “How about you lie down for a while?” She looked up at him. “How about you lie down with me?” She desperately needed this affirmation that in the midst of this despair and danger there was life and love. “I think that can be arranged.” He cradled her face between his palms, pressing his mouth to hers. “Open for me, kitten.” When she did his tongue swept in like a hot wire, trailing flame everywhere in the wet cavern of her mouth, brushing over her teeth, her gums, then mating with her own small tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head closer, tasting him and savoring his flavor. God, just his touch generated such heat in her body, his kisses sending electrical jolts to every one of her pulse points. She could already feel moisture gathering between her thighs and her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt. He never lifted his mouth from hers as he carried her into the bedroom. His tongue continued to plunge and stroke until they reached the bed and he set her on her feet. She was breathless when he broke the kiss. He reached for the buttons on her blouse, releasing them one at a time and pulling the fabric from the waistband of her jeans and pushing it down her arms. When his fingers easily undid the front clasp on her bra and her breasts sprang free he sucked in his breath, his eyes flaring with heat. The need in his gaze made her nipples harden even more and her breasts ache. He cupped them in his palms, thumbs rasping the sides, his eyes feasting on them as if he couldn’t turn away. Her knees wobbled and she was afraid if she didn’t sit down she’d fall down. Just his touch was enough the start the pulse at her core pounding relentlessly. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful. How did I go for two years without this? How was I so stupid as to push you away? Never again, kitten. I promise you.” Gently he slipped the sleeves of her blouse and the straps of her bra down her arms until they fell away to the floor. His lips brushed first one nipple, then the other and a shiver skated over her body. She clutched his upper arms for support, her head thrown back as she arched toward him. His fingertips traced circles around her areolas, a feather of a touch that might just as well have been a jolt of lightning as streamers of heat raced to every part of her body. “Michael,” she whispered.
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When his hands drifted lower to the snap and zipper of her jeans, she moved her hands to unbutton his shirt, pushing it aside as he had done to hers and running her fingers through the fine pelt of dark hair covering his chest. His flat nipples peeked out from beneath the dark curls, nipples that hardened as hers did when she scraped her fingernails over them. Suddenly he was in a frenzy for them to finish undressing as quickly as possible. “Clothes,” he said, his own breathing labored. “Off. Now.” They undressed together, eyes focused on each other, until they were naked. Mike’s gaze raked over her, hot and smoldering. He reached out a finger and touched each hardened nipple, then drew a line straight down to the curls covering her mound. “Hold everything.” His voice was rough with passion. “Be right back.” He unzipped his duffel and pulled out a handful of condoms. “Aren’t you being a little optimistic?” She heard the trembling in her voice. “We don’t have that much time until dinner.” His mouth touched hers in a brief kiss. “Maybe I want to be prepared for later.” And then they were naked, skin to skin, every inch of their bodies pressed together. The thickness of his erection was pushed hotly against the softness of her belly and he bent his head to suck briefly at each of her breasts. He yanked the covers back on the bed and lifted her to the cool sheets. In a moment he was stretched out beside her, running his hands over her body, relearning every dip and curve and swell. She could feel the electricity humming between them, her hormones leaping to attention as he worshiped every inch of her body. One of his hard-muscled thighs insinuated itself between her soft ones and she felt his hot shaft pressing against her, hard and ready. When his hand trailed down past her navel to the thatch of curls covering her mound and lower still to the seam of her cunt, she heard his moan as he became aware of how wet she was. Mike’s hands were everywhere, tracing every dip and swell of her body, cupping her breasts and her mound. His mouth was busy tasting her, licking along the line of her jaw. He nipped the lobe of her ear while his thumb and forefinger pinched and tugged at each nipple, sending twin spikes of heat through her. Restless in her desire and need for him, she wriggled a hand between them to reach for his cock, thick and hard against her thigh. When she closed her fingers around it, his hand contracted around the mound of her breast and his teeth closed on her bottom lip. His fingers slid down her tummy to find the throbbing button of her clit and farther until he drove them inside her. She pushed herself down on him, impaling herself on his fingers as she stroked his erection. It flexed beneath her touch and swelled even more. Mike’s thumb rasped her clit as his fingers continue to move in and out of her wet channel. When he bent his head to pull a nipple into his mouth and bit down on it lightly she crashed over the edge, her entire body trembling, her pussy clamping down on his fingers with tremor after tremor. 108
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Her fingers tightened convulsively on his cock and she heard his harsh intake of breath. Mike slid his fingers from her body and rubbed them on her lips. “Taste yourself.” The timbre of his voice was rough, his eyes like hot coals burning into hers. “See how sweet you taste.” She let her tongue sweep over her bottom lip, capturing the flavor that was sharp and honeyed at the same time. His hand lowered to her pussy again and he began the same teasing movements, the same assault on clit and vagina. Only this time, as the orgasm rose up within her, he pulled his hand away, rolled over and reached for one of the condoms. “I want you now,” he told her. When he knelt between her legs to sheath himself, the desire burning in his eyes was so intense it took her breath away. In the next moment he drove into her with one hard thrust. They moved together in a motion so familiar it was as if they’d never been parted. Each time he withdrew her muscles quivered with the loss of his presence. When he reentered her they clasped him tightly, sheathing him, sucking him into her body. She opened her eyes to watch him above her, every one of his muscles taut with strain, sweat dripping from his face. Unbelievably she felt her climax building again so quickly she was afraid she’d get ahead of him but then he rasped, “I can’t hold it any longer, Kat. I can’t wait.” “Me either,” she whispered. “Come with me, Kat,” he urged, his face taut, every one of his muscles rigid. And she did. She convulsed around his hot erection, her internal muscles gripping him and pulling at him. Still gasping for breath, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, she was shocked to feel her body begin to respond yet again as he set up a hard in-and-out movement. Rockets exploded throughout her body, her pulse drumming in her ears and her blood racing like fast running rapids. She shifted to take him even deeper, then locked her ankles behind him and pulled him close. They came together in an explosion so intense it was like all the fireworks on the Fourth of July. The orgasm gripped them both like a giant fist, shaking them, tossing them like leaves in a wind. Her muscles spasmed over and over as she felt him throbbing deep inside her sheath, the only thing separating them the thin covering of latex. With a last shudder he threw his head back and screamed her name, then fused his mouth to hers as the convulsions died away. For a long time she lay beneath him, completely spent, the room filled with the scratchy sound of air being dragged into lungs. She wasn’t sure whose heart she felt
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beating ferociously, hers or his. He lay atop her, catching most of his weight on his forearms, his lips pressed against the damp column of her neck. At last he slid from her gently, rolled to the side and said, “Give me a minute here.” She heard him in the bathroom disposing of the condom, then he was back, stretched out next to her, pulling her against him so her head was tucked into his shoulder and his hands could stroke her spine and buttocks. “We wasted so much time because I was such a stupid ass,” he told her. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore.” “I just want you to know—” “Ssh.” She touched her fingers to her lips. “We have plenty of time for all that when this is over, when the Wrights and Mari are back safe and sound. Meanwhile we know we have each other.”
***** Mari was doing her best to keep it together but her head throbbed incessantly, a constant dull pounding that kept her on the edge of nausea. Sydney had made her drink the water when a tray was delivered again and she choked down one tortilla. If she ever got out of this, she swore she’d never eat one of the damn things ever again. The tiny patch she could see through what passed for a window high up showed her the sun had set and the sky was darkening. That left little light inside the hut. She still had her watch that fortunately had an LED readout. Pushing the button to light it up, she realized it was almost eight thirty. They’d been here all afternoon and into the evening. She tried to figure out who would do this but she didn’t have a clue. Someone they knew was involved, she was convinced of that. The people who took them had to know when and where they’d be eating lunch. But who could be so evil? So vicious? And who were they working with who facilitated it? She glanced around the room, looking to see where everyone was. Sydney was sitting on the floor next to her, eyes closed, having finally dozed off. She watched Eli sitting in the opposite corner, his arm around Lissa, speaking quietly to her, obviously trying to reassure her that things would be all right. What a laugh that was. She wished she’d left something behind that Kat could use as a clue, a point of focus to discover their location. But everything had happened so quickly. One minute they were laughing, waiting for their car to return to the airport. The next they were drugged and in a van, speeding away from the scene. Oh Kat, please find us. I hope Vivi Alderson was able to help you strengthen your gift and some clue lets you “see” us. She heard the clacking of the wood outside that obviously kept the door in place, then the door itself slammed open and Pedro and Enrique sauntered in, accompanied again by the cameraman. 110
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“Time to make video stars of you again,” he told them, shifting the cigar in his mouth to speak around it. “Everybody up.” When they all moved slowly to their feet, he pointed his gun toward the ceiling and fired it, making everyone jump. “I mean right now. We are on a schedule here.” “Listen.” Eli moved his daughter behind him as he stepped forward. “I want to know what this is all about, who’s in charge here and when you plan to let us go.” Without warning Pedro flipped his gun to hold it by the butt and smashed it into Eli’s nose. He tried to stifle the cry of pain as blood streamed down his face. “Daddy!” Lissa cried. Mari immediately went to her and put her arms around her, forcing her own pain into background and stroking the young girl’s hair. “Eli! My god!” Sydney grabbed some of the paper napkins left from their last round of food and water and pressed them against his nose. “Here. Hold this.” She turned to Pedro, a fierce expression on her face. “Do your orders say you’re to brutalize us?” she demanded of Pedro, who stood watching them with evil satisfaction glistening in his eyes. “Señora. My orders are to make sure the people we are contacting take us seriously. If they think you are being treated like celebrities, where will the urgency of the situation be? Now get back before you have a matching cut on your other cheek.” “People?” Mari saw Eli had picked up on the plural. His words were muffled as he kept the absorbent paper pressed to his nose but he hadn’t lost his air of quiet command. “So there’s more than one person involved?” “The number is irrelevant,” Enrique told them, the first time he’d spoken. “We have our orders and you would do well to follow them. Now take your places.” Roughly he pulled each of them into the places they’d stood previously and nodded to the cameraman. He now had a portable light with him, which he set up on a tripod. The glare nearly blinded them. This time the taping took only seconds. Pedro and Enrique stood by the open door as the cameraman finished up. The light went out, the door slammed shut and they were plunged into near darkness. Sydney raced into the dirty bathroom, wet some of the toilet paper in there and carried it to Eli. “Come sit down and put your head back,” she told him. Mari led Lissa over to where her parents lowered themselves to the floor and the two of them crouched down. “It’s interesting that he said ‘people’,” Eli said, looking at Mari. “I was thinking the same thing.” She wished her head would stop hurting so she could think better. “That makes me think more than one person arranged this. But Eli, who would do that? Who knew where we’d be, who would want to do this to us?” “Disgruntled employees?” Sydney asked.
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“No. I can’t think of any of them who would have the resources or contacts to set this up.” “People you’ve done business with?” Sydney suggested. Eli shrugged. “Yes, no, maybe.” He looked at Mari. “Anyone come to mind?” “No one who would be angry enough to do something like this. The other thing is, whoever it is didn’t do this himself. He made arrangements with someone to grab us.” “You’re right,” he agreed. “The plane they flew us here on had a logo on the side that said Mazatlan Textiles, so you know we’re in Mexico.” Sydney gave an unladylike snort. “You could tell that by our so-called hosts. But who do we know who would have this kind of connection with someone so powerful in Mexico?” “I just don’t know.” He looked at Mari, his eyes sending her a message. She turned away so no one would catch the message between them but she knew what he was thinking. They’d read about it often enough in the newspapers. Drug cartels! The kidnappings by drug kingpins of wealthy, high-profile people had been all over the news for the past few months. That added another dimension to the situation. Now they needed to figure out not just who engineered this but who would have contacts with a drug cartel. A cold knot settled in her stomach like an icy fist. If what she suspected was true, the situation had just gone from bad to much, much worse.
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Chapter Ten Kat was sure that she glowed. That everything she and Mike had done was imprinted on her somehow for everyone to see. She was beyond self-conscious when the Hallorans joined them in their suite but Faith, as usual, made her feel at ease. Even when Mike couldn’t keep himself from touching her, whether it was draping his arm around her or rubbing his finger along her arm or her hand, the other couple acted as if it was business as usual. When room service arrived and they sat down at the table to eat, Mark gave them a rundown on what they’d been doing. “We went back to the airport,” Mark said, cutting into his steak. “I wanted to go over their plane very carefully and see if there was anything there you could use, Kat. I did a little reading on remote viewing on my laptop and learned that it’s a type of clairvoyance. That often it’s symbols or images, not just specific coordinates, that can bring images to your mind. That you’re actually ‘seeing’ with your brain rather than your eyes.” “That’s right.” She took a small sip of her wine. “That’s why I’d hoped the pictures of Mari and the Wrights would be enough to give us their location.” “You did give us something,” Mike reminded her. “More than we had before.” “So did you find anything?” Kat asked. “No, unfortunately. We called the pilots at the motel where they’re staying and they didn’t add much either. But Faith and I went through all the stuff that Andy sent to us plus the research from Faith’s assistant.” “And?” Mike prodded. “Here’s the thing.” He carefully chewed and swallowed a bite of his food. “To begin with, every one of the men—Pelley, Prescott and Post—is in trouble, in differing degrees.” “What kind of trouble?” “Post blew through his trust fund his parents left him and he’s overextended on his chain of spas. He’s been trying to borrow more money and he’s pissed off that his sister and brother-in-law wouldn’t bail him out. Apparently they’ve done it twice before and this time they flat out told him no.” “So he’s a good candidate.” “Yes. But so are the others. Pelley makes a damn good living as vice president of Wright International, especially with all his bonuses but he also has been trying to borrow money. Andy couldn’t find out what for but he’s still digging.”
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“What about Rand Prescott?” Kat asked. “The man who was lending them his house.” “Again, something funny there. Andy found signs he’s being investigated by the Securities and Exchange Commission but he’s still hunting for more details, especially if it ties to any of the deals he did with Wright.” “Faith? What did you get?” Faith patted her lips with her napkin and pulled a tiny notebook from the pocket of her jeans. “I wrote some of this down so I wouldn’t forget it. Mark picked up a new portable printer on our way back here but we haven’t hooked it up yet.” “So there was something in the notes Tia sent you?” Mike prodded. Faith flipped the notebook open. “She’d found tons of stuff on the cartels and their kidnappings. More than I expected. And we were right on target.” “Just so we’re all prepared for what’s going on here,” Mark interrupted, “since the demise of the Cali and Medellin cartels in Columbia in the nineties, the Mexican cartels have become super powerful. They’re responsible for nearly all the marijuana and methamphetamine coming into this country, as well as heroin. Although there are others who distribute heroin more widely on a global basis. But they dominate the entire illicit drug trade in the United States.” Faith took up the narrative again. “It’s apparently become a regular fundraising activity for the cartels to supplement their income. I had asked her to make a list of the names of those who appeared most frequently in the media. There are six.” She flipped to another page. “Mano Escobar, Hector Villareal, Jesus Morales, Ricardo Banderas, Victor Herrera and Esai Borreo.” “And,” Mark went on, “a couple of them, instead of using what they call sicarios— gangs of enforcers—actually have pulled together their own private army.” “The man I saw in my remote view was wearing khakis,” Faith said, “like some kind of uniform.” “That’s good,” Mike told her. “It can help us narrow things down.” “I shot all the names to Andy,” Mark added. “I told him he can go home for a week when this is over but until then he should consider himself chained to the Dragon.” “I think he actually lives there anyway,” Mike said with wry humor. “Can he find out everything about these men?” Kat tried to tamp down her anxiety. Even the most casual news junkie knew that victims of cartel kidnappings had a low rescue factor. “I told him I want everything including how many times a day they go to the bathroom. What we need to find out is where in hell one of them could have crossed paths with any of the three men receiving the emails.” “What did he find out about them, anyway?” Mike took a swallow of his wine. “Anything more than basic financial information and stuff you can find in news clips?”
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“Not yet,” Mark told him. “He said he’s still working on it but I told him he needs to get his ass in gear.” “The thing is,” Faith commented, “pinning down a connection could be the most difficult thing. Wright International has businesses everywhere. So does Rand Prescott. And maybe Ryan Post has been looking to expand his spas operation into Mexico. Or already has. Mark, will you ask Andy to check on that? Maybe he’s operating under a different name.” Mark put down his fork, took out his cell and speed dialed a number. In a few quick sentences he added to the instructions he’d given earlier. “He’s working as fast as he can. Let’s finish dinner, Katherine, afterward, do you think you could try another remote viewing session?” Kat wanted to tell him that after making love with Mike she felt capable of doing anything but she just said, “Absolutely.” Mark snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot. Detective Wagner called about our friend Brent Fontaine. The guy manages a hedge fund and is loaded to the gills. But he has a reputation as a narcissistic asshole. Wagner called a friend of his on the Tampa PD who said they’ve had other women complain about Fontaine before.” “I’m not surprised.” Kat pushed her plate away. “I didn’t think I was the only one he behaved that way with. You have no idea what a relief it is to know he won’t be calling me anymore.” Mark nodded. “You can count on that. Wagner made it very plain that both San Diego and Tampa would be keeping track of his activities. And if he tried calling you again, you would report it to both police departments and they’d take appropriate action.” “Faith, I should let your aunt know that the major stress factor has been removed from my life and that I already feel my powers strengthening.” “I plan to call her later. I’ll bring her up to speed.” Kat fidgeted while they dawdled over coffee, finally pushing her chair back and saying, “I want to do this right now. We can’t afford to waste another minute and maybe this time I’ll get something more specific.” They piled everything onto the trolley the waiter had used to bring their food. Kat seated herself again, placed the pictures of Mari and the Wrights on the table, along with a sheet of paper and a pen. And this time she asked for one other thing. “Mike, could you find a map of Mexico on the laptop and bring it up on the screen so it’s facing me?” “Sure. No problem.” In seconds he had the map up and the laptop situated the way she wanted it. Mark closed the drapes again and Faith turned off all the lights in the room but the small table lamp. I have to do this for Mari. We have to be able to save her from these evil, bloodthirsty people. 115
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Kat closed her eyes took a long calming breath and let her mind reach out. Projecting it. Seeking out the location of the people in the pictures. This time the scene that came to her was dark. Nighttime. A flicker of a black sky with a sliver of moon. The edge of the adobe hut. A brief but fuzzy glimpse of the dog and the man with the heavy rifle. Then it all disappeared. She blinked and tried again. This time the picture wasn’t quite as fuzzy and she saw a little more of the building. A door, with a long block of wood notched into a hook holding the door closed. The man with the gun and the foot of another man next to him. The moon. The vague shape of hills in the background. And a black van. She strained to see the license plate but again it was too blurred. And then, as always, it popped into place with incredible clarity. Including a part of the license plate on the vehicle. Before it disappeared she wrote down what she’d seen. In a moment, as quickly as it had come, the scene disappeared but she was overjoyed that she’d gotten a little something more out of it. “I saw something,” she told Mike in an excited voice. “Turn the rest of the lights on. Please.” “What is it?” Mike sat down in the chair next to her and pulled it close. “There’s a van parked near the hut. Black. Pretty dirty. But I got the beginning of the license plate.” She handed Mike the paper. “Here. Can Andy do something with this?” Mike immediately got Andy on the phone, read to him what they had and asked if he could call something up while he waited. Kat fidgeted, anxious to possibly have something more than a vague location. Mike took her hand and laced his fingers through hers, squeezing them gently. Sending her a silent message. After what seemed an interminable length of time, Mike said, “Yeah. Still here. Shoot.” His eyes held hers as he listened to what Andy was saying. “Okay. Got it. Very good. Thanks. Keep on that other stuff.” He snapped the phone shut. “The license plate indicates the vehicle is registered in the Mexican state of Sinaloa.” “I can’t imagine they’d use a car that could pinpoint them so easily,” Faith said. “The reason they don’t care,” Mike told her, “is because the Sinaloa cartel is in bed with the Mexican government. One of the most corrupt governments in the world. Rumor has it that some of Mexico’s investigative agency as well as the federal police force actually work for Victor Herrera, the head of the Sinaloa cartel. He has a soulless evil enforcer named Bernando Esquivez who actually runs things for him and is probably the head honcho on this particular adventure. No one goes against them because of that.”
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Kat felt ill. “So, just like you said before, even if they wanted to, our government wouldn’t get involved. The Mexican government would protect the cartel.” “That’s right,” Mark nodded. “The DEA has already lost too many agents from different organizations trying to crack the cartels or retrieve hostages. And the government is so corrupt they’re no help at all.” “So that leaves just us.” “Hey, hey, hey!” Mike cupped her chin and turned her face toward his. “We’re a lot better than they are, remember? And we don’t have to worry about politics.” “Is there a way to find out where Herrera’s headquarters is located?” she asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice. “Yes,” Mark answered. “Now that we’ve narrowed the area to a specific part of Mexico and identified who the cartel leader there is.” “Another job for Andy?” “Yeah but we can do some work from here too.” Faith rose from the chair where she’d been sitting. “Why don’t I go get our laptop and we can use both of them to do some research. We can’t hook into the resources Andy can but it’s better than sitting here and just waiting.” “Let’s do it,” Mark said. “We’ll bring back the portable printer too.” When they were gone, Kat turned to Mike, “I’m trying very hard to be brave about this but I’m really scared for them, Mike.” He pulled her from the chair into his arms, circling his arms around her. “That’s not an unnatural reaction. These are some nasty people. But we haven’t failed yet and we won’t now. You can trust me on that.”
***** “Man, this waiting is killing me,” Ryan Post said to the FBI agent seated in a chair in his office. The day had stretched interminably. It was nearly impossible trying to handle business matters with a watchdog breathing down his neck. At seven he’d sent someone out to pick up sandwiches for both of them but the food had tasted like so much sawdust. He wondered if the kidnappers would make them wait all night for the next message. “They want you to feel this way,” the agent, a man named Ned Carver, told him. “Anxious. Stressed out. Susceptible to whatever they ask you to do.” “What if Pelley can’t get all the money together?” Ryan wanted to know, a tic jumping beneath one eye. That had been a worry from the beginning. Ron had emerged as the point person because it was assumed he had the greatest resources and could easily tap into them. Of
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course, Rand Prescott was no pauper. Ryan, as the low man on the totem pole, had told the other two it was up to them to carry the financial burden on this. “If the kidnappers didn’t think they could collect a ransom, the whole thing never would have taken place. Believe me, these people check into everything very carefully before they set up one of these actions. Nothing is done randomly.” He shifted in the chair. “And if someone on the inside is working with them, they have even more reason to be confident.” Ryan felt suddenly lightheaded. “What do you mean, someone on the inside?” “My boss thinks the kidnappers had help setting this up. Someone who could feed them the information they needed for the grab.” He narrowed his gaze at Ryan. “It could even be you.” Ryan sat down quickly in his chair, his heart kicking into an uneven rhythm. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t really think that.” Carver shrugged. “Makes sense. Any of the three of you could be doing this for a cut of the ransom.” “That’s outrageous,” Ryan stormed. “You think I would do that to my own sister? My family?” Carver just studied him. “You’d be amazed at the things I’ve seen people do when money is involved, Mr. Post. In fact, right now the FBI is digging into your affairs to see if there’s something that looks a little off-kilter.” Ryan wanted to throw something. As if things weren’t bad enough already. No one could withstand an investigative assault by the FBI, even if they were squeaky clean. He picked up a paper clip and viciously bent it out of shape. Shit. Sliding his cell phone into his pocket, he rose from his desk. “Does your unrelieved supervision of me include following me into the men’s room?” He didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “I think I’ll pass on that,” Carver said. “Knock yourself out.” If only I could.
***** Rand Prescott liked the hotel where he always stayed because the suites were large and the staff gave their guests maximum privacy. For a hefty price, of course. The tall, slightly overweight man whose dark brown hair was shot with gray silently cursed the situation he now found himself in. John Hopewell, the FBI agent who had shown up on his doorstep, now sat in one of the big armchairs, leafing through a report as they both waited for the next email to appear. Rand had cancelled all his meetings and now sat at a second laptop he’d borrowed from the hotel, trying to get some work done. His secretary was still panicked at the intrusion of the FBI into her orderly day and their demand to know where he 118
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was. It had taken him quite a while to settle her down but now she was sending him reports that he asked for as well as the latest updates from his various divisions. Around seven thirty he’d ordered from room service for himself and his federal babysitter but the excellently prepared food had little appeal for him. Every half hour he looked at his watch, wondering if they’d have to wait until morning for the next email. Very little made Rand Prescott nervous but the silent presence of the federal agent would have gotten on anyone’s nerves, he told himself. He’d pulled himself up to where he was over a very bumpy road and he knew there would be things anyone digging into his past might look at strangely. Things he didn’t need splashed across the front page of the newspapers or headlined on television. Things the people he did business with would be none too happy to read about. He raised his eyes and looked over at the man on the other side of the room. “Do you plan to just sit there all day?” Hopewell nodded. “Until we know the details of the ransom and how it’s going to take place.” “I suppose you know that I’m in town here on business.” “You’re perfectly free to have all your meetings here in your suite,” Hopewell told him. “But I’m not sure how much of this you want to involve anyone else in.” “Why do you think they emailed three people?” he asked. Hopewell shrugged. “Maybe they’re hedging their bets. Making sure there won’t be a question of getting all the money together. Why? Are you saying you don’t want to be involved?” Prescott chose his words carefully. “I’m saying I wouldn’t think I would be a logical choice of the kidnappers. But of course I want to do whatever I can to facilitate this. I think a great deal of Eli Wright and his family.” “You and Mr. Wright have partnered in some business deals, right?” “That’s correct. And everything was aboveboard, I can assure you.” Why did he feel the need to add that little extra? “Good. Because I’m sure you know we’re going over both the business and personal affairs of everyone involved here.” “Yes. Of course.” Prescott rose and went to the sideboard, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. What he really wanted was a good stiff slug of bourbon. Sipping the hot liquid slowly, he checked to make sure he had his cell phone with him and headed for the bedroom. “Where are you going?” the agent asked him, suddenly alert. “To use the restroom,” he said with a touch of derision. “I’m assuming I won’t get arrested for that?”
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The agent simply looked at him, face unreadable and went back to looking at the papers in his lap. Prescott passed through the bedroom to the bathroom, closed the door softly, locked it and pulled out yet another disposable cell phone. In his business he’d learned to keep a supply of them for situations just like this—when he wanted to make calls and bypass any law enforcement traps or traces. Now all three of them were doing it. And it was becoming damn inconvenient.
***** Ron Pelley was getting sick of looking at Anthony Delaware. Not only was the man a permanent fixture in his office, he’d made it very plain that he had people who worked for him digging into every corner and crevice of his life. How the hell did he get into this mess, anyway? It hadn’t been much fun meeting with staff members and division heads with the silent presence in the corner and he hadn’t been able to come up with an explanation that satisfied anyone. They all left his office with curiosity stamped on their faces. Sometime after six he called down to the cafeteria that operated 24/7 for Wright employees and ordered something for himself and Anthony Delaware. He ate only to try to fill the hole in his stomach, forcing himself not to constantly check his watch. What the hell were they waiting for? The morning? This was an impossible situation. “You’d better hope the Wrights and Miss Culhane are still somewhere in this country,” the agent said now. “I’ve talked to my boss in Washington and he’s firm about the fact that if they’ve been taken to a foreign country, the chances of recovering them are slim to none. We won’t be able to go in after them.” Pelley didn’t want to think about that. “What makes you think they won’t turn them loose when the ransom is paid?” “We don’t know anything for sure. What we’re trying to learn right now is who made the connection with the kidnappers. Who fed them information. And how the ransom will be arranged.” “What do you mean, who made the connection?” “I’ve been telling you,” Delaware said with exaggerated patience. “Someone had to set this up. None of the kidnappings in the border states have been random. Someone besides the kidnappers is going to make some bucks on this. And we plan to find out who.” “I thought you told me they’d probably arrange to have the ransom paid by bank transfer.” “That’s still a possibility. But in the past few months we’ve pretty much been able to trace all wire transfers, so they may decide some other way would be safer.”
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“Like what?” Pelley demanded. He’d long since given up trying to get any work done. Now he was more worried about the pieces of his life being held up to the light of day. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.” “Why the hell is it taking so long for the next email?” he complained. “What are they waiting for?” “It’s a standard tactic,” Delaware told him. “Ratchet up the anxiety factor so the mark will do anything, pay anything, agree to anything, to get the hostages back.” “What makes them think we wouldn’t pay up?” “I don’t know.” Delaware’s voice was flat and uninflected. “We’re talking about a lot of money here. Are their lives worth that much to you?” “What the hell kind of question is that?” Pelley stood up, pushing his chair back. “Excuse me. I think I need to hit the men’s room. This conversation is making me sick.” The agent just shook his head and looked back at what he was reading. Pelley carefully palmed a disposable cell phone from his desk, shoved his hands in his pockets and strode out of the room. Damn, damn, damn.
***** “Why are you calling me?” Nando asked, his voiced tinged with anger. “You know you’re supposed to wait for my phone call and the next email.” “Things are getting a little testy here,” Rip told him, “and so am I. All three of us have FBI agents babysitting us and it isn’t much fun.” “Patience,” Nando told him. “You must have patience.” “Patience? This isn’t some kind of game we’re playing. We need to get this done and over with.” “Try to remember,” the man said in a quietly vicious tone, “you are not the one calling the shots here. This isn’t just about these particular…guests.” Rip felt his gut clench. “What do you mean, not about them? Who the hell would it be about?” “It’s about sending the right message for future operations,” Nando explained slowly, as if speaking to a child. “We have a reputation to maintain. People must know they can’t screw around with us.” “Are you shitting me?” Rip ran his hands through his hair. This was not the way he’d imagined things would go. “Everyone already knows you mean business. So let’s get on with it. When are you sending the next email? It’s already nine o’clock at night and this Fed is stuck to me like glue.” “Timing is everything, my friend. You should have learned that by now.”
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A faint click and Rip was listening to dead air. He had to stifle an insane urge to punch his fist through the wall.
***** There was little to relieve the darkness in the dirt hut. No one had come to see them since the last video shoot and hardly any light reached them through the tiny slit of a window. They could see the sliver of moon against the black sky but the thin slice was no help at all. Eli’s nose had stopped bleeding. Sydney had found a roll of paper towels in the corner of the bathroom and kept a dampened wad against Eli’s face to help with the swelling. Lissa had lost it after the guards had left the last time, so upset by her father’s smashed nose and the hurt inflicted on Sydney and Mari that she hadn’t been able to hold back the tears. Sydney had rocked her in her arms for a long time. Now, exhausted, Lissa slept with her head in her mother’s lap. “Mari, you’ve been incredible,” Eli told her, his words slightly muffled through the wad of paper towel. “I am so very sorry we got you into this.” “Not your fault, Mr. Wright.” The pounding in Mari’s head had subsided to a dull thud and her vision was no longer blurred but the nausea still crept up in her throat now and then. “I think under the circumstances you could call me Eli, don’t you think?” She was amazed that he could still manage a trace of humor in his voice. “Okay. Eli. It still isn’t your fault.” “Mari, someone we know, somewhere, has hooked up with our kidnappers. They fed them the information about our stop in San Diego. It was too well-planned for it not to be set up ahead of time. And forgive me, I don’t think you’re the primary target.” “I can’t imagine anyone we know mixed up with drug cartels.” Sydney’s voice was a little shaky but Mari could tell she wasn’t about to give in to the circumstance. “You never know,” Eli told her. “People have secrets in their lives they keep well hidden.” “It’s just so unbelievable,” Sydney said. “Mari, tell me about these people your sister knows. The Phoenix Agency.” “They’re all former military. Two of them are childhood friends. Originally there were four of them but when Faith Wilding found them and got them to rescue Mark Halloran, who she’s now married to, he became the fifth partner.” “Exactly what do they do?” She gave an abrupt laugh. “What don’t they do? They have contracts to perform black ops for the government. They handle private security for corporations all over the world. Sometimes they take individual cases if it happens to be a friend of theirs. Like when Dan Romeo, the senior partner, prevented the theft of Carpenter Techtronics’
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latest gizmo.” She wet her very dry lips with her tongue. “I don’t want to make you think they’re supermen but there’s very little they can’t do.” “You know, they’ve called a couple of times looking to present a plan for our corporate security,” Eli told her. “Too bad I didn’t meet with them.” “There’s one more thing.” Mari tried to figure out how to tell them this. “Three of the partners are married and each of the wives has a particular psychic gift. They’ve even formed a Psi department to integrate these gifts into certain missions they undertake.” “I’m not a stranger to that,” Eli told her. “I’m actually aware the government has been experimenting with various psychic gifts to increase their intelligence-gathering capabilities.” “You should know my sister also has a…special gift. She’s a remote viewer. And that’s what I’m pinning my hopes on.” “Explain remote viewing,” Sydney said. Mari gave them as brief a description as she could, surprised that neither of the Wrights dismissed it out of hand. “When Mark Halloran was held by terrorists in the Peruvian jungle, it was his ability to communicate telepathically with Faith that ultimately led to his rescue.” She smiled, even though she knew they couldn’t see her. “So I’m hoping the same kind of thing works for us.” “Let’s pray you’re right, because other than the slimeball who helped set this up,” Eli pointed out, “no one else knows where the hell we are.”
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Chapter Eleven By ten o’clock Mark and Michael had printed out everything they could find on Victor Herrera and the Sinaloa cartel. The only thing they couldn’t find was the exact location of Herrera’s estate. There were brief descriptions of it, more than five hundred acres somewhere in the state of Sinaloa, but no one knew or would tell exactly where. “Arrgh,” Faith said, massaging her neck. She’d been going over the printouts from Tia one more time, hoping in her own research there’d be some kind of clue. Sinaloa was a huge geographic area. It would take days—maybe even weeks—to search every inch of it. “We could try taking a pass with the helicopter,” Mike said, “but if Herrera’s got his own army and he sees us overfly his house, they could have missiles and easily shoot us down.” “We’ve got to pin down a location, then try to scout it.” Mark stood up and went to the minibar, pulling out a soft drink. “Let me try a session again,” Kat said, impatient to be doing something. She sensed the tension in Mike’s body. “Kitten, you said you’ve been having problems,” he objected. “You’ve already done this today. You don’t want to overtax yourself.” “But don’t you see? With Brent off my back the fear is gone. I felt so much stronger during the last session. And we know the general area of Mexico where they’re probably being held.” She reached for the pile of papers in front of Faith. “Let me look at this. Maybe there’s something in there that will give me an item or area to focus on.” “Here.” Mike shifted one of the laptops over in front of her. “Use this. I’ve bookmarked a bunch of sites with geographical information on the state of Sinaloa. It’s on the west coast of Mexico.” Kat began looking at one screen after another, studying each one carefully. When she came to the general topographical information a tiny shiver skittered down her spine. “Mike? Look at this.” She swallowed the spike of excitement, wanting to be absolutely sure before she sent everyone off on a wild goose chase. “What is it, kitten?” He slid his chair closer to hers. “Look.” She pointed to a paragraph on the page. “This says Sinaloa lies in the foothills of the Occidental Range of the Sierra Madres. In the last viewing session, I saw just a vague hint—shadows, really—of hills beyond the hut.” She looked around at everyone. “They could possibly be right near the Sierra Madres.”
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“Is there any way for you to get a closer location? Anything that might give us a clue?” “Yes. Can we find any photos, maybe aerial shots of those hills? Maybe I can piece it together.” Mark immediately searched on his laptop and brought up three shots, which he saved side by side. Turning the screen toward Kat, he asked, “Is this enough for you to go with?” “It might be. I want to give it a try.” “Okay. Let’s move all this stuff off the table and turn down the lights,” Mike told the others. In minutes Kat was seated at a clean table, only a sheet of paper and a pen in front of her and the screen with the three photos. The others stood off to the side, giving her the space she needed. As always, she took a deep breath to center herself, then consciously opened up her mind. This time the picture came together almost immediately and the vegetation she’d thought was some type of coastal prairie grass came into sharper focus. She drew in a breath. She’d seen pictures of this plant before. Marijuana, stretching as far as her eye could see. The hill behind it came into sharper relief ’til the darkness took over again. She was ready to scream with frustration but suddenly another image flashed across her brain. A cathedral, illuminated by spotlights, its spires reaching up high into the sky. Kat blinked her eyes but the picture refused to go away. Furiously she began to sketch what she’d seen—the cathedral, the street circling it, a man in a cassock and miter standing at the door. Then it too was gone but this time she was excited. “Turn on the lights,” she told Mike. “Hurry.” Faith and Mike went around turning the lamps back on while Mike sat beside her again, taking her hand. “Did you ‘see’ something?” “Look.” She pushed the paper toward him. “A cathedral. Here’s what it looks like. How many cathedrals can there be in Sinaloa? And not too far from the Sierra Madres.” Mark was already typing into the search bar on the laptop and paging through the links that came up. “Got it,” he said. “The town of Culiacán. It’s the capital of Sinaloa and has a cathedral there.” He looked up. “And you can see the mountains from there.” “Okay.” Mike reached for the other laptop. “Let’s get as much information as we can. If Herrera has his estate there, you know it won’t be in the town but farther out by the mountains.” “I saw marijuana too,” Kat remembered. “What I thought was native grasses before are really marijuana plants. So they’d have to be pretty far out from town, right?” “And in a fairly humid area,” Mike agreed. “To provide the moisture for the plants. That should narrow it down.” 125
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“I see a dog too,” Kat told them. “Not always, but when my mental f/stop is letting in enough light and the image is crystal clear.” “Too bad we can’t call up the local chamber of commerce and ask them where the Herrera estate is located,” Faith said with a wry grin. “And what kind of dog they have.” “My guess,” Mark said, “is Herrera pours enough money into the town and has so many of the local police on his payroll, they wouldn’t tell you even if it was in the middle of Main Street.” “But there is something we can do,” Mike told the others. “We can do a flyover and get the lay of the land from the sky. I’ll check and see what kind of air traffic is common over that area and figure out the best way to blend in. The problem is being able to see much from the altitude at which we’ll have to fly.” “I’ll call Andy.” Mark took out his cell phone. “He’ll be able to get that kind of info for us. I wish we had the helo here for when we need it.” He grinned at Mike. “Too bad you can’t fly two things at the same time.” “What would you use it for?” Kat asked. The men exchanged a look. “Dropping into the area to extract the hostages.” Kat’s eyes flew wide open. “You’d just go in after them like that?” Mike grinned. “It’s what we do, kitten.” “Don’t forget about the dog,” she reminded him. “It looked very dangerous. Vicious.” He looked at Mark. “I wish we had more than just the two of us though. One person can’t get them all out. Even two is skimpy. And I’ll probably be flying a rented helicopter, which won’t help.” He snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. Ed should be back from that short hop to the Keys for that little job we had to do. I’ll get him to bring the helicopter out here. Let me call him.” Kat knew that Ed was Mike’s brother and was also a pilot. Mike had told her that even though Ed wasn’t a partner he was still an integral part of the Phoenix Agency operations. He’d also told her that while there were other pilots who flew for Phoenix, the key projects were always handed off to Mike or Ed or both. And he liked knowing he had his brother to back him up. Mike paced impatiently until the call went through, then paced even more while he was talking to his brother. Kat got a bottle of water from the minibar and drank from it thirstily, waiting for Mike to finish. “Okay,” he said at last, the call completed. “Ed will be here in the morning. He’s too beat to fly tonight. Besides, dawn isn’t the best time to do our flyover if we want to blend in with whatever traffic Andy turns up for us. That would raise the suspicions we aren’t looking for.” “He’ll land at the same airport where the plane is, right?” Mark asked.
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Mike nodded. “He expects to have wheels up at seven, which should get him here about eleven thirty. That means we need to get some sleep ourselves and be ready for anything new Andy sends us first thing in the morning.” “We haven’t heard from the Feds or Ron Pelley,” Mark reminded everyone. He looked at his watch. “It’s nine o’clock. You’d think someone would have given us a courtesy call by now. To keep Katherine in the loop if for no other reason.” “They don’t want us involved at all,” Mike said, irritation framing his words. “And they know if they contact Kat directly she’s only going to tell us about it.” “I say we call them anyway. Keep them on their toes. The method for paying the ransom should have been sent by this time. I want to know what the arrangements are and how they plan to retrieve the hostages.” “Okay. Just don’t rattle the cage too hard. We don’t want them to start watching us at this point.” “I’ll be cool.” Mike pulled a slip of paper form his pocket and began punching in Ron Pelley’s number.
***** As soon as Pelley answered his cell, he checked his computer and opened the email addressed to him. Immediately Delaware checked to make sure the other men had received similar emails and was told they had. He looked at the latest picture and what he saw turned his stomach. This was just senseless brutality. No one had refused to pay the ransom. None of the three men contacted had even caused a problem. So why rough up the hostages? Just for kicks? “Try replying to them again,” he told Pelley. “Why? It won’t go through.” “Just do it, damn it,” he said through gritted teeth. He nodded to the tech sitting beside the desk, who typed commands on a keyboard sitting in front of him. Pelley typed a message and hit the Send key. Immediately he got the same bounceback notice. “I told you,” he snapped. Delaware looked at his tech but the man shook his head. “They’re shutting down on the other end as soon as the email goes. Maybe even deleting the email address and just reinstalling it to send each message.” “So you can’t find out where it’s coming from?” “Not unless they stay on longer after they send their message.” The email was, once again, very brief, outlining the next step in the process of ransoming the hostages. “Bearer bonds,” Delaware said, reading the email again. “Well, now we know how he plans to get around wire transfers.” 127
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“I don’t understand,” Pelley said, reading the email. “Why the hell does he want bearer bonds?” “Because he’s smart,” Delaware told him. “Whoever this is, he knows we can easily check wire transfers, find out not just where the money comes from but also who receives it. That’s why he doesn’t want the money just transferred into an account.” “I thought all accounts were numbered? That the owners had anonymity?” “We can still trace the transaction. Eventually that money’s going to have to find a home and we’ll be there with a welcoming committee. But it could take forever and by the time we identify the account holder, that person could be long gone. He avoids all that with blank bearer bonds that anyone can cash.” Pelley frowned. “Won’t the same thing happen with bearer bonds?” Delaware shook his head. “They can cash these anywhere in the world. Any time they want to. We’d need an army of agents to cover every bank to catch them exchanging the bonds for money.” “They still haven’t told us how and when they want us to make the exchange. Damn it.” He smacked his fist on the desk. “I’ve got enough liquid cash together now but I can’t get the bearer bonds taken care of until morning. They have to know that. And how are we supposed to get the bonds to them without you guys waiting to pick off whoever receives them?” “Because if they follow the pattern,” Delaware explained, “that person will just be a gofer. The hostages won’t be released until the leader of whichever cartel is doing this safely has them in his hands.” “Can’t you follow the gofer?” “Not if they split over the border. And I promise you they won’t be using any border crossing with uniformed guards and legal processing.” Delaware took a moment to check with Carver and Hopewell again to get a fix on their situations. Their men were just waiting to see if they needed to help gather the ransom together. “But Post is beginning to come unglued,” Carver told him. “I hope he doesn’t spring a leak before this is over.” “I’m still trying to get more information on him. We know he and his sister didn’t have the best relationship but he doesn’t seem like he’d have the balls to set up something like this.” “We’re going to have to let these guys go to bed pretty soon, you know.” “I know. I’ve got trap and trace setups on their home phones as well as business now. The calls are coming in on their cells. Have Post set his computer to forward. Prescott’s only got the one with him and I’ll take care of things on this end.” “Long night, huh?”
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“I’m sending someone to relieve you for the night. He can bunk on Post’s couch. Ditto for Prescott. That’s all we can do for the moment.” He hung up and turned back to the man he was monitoring. “It’s late,” Delaware told him. “If you want to go home I’ll take you and you can forward your emails to your home computer.” Pelley shoved away from his desk, stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets. His face was lined with fatigue and his temper had shown itself in his last few comments. Delaware himself was beginning to feel the strain of the situation but in his job he was used to long periods of waiting. Besides, he wasn’t personally involved. “You don’t think we’ll hear from them again tonight, do you.” It wasn’t a question. “No,” the agent said, being completely truthful. “They know you can’t do anything until morning. We’ll keep monitoring everything just in case.” He studied Pelley’s posture, his rigid stance. The reports on him that he’d received from his office hadn’t raised any red flags. He carried no more than the usual amount of debt, seemed to have Eli Wright’s full confidence and didn’t have any bad habits. That they’d been able to trace. Something just didn’t smell right here but they couldn’t turn up what it was. Delaware ground his teeth. His calls to the agents babysitting Prescott and Post had them all in agreement on this. The agents in the office were working overtime to try to find any hook at all but it was like reading blank paper. Another thing his gut told him was this was definitely the work of a drug cartel, but which one? He’d called his contact at the Drug Enforcement Agency and asked him to send him whatever he had that might be helpful but it wasn’t a lot. Several DEA agents had been killed trying to get the goods on the various cartel leaders, the Mexican government had protested United States interference in the workings of their country, so their hands were basically tied. Meanwhile things were not looking up for the hostages. The only comfort he could take was that they were still alive. “Can you trace the origin of these emails?” Pelley asked, breaking into the agent’s concentration. Delaware looked at his tech person trying to work magic with his supercomputer. The man shook his head. “They don’t stay on long enough for me to get a trace. And they’ve got so many anonymous servers layered in there, they’re gone before I can even get any kind of lead. Whoever’s handling this for them, we ought to try to hire him.” “Thanks,” Delaware snorted. He turned back to Ron Pelley. “How quickly can you get the bonds together in the morning?” “Within an hour after the financial institutions open. I can run it through my own account, although I’m sure the guy I deal with will have more questions than I want to answer.”
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The FBI agent nodded at the computer. “The email says you’ll be contacted again at ten in the morning. That means whoever this is knows the process you have to go through. You’d better be sure you have everything together by then. You know, they’ve been very clever about this whole thing. The way their email is set up, you can’t send a message back to them.” “Right. I tried it and it just bounced right back.” “So there’s no way to be sure they’ll even turn the hostages over when they have the money.” Pelley went to stand by the window, looking out at the black night sky lit up by headlights and street lamps. “Isn’t that your job, Agent Delaware? To go in and make sure we get them back safe and sound?” “Under normal circumstances, yes. But this isn’t normal. Assuming we’re right and this is a drug cartel operation, we’re having trouble even finding out which cartel is responsible. And like I said, going into Mexico is not an option.” Pelley turned to look at him. “So why are you hanging around me all this time if there’s nothing you can do?” Anthony Delaware studied the other man’s face. “To keep you honest, Mr. Pelley. To keep you honest.”
***** “I don’t like it one bit,” Mike said, closing his cell phone. “Both Pelley and the FBI agent were very evasive. Pelley said very little, letting the Fed do most of the talking. All he said was Delaware, the FBI agent, was still sticking to him like glue and they hoped to have things resolved soon. I think hope being the operative word.” “What do you think is really going on?” Kat asked him, despair rushing through her. “None of that sounds very encouraging.” The look in Mike’s eyes was enough to squash it. “I think there’s a fifty-fifty chance that the Feds can make something happen. But we have no idea what’s really going on at their end, or how well the FBI can manage anything outside the borders of this country. So unfortunately, kitten, I think that’s a dead end.” “We’ll just proceed on our own then,” Mark said. “Wait, here’s another message from Andy.” Faith had closed the Hallorans’ laptop but an email was coming through on Mike’s. Kat couldn’t hide her gasp as she looked at the latest photo of the hostages. “My god, what are they doing to them?” Mike hugged her to him, squeezing her shoulders. “That’s the reaction they want,” he told her. “It helps to keep the mark off balance and speed up the ransom process.” She swallowed tears, determined not to break down but the sight of the people in the video, battered and bruised, was almost more than she could bear.
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“They want bearer bonds,” Mark pointed out. “That means they don’t want to leave any traceable prints with wire transfers.” He looked at the others. “It also means they’ll send someone for the pickup and there’s no guarantee how or when the hostages will be released.” They all looked at each other. “And there’s no guarantee that the hostages will be released,” Kat repeated, her throat tight. “That’s what you said, right?” “Forget about them,” Mark told her. “We’re going to take care of this ourselves. And I promise you, Katherine, the Phoenix Agency will bring them home safe and in one piece.” He looked at Faith. “Let’s go back to our room and give these people a little privacy. I’ll check with Andy and see what more he’s found out about the three men receiving the emails. Someone’s got a secret hidden somewhere. The cartel used it to pressure him into helping set this up.” “If you get anything tonight,” Mike said, “and I mean anything, call us no matter what time it is. And have Andy monitor the investment accounts of all three men.” He looked at Kat. “We want to make sure they aren’t throwing a red herring at us.” Picking up the stack of printouts, Mark and Faith headed for the door. “Everyone get a good night’s sleep and we’ll meet for breakfast in our suite. Work out some options while we wait for Ed to get here.” The Hallorans left then, Faith giving Kat a hug before following her husband out the door. Kat was doing her best to hang onto her nerves but she was so terrified for her sister and so impatient with the inability to just leap right into things she thought she’d explode. “Here.” Mike handed her a small cut glass tumbler with a dark liquid poured over ice cubes. “The best bourbon money can buy. Come sit down on the little bench here, sip your drink and let me see if I can work some of the tension out of those muscles.” She let him lead her to the vanity bench in the bedroom, taking a healthy swallow of bourbon rather than a sip and nearly choking on it. “Hey, hey, hey! Easy there.” “Sorry.” She wiped her eyes and sipped more slowly. “I just feel as if I’m going to fly apart any minute. All I can think of are those pictures and the terrible way Mari and the Wrights are being treated.” Mike leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on the top of Kat’s head. Just his presence was easing the anxiety that had gripped her since this whole nightmare began. She wriggled back against him, absorbing the warmth of his body. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she told the man who had suddenly become enormously important to her. More so than previously. “With me.” “Because you need a dashing daredevil?” he teased. “That too.” She dredged up a grin from somewhere. “But mostly because it’s you.” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Mike, I…”
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“I know.” He touched one finger to her lips. “I’m here and I’m in for the long haul. I’ll never leave you like that again. Ever. No matter what.” Putting his hands beneath her elbows, he lifted her from the bench and turned her to face him. In his eyes she saw so much caring and concern that it made her heartbeat flutter. He looked at her as if trying to tell her with his eyes everything that was in his heart. Then his mouth brushed against hers, a touch as light as a butterfly’s wings, and shivers raced through her. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips she opened for him as if it was the most natural thing to do. As if they’d been doing it forever. When his tongue swept inside she met it with her own, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer to him. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against the soft flesh of her belly and moved her hips back and forth against him. He groaned and lifted her in his arms without breaking the kiss, carrying her into the bedroom. “This is getting to be a habit,” she told him in a shaky voice. “Making love? I certainly hope so.” “No. I mean you carrying me to bed.” “I can’t think of any other better place to carry you to.” When he set her on her feet she was trembling with need. Heat flared in his eyes as he pulled the thin, short-sleeved sweater over her head and his gaze feasted on her breasts, barely contained by the silk and lace of her bra. “I love you, Katherine Culhane.” She heard the emotion in his voice and it ratcheted up the heat factor even more. “I love you too, Michael D’Antoni.” They undressed each other slowly, touching and caressing as each inch of skin was exposed. Mike bent his head to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking it, pulling on it, grazing it with his teeth. Mike’s mouth paid homage to her nipples, his hands probed the heat between her thighs finding her cunt. She trembled as her hands found the hot length of his erection and she closed her fingers around it. I want to taste him too. Shifting so she could get to her knees, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. She played her tongue over the velvet head, catching the bead of fluid and savoring it as if it was gourmet candy. Just as he’d done with her nipples she raked her teeth over his flesh, sliding from tip to root and back again before taking him all the way inside her. Mike wrapped his fingers with her hair, cupping her head and guiding her movements. She slipped one hand between his thighs to capture his sac, lightly scraping her fingernails over the soft wrinkled flesh and manipulating his balls. His groan was as arousing as his touch. “Jesus, Kat. Your mouth is like heaven.”
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She worked him in and out, taking him deep, lightly squeezing his balls, until he lifted her head from his body. “I’m saving this for when we have more time,” he told her in a strangled voice. “Right now I want to be inside you. Deep inside you.” He rolled on a condom with hands not quite steady. She opened her thighs to welcome him and he drove into her, filling her completely. Home! That was all Kat could think. This is home. And then the time for thinking was over as he rode her hard, the thickness of his cock dragging against the tight clasp of her vaginal walls. Everything faded away except this man and the joining of their bodies. Her blood raced and her heart thundered, her hips rocking with his as he pounded into her. And then she was falling into a void, spinning with him as she convulsed around him and his cock pulsed inside her. Blessed release. With the man she loved.
***** Rip was in his bathroom, the only place he was able to find any privacy. He’d slipped a disposable phone into the pocket of his slacks and, with the water running, just in case, dialed a familiar number. “I want to talk to Herrera,” he told Nando. “Right now.” Nando’s laugh made his nerves jump. “I don’t think he wants to talk to you. He leaves this all up to me.” “Damn it, I have to talk to him.” Rip couldn’t control the frustration in his voice. “I need some assurances about the hostages.” “We have sent you pictures, no? That should be assurance enough.” “Oh yeah,” Rip snorted. “Right. You send us a picture of four people who look like you’re using them for punching bags and expect everyone to be happy? The fucking Feds are sitting on everyone. They want guarantees.” “I don’t think anyone is in the position to be asking for that,” Nando pointed out to them. “We have the trump cards.” “What if the Feds or these other two guys who seem to have stuck their noses in here refuse to let us hand over the bonds before we have the hostages back?” “Who the fuck are they, anyway?” Rip ground his teeth. “They’re from some private agency. The secretary’s sister sicced them on us.” He paused. “What if they—any of them—have something up their sleeves they aren’t telling us about? Surely you don’t think they’ll just let ten million in blank bearer bonds walk out the door without some kind of guarantee about the hostages.”
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“Then it’s up to you to make them see the idiocy of their ways.” Rip raked his hands through his already rumpled hair. “I’m in a very bad spot here. I have to speak to Herrera. I need a real guarantee he’s going to let those people go. And when.” “You are in no position to be demanding anything, amigo. Just let it play out. Herrera knows what he’s doing.” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He snapped his phone shut and banged his hand on the vanity counter. Shit!
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Chapter Twelve Kat was a bundle of nerves in the morning but she knew Mike needed her to keep herself together. She’d given them everything she could about the location where the hostages were being held. Now it was up to them to pinpoint it. She fidgeted through breakfast, waiting for Ed’s call that he’d arrived. “If you push those eggs around anymore they’re going to jump off the plate,” Mike teased. She knew he was trying to ease her tension. “I’m sorry.” She set her fork down on the edge of her plate. “I’m just having a hard time waiting.” “I know, kitten.” He took one of her hands in his and squeezed it. “But I promise you we’ll get this done. Now come on. Eat a little. Then we’re going to put some alternate plans together for when Ed gets here.” Obediently she picked up her fork, put a tiny bite of egg in her mouth, chewed it and swallowed. It tasted like Styrofoam. “Do you think you should try calling Ron Pelley or that FBI agent again? Maybe they’ve heard something.” On her other side Mark snorted. “I’m sure they have. And I can also tell you we won’t hear a thing from them until the ransom drop, whatever it is, goes down and they still don’t have the hostages back. Then they’ll be more than happy for us to save their bacon.” “That’s sure the way things have been turning out the last year or so.” Mike could barely hide the bitterness in his voice. Kat looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I thought you guys did some contract work for the government, or am I mistaken?” “Not with the FBI though,” he told her. “They’re very territorial. Extremely so. And when they do end up needing us, you’d think we had shit all over us when they came to meet with us.” “Forget it,” Faith said. “Turf wars can wait until we get everyone back. Safe and sound.” She reached over and touched Kat’s hand. “We’ll get them back. Don’t worry. These guys can do anything.” They had room service send up a fresh pot of coffee, which the waiter brought when he came to clear their dishes. They pulled out the printouts of the aerial maps Andy had sent them, spread them on the table and settled down to try to figure out the best plan of attack. “I wish I could have pinned down the location of where they are a little better,” Kat told them. “Sometimes it works really well but with the problems I’ve had lately, even with Brent out of the picture…” 135
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“Quit it,” Mike said, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckle. “You’re doing great. You need to keep your mind clear so you can focus when we get more information to give you.” “When you get a better location on Victor Herrera’s estate, or acreage or whatever it is, I can use those coordinates and pictures to give you a better look at what’s on the ground. Maybe see how many guards there are and exactly where on the grounds they’re being held. And don’t forget about the dog.” “Thanks for reminding us. We’ll be counting on you for details, Kat.” Mark spread out the aerial photos. “And you can help us in the flyover too.” She wrinkled her forehead. “How can I do that?” “We’re going to get one chance to eyeball this. Mike and Ed will be doing their thing in the cockpit and I’ll be running a camera to capture everything we pass over. But we’ll need you and Faith to act as spotters.” She felt a little better at having a useful role to play. “I can do that.” “Good, good.” He cleared his throat. “Now. Let’s figure out what we need to take with us in our flyover. I emailed Ed a list of what to bring. Anything else we’ve already got in the plane.”
***** The hostages knew it was morning by the weak light filtering in through the high slit of a window. Eli climbed stiffly to his feet, gingerly working the kinks from his muscles. It had taken a long time but they’d finally stanched the bleeding from his nose and he’d satisfied himself that it wasn’t actually broken. He might have difficulty breathing for a while but at least it was intact. Lissa had just stirred, lifting her head from Sydney’s lap, and Mari was just coming out of the terrible excuse for a bathroom. He couldn’t believe how uncomplaining everyone was. He knew his wife had great inner strength but he was so proud of the way she was handling things. He had a new level of respect for both her and their daughter. And Mari. Ignoring her own injuries, she’d maintained a calm presence, never letting the others see how rattled she might be or what pain she might be in. She’d soothed Lissa when Sydney had retreated to the bathroom to pull herself together and worked hard to keep everyone’s spirits up, despite the pain he knew she was suffering. He’d used part of the time, sitting against the wall in the hot, humid dark, to try to figure out who in hell had fingered them. Who could have hooked up with their kidnappers—and he knew with a sure certainty now it was at least one of the drug cartels—and planned this. Who needed money so badly. Or hated them so much. Or both.
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His problem was the first people who came to mind he instinctively wanted to reject out of hand. He didn’t want to think that someone he was close to, did business with, would be involved in something like this. The wood bar slammed outside, the door opened and Pedro entered. Enrique followed him, carrying a tray with bottled water and the by now dreaded tortillas. He set the tray down against one of the walls, then stood back, arms folded across his chest. Eli had an urge to pick up the tray and throw it at him, but clenched his fists to keep from making a rash move. By now he’d kill for a steak and they all would have sold their souls for some halfway decent coffee. Even Lissa, who was being so brave and good he was enormously proud of her, said she’d be willing to beg for chocolate. But they said nothing, just waited for the two men to leave. Pedro raked his gaze over each of them, the malicious smile they’d come to expect twisting his lips. “Today may be a good day for you,” he said at last. “If everything goes according to plan, that is.” Eli felt a thread of hope wiggle through him. Was the ransom going to be paid? Would they actually be released? “What, nothing today?” Pedro prodded. “You should hope all the arrangements go through as planned. Otherwise,” he eyed Lissa, “I may have to find some other way to provide satisfaction to El Jefe.” Eli reached for his daughter and pushed her behind him. “Leave her alone.” “Or what?” Pedro laughed. “You aren’t in very much of a position to object to anything, Señor Wright. You should just pray your friends come through for you.” “Who exactly is El Jefe?” Eli asked. “And why can’t we meet him? If he’s responsible for this, why can’t I look him in the eye and asked how this happened?” “He has us to take care of things for him,” Pedro snapped. “He does not get personally involved in activities.” “I want to see him,” Eli pursued stubbornly. “Eli,” Sydney cautioned but he ignored her. He’d had enough. He wanted to meet his captor face-to-face. But Pedro, instead of answering him, reversed his rifle and jabbed it into Eli’s stomach. He doubled over from the pain, fighting the nausea that threatened to erupt from his mouth. He knew it wasn’t smart to keep antagonizing these men but he couldn’t stand to let himself be bullied. Besides, he hoped if he took the brunt of the abuse they’d leave the women alone. “We are done here,” Pedro told him. “That’s answer enough for you.” He nodded to Enrique and the two men backed out of the door. Then the wooden bar slammed back into place again.
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Anthony Delaware sat in silence while Ron Pelley signed the receipt for delivery of the bearer bonds. The messenger from the investment house tore off a copy and gave it to him, nodded and left as quietly as he’d come. Pelley ripped open the thick delivery envelope, slid the bonds out onto his desk and counted them very carefully. “Is it all there?” the agent asked. Pelley nodded. “All in order. I had my investment banker sign them so there was a neutral signature.” “Ten million dollars doesn’t make as big a stack as I thought it would.” Pelley grimaced. “The kidnapper wanted the bonds in large denominations. Doesn’t take up so much room that way.” He looked up at Delaware. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck finding out who this is, have you?” The agent swallowed a bitter taste in his mouth. “I wish. Whoever this is, he’s obviously done it before and often enough to know how to get around all our technological tricks. And no one on the streets is giving anything up. Believe me, we’ve hit all of our contacts.” He’d had calls coming in all throughout the previous day and into the evening. Every agent had pulled in their snitches and pressed them for information. All with the same results. Nada. “The problem,” his boss had told him when he called for some added muscle, “is there are so many kidnappings going on all the time it’s hard to sort out one from the other. Last year there were more than four hundred. That exceeds one a day.” The news depressed Delaware even more. He’d also come to the realization that even if they knew something, people were too scared to talk. “When they’re more afraid of someone else than the big, bad FBI,” Anthony said before ending his phone call, “you can be pretty damn sure we’re dealing with a cartel. They invented the word vicious.” He realized Ron Pelley was saying something to him and jerked himself out of his mental wanderings. “I’m sorry. What did you say?” “I said,” Pelley repeated, irritation in every word, “that I don’t like the idea of just turning this ransom over without some kind of guarantee. You don’t even know where the bonds will be going.” “We’re not that stupid, Mr. Pelley. We have a plan in place.” He nodded to the tech who’d arrived back early that morning. The man stepped up next to the desk, took the stack of bonds, riffled through them and pulled one partway out. From his pocket he took a thin plastic envelope and a pair of latex gloves. Snapping on the gloves, he removed a tiny wafer-thin snippet of paper from the envelope and attached it to the underside of one corner of the bond he’d selected. “What’s that?” Pelley asked.
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“A brand new type of GPS tracker. Developed especially for Homeland Security but they’re letting us give it a test drive. If they run any scanners over it, they won’t find anything because the frequency is so different.” “And if they do?” Pelley demanded. “They could kill the hostages without a second thought.” Delaware stared at him, expressionless. “We know what we’re doing, Mr. Pelley. You just do your thing and we’ll do ours.”
***** They were still pouring over the aerial shots Andy had sent them when Mark’s cell phone chirped, he checked the caller ID and he flipped it open. “Okay, Andy. Go. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay, wait.” He pulled his laptop around, clicked on the email icon and a multi-page document opened up. “Okay. Got it. Thanks. And keep digging.” Three pairs of eyes stared at him as he disconnected the call. “Give,” Mike said. “Andy’s got us a little more information on the three stooges.” They’d left the little printer hooked up in Mike and Kat’s suite, so all Mark had to do was click on the print icon and wait for the pages to spit out. He began handing them around as he pulled them out of the tray. “Holy crap,” Mike said, scanning the first two pages in his hand. “Ryan Post seems to have gotten himself in a little over his head expanding his spas. He’d already gone through most of his trust fund and tried some quick schemes to get it back.” “He certainly had some…um…exotic ideas,” Kat commented, reading over Mike’s shoulder. “How does anyone go through a million dollars in that little time?” “By having his brains in his ass instead of his head,” Mark snorted. “And trying to outdo his very much smarter brother-in-law.” “So are you saying he borrowed from the wrong people?” Faith wanted to know. “Looks like it,” Mark told her. “Unfortunately Andy’s still trying to follow the money trail. The paper’s changed hands more times than a deck of cards. If it leads us back to Victor Herrera, we’ve got our answer.” “Or,” Mike said, scanning the next couple of pages, “it could be Ron Pelley, whose personal net worth has taken a tumble with the economy. He’s been taking some high flyers in some pretty unorthodox ways to recoup his losses and keeping things hidden from Eli Wright. He also has an ex-wife who he pays hefty alimony to who isn’t the kind to be sympathetic to circumstances.” “Let me see that.” Mark grabbed the sheet out of her hand. “Hmm. You know someone like him, if he found himself under the hammer of the wrong people, could be ripe to approach for a stunt like this. He could even have been pressured to use one of Wright’s companies to move drugs into the country.” 139
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“I don’t like the sound of that. Andy better dig deeper into this.” Mike was reading over his shoulder. “Uh-oh. Look here.” He pointed to part of the report. “This could be an indication he’s trying to fix the problem by diverting Wright International funds into private offshore accounts. A piece of the ransom would get him healthy again in a hurry.” “And what’s behind door number three?” Kat asked. “The mysterious Rand Prescott?” “Not so mysterious,” Mike answered, looking at the last batch of sheets from the printer. “Started as an oil wildcatter, then began shuffling and flipping oil leases, expanded into real estate development and is now building in the Middle East and South America as well as the States.” “How about Mexico?” “Not that it shows up. But his last two megaprojects were contracted in partnership with Wright. Andy’s chasing the details to see if there’s some money business there. On paper, Prescott looks fine but words and numbers can easily be made to lie. If he’s in trouble, his share of the ransom could fix him up just fine and cover up anything funny he’s been doing with the partnership funds.” “Well.” Kat leaned back in her chair and blew out a breath. “Before we weren’t sure if any of these men were involved. Now it seems we have no shortage of suspects. Just great.” Just then the bell on the laptop dinged to announce an incoming email. Mark clicked on the icon to open it and the latest message from the kidnappers rolled across the screen. “They’ve made no arrangements to turn over the hostages,” Mike pointed out. “I can’t believe the FBI would go for that.” “They’re working in a delicate political situation here,” Faith pointed out. “I think they’re just hoping a miracle will happen and the hostages will show up on their doorstep.” “Idiot,” Mike spat. “This is worse than I thought. There’s no mention of an exchange or anything.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I just wish—” “Wishing doesn’t cut it,” Mark said. “They’ll play games with the FBI as long as they can, just for kicks. You know it will be up to us to get them out, no matter what.” Mark looked at his watch. “Okay. I’m going to touch base with Andy again. We should be hearing from Ed any time now. He said about eleven and it’s almost noon.” As if on cue, his cell phone rang and he flipped it open. “Yeah? About time. What? Okay, okay. We’re on our way.” “Something wrong?” Faith asked. Mark shrugged. “I hope not. That was Ed. He’s at the airport and he says he’s got a surprise for us.”
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“A surprise?” Mike lifted his eyebrows. “It better be a damn good one under the circumstances.” “Well, let’s get going and find out.” They gathered everything up and were out the door in five minutes.
***** The email arrived promptly at ten o’clock Central Time in Ron Pelley’s office. “They want me to go sit in front of the Alamo with ten million dollars worth of bearer bonds like it’s scrap paper and just wait for someone to come along?” Pelley was incredulous. “I don’t like it much myself,” Delaware said. “But don’t worry. We’ll have agents all over the place and don’t forget the little surprise buried in the box.” “This says to be there at twelve thirty and someone will get the package from me. Why do they keep dragging this out?” “I told you,” Delaware said. “Creates more tension. Makes you dance to their tune. I hate these bastards. They think they’ve got all the cards.” “Yeah? Well, right now they do.” Pelley rubbed his face with his hands. “Shouldn’t I call the others? Let them know I got the money together? That things are moving along? What time the pickup is?” “And if they ask you about the hostages, what are you going to tell them? Let’s just wait until we see what happens. We still don’t know if either of them is involved.” “And what about the people from Phoenix? We haven’t heard from them and that worries me. Doesn’t Katherine want to know what’s happening with her sister?” Delaware slammed his fist onto the top of the desk. “I’m praying they keep their noses out of this and wait to hear from us but my gut tells us they may be ten steps ahead of us on this.” “Maybe if we’d kept them in the loop—” Pelley began. “You don’t keep Phoenix in the loop,” Delaware spat. “You bring them in and they take over. Katherine Culhane wants to know if we’re going to get her sister back and I can’t contact her because the people she’s with are…are…” “Dangerous?” A funny smile twisted Pelley’s lips. “Let’s get moving on this,” Delaware said, shoving the bonds into the padded envelope Pelley would carry them in. “Give me a minute,” Pelley said, heading for the men’s room.
***** “I think it would have been appropriate for Ron Pelley to touch base with us after this latest email,” Rand Prescott said to Agent Hopewell. “I’m shocked that he hasn’t.”
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“I spoke to Special Agent Delaware,” the agent told him. “He’s trying to keep everything contained as much as possible. This whole ransom thing is going to be tricky enough as it is.” “We were all contacted,” Prescott protested. “We should all be involved.” “Bad idea,” Hopewell said. “That’s not what the kidnappers want. Right now they’re calling the shots.” “And we’re doing nothing?” Prescott’s eyes shot up. “What the hell kind of way is that to manage this business?” “It’s the best way we can under the circumstances. I will be in constant telephone contact with Agent Delaware.” “I want to know exactly what is happening every minute,” Prescott insisted. “Eli Wright is a good business colleague and he doesn’t deserve to have this happen.” “No one does,” Hopewell said. “We just do the best we can.” Prescott just shook his head, excused himself and headed for the bathroom. Maybe he could wash away his secrets with a hot shower and no one would ever have to know.
***** Ryan Post had drunk himself to sleep the night before, risen with the world’s most god-awful headache and now was slugging down black coffee as fast as he could. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to go home the night before. Too many shadows in the vast condo that was much too large for him. Too many things he didn’t want to think about. So he and the agent on the night shift had bunked down in the spa, the agent watching him as if he was a smear on a slide while he put away the booze. How could Mister Goody Two-Shoes possibly have any idea the kind of garbage he was going through? The big dream of the chain of spas. The overwhelming desire to show his sister and brother-in-law that he could beat them on the playing field. The financial roller coaster he constantly rode. The things he’d had to do to try to stabilize himself. Why had life decided to kick him in the head, anyway? Filling his mug one more time, he stumbled toward the bathroom in his private suite. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said over his shoulder. “Good idea,” Hopewell muttered.
***** “Nando, you have to let me talk to him,” Rip hissed into his cell phone. “I can’t keep hiding in the bathroom and there’s something important he needs to know. Right this minute.”
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“You are making me very unhappy with your demands,” Nando said, the anger in his voice vibrating across the connection. “This is damn important and I only have a minute. Put him on. And I mean it, or I’m calling the whole thing off. You can kill the damn hostages and take the fallout.” “Oh? And then where will you be, mi amigo?” “No place where you can find me, that’s for sure.” There was a long silence, then Victor Herrera’s deep voice echoed in his ear. “This better be as important as you say it is,” he said, his voice showing his irritation. “What couldn’t you tell Nando?” “I wanted to make sure you knew this yourself.” He took in a breath to steady himself. “The FBI has an almost invisible GPS they put in with the bonds. Even if your courier hands off the package, they’ll still be able to track it.” “Jesu Cristo.” The curse burst from his lips. “All right. We’ll need to teach them a lesson. Next time they won’t screw around with us.” The call was disconnected. Rip stood in the bathroom, holding the cell phone, shaking uncontrollably.
***** Anthony Delaware had agents all around Alamo Plaza in the guise of tourists. He’d tried to pick the best vantage points but the way the Plaza was arranged, with an interior road that swept past the landmark itself, it was difficult to predict how Pelley would be approached. If they were lucky, the contact would make the connection right in front of the Alamo, in the area where cars were forbidden, giving them all time to get into position to follow. Pelley was being a real pain in the ass. He hadn’t wanted the tracker in the bonds, then he’d wanted something more reliable. First he’d wanted someone sitting with him, then he wanted them all to go away. His nerves were so obviously shot Delaware wasn’t even sure they’d be able to get him through the handoff. Well, they’d just have to do the best they could. So now Pelley sat on the low stone wall facing the old mission, clutching the padded envelope to his chest and looking more suspicious than any kidnapper could appear. “We’re almost to handoff,” Delaware said into the throat mike concealed beneath his shirt. “Everyone set?” The agents all checked in. He had people on foot and people in cars, so they were covered no matter what. And everyone had been warned to follow at a good distance so the messenger wasn’t spooked.
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His eyes never stopped moving, watching the cars that pulled into vacant parking spaces, or slowed to a crawl going by. The people walking close to Pelley, only to then move away. When it happened it took them all by surprise. A motorcycle whipped into the circle from Alamo Plaza, came to a rolling stop in front of Pelley, the rider grabbed the envelope then revved his engine and sped away. Pelley stood up, shouting, “Wait, wait,” and looked around wildly. “Someone get the hell on this,” Delaware said into his mike. “Now.” Two vehicles pulled out into the street, following the route the motorcycle had taken. “I’ve got him on the tracker,” one the agents reported. “Following well behind.” “What the hell happened?” Pelley demanded, stalking over to Delaware. “That guy just showed up out of nowhere.” “We’ve got it under control,” Delaware assured him, although he wished he felt more confident about it. “Yeah? Well, you better hope you do and that nothing happens to the Wrights or Mari Culhane.” Delaware let out a tired sigh. “Let’s go back to your office and wait for the next email. The one this morning said as soon as he had the bonds you’d be notified where to find them.” “But you’re supposed to be finding them first, right?” Pelley argued. “What if your people lose that guy? What if the kidnapper decides not to release them? Have you even figured out which cartel is responsible for this?” “The office,” Delaware repeated. “We’ll talk there.” Deep down he had a really bad feeling about this whole thing that he didn’t want to acknowledge.
***** Kat did her best to keep herself calm on the drive to the airport, even though her stomach was tied in knots and her heart had kicked over into an erratic rhythm. She was so terrified for her sister and the Wrights. What if she and Mike hadn’t run into each other at the airport? What if she’d refused his invitation to lunch? What if… Enough. Think about what’s going to happen next. She just prayed that by the time they pinpointed the exact location where the hostages were being held and got there to rescue them, they’d still be in time. Mike sat in the backseat of the SUV with her, his arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him as if infusing her with his strength. She leaned against him, grateful for his warmth and his affection. At the moment it was the only thing holding her together.
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Mark turned onto the side road leading to the airport and drove through the gate, turning toward the small terminal and looking for the Phoenix helicopter. Mike had told Kat it was a good-sized Bell Ranger that they’d used when they rescued Mark, so she knew when the time came it should be sufficient for what they needed to do. Suddenly Mark slammed on the brakes. “What the hell?” Mike sat up and leaned over the back of the front seat. “What’s the matter? What… Holy shit!” “Oh my god, he did it,” Faith said, her voice touched with awe. “What?” Kat asked. “What is it?” Mark moved the vehicle forward again, then stopped and turned off the engine. When Kat opened the door and hopped out, her eyes widened at the sight of a grinning man leaning against the shiniest, biggest black helicopter she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen that many but she’d ridden in a couple and seen some at air shows. But certainly nothing like this. The sun gleamed on the black paint and the rotors looked poised to cut into the air at mach speed. This looked like a machine built for war. “What did you do, bro?” Mike asked, striding forward. Kat knew the other man had to be Ed D’Antoni. He and Mike looked too much alike not to be related. “Made a phone call after we hung up,” Ed told them, “caught a ride out with a friend and made a stop in El Cajon to pick up our newest toy.” Faith’s jaw dropped. “You guys bought a Black Hawk?” Mark nodded. “We have a couple of things coming up that we really decided would be handled better with one of these babies.” He ran his hand reverently over the outside. “What does that insignia mean?” Kat asked, pointing to a circle with the letters NODT in the center. Mike laughed. “One of my brother’s little jokes. He was sick and tired of all the alphabet agencies, so this stands for Not One Damn Thing.” As tense as she was, Kat still couldn’t help chuckling. “Anyway,” Ed went on, “they said it was ready so we picked it up.” “We?” Mike’s eyebrows rose quizzically. “Yeah, got another surprise.” He rapped on the side of the ’copter, the big door slid open and three men jumped down to the ground. “Holy shit!” Mike just stared at them, then turned to Kat. “Kitten, meet our senior partner and the brains behind Phoenix, Dan Romeo. Next to him is Troy Arsenault and the other lug is Rick Latrobe, who I thought was still on his honeymoon.”
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Rick laughed. “Kelly’s busy setting up the new kennels so she can start her new training session and she politely told me I might just be in the way.” He looked at Kat. “She trains dogs for corporate security.” “I got back yesterday from that other…trip,” Troy said, “and Dan and I decided we didn’t want to miss all the fun.” “You didn’t think we would let you have all the fun, did you?” Dan asked. They’d come for her, Kat knew, because of Mike. These men had just dropped everything to help her out. Her throat tightened with tears that wanted to break loose and she had to work to croak out a “Thank you”. “No thanks necessary,” Dan said. “Let’s just get going here.” Mike was already jogging to where their plane was parked, while Ed went into the terminal to make arrangements to move the helicopter into a hangar. They had no intention of leaving it out on the tarmac for any longer than absolutely necessary. “I checked the weather and filed a flight plan,” he told everyone when he came back outside. Mike was moving the Gulfstream out of the hangar and taxiing over to where everyone stood. When he got there, he cut the engines and climbed down. “Did you talk to Andy?” he asked Dan when he came back out. “Yes. And he emailed me everything he sent to you. Let’s get airborne and we’ll take it from there.” “Are we all set inside?” Mark wanted to know. His partner nodded. “I told them we’d be doing some sightseeing over the Pacific and maybe down along the Baja coast. Mike said there’s a lot of traffic in that area and we can lose ourselves.” “Let’s hope so.” He turned to the others. “Climb in, everyone.” While Mike and Ed did their preflight check, everyone else climbed up into the cabin of the plane. Then the two pilots took their places in the cockpit and Mark pulled the door closed. Troy opened one of two hard plastic cases he’d carried off the helicopter with him and took out a small video camera, which he handed to Mark. “I’ll be taking stills while you handle this.” From another case he took three pairs of binoculars, which he passed out to the women and Dan. “Here’s the drill,” Dan said. “Two of us on one side of the plane, the rest on the other. Those of you with the binoculars look for anything we might need pictures of. Anything that fits with what you saw in your viewing, Kat. Even if you’re not sure, we’ll get a shot of it. Then we’ll piece everything together when we get back to the hotel.” Kat shifted to look at him. “I told Mike and the Hallorans if we can get a tighter fix on what we’re looking for, I can do another remote viewing session and probably get you a really clear picture of the setup. Guards even and things like that.” 146
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“Good.” He reached out to tap Mike on the shoulder. “All set?” “Ready to go.” The whine of the engines filled the cabin, then they were moving forward, taxiing to the runway and with a rush and a thrust of the engines, they lifted off the ground. Please, please, please, Kat prayed silently, gripping her binoculars. Please let us find them in time.
***** Javier Santiago, the mechanic at the airport, finished his chore, wiped his hands carefully on a rag he pulled from his pocket and walked to a far corner of the tarmac. Pretending to examine something on a plane at a distant tie-down, he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to him, pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a speed dial number. “It is me,” he told the person who answered. “I have some information.” “What kind?” Nando asked at the other end of the connection. The mechanic had gotten this job through the influence of Victor Herrera, in exchange for keeping his eyes and ears open. Over the past few years he had fed the cartel leader bits and pieces of information, justifying his situation. But today he was sure he had something that would earn him recognition with the man. “You will tell El Jefe that I was the one who called with this?” the man asked anxiously. “I want him to know it was me.” “Just tell me what you have,” Nando snapped. “For all I know it may be completely useless. Some of the things you have told me turned out to be nothing.” “But not this time,” Javier protested. “A big plane landed here yesterday. Gulfstream.” “So what? Plenty of them land at your airport. They mean nothing to us.” “But these people spoke to the pilots of the plane you told me to hide in a hangar,” he went on, his hand clutching the cell tighter. “To have someone call the manager and pretend to be one of those pilots.” There was a long moment of silence before Nando spoke again. “What about them?” “I overheard them ask the pilots a lot of questions when they finally showed up. They are here about the people who…are visiting you.” “And?” Nando prodded impatiently. “You called me about them yesterday. One would suspect others to be looking for them.” “Today another group of men arrived to meet with them. These people came in a brand new Black Hawk.” Javier could hear Nando cursing fluently. “Do you know who they are?” 147
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“I finally got a chance to check on the computer when the manager was out of the terminal. They are owned by a company called the Phoenix Agency.” The cursing became louder and more violent. “These people are a curse,” Nando spat. “They mean nothing good for us. I would rather deal with the government.” “So this is important?” Javier asked, still anxious that his contribution be recognized. “Important in a bad way,” Nando told him. “Along with the other news he received today, El Jefe will be in a rage. We will have to do some maneuvering. All right. You have done well. I must let El Jefe know about this new turn of events immediately. Son of a bitch.” The mechanic stood there, holding a dead phone, hoping somewhere in all of this was a reward for him.
***** Everyone was on edge as the plane flew over the foothills of the Occidental West Sierra Madres in Sinaloa. Mike took them down as low as he could without drawing suspicions from anyone on the ground. Troy Arsenault had the small video camera on, scanning right to left as they passed one area, then another. Troy shot footage first from one side, then the other, until they were all sure they’d covered the maximum area needed to pinpoint locations and plan an extraction. Mike took the plane higher and headed back to San Diego.
***** The hostages were sitting on the floor, backs against the wall, trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible. Through the high, narrow slit of a window they could see the sun had risen to its zenith and the heat in the small hut was again growing to an almost unbearable level. Mari though if they did manage to get out of this she might take a trip to Alaska where she could wrap the cold around herself for a week or so. Her clothes, like everyone else’s, were sticky with sweat and they were all beginning to smell a little ripe. And despite everyone’s brave protestations, the sweat came as much from fear about their situation as anything else. If only she was a telepath, like some of Kat’s friends, she could be sending messages out to tell people where they were. Katherine’s friends will find us. I have to hang onto that. The swelling on Eli’s nose had finally gone down a little and he looked as if it wasn’t throbbing quite as much, but she could see he still had difficulty breathing.
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Mari’s head no longer felt as if a jackhammer was trying to drive its way through it but in its wake she was left with a dull ache that kept her on the edge of nausea. Mari could see that Lissa was finally beginning to fray at the ages. She was surprised that the young girl had lasted as long as she had, showing a level of courage many young people didn’t have. “What’s that?” Lissa asked, as the sound of an engine straining stopped outside the door. Everyone jumped when the door slammed open with its usual ferocious sound and Mari wondered what was happening now. They had already had what she supposed was the noon meal of water and the dreaded tortillas, so why was Pedro standing in front of them with a vicious scowl on his face? As he’d done before, Eli pushed Lissa in back of him. Sydney stood on one side of him, and Mari moved to the other. Pedro and Enrique looked beyond unhappy. They pointed their rifles at the group. “We are leaving here,” he told them. For a minute no one said anything. Mari wet her dry, cracked lips. “Leaving? Where are you taking us?” “Shut up,” Enrique growled. He swung his rifle from side to side. “Move. Stand far apart from each other.” “Wait a minute,” Eli began. Sydney touched his arm. “Please. Let’s just do what they say. We’ll get through this. We will.” “Your wife is a smart woman,” Pedro chuckled. Then the smile fell away. “Now move.” As soon as they were lined up the way he ordered, two more men came into the room, also wearing khaki shirts and pants and the same heavy boots. They carried lengths of rope with them and quickly bound everyone’s hands behind their backs. Then they hobbled everyone’s ankles, leaving only enough play in the rope to allow them to walk in a jerky fashion. One of them took a picture of them, standing there bound and incapacitated, and Mari wondered if they were going to take them out somewhere and shoot them. But then the men manhandled them out of the hut and she bit down on her lips hard to keep from asking any questions as they shoved them into the black panel truck that had brought them there. They were roughly tossed inside the empty cargo area, doors slammed and in a moment the van began moving down a bumpy road. Mari wondered if she would ever see her sister again.
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Chapter Thirteen Ron Pelley rode in the car with Anthony Delaware, one of four cars doing a “follow and drop” on the signal coming from the envelope with the bearer bonds. One car had finally caught up with the motorcycle and relayed the position back to the others. In staggered movements that car dropped back, another took its place and so on. The motorcycle hadn’t entered the interstate, instead taking side roads. Delaware had placed a hand radio on the seat between himself and Pelley so they could both hear what was happening. “I’ve still got him,” the agent picking up the signal on a laptop told him. “Everyone keep heading in the same general direction.” “No one for more than five or six blocks at a time,” Delaware warned. He glanced over at the man sitting next to him. He could tell his nerves were on the ragged edge and he had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen next. “Boss, he’s stopped,” the man with the laptop said, interrupting the agent’s thoughts. “The signal shows him dead ahead of us.” “What do you see?” Delaware asked. “He entered the parking garage on Houston Street. We’re gonna have to follow him or we’ll lose him.” “Just watch yourself,” Delaware warned. “Don’t let him spot you. Go past him and radio back to me. Everyone else fall back and wait for my orders.” The silence stretched out with no sound from any of the other agents. Finally a voice came over the radio. “Boss?” The man sounded none too happy. “Yeah?” “We…ah…that is, we lost him.” “What?” Delaware screamed. “How the hell could you lose him? Didn’t you follow him into the garage?” “Yes and we watched the down ramps while we were going up. I’m telling you, he just disappeared.” “That is absolutely not possible. Check again.” “He’s not here,” the agent insisted. “Damn it all to hell.” Delaware wanted to throw his radio through the windshield. Instead he clicked the Talk button. “Everyone meet me at the garage where we lost the motorcycle. Pull up to the first level and watch for me.”
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They went through the place with a microscope but in the end they came up with nothing. They’d been outfoxed. “He must have had a closed van waiting,” one of the agents said. “Just pulled right into it. It could be sitting on any one of these levels, locked tight and looking empty.” In the back of his mind Delaware wondered if Pelley had passed along the information about the prototype GPS chip to the other two men. Or even directly to the kidnappers. So they’d know how to block the signal. How the hell was he supposed to find that out? As they pulled out onto the street again, Pelley’s cell phone rang and a text message popped up on his screen. Cursing, he showed it to Delaware. You made a mistake. Now everyone will pay. Check for new email. All the FBI agent could think was, Shit.
***** Kat tried to control her impatience as they flew along the coast of Baja California toward San Diego. The bobbing sailboats, Jet Skis, ski boats and other watercraft might make a beautiful picture for tourists but she wanted to get where they were going and see if they could find where Mari and the Wrights were being held. All she needed was an approximate area and coordinates and she felt inside that she could “view” a clear picture of what was going on. They cut east across the coastline, passed over scattered signs of civilization and then up the foothills of the Sierra Madres Occidental Range. Everyone was poised and ready, waiting for the right area to come into view. They’d been in Sinaloa air space for less than twenty minutes when Ed turned around and yelled back, “We’re coming into range, according to your best guesstimate. Get ready.” Then Kat gave an excited cry and pressed a finger against the window. “There,” she called, trying to contain her excitement. “Right below us. See it?” If they hadn’t been looking carefully they might have missed it, hidden among the acres of what could only be marijuana plants and copses of native trees. The red tile roof of what seemed to be a massive estate house peeked tentatively through the foliage, the hint of other buildings scattered at either side of it. “Got it,” Troy said, working the video camera. Mark was at another window snapping stills as fast as he could. “See up there on the hill?” Faith pointed. “Oh damn. We’re already past it. I could have sworn there was a small outbuilding up there.” “It’ll show up on the pictures and the video,” Dan assured her. “I don’t want to take the chance of making another pass and calling attention to ourselves.” He raised his voice and hollered to the cockpit. “Mike. Haul ass out of here right now. Before someone below gets out their own binoculars.” “Hauling away,” Mike shouted back. 151
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He lifted the nose of the plane slightly, it began a smooth ascent and then they were away from the Herrera land and heading toward the coast.
***** Lying on the hard metal floor of the van, Eli heard Pedro and Enrique conversing in Spanish in low tones. With a working knowledge of the language, he strained his ears to try to make out what they were saying. It appeared they weren’t being transported very far, just to another area of their captor’s land. He wondered why they were being moved at all. Had someone found out where they were? Tried to rescue them? No, he would have known if anything like that had happened. But something was wrong. Both the men seemed agitated and he kept hearing the Spanish words for “double cross”, then “ransom”, then “trap”. What the hell was going on? Who had they contacted for the ransom? It had to have been Ron Pelley. No one else would be logical. So had Ron screwed up somehow? Had he called in the FBI and they had made a mess of things? He glanced at the women, trying to make themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. Lissa was trying hard to blink back tears, Mari’s eyes were closed but lines of pain scored her face and the long cut along the length of Sydney’s face looked as if it might be getting infected. Shit! Wherever they were being taken, he’d have to try to figure something out. Maybe there would be a larger window they could squeeze through. Or maybe… Before he could finish running through scenarios in his mind, the van jolted to a stop. A minute later the side panel slid open and hands pulled them roughly from the vehicle. Eli blinked at the building in front of him. It could have been a duplicate of the one where they’d been held, except this one was completely surrounded by trees. And there were no other men with enormous guns hanging from shoulder straps lounging in the area. Pedro pulled open the door to the hut and one by one each of them was shoved inside. Eli looked around. The first thing he spotted was the window, high up like the last one but a lot larger. It was protected by trees and foliage, not completely exposed. If he could figure out the guards’ schedule and if anyone was left to keep an eye on things, maybe, just maybe, they had a way out of here. For right now he just needed to keep everyone’s spirits up and make sure they didn’t deteriorate physically. He wondered idly how long a person could subsist on a diet of water and tortillas.
*****
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The first thing Anthony Delaware had Ron Pelley do when they returned to his office was check for the promised email. A sick feeling gripped him as he saw the photo of the hostages, hands bound, ankles hobbled, bruised and damaged and lined up as if facing a firing squad. He could only hope that the threat was implied rather than real and that all the hostages were still alive. He printed out the message, then assembled all the people who had been involved in the ransom drop in Pelley’s conference room. “As you read this, Señor Rasgon, I remind you that we had a deal. You have stupidly made a bad mistake,” he read from the printout. “Even so, I have outwitted you. But the price is now fifteen million. Five million additional. No more tricks, no attempts to locate the hostages or we’ll be sending you their bodies. We have been forced to move them to a different location. New instructions to follow.” Everyone sat looking at Ron Pelley. “What?” He threw up his hands. “I was the one who told you not to play games with these people. Remember?” “I’d like to know how they were aware of the tracking device,” Mary Alvarez said. She’d been in the original tail car. “You were the only one who knew about it.” “Maybe they have more sophisticated equipment than the FBI does.” His tone of voice was surly, his posture defensive. “And who the hell is Señor Rasgon?” Boyd Delco, another agent, threw in. “Is this someone we’re supposed to know? This is the first time a specific name has appeared in any of these messages. Why is he giving us a clue now?” “An interesting point,” Delaware told them. “Maybe he’s sending a real warning.” He looked at Pelley accusingly. The man in question snorted. “Not me. You know I’ve been with you every minute. You know that. You even had someone sleep on my couch and you’ve tapped my phones and computers. And I have absolutely no idea who this Señor Whoever is.” Delaware held his eyes until Pelley looked down, a flush staining his cheekbones. He’s hiding something but what the hell could it be? If he’s the one who set this up, we’d better find out damn soon. And is Señor Rasgon an alias for whoever set this up? As soon as he finished with this briefing he’d call his office and have them run it through every database they had access to. “I can’t think where else it would have come from,” he said to Pelley at last. “If you’ve got any ideas, now would be a good time to let us have them.” “I don’t understand why we haven’t even been able to find out who the kidnappers are,” Mary Alvarez put in. “We’re running blind here.” “Don’t think I don’t know it,” Delaware told her. He looked at Pelley again. “If we knew who their contact was, we could squeeze him and find out. I’m not used to a situation where I don’t even know who’s pulling the strings. Maybe identifying this Rasgon will give us some answers. Finally.”
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Again he let his eyes travel to Pelley. Despite being allowed to shower and change in his private bathroom, the man looked rumpled and used, strain drawing lines on his face, his hair disarranged from running his fingers through it. The image of the highpowered, high-priced executive had long disappeared. God, he’d love to pin all this shit on him. With great, great pleasure. “I’m telling you again I don’t know anything,” Pelley snapped. “And besides all this, what’s happening with the people from the Phoenix Agency? Shouldn’t you be calling them? Katherine Culhane’s sister is a hostage and I’m sure she’d like to know what’s going on.” “The longer I can keep them out of it, the better off we are,” Delaware snapped. . “I hate private agencies sticking their noses into our business.” “Maybe they don’t like the way we’re handling our end of the business,” Alvarez pointed out in a bitter tone. “Goddamn restrictions and red tape tie us up all the time.” “That’s the fucking truth,” Delaware muttered. “I can throw government bullshit at them all day but my gut tells me they’re not waiting for us, however. They aren’t the kind of people to take a backseat. I just hope they don’t make a mess of things playing cowboy.” “What about the rest of the money?” Mary asked, turning to Pelley. “Can you gather it quickly? And turn it into more bearer bonds?” “It will take a little doing but I can arrange that,” Pelley snapped. “In fact, if you’ll let me go to my office, I’ll get started on it right now.” “Fine. Mary?” He looked at Alvarez. “Keep him company and don’t let him out of your sight. The rest of you? We’ll start breaking this down and try to figure out what happened.” “I need to make a quick pit stop,” Pelley said. “Do you want Agent Alvarez to accompany me there too?” Delaware had to restrain himself to keep from punching the other man. “I think you can handle that yourself. But hell, you must have a bladder the size of a pea. Maybe I should cut off all your liquids.” He made a sound of disgust. “Just make it snappy.” Mary stopped next to him on the way out of the room and leaned close to him, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Anthony? I can decipher Señor Rasgon for you. We still won’t know exactly who he is but it will narrow things down.” He tugged her into a corner of the room. “Okay. I’m all ears.”
***** The hostages glanced around their new prison. Just as they’d thought, it was almost a duplicate of the other one. Adobe walls, dirt floor, filthy, crude bathroom facilities. The first thing Mari did was check to make sure this bathroom had paper towels, wet a batch of them and made sure everyone wiped their faces. She insisted on cleaning the
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cut on Sydney’s face as best she could, praying that the signs of infection she was seeing were superficial and water would keep it at bay. Sydney and Lissa seemed at the end of their resources. Eli urged them to sit down, backs to the wall, and close their eyes. Lissa leaned over and put her head in her mother’s lap. When Mari was confident they had dozed off she motioned for Eli to stand in a corner with her. She had assessed the situation much as he had and pointed to the window. “I saw it too,” Eli said. “If we can figure out the guard rotation, it might be a possibility.” “What do you think happened?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Do you think there was trouble with the ransom?” “I wish I knew. I’m still trying to figure out how this whole thing was set up. Someone had to give these people the information on our flight, when we’d be in San Diego, where we’d be eating lunch.” Mari hesitated a moment before speaking. “I hate to say this but do you think it could be Ryan? I’m sorry but I couldn’t help overhearing the argument in your office when he came to borrow money.” Eli gave a mirthless laugh. “It’s no big secret. He had a very public argument with Sydney at the country club at a fundraising dinner.” He shook his head. “He blew through his trust fund like an alligator through bait and I don’t know exactly what shape his spas are in. Or what other mess he might have gotten himself into.” “It’s just so hard to think of him involved in something this despicable.” She shook her head. “Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m just praying very hard that my sister’s friends can figure something out.” “I’ve heard the Phoenix Agency is very good,” Eli told her, “but are they this good? No one even knows where we are.” Mari nibbled on her thumbnail. “You know, my sister, Katherine, could be their ace in the hole.” “What do you mean?” “I told you. Katherine’s a clairvoyant but with a specific slant to her ability. She does remote viewing.” “Yes. Now I remember.” Eli rubbed his forehead. “She ‘sees’ things?” “Right. So like I explained, if she has coordinates, she can ‘view’ the location and tell you what’s happening there. Or she can work from a photo, or sometimes even the photos of the people involved.” “God.” He blew out a breath. “Let’s hope to hell she can ‘see’ where we are. That may be our only chance.” “I know that if Katherine can give them the details they want, the Phoenix Agency has what it takes to rescue us.”
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“So we should pray for Katherine, right?” His grin was lopsided. “Meanwhile, help me figure out the situation with the guards. If we get any kind of lag time, maybe we can make it through that window and out through the trees.” “We’ll need a lot of luck,” Mari pointed out. “And then we have to pray we can find someone to help us who doesn’t work for our so-called host before we all get lost and die.” Eli grimaced. “Hardly a pleasant thought. Okay, let’s see what we can do to help ourselves while sending thoughts and prayers to your sister.”
***** Kat wanted to shout at everyone to hurry, hurry, hurry until they landed back in San Diego and drove to the hotel. They were barely in the suite she and Mark were sharing before she asked to have the camera unloaded onto the laptop, almost grabbing it from Dan’s hands in her haste. “I’m sorry,” she told him, pulling back. “I just—” “It’s okay.” He smiled at her. “We’re all anxious.” He removed the SIM card from the camera, inserted it in the laptop’s reader and gave it the command to unload. In seconds rows of pictures began unwinding across the screen, more than a hundred all told. “God.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “How will I ever figure out which ones to concentrate on?” “Take it easy, kitten.” Mike came up behind her, eased her into a chair, rubbed her shoulders to ease the tension. “You know what you’re looking for. Let’s just take them one at a time. Meanwhile Troy can replay the disk from the video camera on the other laptop.” Faith called room service and ordered sandwiches and drinks, with a pot of hot tea for Kat, telling them there was an extra tip if they got it up to the suite right away. Then they began the process. Someone poured Kat a cup of tea as soon as the food arrived and she sipped at it absently, refusing anything to eat as she studied photo after photo, trying to find just the right one that would help her “see” what she needed to. “There!” She almost dropped her cup in her excitement as she pointed to one picture. “Right there. All of these. There’s five of them. See?” Mike leaned over her shoulder. “You mean that small piece of roof and the tiny bit of dirt clearing?” “Yes. I know it isn’t much but that’s the building I saw. I know that’s where they’re being held. Can you print these out?” “No problem,” Dan told her. He selected each frame, hit print and they began to spit out of the printer. He spread them out in front of her in a row. “What’s next?”
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Kat studied each one carefully. Finally she looked up. “Okay. I’m ready. Mike?” “Got it.” He closed the drapes in the room, left only one lamp on low and moved everyone away from the table. Kat breathed deeply, wiping everything else from her mind, stared at the photos, closed her eyes, then opened them again. The scene was so clear for a moment she thought she was actually at the place. She saw the entire adobe hut, the dirt clearing at the back and to the side, one tree with its branches overhanging the roof. The field of marijuana. A huge field. A large, heavyset man in sweat-stained khakis sat on a tree stump just outside the cabin cradling a large gun in his hands. Rifle, she thought. She wished she were more familiar with guns. The dog she’d seen before came into view, sniffing around the man with the gun. A black van pulled up and two men emerged, one of them lifting a huge tray from the interior. The door to the hut was opened and there they were! Kat gasped as she saw them, the Wrights and Mari, dirty, bedraggled but still keeping it together. They all moved back from the door as the tray was set down on the floor, one of the men gestured with a gun, then they backed out of the hut and shut the door. A large piece of wood was slammed into a hook to keep the door locked from the outside. The two men stopped while one of them spoke to the man on the stump, then they climbed into the van and drove away. The picture wobbled, fading in and out, and then it was gone. Kat had been drawing on the pad of paper in front of her. Now she blinked her eyes, asked Mike to turn the lights on and pointed to the pad. “Got something?” he asked. “I think so.” She struggled to keep the excitement from her voice. What if she was wrong? Carefully she described what she’d seen, detail by detail and showed them the rough sketch she’d made while “viewing” the location. “I saw them,” she said. “They’re alive. I really saw them.” “All right.” Dan sat down next to her and took her sketch, placing it with the photos she’d been studying. “We need to go over every photo carefully, see if we can find any approaches to the hut where we’re not exposed. You said only one guard?” Kat nodded. “Two others come to bring them food and water but I don’t know how often.” “Not at night, I’m sure. That’s when we’d have to go in, anyway.” He looked at the other men. “All right, pull up a chair, guys. Let’s get to work and figure out exactly how we’re going to do this. I need two of you to study all the still shots and give me an idea of the geography around the estancia. Troy, play that video disk again and give me all you can. And we need to make a list of the things we’ll have to take with us.”
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“Remember the dog,” Kat added. “You need to be on the lookout for it. If it’s a trained attack dog…” She let her words trail away. “So noted,” Dan said. Kat moved away from the table, carrying her tea with her, and dropped into one of the big chairs in a corner. Faith brought her a plate with a sandwich on it and put it on the little table next to her. “I know you’re not hungry but you have to eat. It won’t do anyone any good if you get sick.” Kat obediently picked up a sandwich half and began to nibble on it. “Can they really do this?” she asked. “Go in and get them out?” Faith smiled at her. “I was with them when they went into Peru to get Mark. They pulled him right out of the heart of a terrorist camp and took everyone down while they did it.” “But there may be more guards around the hut where the…hostages are being held.” She still had a hard time getting the word out. “I could be wrong, you know.” Faith pulled up a footstool and sat down in front of her, reaching out to touch her hand. “Trust your instincts. That’s what I do. And trust the guys. They know what they’re doing.” “This is the first time it’s been so personal for me.” “I know. Just be glad that Brent Fontaine showed up in the wrong place and the wrong time for him and we were able to get him out of the way. Your powers seem a lot stronger since then.” “They are.” She put the half-eaten piece of sandwich back on the plate. “Has Mark heard any more about him?” “Detective Wagner said they had someone from the Tampa Police Department meet the plane and take him into custody. When they began looking into his background, the names of several other women he’d stalked turned up, so the TPD thinks it can make a good case against him. And he won’t be in any position to bother you for a long time.” “I can’t believe how stupid I was getting mixed up with him.” Faith smiled. “We all do things we regret. But you were smart enough to walk away from him.” Kat dropped her eyes to her lap. “Mike and I had some…issues to work out.” “Well, it looks like you did. I can tell he cares for you a great deal.” “You think so? I’m not imagining it?” “Oh no. I’ve had enough opportunity to see the playboy in action. I know when he’s hit and hit hard. Whatever he feels for you is good and strong.” “Thanks.” Kat gave her a tentative smile. “I really appreciate you saying that.” “I’m only telling the truth.” Faith winked at her.
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They heard the ringing of a cell phone, everyone pulled theirs out and looked to see who was getting the call. “Me,” Mark told them and flipped open the phone. “Go ahead.” He listened for a few minutes, nodding his head. “Good. Good. Excellent work. Now I’ve got something else for you to do.” He chuckled. “You didn’t want to sleep anyway, did you?” “What’s up?” Dan asked. “Andy’s sending us more info on the three men involved. He’s found some additional stuff that looks pretty hinky. I also gave him the coordinates of Herrera’s estancia and asked for satellite imagery of the area.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “He’s getting pretty good at stealing it.” At that moment the soft ding of a bell announced the arrival of a new email. Andy had forwarded the latest email from the kidnappers. “Fifteen million?” Dan stared at the screen. “Shit.” Mike slammed his fist on the table. “The Feds screwed up somehow this morning and now the hostages are going to have to pay for it.” “Mike?” Kat put a tentative hand on his arm. He turned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his warmth. “Don’t sweat it, kitten. We’ll get them.” “That’s not what I was going to say.” She pointed at the email. “He’s calling someone Señor Rasgon. It’s the first time he’s addressed anyone by name.” “It’s got to be some nickname for the key person he’s dealing with. He must be very pissed off to do that. We just have to figure out whose nickname it is.” He shook his head. “Maybe Andy can run it through the Dragon.” “You don’t need Andy for this,” she corrected. “I can translate. But it could belong to any of the three we’ve keyed in on. You’ll have to figure out which one.” And she translated from the Spanish for them. Mike whistled. “Damn and double damn. Now we just have to find out which one it is.” “No small task,” Mark said. “Let’s get these people back and then I have an idea how we can figure it out. If we snatch the hostages from under Herrera’s nose, he’ll be all over Señor Rasgon like white on rice. Once the hostages are safe, we need to connect with the very hostile Agent Anthony Delaware and see if he’ll go along with our plan.” “I don’t think he’ll have a choice if he wants to wrap this up. He can have all the credit. We just want to take down Señor Rasgon.” Dan stacked the photos together. “Let’s go over this one more time. We don’t have a lot of margin for error.”
*****
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As soon as the Gulfstream had left the airfield, the mechanic called Nando to report to him. He called back when they returned. “They filed a flight plan for Baja,” he said. “They weren’t gone long enough to go anyplace else.” “Nothing for this area of Mexico?” Nando pushed. “No, nothing at all. And I timed them carefully.” Nando was silent a moment. “Still,” he said at last, “they could have been one of the planes flying over here this afternoon. But if they were, they were too high up and flew too fast to see anything. Keep an eye on both aircraft and let me know if they take either one out again.” “Si, Nando. I promise.” But the mechanic had not counted on special orders from his boss, who at that moment came strolling across the tarmac from the terminal building. “Problem?” the man asked, looking at the mechanic’s worried face. “No, no. Just some family complications.” “Hope it’s nothing serious. I need you to take a run up to Los Angeles.” The mechanic struggled to keep the dismay from showing on his face. “Los Angeles? Now? It’s after six o’clock. I was just getting ready to leave.” Now he wished he told the man the call was about a family emergency. The manager shrugged. “I’ll pay you double for the overtime. Cisco is working on the Phelps plane and needs a part tonight. I can’t break him loose from the job to go get it because he’s in the middle of other maintenance work on the plane.” Francisco Antinor was the other mechanic who worked full-time at the airfield. Javier cursed silently at the job that would take him away from the airfield. “I can finish what he’s doing,” he told the manager, “if he wants to make the extra by going to L.A.” His boss looked at him strangely. “Is there some reason you don’t want do to this? Something you need to tell me?” Javier swallowed the sick feeling creeping up his throat. “No, no. No problem. Give me the information and I’ll leave right away.” He just prayed that neither of the Phoenix aircraft took off while he was gone.
***** “But we still don’t know which one of them to pinpoint,” Mark said, reading the email from Andy that he’d printed out. He was handing each sheet around as he finished with it. “Well, we know each of them is a strong possibility,” Dan pointed out. “They’re all in trouble.”
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“Andy dug out some offshore accounts that Pelley’s been siphoning money off to,” Mike told them, reading the sheet in his hand. “That must be how he’s covering his investment losses.” “He’s covered it well,” Dan commented. “He’s got a whole structure of phony companies set up that on the surface look legit. He’s probably counting on the fact that Eli Wright trusts him so much he doesn’t look any further than the financials Pelley gives him. I have a strong hunch he’s also laundering drug money through there too, for a cut of the profits. I think somewhere he invested in something Herrera had his fingers in and he got hooked.” “Ryan Post is in big trouble with his spas,” Mark told them, looking at what he’d printed out. “He’s borrowed money at a high rate of interest from some banks outside the federal banking system. If any of it came from Herrera, there’s your connection. Also, the DEA suspects him of using the Mexico facility to process drugs into the States, which Herrera could be leveraging him to do.” “Even Rand Prescott is not looking too good. He’s under investigation by the Securities and Exchange Commission for inflating the value of the stock in a couple of his development companies, one of which he’s in partnership with Eli Wright. And there’s a lot of curiosity about where the original capital actually came from.” “So any of the three of them could be the one working with the cartel,” Faith mused, “or it could in fact be all of them, with one lead person directing the dance. Herrera was in a position to get his hooks into all of them and they all had both access to and an axe to grind with Eli Wright. He could have forced them to act in concert, hoping to throw us off as to the real contact. We’re still no further ahead with something we can actually prove.” “No.” Her husband shook his head. “Not true. Andy’s got the Dragon cranking away on Señor Rasgon. If anyone can find it, he can. Then we’ll have a starting point.” “Still no word from the Feds?” Rick asked. “Not even a whisper,” Mark said. “The couple of times I’ve called them they politely told me to mind my own business.” “Even though Kat’s sister is one of the hostages? I’d think they’d be all over her, holding her hand, waiting to see if she was contacted.” Dan shook his head. “They know Mari wasn’t the main target, just collateral damage. And Kat wouldn’t have the financial resources to pay any ransom. They’re either hogtied and don’t want anyone to know it, or they have something going and think we’ll mess it up.” “If they investigated Kat, wouldn’t they’d have discovered her remote viewing ability and asked her to help?” “Not necessarily,” Dan said. “Even though the government continues to do its own experiments with psychic abilities, not everyone is willing to use them. Plus, I’m willing to bet they still don’t have the vaguest idea of who they’re dealing with, that a major
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cartel is behind this. And they’re trying to figure out how to finesse this because the crime crosses international borders. They don’t want us seeing them chase their tails.” “We aren’t exactly their favorite people, anyway,” Rick reminded everyone. “All right.” Dan tapped keys on the laptop, brought up the satellite photos of the specified area that Andy had sent and leaned back in his chair. “Enough. It’s dark at seven after nine. We should be at the airport, locked and loaded and ready for takeoff in the chopper by nine o’clock. We want the cover of full darkness to do this.” “This is probably the best place for the drop.” Mark pointed to a spot on one of the photos. “Far enough away that unless they’ve got guards out in the marijuana fields we won’t run into trouble in the insertion.” “But they’ll hear the sound of the bird coming in,” Troy pointed out. “What do we do about that?” “Hopefully that far away it won’t draw too much attention to us. And Ed, you’ll pull away the minute the last of us drops and wait for us,” his finger hovered over the aerial shot, then landed on a spot, “here.” “We’ll all be linked through the comm gear but if we need communication between the helo and us, Mark, we’re going to depend on you and Faith.” Kat realized they were talking about the ability the Hallorans had to communicate telepathically with each other. She hoped that between them, she and Faith had enough psychic abilities to help make this mission successful too. “Kat and I need to do a little shopping,” Faith told them. She looked at Kat. “Black jeans and shirts,” she told her. “Nothing light that can be seen anywhere.” She turned back to her husband. “I spotted a place to shop when Mark and I were out. We won’t be more than a half hour. Meanwhile, you guys can go over this one more time.” “All right,” Mark said, “but hurry.” As the women entered the elevator, two men in dark suits exited and headed down the hallway. “God,” Faith breathed. “I hope that’s not trouble coming.”
***** Rip was pacing his office, trying to keep himself as calm as possible. The news of the aborted ransom drop had everyone on edge and he knew they’d begin looking harder for a connection to the kidnappers. And trying to force a location from someone. His own personal FBI barnacle was cutting him no slack. He was tired, irritable, stressed out and wishing this whole disaster would finally come to an end. He desperately needed the cash he’d get from this but his bad feeling about the whole situation was getting worse by the minute. He knew the Feds had been checking his personal financial situation, just as they had the other two men, but thus far none of his secrets had emerged. Now, with the ransom catastrophe, they’d get out
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bigger shovels and dig deeper. Everything he’d worked so hard for could come crashing down around him. Making sure he had the disposable phone in his pocket, he managed to slide into the restroom and lock the door. First he called the other two men and the message from both of them was the same. “I’m trying to put this to bed as quickly as possible,” he told both of them. “Otherwise we’re all in big trouble. Just keep the Feds at bay and we’ll get through this.” Next, with a finger that shook slightly, he dialed the by now familiar number. “What?” Nando snapped. “Are you crazy asking for a bigger ransom?” Rip asked, pitching his voice low. “We need to teach the gringos a lesson. Don’t mess with us or there will be consequences.” “They’re pulling in more agents,” he protested. “And looking harder into everyone’s backgrounds. They’re determined to find out who the kidnapper is. If our…arrangement comes to light, there might not be any ransom.” “Then you’d better make sure that doesn’t happen,” Nando told him in a tight voice. “Herrera won’t like it if your stupidity costs him all that money. He needs it quickly.” “Why? What’s the hurry?” “You know why. There’s a shipment of arms coming through and the dealer needs to be paid.” “Damn it, no!” Rip exploded. “You can’t use the same shipping pipeline. There’s too many eyes watching.” “Again I tell you, take care of it. Herrera gets very testy when his business is interrupted.” “Then Herrera shouldn’t have kidnapped a high-profile hostage,” Pelley blurted out. “Ah.” Nando’s voice sounded very sly. “Then you should not have gotten yourself in this situation. If we don’t get the money and are forced to kill the hostages, you could disappear right along with them.” Rip tasted the bile rising in his throat. “Just set the next ransom drop quickly and release these people,” he said. “We’ve got to get this thing done. Don’t forget. The people from Phoenix are still out there operating on their own and doing god only knows what. Trust me. You don’t want them on your back.” “We will take care of them. Your job is to make sure nobody screws with us again.” Nando disconnected the call and Rip was once more left with dead air. He had no choice now. He just had to play the cards that were dealt the best he could.
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When he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom, it was to be told the next call had come in on the cell phone he’d left on a table and the email had just arrived. “Same arrangements as before. Same time, same place. No tricks this time.”
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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, Malone had 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. Kidnappings by cartels had become so prevalent they were now almost daily occurrences. But pinning down the specific cartel was like chasing a butterfly. He’d put his feelers out on the street, 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. 165
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“Good luck with that. Especially if they enter Mexican air space. 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.” It was important that they believe he meant that. He was already afraid he’d made too many slips. He’d lie through his teeth if he had to. “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 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?’”
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Pelley said nothing, just gave the agent back stare for stare and 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 Mike and 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.” He 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 hustled everyone down the back fire stairs 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.”
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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 thing 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 mask-like 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 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 took it back from her for a moment, 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. “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 semi-automatics, 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.
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She shook her head. “I actually have read firearms manuals for a research project I did but I 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 just 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. 169
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“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 there 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 each other if necessary. Ed would do the flying so Mike could join the others in the rescue attempt. 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, mudcolored 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 directions. 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.
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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. 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,
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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 went wrong with the ransom drop.” “I say call Anthony Delaware, just tell him Katherine’s beside herself with worry and what can he tell us? Don’t let him onto 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?”
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“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 you?” 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 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. “We know the Feds screwed up 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, carried 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 was crumbling from the inside out.
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“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 liquid soap into his palms, worked it into a lather and began at her shoulders with sweeping strokes. His fingers kneaded her tense muscles, the tips dancing down the knuckles of her spine, massaging her buttocks, then continuing 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. 174
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“Please,” she begged. “Please what?” he whispered, sliding three fingers into her waiting pussy. “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 shower head 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 set up the drumbeat in her pulses again 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
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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 wasn’t 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. Besides, 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, rescue the hostages and he and his men would all be called to Washington to have their asses handed to them. Well, shit.
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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 too 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.”
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They’d discussed it back and forth over breakfast, realizing their leads were down to none, pushing Andy to keep digging for more information, 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 still felt uncomfortable about 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 my abilities and their accuracy,” Kat apologized. “I’m very, very sorry. I did tell you from the beginning remote viewing is only eighty to ninety percent accurate. And if things happen quickly sometimes it’s not possible to adjust to pick up changes. And I might have sensed them being there because traces of their presence remain. 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 was 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. 178
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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?
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“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 Prescott had 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 gets to. 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
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face, but they had little to work with, the cut had become infected and she 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 it. 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 according 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.
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Chapter Fifteen After they’d packed everything up and just before they checked out of the hotel, Dan called the Wright pilots and asked them to hang on a little longer. Then he persuaded them to take part in a little charade at the airfield. Just in case anyone was watching, they all put on a show. Mike and Ed engaged the manager in a loud conversation about winds and weather, asked him about traffic condition heading east and made sure anyone hanging around the terminal heard both of them announcing their intention to head back to San Antonio. “You mean you’re leaving without finding out what happened to your friend?” one of the pilots asked. The two of them had arrived fifteen minutes earlier and were standing around drinking coffee. “Sorry,” Mike said. “We’ve decided to leave it all to the FBI. They’re better equipped to handle this.” “What about your friend?” the manager asked Mike. “Weren’t you looking for someone in particular?” Mike pulled Kat close to him and hugged her. “We decided this way is best. But we’ll be in constant touch with the Feds.” Dan turned to one of the pilots. “You have our cell phone numbers. Let us hear the minute you find out anything.” The man nodded. They drove the SUV to the hangar where Mike and Ed had parked the plane and helo. Again they made a show of unloading their luggage and stowing it in the plane. Troy drove the SUV back to the terminal. Left the keys with the manager and jogged back to the hangar. “Isn’t it dangerous doing this in daylight?” Kat asked. “Yes but we’ve done this before,” Dan reassured her. He gave her arm a friendly squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll get it done.” Mark’s cell phone rang and he walked away from the commotion to answer it. The conversation was short and when he returned to the group his face was grimmer than usual. “Oh my god,” Kat said. “What’s wrong? Did something bad happen?” “Bad for some people,” he told her, then looked at everyone. “Andy earned his keep today. He decided to run a credit card check on our three suspects and see what he came up with. He was looking for anything that would tell him who made the deal here. Prescott’s in big trouble with the SEC, which we knew, and he’s trying to hide it from Eli Wright because it involves the two companies they partnered in. Ryan Post’s 182
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spa chain is leaking red ink and he’s had some interesting visitors to the one in Mexico. And Ron Pelley…well, we know about him.” “None of this is new,” Mike said impatiently. “But this is. I had him text this to me so everyone could actually read it.” He held the phone so everyone could read the screen as he scrolled through the text message. They all stared at each as the last word disappeared. Dan finally said it for them all. “Son of a bitch.”
***** The military helicopters began filling the air space as the convoy left Wright International Headquarters. Pelley tried not to keep looking up at them as he sat on the low stone wall in front of the Alamo. He clutched the package tightly as he watched for the motorcycle. The message had said same arrangements, so he was prepared for a snatch and grab, just like the day before. When this is over I’m going someplace to hide and never show my face again. How did things get so badly botched up? How did this mess happen? We’ll all be lucky to get out of it with our skins in one piece. He watched the traffic, ears tuned for the high whine of a motorcycle engine. It was there almost before he heard it, sleek and black, zooming along the inner road. He loosened his grip on the padded envelope and as the motorcycle slowed in front of him, held it out to the outstretched hand. The rider grabbed it, increased the engine roar and sped off. Pelley gritted his teeth to keep from looking up to see if one of the helicopters had caught the action. He didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. He only felt numb. Now what? He sat in place as instructed until one of the men from the conference room walked up to him and took his arm. “Let’s go, Mr. Pelley. Time to get back to the office.” All he could think as he let himself be led to a waiting car was, God, I hope they don’t kill the hostages.
***** Javier waited until the sleek Gulfstream and the massive Black Hawk had lifted off and headed east before hiding behind the hangar and pulling out his cell phone. “They are gone,” he told Nando. “What do you mean?” “They left. That’s what I mean. They are all headed back to San Antonio.” Nando was silent for a moment. “Something doesn’t sound right here. Are you sure?” 183
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“Positive,” Javier insisted. “I heard them myself and saw them leave. I watched until they were out of sight.” “It doesn’t seem likely that people like them would just walk away from this. Not when they’re personally involved.” “They said they were leaving it to the FBI,” Javier repeated. “Now I really am suspicious,” Nando snorted. “The Phoenix Agency doesn’t hand off to anyone. There’s something wrong here.” “I’m only telling you what I heard and saw.” “Keep your eyes open. See what else happens. Call me the very minute anything new catches your eyes and ears.”
***** The phone in Rip’s pocket vibrated. He looked around the conference room where they were all gathered again, excused himself and headed for the bathroom. “I can’t talk,” he whispered when he pressed the call back number. “They have everyone at this place and we’re surrounded by FBI agents.” “My messenger called that he has the money and there were no tricks,” Nando said. “That is good. Is everything all right there?” Rip was tempted to tell him about the helicopters but he didn’t have the stomach to hear Nando’s ranting and raving. He also didn’t want to be responsible for four revenge killings. He felt sick enough as it was. Anyway, he trusted that Nando had foolproof arrangements. “Fine, fine. When are you releasing the hostages?” “As soon as the money gets here.” Nando’s malicious laugh echoed over the connection. “Not too much longer, since they didn’t try to delay our messenger. Patience, mi amigo.” “They damn well better be released soon.” Someone knocked on the door and called his name. “I have to go. Get those people back here. And be sure my money is transferred.” The laugh again. “You might think you’ve grown a conscience but it’s still all about the money. I will call you when the hostages are on their way.” “Mr. Pelley?” a voice shouted through the door. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine. I’m coming right now.”
***** They parked the Gulfstream in the hangar at an airfield owned by a friend of Mike’s. It was located about half an hour northeast of San Diego. They’d used enough crazy maneuvers that they hoped to fool anyone watching them, then slipped beneath the radar to make their landing. 184
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As soon as the plane was locked down, they began their preparations on the Black Hawk. To Kat’s eye they were doing much the same things they’d done the night before, with one exception. Dan Romeo unzipped a canvas bag that looked like a rectangular computer case and flipped it open. Inside, precisely held in place, were pieces of what Kat knew had to be a very powerful gun. A rifle, not a handgun. Dan began removing the pieces and assembling the weapon with quiet efficiency. She watched him check each piece carefully, then assemble it with quick, practiced movements. Pointing it toward the back of the cabin, away from everyone, finger off the trigger, he sighted through the scope on top. Apparently he sensed Kat looking at him because he turned his head, lowering the rifle. And grinned. “One of my personal favorites,” he told her. “It’s a stealth optimized sniper rifle made by LaRue Tactical in Leander, Texas. A little town you can hardly find on the map. This,” he pointed to the case, “is the brand new covert rifle case they just came out with.” He moved the gun in his lap and pointed to a place high on the grip. “The Phoenix. Mark LaRue etched it into the material for me.” “I’m impressed,” she told him. Then she gave him a weak smile. “I think.” “Dan was a sniper with the Marines,” Mike said into her ear. “And a damn good one.” She looked at Dan again and realized his face was completely expressionless. “It’s a career that ages you fast,” was all he said. “We’re going to need a sniper?” she asked Mike. “If there are only the two guards you saw at the hut, Dan’s going to take them out and clear the way for us. Then we’ll be on the lookout for any others we need to deal with. The dog too.” Rick opened the laptop he was holding and called up the aerial footage Andy had sent them. “Look here,” he told her. She and Mike watched with him as the photos zoomed in closer and closer. “There’s the hut,” he said, pointing with his finger, “and far enough away that we have some difference is the main house. The estancia. If we can take out the guards without alerting anyone we can get everyone out of the hut and be away before anyone’s the wiser.” “What are those blinking lights?” she wanted to know. Rick smiled. “Those, Kat, are the hostages. Alive and moving around. This time we know for sure they are there.” He set the laptop aside, then picked up a backpack and removed three items from it. “I don’t remember seeing you with that last time,” Kat told him. “Didn’t use it,” he told her. “I didn’t think we’d need it but the parameters are different this time. We may need a little distraction.” 185
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“What is it?” “A grenade launcher that breaks down into three parts.” He grinned, despite the seriousness of the situation. He was like a little boy playing with toys. “Another one of LaRue Tactical’s nifty little items. We can use it to delay any pursuit if they send anyone up from the main house when they hear the helo.” “Liftoff in five,” Mike told them and took his seat in the cockpit. To Kat it seemed only seconds before she heard the familiar whine of the engine and the whapping of the rotors. They lifted off smoothly, each man concentrating on his own preparations. Kat sat beside Faith again, leaning back against the wall of the cabin. She felt the vibrations of the huge helicopter rumbling through her body, reminding her this was far from a pleasure trip. Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she did the only thing she could do now. She prayed.
***** Anthony Delaware closed his cell phone and looked at the people seated around the table. His agents looked tired yet alert, while Pelley, Post and Prescott gave the appearance of having been run over by a garbage truck. The executive image had long since disappeared. They all looked at him expectantly. “We’ve finally got something to go on,” he told them. “The helicopters reported seeing the motorcycle head for a small, isolated private airfield outside the city. There was a plane waiting for him. It took both the driver and motorcycle onboard, then a few minutes later took off.” “Any idea where it took off for?” one of the agents asked. Delaware took his time answering, watching the reaction of each person. “It headed south,” he told them. “Probably into Mexican airspace. But we did get something out of it.” “Well?” Pelley said. “Are you going to tell us what it is or not?” “One of the helo pilots saw it through binoculars. A logo painted on the side of the plane. Mazatlan Textiles.” “Have we traced the owner?” someone else asked. Delaware nodded slowly. “We got lucky, because the owner is really a corporate shell. But we’ve got good techs at the Bureau. Mazatlan Textiles is owned by Victor Herrera, leader of the Sinaloa drug cartel. Probably the most vicious of all the drug lords. It’s a very good guess—no, not even a guess at this point—that he’s behind the kidnapping and he’s holding the hostages on his estate.” No one said a word as Delaware let his gaze travel from person to person, noting every change of expression, making a mental note of those whose reactions set up warning flags. 186
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Finally Pelley asked, “Does this mean you can’t go after them? That you can’t cross the border to get the hostages?” “At the moment, yes. Herrera surrounds himself with an army of guards and a firefight wouldn’t do anyone any good. Plus, he owns most of the federales so we won’t get any help from the government. It’s too dicey a situation. I’m sorry.” An agent at the other end of the table cleared his throat. “Don’t chop my head off for suggesting this, Anthony,” he began, “but maybe it’s not too late to bring in the Phoenix Agency.” “I think that ship has already sailed,” Delaware snapped. “Sorry.” Damn sorry. “So we just sit here and wait?” Prescott spat at him. “And hope they release the hostages before killing them? What a stinking way to do business.” Delaware spread out his hands. He agreed, only he was hamstrung by his boss and Bureau regulations. But he had another angle to work on. He looked at the three men who’d received the messages. “A heads-up, gentlemen. We’re going through all your financial records, personal and business, to see who might have a connection to the Sinaloa cartel. Even a fleeting one during the course of business. If there’s something there, we’ll find it.” He waited. “You know I own a spa in Mexico,” Post blurted out. “But that doesn’t mean I’m involved with people like that.” “We know about that, Mr. Post. If it’s a clean business deal, you have nothing to worry about.” “So we just sit here and wait,” Pelley repeated what Rand Prescott had asked. Delaware nodded. “I want all of you where I can see you until we get word the hostages are released. Pelley, is it possible to get some food sent up from your cafeteria?” Pelley rose from his chair. “I’ll take care of it right now.” “One of my agents will go with you. Just in case you have any questions about personal likes or dislikes.” Pelley glared at him, then stormed from the room, an agent trailing behind him.
***** Mark had finished with his preparations and opened his laptop to check for any additional messages from Andy. No sooner was he online than the icon flashed and he clicked on it. Staring at the message, he realized they had the last piece of the puzzle in place. Not only did they have the evidence of who had planned this but if Agent Anthony Delaware would cooperate, they could even identify the main contact. The chairman of this little group from hell.
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it.
He nudged Rick who was sitting next to him and turned the screen so he could read
Rick stared at it. “Son of a bitch.” Dan held out his hands for the computer and Mark reached across so he and Troy could share it. “Damn,” Dan said. “Double damn,” Troy echoed. “Who the hell would have thought this?” Dan asked. “Who would have thought this whole scheme was possible to begin with? It took Andy to connect all the dots.” “So now what?” Mark wanted to know. “Now,” Dan told him, “we get the Wrights and Mari Culhane out of there, get them back home and take down this abominable arrangement.”
***** They couldn’t do anything about the noise of the helicopter. They just had to take care of business as quickly as possible. Ed let them out far enough away from the main house that the sound wouldn’t be right over their heads, using the trees for cover and finding a clear space to hover. Just like they’d done the night before, the men fast-roped down to the ground. Before moving to the open door, Mike leaned down and gave Kat a hard kiss on the lips. “I love you and we’ll bring them back.” Then he was gone, a muscular figure in camouflage loaded with weapons and equipment. He still felt the impression of her lips on his as the men began to move stealthily toward their target. The trees grew very thick here, as opposed to the location of the other hut where the hostages had been held. About five hundred yards from their target they stopped and Dan found an appropriate tree to climb. As soon as he was high enough, he found one notch in the limbs to straddle and another to rest his sniper rifle on. Carefully he looked through the scope to focus on the view. In the Marines he’d worked with a spotter but for what they were doing today he didn’t need one. After a long minute he looked down at Rick standing just beneath the tree, nodded and held up one finger. One guard, in view, in his sight. Rick made an “okay” signal with thumb and forefinger. Dan held up his hand again with two fingers upraised. Two minutes. Move now. The others continued to move closer to the hut, crouching low. As soon as they reached it, Mark clicked his throat mic to signal they were in place. Only Dan, as he fired, heard the puff! of the silenced shot but they saw the guard in back crumple to the
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ground, the back of his head blown away. As he fell Mark and Troy moved to the front and in seconds the second guard was down. Troy clicked his mic twice, the signal they were entering the hut. Troy lifted the heavy piece of wood holding the door shut and swung the door open. The four people inside scrambled to their feet, backing away toward the far wall. Mark held his fingers to his lips, then pulled back a velcroed flap on his sleeve to show the Phoenix Agency patch. “No questions,” he whispered. “We’re getting you out of here but we don’t have much time.” Mike blessed the fact that no one asked any questions. They all looked as if they’d been through hell but they followed him out of the hut, the others covering their rear. As they passed the guard at the back of the hut, they heard his radio crackling and a voice calling him to check in. “Hustle,” Mike whispered into his comm unit. “We could have company any minute.” They moved through the trees as fast as they could, the hostages hurrying to the best of their ability. They’d gone about three hundred yards when they heard the roar of an engine and the slam of car doors. Then heavy voices in Spanish, loud and angry. Mark. Can you hear me? Mark touched Rick’s arm and pointed to his head. Yes. What is it? Ed’s at the pickup point. How’s it going? We have the hostages and we’re on our way. Oh thank god. I’ll tell Kat. “Buy us some time,” Dan said, when Mark relayed the message to him. He was down from the tree now. “No need for silence anymore.” Mike moved slightly to the side, brought his rifle up and laid down covering fire as Rick brought the grenade launcher into place. One whoosh! and a trail of fire blazed toward the men pursuing them. Screams of agony sounded, followed by the stuttering sound of a machine gun. Dan, Mark and Troy had the hostages, literally dragging them along. Rick loaded another grenade while Mike laid down more fire, then another whoosh! And another trail of fire. More screams as more men were caught in the inferno but those not hurt kept coming. Ed had touched down in the helicopter but kept the rotors moving. The men literally threw the hostages into the Black Hawk and scrambled in after them as Ed lifted off. Rick straddled the opening, brought his rifle to his shoulder as did Mark and they fired at the pursuers, watching with satisfaction as some of them fell. Then Ed lifted high, away from the guns firing below and the scene below them fell away. Kat was hugging her sister, ignoring the tears running down her face. The Wrights clustered together, made as comfortable as possible by the Phoenix men. Dan, Troy and
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Mark put their headsets on again and Mark handed units to everyone in the Wright party so they had a way to communicate over the noise of the rotors. Eli Wright was the first to speak. He held out a trembling hand to Dan. “I don’t know how to thank you. We thought for sure they were going to kill us. How did you even find us? By using Katherine’s abilities?” Dan inclined his head toward Kat who was still hugging her sister as if she’d never let her go. “She never gave up. Without her we’d never have located you, much less gotten you out of there.” “Very few people really understand remote viewing,” Mike said, packing away his weapons and shrugging out of his vest. Then his mouth curved in a tired grin. “But we were damn glad to have her and her gift.” Troy got out the medical kit and began attending to the wounds. “I think you’re going to have a scar, unfortunately,” he told Sydney Wright as he cleaned and disinfected the cut, then put a bandage on it. “It should have had stitches but it’s too late now. I’m sorry.” “I’m just happy to be alive,” she said. “Besides, it will help to remind me that none of us are that far removed from the dangers out there today.” He shook out two capsules in his hand and gave them to her with a bottle of water. “Antibiotics. You should be on them for the next few days. I’ve got enough for the next couple of days, then you can get a prescription from your doctor.” “I don’t know how we’ll ever thank you,” she said for the tenth time. Troy gave her a half-smile. “It’s what we do.” He turned from her to look at Mari, gently probing the bump on her head and checking out her vision. “I’ll get you some ice for your head,” he told her. “I don’t think you have a concussion but we’ll get it x-rayed when we land.” He moved next to Eli, gently removed his shirt and probed his chest and stomach. “I think you have a couple of cracked ribs,” he said after running his fingers over the man’s chest. “You’re sore beneath this bruise but that’s to be expected.” He reached for an elastic bandage in his kit. “I’ll wrap you for now but we’ll get a better idea when we take you all to an emergency room in San Antonio.” “We owe you a lot,” Wright said gratefully. “Dan Romeo has made a couple of efforts to talk to us about our security.” He looked at Dan. “You come to see me next week. I’m ready to do business.” Lissa required little more than cleaning with sanitary wipes and a couple of aspirin. She curled up against her mother, clinging to her tightly. Sydney kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair. “I knew you’d find us,” Mari said to her sister on a hiccupping sob. “I knew you’d find a way to ‘see’ us. I told everyone you and Phoenix would save us.” She hugged her again. “I’m so glad you’re my sister, Kat.” 190
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She finally sat up, wiped her eyes and looked around. “Where’s that handsome pilot you’ve been mooning about for two years?” Kat laughed, pulling her sister tight again. “He’s in the cockpit, helping to get us home. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him.” “Then we all need to do some talking,” Dan said, over the noise of the helicopter. He looked at Eli. “I have information for you that isn’t going to make you too happy.”
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Chapter Sixteen Nando finally made his escape from Victor Herrera’s wrath, happy to have his skin in one piece, never mind his life. He had never seen El Jefe in such a rage. Not that he himself was any too pleased. How in the hell had these people, whoever they were, learned who had taken the hostages, where they were kept and yanked them out under the very noses of El Jefe’s personal guards? Because they had gotten sloppy, he told himself. Too confident. A mistake he’d never make again. His men were burying the dead and tending to the survivors even as he retreated to the safety of his own quarters. He pulled out his cell phone, his hands shaking as he pressed the speed dial for the man he was sure had betrayed him. Señor Rasgon would regret this, every day of his miserable life. Nando would exact his pound of flesh and more. And remind the man it was very unhealthy to make an enemy of the great Victor Herrera. The phone rang four times on the other end before going to voice mail. He swore and snapped the phone shut. He’d wait a few minutes and try again. He knew the phone was set on vibrate, so this would be a warning to the idiot to get himself someplace to talk. But after six tries he still had no success making contact. Swearing in gutter Spanish, he punched in another number, determined that someone would feel the heat of his anger.
***** Javier hurried to the side of the hangar to answer his cell phone. He had a very bad feeling about what he was going to hear. “Stupido!” Nando’s voice exploded through the phone like a bomb. “You miserable little cockroach. You are worthless, you hear me? A piece of garbage.” “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Javier stammered. Jesu Cristo! Now what? “If you weren’t my cousin’s son, I’d be feeding you to the fish right now, piece by piece.” “I don’t understand.” Javier shifted from foot to foot, trying to fight the roiling in his stomach. “They’re gone, pendejo. The damn hostages are gone.” Javier wanted to throw up. How could this be? He had heard the men talking, seen them leave.
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“I am sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “Do not think you will rest easy over this one,” Nando told him. “El Jefe would like to see your ass roasted over a slow fire.” “Please, Nando,” he began. “You should go to church and pray to the Virgin Mother that you are still breathing when this is over.”
***** Troy was keeping a sharp eye on the hostages. He really wanted to get them to an emergency room, not fully convinced they shouldn’t get more medical attention. But everyone was anxious to get home as quickly as possible. He finally told Dan that for the trauma they’d been through, they were holding up remarkably well and after checking them each once more agreed to no hospital. He taped Eli’s ribs and made a note to remind Kat to keep an eye overnight on her sister. He figured the big crash would come once they were all inside their own homes. They stopped to pick up the Gulfstream, leaving Rick and Troy to ride back in the helicopter with Ed. He would take the Black Hawk back to their private airfield outside Baltimore. It was mid-afternoon by the time the rest of them landed in San Antonio. The SUV Mark had driven to the airfield was still where they’d parked it. Dan managed to score a second one from the private terminal manager, at the same time letting him know the plane would be back in the hangar. They transferred everyone to the two vehicles while Mike parked the plane. Mark had called Anthony Delaware en route, told him they had the hostages and asked him not to tell anyone yet that they were free. He said they’d be bringing them to the Wright building shortly and would he please keep everyone there. He knew they all wanted showers desperately, and something to eat that resembled real food, but needed to wait until they confronted the person who’d set this all in motion. For the first time Mark and the agent exchanged the information they had. Mark also brought him up to speed on how and why the plan was hatched and who was behind it. Sort of. Delaware grudgingly asked for suggestions. When Mark told him his plan, he was only too willing to agree. Obviously tamping down any hostility he felt, he said they’d all be waiting in the conference room. “Anything to save his ass,” Mark told the others. The hostages had all freshened up on the plane and Dan and Mark had handed out spare clothes they kept in the plane’s bedroom. They even managed to find shorts and a shirt for Lissa. Mark had hooked up the little printer and printed out everything Andy had sent to them. Then he handed it to Dan, who sat quietly to one side with Eli, in two of the comfortable chairs, reviewing the material. Eli had swallowed some aspirin in the helicopter but refused Troy’s offer of a pain pill.
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“I want to be alert when I read what you’ve got,” he said, “and plan what I’m going to say to those bastards.” Troy tried again to get everyone to the emergency room before they did anything else but the Wrights were determined to confront the people who’d planned this and the man who’d put it together. Eli could barely control his anger. Mark offered to drop Lissa and Sydney off at their home before going on to Wright International but they refused, insisting they be present when it all went down. When they walked into Pelley’s conference room, several pairs of eyes stared at them, taking in the tall, grim-looking strangers and the Wrights and Mari in their bruised, battered condition. Dan scanned the table, noticing who looked relieved and who looked shocked, then let Mark take the lead, since he’d been the one dealing with the FBI. Delaware stood up from his seat at the table and grudgingly held out his hand. “Anthony Delaware,” he said. “Thanks for doing my job for me. Politics, you know.” His voiced was tinged with both bitterness and regret. “Mark Halloran. And no problem.” He nodded at the group behind him, indicating each in turn. “My partners. Eli Wright and his family and Mari Culhane. Faith Halloran and Mari’s sister, Katherine.” Delaware shook hands with each of them. “You have to know how glad we are to have you back,” he told the Wright party, “and how badly our hands were tied.” Eli nodded abruptly. “I do. I’m not blaming you. I’m sure you understand it didn’t make us feel any better knowing we were in a no-win situation. I just thank god for men like the people from the Phoenix Agency.” Ron Pelley had risen and hurried around to where everyone was standing. “Eli. Sydney. God, I’m so glad—” “Stow it,” Eli snapped, halting Pelley in mid-sentence. “You’d better sit down.” ”You too,” Delaware said to Ryan Post and Rand Prescott, who had also half-risen from their seats. “Right now.” All three men sat, protesting however. “What the hell is going on?” Rand Prescott demanded. “I think we’ll find out very quickly,” Mark told them. He looked at Delaware, who nodded. “The men from the Phoenix Agency and the FBI discovered the same information almost simultaneously. Lucky for the Wrights and Miss Culhane, Phoenix doesn’t have to answer to government regulations.” Delaware looked at Mike. “It’s really your show.” Mike stepped forward. “When Katherine Culhane came to me and told me her sister was missing, along with the whole Wright family, I kept hoping it was just a mixup in travel plans. Obviously it wasn’t. It was a carefully planned kidnapping by Victor
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Herrera, head of the Sinaloa drug cartel. One of many that have occurred in the past year.” He looked at Mark who took up the story. “Someone had to have given Herrera the Wrights’ travel information and helped set up the kidnapping. It wasn’t random. Digging through masses of information, we narrowed it down to you three.” He pointed at Pelley, Post and Prescott. “You all had financial troubles you were trying to hide and your cut of the action could get you healthy very fast. “Plus,” Mark went on, “you all had ties to Herrera. Post, your spa in Mexico is on the border of the state of Sinaloa. You’re overextended financially and your sister finally turned off the aid faucet. Herrera sniffed you out and he’s been using that spa to smuggle drugs and people into the United States.” He looked at Pelley. “And you, my friend, have been siphoning money from the company to cover bad investments, some of which you were lured into by Herrera to give him a chokehold on you. How nice for him that you’ve been laundering his money for him as well.” He let his gaze drift to Prescott. “And you set them up, Prescott. You were the leader in this vicious charade. You gave Herrera the information because you had every detail of this trip. And you did it because the businesses you went into with Eli Wright were funded on your part by drug money, as is a great deal of your corporation. At least that’s the way it looks to us.” The room was so still a pin dropping would have sounded like an explosion. The men in question looked paler than death and the agents were listening with avid interest. Dan moved forward, picking up the thread. “We decided to check everyone’s credit card activity for the past year. We didn’t know exactly when this poisonous little plot was hatched but that gave us a starting point. And guess what we discovered?” “Surprise!” Mark said. “The three of you showed up at a resort in the Bahamas at exactly the same time. An unusual coincidence, don’t you think, for three people who don’t even have contact with each other? It didn’t take much of a leap to recognize a planning party. That’s when we got the idea that all three of you had a hand in this, although one of you was the designated coordinator. We had to find out which one. It will be interesting to see what shows up when we get warrants for everyone’s cell phone activities.” “We had only one clue to follow,” Mike said. He looked at Delaware, who nodded. “We were able to hack into your computers, all of you, and pick up the emails you received. The last one addressed a Señor Rasgon. We could have torn our hair out figuring out that one, until someone in our group—and at the table here—said rasgon is Spanish for ‘rip’. A nickname, we assumed, based on initials as many nicknames are. But with three people carrying the same initials—Ronald Ian Pelley, Ryan Isaiah Post
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and Rand Ivan Prescott, a coincidence that couldn’t happen again in a hundred years— we needed to devise a plan to ferret out the right person.” Anthony Delaware cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself. “I’d like you three men—Pelley, Post and Prescott—to take out your cell phones and put them on the table,” the agent said. “Now,” he snapped when no one made a move. With obvious reluctance the three men pulled their phones from their pockets and placed them on the table. Immediately Rand Prescott’s began to vibrate. “Answer it, Mr. Prescott,” Delaware told him. When the man didn’t move, he said, “Fine. Then I’ll do it.” He reached across the table and grabbed the phone before Prescott could stop him. He waited until the tech standing by had plugged a cord into it and nodded, then flipped it open and put it on speaker. “Rasgon?” a voice said. “Rip? Damn it, I’ve been calling you for hours. What the hell is going on? Do you have any idea what’s happened down here?” “I think we all know what’s happened by now,” Delaware said. “Whoever the hell you are, I’d advise you to inform Victor Herrera he’s made some very dangerous enemies. He’d better hurry up and replace those guards who were killed today. And his other setup is down the drain. Oh, one more thing. I took the precaution of having Mr. Pelley record the numbers on the bearer bonds. A notice has gone out internationally that the bonds are counterfeit and should not be redeemed. I think even your back alley money brokers will stay away from this one.” “Listen,” Prescott began. Delaware looked at Prescott. “Rip, huh? I should have figured you’d be the one leading the parade here. Big international wheeler-dealer.” “Damn it, Rand,” Eli Wright exploded. “What the hell were you thinking of?” Prescott’s face paled. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Or who this person is.” “Rip?” the voice from the phone shouted. “I asked what is happening. You’d better talk to me.” Delaware swung his gaze to the tech, who nodded his head, then the agent took the phone and pressed “Off”. Again he looked at each of the three men individually. “You’re all guilty, you know. Prescott maybe a little more so. We’ll let the courts decide the severity of everyone’s penalty, because believe me, prison is just around the corner for everyone.” He nodded to his agents. “I think we need to take these three into custody. Get them downtown to the Justice Building and keep them separated.” As the agents went to work, Prescott was shouting again, demanding an attorney. Dan and Mark had to forcibly restrain Eli Wright from getting in at least one punch but Sydney got her own licks in. As Ryan was being shoved past her, she reached out and slapped his face as hard as she could.
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“I’m only glad our parents aren’t here to see this, you miserable little turd.” Her voice was filled with unsatisfied rage. “I hope you rot in whatever cell they put you in.” Sydney Wright looked at her brother. “I’m sickened by you,” she spat at him. “To do this to your own family.” “Family, huh?” he sneered. “If family had taken better care of me, maybe this never would have happened.” “Family took care of you long enough,” Eli said, disgust in his voice. “We should have let you hang on your own a long time ago.” He turned his gaze to Ron Pelley, his rage vibrating throughout the room. “I treated you like a friend. More than a business associate. I gave you opportunities a lot of men never get. I trusted you, you bastard.” He raised his hand as if to hit him but Dan Romeo stepped up to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t lower yourself to his level. He’ll get what he deserves.” “Whatever it is, it will never be enough to make up for what we went through.” Sydney Wright’s voice was harsh. She stood to the side, holding her daughter. “I know that,” Dan told them. “But it’s a start. And now I think it’s time for the three of you to get medical attention and then go home. You have a lot of healing to do, psychologically as well as physically.” When the agents and their prisoners had left and Anthony Delaware had shaken hands all around, Mark guided everyone out of the conference room. “I think we could all use a little down time right now.”
***** Kat had been reluctant to leave her sister by herself, still worried about a possible concussion, but Mari was firm about what she planned. “I’m fine,” she assured her sister. “My head’s sore but doesn’t ache and my vision’s been fine apart from when I first got hit. So please. Right now I want the longest bath in the world, some hot tea and a good night’s sleep in clean sheets.” She hugged her sister. “I’ll be okay, honestly. You and Mike get some rest too.” She looked over at Mike, leaning against the wall. “Maybe we could all have breakfast tomorrow?” “You got it,” he told her. “How about if we pick you up at ten. Is that good for you?” “Perfect.” She looked back at Kat. “I know you think I shouldn’t be alone right now but honest, sis. I’m going to conk right out. Tomorrow is when I’ll need you.” Kat left her with great reluctance but she was beginning to come apart too. All the tension of the last few days had her unraveling and she didn’t want to do it in front of Mari. She was more than willing to let Mike take her to his hotel suite, undress her carefully and stand her under a hot, hot shower. His hands felt so soothing as wordlessly he soaped her body then shampooed her hair, massaging her scalp and easing away the headache that had been building. 197
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As the shower beat down and rinsed them off, he took her mouth in a kiss so tender it almost brought tears to her eyes. His tongue had a new possessiveness to it, his touch a sense of ownership that said Mine. And she was more than happy to be his. Carefully he lifted her to stand on the triangular seat built into one corner of the shower, lifted one of her legs and placed it over his shoulder and opened her cunt as if unwrapping a special package. With the water sluicing off his back, he bent down and captured her clit in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while his thumbs and forefingers held her open to his assault. Kat clutched at him for support, holding onto fistfuls of his wet hair, her eyes closed as electric sensations pulsed through her and scented steam rose around them. Still trapping her clit with his lips Mike slipped two fingers inside her waiting channel and moved them in and out in a steady rhythm. “Slick,” he murmured against the wetness of her pussy. “So smooth and wet.” He sucked harder, moved his fingers more rapidly. Kat let the need coiled so tightly inside her unwind and spiral upward through her body until it exploded in an orgasm. She rocked on his fingers, clamping down on them, the walls of her cunt convulsing until the climax spent itself. Mike slipped his fingers from her pussy and moved them back to touch the tight ring of her anus. “I want you here, Kat. I want to fuck your ass more than I want my next breath.” “Yesss.” When he lowered her leg she dropped her head to touch her forehead to his and wrapped her legs around him. “I want that too.” The first time he’d taken her anally she’d told him she’d never done that with anyone else. It was an intimate act that she shared only with him. She sensed now that he wanted to ask her about the intervening two years but was reluctant to. She smiled. “No one but you, Mike. Ever.” “And no one else ever will.” He turned off the shower and dried them both with the big fluffy bath towels hanging on the warming rack before guiding her to the bed. She stood there trembling while he ran his hands over every inch of her body, touching every single place. His fingertips trailed through the crease where hip and thigh joined, first one side then the other. His palms smoothed the skin of her tummy and moved upward to hold her breasts, fingers lightly pinching her already aching nipples. When he cupped her cheeks and pressed his mouth to hers she opened to let his tongue thrust deeply inside. Weaving her fingers into the thick hair on his head, she held him in place, shivering with delicious expectation as one hand moved to leave a trail of heat down her body on its way to her pussy. His fingers probed her wet folds, finding the already tender nub of her clitoris and stroking, stroking, stroking. Already the walls of her cunt were fluttering again and she was sure the liquid of her arousal was soaking Mike’s fingers.
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At the point where she didn’t think she could stand on her feet one more minute Mike lifted her and placed her on the bed on her stomach. Pulling her to her hands and knees, he dragged pillows beneath her to support her body then placed a hot kiss on each cheek of her ass. “Don’t move.” His voice was so ragged she almost didn’t recognize it. Kat closed her eyes and let the erotic sensations Mike had aroused dance everywhere on her body. Then he was kneeling behind her, his hand caressing her buttocks, smoothing over the curves. He drew his fingers through the warm crevice, withdrew them, returning to touch her anus. The gel he smoothed onto the tight ring of muscle was cool, soothing. His finger probed at her opening before working its way inside her hot, dark tunnel, carrying more gel to the tissues inside. A dark thrill wound its way through her, clutching at her, spinning her down into a whirlpool of lust. She thrust her hips back at Mike and heard his uneven chuckle. “Feel good, babe?” “Mmm,” was all she could manage. More gel, this time with two fingers, scissoring to stretch her. Make her ready for his invasion. As he worked the lube into her, one hand insinuated itself between her thighs to find her clit and begin that steady stroking movement that brought all her senses into play and made her body ache for relief. Now she was rocking on her hands and knees, eyes closed, impaling herself on the probing fingers and rubbing her clit against his hand. The sudden absence of his touch left her feeling achingly empty but then she heard the familiar crinkle of foil and the snap of latex. “Deep breath, kitten,” he said in a low voice that covered her like warm syrup. “Now.” Then the head of his penis was at her anus, pushing, pushing, pushing, a slow and steady movement. Breathe in, breathe out. In. Out. Now, at last, he was all the way in, filling up every bit of space. When he moved, slowly at first, the friction of his movement drove her wild. She rocked with him, trying to urge him to increase his pace, feeling the dark lust surging through her. His big hands with their lean fingers gripped her hips and then, finally, he began to move faster. Harder. Driving deeper. Then she was caught up in the rhythm, in the heat, in the mindlessness of the coupling. In. Out. In. Out. Faster, faster, faster, faster. “Now, Kat.” His voice was almost a shout. “Now, now, now.” One more deep thrust, his fingers digging into her, and they burst into flames together, bodies shaking, still rocking through spasms more intense than she’d ever felt
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before. When they finally collapsed forward Kat wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to move again. Mike’s breath was warm against her ear. “Mine. All mine.” His voice was raspy as he dragged air into his lungs. “Forever.” “Forever,” she whispered with the little strength that remained.
***** “Hey, aren’t you ready yet?” Mike rapped on the bathroom door. “Food’s here and everyone’s gonna be arriving any minute.” “Almost ready,” she called. “Come on. You look beautiful no matter what.” Kat smiled to herself, thinking how wonderful the past days had been. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a green blouse, tying the tails of it around her midriff. Slid her feet into sandals, checked her hair once more and opened the door. Mike was standing inches away from her, grinning. “You look good enough to eat.” His hands bracketed her waist. “In fact, I might do just that.” “Idiot,” she laughed. “We have company coming. Didn’t you just say they’d be here any minute?” “Spoilsport. I’ll make you pay for it later.” “Promises, promises,” she teased as she eluded him and climbed up onto the deck. When they’d finally gotten clear of the FBI, the DEA and a few other alphabet agencies, they’d spent the past two weeks tying up loose ends. Except for a brief period, Mike had been with her every minute. Coddling her. Babying her. Making sure she was okay. He hadn’t officially asked her to marry him yet. Hadn’t said the words. But she wasn’t worried. They both knew where things were headed and she was sure it would happen when the time was right. She’d tried to object when he insisted on paying off the lease on her condo in Tampa and putting everything in storage temporarily. “I’m not letting you get away this time,” he kept saying. “I learned my lesson the last time and it was painful, believe me.” His own condo had never been more than a place to change clothes and looked as if a delivery van had thrown up in it. So for the moment they were staying on his boat docked in Chesapeake Bay, getting ready to leave for a week on the water. Then they’d decide where they were going to live. He had, however, gotten a commitment from her to join Phoenix’s Psi department, with the details to be worked out. Eli Wright had insisted everyone, including Mari, get counseling to help them deal with what had happened. And he would cover the cost of it. Luckily he’d suffered no internal injuries, just the cracked ribs Troy had diagnosed. While painful, they certainly
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weren’t life-threatening. He wanted to take Sydney to a plastic surgeon to see what he could do about the scar she was sure to have on her face but she absolutely refused. “It will remind me never to take anything for granted again,” she told him, “or get too complacent.” Lissa, who had held up remarkably well, had finally had her meltdown but working with the counselor was doing her a lot of good. Kat had also spent three days with Mari while Mike was off taking care of some obligation with The Phoenix Agency. Her sister had miraculously come through the situation with minimal trauma except for the finally fading bruise on her head and a lingering minor headache. But she’d been checked out and the doctor had said she was doing very well. So they’d spent three days together doing girl things and thoroughly enjoying themselves. Today Mike’s partners were going to join them for lunch so they could all catch up on everything. The married ones were bringing their wives and Kat had insisted the Latrobes bring the wonder dog, Xena. Mike had ordered the food from the restaurant at the end of the pier where the boat’s slip was, along with plenty of champagne to celebrate recent successes and happy occasions. When Kat climbed the short stairway to the deck, the Phoenix group was already halfway down the pier, having elected to arrive together. Kat recognized the men who had risked their lives to save Mari and the Wrights. And Faith, of course. A slender woman shorter than Faith, with sun-streaked brown hair and a pixie face. Another woman slightly taller than Faith with a well-toned body and a long braid of burnished red hair that hung down her back. And beside her, trotting obediently, the massive black and white Xena the Wonder Dog, the Caucasian Ovcharka with Psi abilities. They climbed the short ladder to the deck, Xena taking it in one great leap. Once they were all onboard, the men and Faith hugged Kat and Mike. Dan and Rick introduced their wives. As Kat looked at all of them, she saw such love and affection passing between the married couples she felt her throat tighten with emotion. Would she and Mike be able to achieve that? Xena sat down on the deck between Kelly and Rick but her eyes were focused on Kat. Kelly grinned. “Hold out your hand. I promise she won’t knock you over.” Kat extended one hand, the dog lifted a paw and placed it in her palm. Kat smiled and shook it. “Pleased to meet you, Xena.” “She has a particular affinity for people with psychic abilities,” Kelly told her. “We’re building a kennel behind the new house and I’m going to breed Ovcharkas, then train them for special individuals.” “That sounds exciting.” 201
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Rick squeezed Kelly’s shoulder. “Everything about her is exciting.” The tall redhead blushed and punched his arm playfully. They all arranged themselves around the table, which had been set on deck. Mike pulled one of the bottles of champagne from the cooler, filled everyone’s glass and lifted his own. “I have several toasts to make today,” he began. “First, to my partners, my brothers in arms, there are no others like you. I am blessed to have found you.” Everyone raised their glasses to take a sip of the bubbly liquid. Kat noted the men’s faces tighten with an emotion as strong as that between the couples. “Next,” he continued, “to the wonderful Faith Halloran, for everything she did on this last chaotic episode to help the woman in my life.” He lifted his glass first toward Faith, then Kat. The woman in his life? Again the same feelings swept over her. “I’m saving my last toast until after we get all the news on the table. So. Dan, you’ve been to Washington twice and also met with Eli Wright. You have the floor.” Dan tossed back the last of the champagne and set his glass on the table. “Okay. Long story short. The FBI is trying to keep from having egg on its face, although not all the egg belongs to them.” “What do you mean?” Kat asked. “They would do a lot of things differently if they weren’t hamstrung by some of this country’s political policies. Not being able to go into Mexico once they knew that’s where the hostages were was a bad thing. It pissed off a lot of people.” One corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “Not the least of whom was our good friend Anthony Delaware. Then you have to factor in the San Diego office and you’ve got another bunch of unhappy people.” “So how did you all resolve it?” Troy wanted to know. “I’ve been unavailable and unreachable so I know less than anyone here.” “We’re going to keep Phoenix out of this and let the Feds take credit for the rescue without giving out any details. Then we’re going to bury the whole thing.” “Which doesn’t make Eli Wright any too happy,” Mark put in. “Dan and I have met with him three or four times and that is one pissed-off dude.” “But even he realizes we aren’t going to get anything by handing this to the media or making huge waves. It is what it is.” “The good thing,” Mark added, “is that they’ve contracted with Phoenix to hire and train their security guards and put a whole new system in place. And he said he’d be happy to be a reference any time we need it.” “But that doesn’t address what’s going to happen with the three Rips,” Faith said. “What a group of slime bags.”
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“I’ll drink to that,” Kat said, raising her glass and sipping from it. “Right now they’re guests of the federal government,” Dan told her. “All the charges pending against them are federal charges. They just have to sort out which ones take precedence. The Department of Justice will be busy with this for a long time.” “But won’t they just hire some high-priced lawyers and weasel out of it?” Mia asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since the recitation began. Dan gave her a crooked grin. “They would if they could afford it. But the Feds have frozen all their assets, since so much of their money is tied up in the drug trade and money laundering. And the publicity surrounding them will be so negative, no one will want to touch it with a ten-foot pole just for the publicity value.” He shook his head. “No, they won’t be seeing freedom for a long time, if ever. And remember, kidnapping carries the death penalty.” “That’s their only bargaining chip,” Mark told them. “If they open up to the Feds and give them everything about Victor Herrera, the DOJ might take the death penalty off the table.” “How’s your sister doing, Kat?” Faith asked. “Much better than I expected. And Eli feels so guilty that she got caught up in it, he gave her a huge raise and moved her into a brand new condo building with top-of-theline security.” She grinned at Mike. “Provided by you know who. I think she’ll be all right.” “It’s just too damn bad Herrera gets off scot free,” Troy murmured. “Not quite totally off,” Dan said. “The Feds shut down several areas of his operation including the money laundering, so he’ll take a big hit from this. And maybe the DEA can figure out a way to shut him down altogether.” Mia pushed her plate away and looked at Kat. “So, I understand you’ve agreed to be part of our new Psi department?” “Whatever that means. I’m just honored to be included in it.” “We’re trying to expand our resources,” Mia told her. “Would you consider setting up a testing project to screen for other remote viewers and bringing in someone you’d recommend to train them?” Kat tried to tamp down the shiver of excitement. “I’d love to. And I know just the people I can contact to work with us. When can we get together and work everything out?” “Faith and I are going to talk to Aunt Vivi about getting some of the trainers from The Lotus Circle to help with vision interpretations and expansion of telepathy too. And Xena will be working with a local breeder to enhance the Psi abilities of the dogs and determine which dogs relate to which people.” “Hold on a minute.” Mike held up a hand. “We have some other business to take care of first.” He uncorked another bottle of champagne and refilled all the glasses. Then he looked down at Kat.
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Her stomach did flip-flops at the look in his eyes. What was he up to now? “First,” he said, “a toast to the Hallorans, the Latrobes and the Romeos for their unbelievably successful wedded bliss. A real inspiration to others.” “You trying to tell us something?” Mark asked. “That would be a yes,” he answered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box, set his glass down so he could open it and lifted out a solitaire diamond. It was the most exquisite one Kat had ever seen. When Mike lifted her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger, she had to struggle to breathe. All the air seemed to have left her lungs, yet her heart was beating fast enough to leap out of her chest. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m doing this in public so you’ll be too embarrassed to say no,” he teased. “Will you marry me, Kat? I screwed up once but I’ll never do it again.” She could hardly get the words out, emotion clogging her throat and burning her eyelids. “Go ahead,” Kelly said. “You owe it to the rest of the world to take him off the market.” Mike’s gaze held Kat’s and what she saw in his eyes wiped away any lingering reservations she might have had. “Yes. Oh yes, I’ll marry you.” He lifted her from the chair to give him a better angle to press his mouth to hers in a scorching kiss. Everyone at the table clapped and whistled. “We still have to talk about where we’re going to live,” he said when they finally broke for air. “And Kat will still be doing her remote viewing consulting in addition to working with us.” “How about doing it through Phoenix?” Mia asked. “Now that you’ll be joining this great new Psi department, Kat, don’t you think it only makes sense to add the resources of the agency?” She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to work with all of you, be able to use my gifts to help you with what you do. And draw on your resources to help the clients I bring in.” Mike kissed her again but this time when they broke apart, she realized everyone else at the table was looking at Troy expectantly. A look of horror crossed his face. “No. No way. Uh-uh. Mrs. Arsenault’s little boy is meant for the single life.” “That’s what we all said,” Dan told him. He nodded at Mike. “Don Juan here fell the hardest. You can too.” “Not in the plans,” Troy argued. “Not for me. I’m just saying, you know?” But Kat caught the eyes of the other women, all with the same idea. Then Mike was kissing her again and she forgot to think about anything else.
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About the Author I always wonder what readers really want to know when I write one of these things. Getting to this point in my career has been an interesting journey. I’ve managed rock and roll bands and organized concerts. Been the only female on the sports staff of a university newspaper. Immersed myself in Nashville peddling a country singer. Lived in five different states. Married two very interesting but totally different men. I think I must have lived in Texas in another life, because the minute I set foot on Texas soil I knew I was home. Living in Texas Hill Country gives me inspiration for more stories than I’ll probably ever be able to tell, what with all the sexy cowboys who surround me and the gorgeous scenery that provides a great setting. Each day is a new adventure for me, as my characters come to life on the pages of my current work in progress. I’m absolutely compulsive about it when I’m writing and thank all the gods and goddesses that I have such a terrific husband who encourages my writing and puts up with my obsession. As a multi-published author, I love to hear from my readers. Their input keeps my mind fresh and always hunting for new ideas. Desiree welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Desiree Holt 1-800-DOM-help: Delight Me Cougar Challenge: Hot to Trot Cupid’s Shaft Dancing With Danger Diamond Lady Double Entry Downstroke Driven by Hunger Eagle’s Run Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy I anthology Hard Lovin’ Mistletoe Magic: Elven Magic with Regina Carlysle & Cindy Spencer Pape Mistletoe Magic: Touch of Magic Emerald Green Escape the Night Hot Moon Rising Hot, Wicked and Wild I Dare You Journey to the Pearl Just Say Yes Kidnapping the Groom with Allie Standifer Letting Go Line of Sight Nemesis 1: Until the Dawn with Cerise DeLand Nemesis 2: Until Midnight with Cerise DeLand Nemesis 3: Until Twilight with Cerise DeLand Night Seekers 1: Lust Unleashed Night Seekers 2: Lust by Moonlight Night Seekers 3: Lust Undone Night Heat Once Burned
Once Upon a Wedding Phoenix Agency 1: Jungle Inferno Phoenix Agency 2: Extrasensory Phoenix Agency 3: Delicious Danger Riding Out the Storm Rodeo Heat Seductive Illusion with Allie Standifer Switched Teaching Molly Trouble in Cowboy Boots Turn up the Heat 1: Scorched with Allie Standifer Turn up the Heat 2: Scalded with Allie Standifer Turn up the Heat 3: Singed with Allie Standifer Turn up the Heat 4: Steamed with Allie Standifer Wedding Belles: Something Blue with Cerise DeLand & Allie Standifer Wedding Belles: Something Borrowed Where Danger Hides
Print books by Desiree Holt Age and Experience anthology Candy Caresses anthology Cougar Challenge: Tease the Cougar anthology Demanding Diamonds anthology Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy I anthology Erotic Emerald anthology Mistletoe Magic anthology Naughty Nuptials anthology Night Heat Once Burned Rodeo Heat Sequins, Saddles and Spurs anthology Where Danger Hides
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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