FStop Page 9

  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.

  * * * * *

  “Everyone should be receiving the email any minute,” Nando said, his voice rough-sounding 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.

  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.

  “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 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?”

  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.”

  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.

  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?”

  “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.”