Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) (39 page)

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Authors: Stella Barcelona

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He’d also told them where they could find Maximov’s body. With Stollen’s information, there was only one thing to do. Gabe was now mobilizing for the trip into Praptan to see if Stollen was telling the truth.

Barrows continued, “Even if we recover Maximov’s remains, we still need to figure out who is, and who has been, pulling the strings of the cells claiming to operate on behalf of Maximov. Jigsaw is now assessing the parameters of the kidnaping. The dropping of a body on a life raft in the Atlantic Ocean, the logistical difficulty of transporting a child from Coconut Grove, Florida, to the desert of Chihuahua, and constructing tunnels of the scale that Ragno is now placing on the map, and…”

Zeus nodded as though he was listening, but tuned Barrows out. Black Raven’s most valuable asset tended to ramble things to the Denver-based analysts that made no sense to people who didn’t have innate knowledge of cyber-jargon, algorithms, and statistics. Even when not addressing intricate details of Jigsaw, Barrows’s thought processes were often a distraction, when—like now—every second mattered.

In the final fifteen minutes, Zeus would prefer to focus on agent deployment, strategic use of assets, firepower, and whether to trust any goddamn thing that Blaze—with Protectors of Peace—told them.

Zeus and Sebastian had struck a deal with the devil.

West Texas was the birthplace of the Protectors, after all, and the bordering land of Mexico was also part of their claimed gangland territory. It was the reason why Zeus had searched out Blaze within a minute of reading the instructions left with Agent Martel.

“Sebastian, Zeus, I’ve managed to integrate Protectors of Peace intel,” Ragno said. “It isn’t particularly encouraging in terms of pinpointing likely geographic locations where Zeus and Cox will end up. Whether Blaze’s information will lead to rescuing Zeus and Cox—”

“Wrong order, Ragno,” Zeus interrupted. “Cox first. Before me.”

“Understood. Well, whether the intel from the Protectors will lead to us finding you after Ana and Agent Leon are in the fold, or whether it is yet another distraction, is anyone’s guess.”

Zeus stared at the twisted, worm-like maze that was now appearing in 3-D on the map of West Texas and Eastern Mexico. Subterranean tunnels? Cutting through West Texas, snaking under the border, and into the Chihuahuan desert?

Ragno was using the map to highlight the intel that Blaze had provided in terms of a likelihood that the subterranean routes would be used and coordinating that intel with information obtained through Jigsaw.

If the TRCR were the ones who had Ana.

If they planned to utilize the tunnel system.

If Blaze’s information was accurate.

If Blaze could be trusted.

For fuck’s sake. There are way too many goddamn fucking
ifs
and the first
if
is
if
my daughter is still alive, because there was no goddamned contact info on Martel’s body, there was no way to demand proof of life for Ana.

The father in him felt growing fear and wrenching heartache that his baby girl might very well be dead, and this was all an elaborate trap to capture Barrows and take Zeus out of the picture. A win-win for whomever had snatched Ana. To them, a child would be an inconvenience.

There is just no reason to keep her alive. Unless they know what Black Raven stands for. Unless they knew they’ll be hunted to the ends of the earth and their bodies chopped with a dull knife to chum-sized pieces if they dared to cross the line and kill a child of a Black Raven agent.

Oh God. My baby girl.

The Black Raven agent in him ignored the terror and dread, and focused laser-like on all the information, and variables from the information, as the data rolled in. If Ana was dead or alive didn’t change what had to be done in the next few hours, because someone had picked a really big fight, and Black Raven would rise to the occasion. This bully needed to be stopped. There was no going back. No second-guessing the decision to follow the kidnappers’ instructions.

Zeus forced himself to listen to Ragno.

“We’ve known of tunnels along the U.S./Mexico border for years, but what Blaze is telling us about far exceeds any intel we have. And he claims they’re all utilized by the TRCR. Safe to say, if we don’t succeed in rescuing you quickly, it could be days before we find you.”

“Ragno. Sebastian,” Zeus said. “Keep in mind that for all we know, Blaze and his Protectors of Peace are the perps.”

“Understood,” Sebastian said.

“I’m not so sure,” Ragno said. “If so, this would be the first time the Protectors have shown an affiliation with Maximov or the ITT. Also, I’ve looked a little more into Blaze and the Protectors since your phone call with him. Kidnapping a young girl would be inconsistent with their code of conduct, as indicated by their activities of record.”

“Good to know. Theresa.” Zeus placed a gentle hand on his ex’s shoulder. With his other hand, he reached into his briefcase, found his iPhone, and held it in his hand for a moment, without taking it out. The device weighed heavy in his hands, for reasons that had nothing to do with how much it weighed.

His ex lifted her head and stared blankly at him. He caught a tear on his fingertip, a gesture he hadn’t done with her in a long, long time—even though there’d been plenty of tears. He held her chin up so her gaze remained on his. “I’m sorry that you’re going through this. She’ll be there. She’ll be fine. Trust me on this. Okay?”

“Send her back to me.” More tears started falling. “And be safe.”

Nice of his ex to include the afterthought. He patted her on the head as she put it back down on her knees, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Standing, he turned and walked to the corner of the conference room and entered the bathroom. There were two stalls. Both empty. Zeus locked the outer door and turned his back to the mirror. He drew a deep breath, lifted the phone, and couldn’t start.

“Ragno,” he said through his audio feed, dropping his hand with the iPhone to thigh level, “what’s going on with Gabe and Sam?”

“Sam landed. She’s aboard Raven One, stationed a half-hour from the island. Stollen will reach the island in one hour. Gabe’s ready to depart from the base in Germany. The window for reaching Maximov’s body is five to seven hours.”

“Why so long?”

“Radiation concerns. Circuitous route necessary.”

“Once we have remains, we’ll do DNA testing. At most, six hours after acquiring remains we’ll know whether the body is Andre Maximov by doing a paternity test from Vasily Maximov’s DNA.”

“How is Sam doing?”

A pause. “You could talk to her. You have a few minutes.”

“Asking you.”

“Stressed. Anxious, but still cool and professional. She keeps asking Gabe and Jenkins about you and Ana. They’ve given her the standard answer.”
Operation in progress. No details can be provided. “
Which I’m suspecting isn’t helping her stress level.”

“Let her know when they’ve secured Ana.”

“Will do. Geez, Zeus, if Maximov is really dead, this throws a monkey wrench in the ITT trial. Samantha has been on the phone with President Cameron and Judge O’Connor, trying to reason through the implications.”

“Ten minutes out, Zeus,” Sebastian cut into the audio feed.

“Ragno. Sebastian. I’m going silent for a few minutes.”

Zeus pressed his watch, muting their connection. He raised his phone to his face, switched the camera view, drew a deep breath, looked into the lens, and hit video. “Hey, my sweet angel. Just thought I’d tell you how much I… He swallowed hard. “Love you. You know I don’t talk about feelings much.” He visualized his daughter, her sweet, velvety brown eyes, and almost stopped recording. Clearing his throat, keeping his eyes steady, he imagined what his own father would have said, if given a chance for one last heart to heart talk, and continued. “Uncle Gabe and Sebastian are going to decide when you’re old enough to see this, so…you may have figured out some of these things on your own.”

He ticked off the laundry list of items he felt the need to remind her about.
Homework’s important. Listen to your mom. Tell her you love her. What happened between your mom and me wasn’t her fault. Try hard to find something you love to do, and do it every day. Don’t worry about things you can’t control. Be considerate of others. Go out of your way to be nice. Don’t be judgmental—ask your mom about that one—it is one of her strengths. Be strong. Be independent. Ask Sebastian and Uncle Gabe for guidance on those points. But also, ask them both for any help you need.

They love you, unconditionally.

Those were the easy points.

“Most of all honey—I’m sorry. Sorry this night happened, sorry I won’t get to be there with you when you do all the wonderful things you’re going to do in your life. I sure would’ve loved to cheer you on. I never wanted to leave you when you were so young. My dad died when I was sixteen, and I didn’t handle it well. His death took all my happiness from me. You were one of the people in my life who brought it back. You taught me the importance of happiness, so strive for it. Make it happen. Insist upon it. And ask Uncle Gabe how to make sure your life is full of it, because he’s mastered it. Follow his lead. Be your sweet, silly, funny self, even when you’re thirty, fifty, and ninety.”

He drew a deep breath, wondering if there was anything he hadn’t covered. “Oh. Men—don’t fall into the trap of thinking you need one.” Zeus paused, thought about Sam in the tapas restaurant—kudos to her, for picking the man who made her smile, laugh, and glow with happiness. He only hoped his daughter would have Sam’s toughness and resilience. “When it comes down to choosing a man, make sure Gabe and Sebastian approve of him, and after that, pick one who makes you happy. They all come with their own drama. If he doesn’t make you happy, drop him. You don’t need him. If he doesn’t make you feel special—and I mean as though his world won’t turn without you—don’t waste your time on him. I love you, my sweet angel, with all of my heart.”

He pressed stop on the video, and forwarded it to both Gabe and Sebastian’s private email addresses, with the message—
For Ana, when she’s old enough. Sebastian—If the worst happens, please help Gabe take care of my baby girl. She needs solid father figures. Two isn’t too many.

He typed a quick email to his brother.
Gabe—I know you’re going to look at Ana’s video, even if I ask you not to. So I’m not wasting my time asking. I’ve never told you this, but thanks for being that awesome little kid who actually looked up to me after dad died. In those dark years, the fact that you depended on me for so much gave me a reason to get out of bed. Many days, it was the only reason. You’re one of our best agents, but more than that, you grew into a goddamn magnificent human being. I know I was always hard on you. Just want to say I’m proud of you. You didn’t get to know him as well as I did, but I know Dad would’ve been proud of you too. Keep smiling. Love you, brother.

He thought about the other person in his life who might like to know that at this moment, she was on his mind. He lifted the phone, pressed video, and said what needed to be said to her. Next issue—who should safeguard the video. There was no way in hell he was sending this one to his brother. He typed Ragno’s email address, gave a quick instruction and pressed send.

Chapter Thirty-Five

 

The Chihuahuan Desert

Tuesday, February 8

 

“Sir.” Agent Stone glanced at Zeus as they made their first pass over the DZ. “We’re picking up body heat and warm engines from vehicles.”

Stone knelt on the floor of the Cessna, directly in front of Zeus, Leon, and Cox, focusing on his laptop. He was analyzing intel produced from thermographic cameras that were affixed to the body of the aircraft, which was 14,000 feet above the Chihuahan Desert. It was 1905. Ten minutes before their scheduled jump. Heat signatures produced from the forward-looking and sideways-tracking cameras were providing real-time life onto a map of the uninhabited, desert area of the DZ.

“Turn your screen. You’re blocking my view.” Zeus slipped on his helmet. He was no longer in communication with Ragno and Sebastian. Without his mic, and without Ragno and Sebastian’s voices streaming into his thoughts, the whir of the Cessna’s engines throbbed against his eardrums.

The utilitarian plane had two pilots in the cockpit. Behind the pilots, along either side, there was bench seating. Leon, Cox, and Zeus sat together, near the door. So they’d have full night vision upon exiting the aircraft, most lights in the cabin were off, with only a dim red glow provided by floor lights.

Stone shifted sideways in the narrow aisle, and turned his laptop screen toward Zeus as he pointed at pulsing red, orange, white, and green blobs on a map. “Here. Light blue X marks the DZ. Three vehicles, one further back from the other two. As many as twelve people.”

Forcing himself to remain in analytical agent mode, rather than desperate father mode, Zeus scanned the screen. The intel didn’t give the one answer he wanted.

“Eight adults outside of the vehicles. Too large for a child.” Stone’s matter-of-fact words hammered home what Zeus had already figured out. “However,” shifting his finger up, to a large orange and red blob that was the furthest from the blue x, “the heat signature of this vehicle is obscuring human heat.” He pointed to two of the men who were furthest from the vehicles, and pressed a button that gave them a close-up. “Given the intensity of the reading, these men appear to be carrying weapons that have been fired recently.”

At what? Or whom?

With ice slivers chilling his veins, Zeus calmly nodded. He slipped on his goggles as the aircraft banked left. Turning to Leon, he lifted a tether that extended from his parachute pack. “Ready?”

Agent Stone shimmied down the aisle to get out of their way. Leon crouched, her back to him. Zeus knelt behind her, pressed his chest and hips against the small and compact woman’s back and butt, and tethered her to him with the hooks of the tandem harness—two at her shoulders, two at her waist, and two at her legs. The close, almost intimate contact that came with body positioning for tandem jumping usually prompted a joke or some other tension-relieving comment by the jumpers.

Not tonight.

After finishing with the hooks, Zeus slipped on his gloves as Leon did the same.

“Fifteen more vehicles within a five-mile radius.” Stone, who now faced them, turned his laptop screen to provide a full view to Leon, who was tasked with getting his daughter the hell out of there. “They’re primarily using a ridge along the canyon to the Southeast, though four vehicles seem to be working a two mile perimeter. Not an exact circle, given the topography.”

The DZ was in an area of hills, canyons, sand, and brush. Caves, natural and manmade from now abandoned mining activities, riddled the area. Intel from Blaze, and other sources, indicated the possibility of tunnels to the East, closer to the U.S. border.

Leon asked, “Motorcycles?”

“Possibly. All terrain cycles. Larger vehicles appear to be some variation of a jeep.”

Stone and his thermography measurements should let Black Raven know—
hope against all fucking hope
—when Agent Leon exfiltrated with Ana. It would also provide intel on when and how his agents could intercept them. Zeus had little confidence that thermography would aid Black Raven’s ability to find Cox or himself, because caves and tunnels could impede the imagery.

The cameras could see through fog, clouds, and brush, but there were limitations. Yards and yards of dense-packed earth blocked heat signatures. If their captors slipped into a cave, or travelled through a deep tunnel, he and Cox would be lost to Black Raven.

From the front of the plane, the co-pilot said, “We’re turning into the second pass now.”

He and Leon would jump at the second pass. Cox would follow only after getting a signal from Zeus once he was on the ground.

Having Barrows’ impersonator jump separately was a major deviation from the instructions. It had been Zeus’s idea, and Sebastian had agreed with the call, because it gave Zeus—once on the ground—a small measure of power with which he could negotiate for Ana’s safety. Another consideration for the change of plan was that to get Barrows, the perps would have to allow Zeus to communicate and give an all clear. In that communication, Zeus would divulge a multitude of information to Black Raven, something that was SOP in the Black Raven handbook.

When the Cessna straightened and slowed, Zeus glanced back at Cox. “Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.” Cox gave a thumbs up. “Good luck, sir.”

Zeus and Leon stood at the door, waiting for the pilot to signal before opening it. “Leon—”

“No thanks needed, sir.” She gave him an over-shoulder glance. Through her goggles, her eyes were calm. Her expression revealed no emotion—the serious look of a Black Raven agent on a mission. “I’m looking forward to returning Ana to you. Thank me then, if you feel the need.”

Her calm expression changed. Worry filtered into her eyes, lines creased her forehead, and an anxious, yet pissed-off frown, appeared at her lips. She looked like a woman fighting valiantly through her fear—yet fear was winning. With a wink, Leon said, “From here on out, I’m no longer an agent. I’m an ex-wife and mother who is frightened to within an inch of her life for her daughter.”

And she damn well looked the part. “Great job,” Zeus said.

On the pilot’s thumbs-up signal, Zeus opened the door. Cold wind whooshed into the plane as he stared out onto an inky black, cloudless sky speckled with stars. In the distance, a thin crescent moon provided a bit of light. Not enough to illuminate the ground below.

“One,” Zeus’s count to Leon was guided by the pilot’s hand signals. “Two. Three.”

Zeus and Leon rolled out, free falling through chilly, dry air. He’d done enough skydiving, including night jumps, that the steps came automatically. With Leon back-bending into him from the force of the drop, Zeus glanced upwards to check that their drogue chute had deployed, then focused on the bright, glow-in-the-dark altimeter on his wrist. At 3,000 feet, he deployed the main chute. Once fully under canopy, he handed Leon the toggles and made a few harness adjustments. Taking the toggles back, he estimated four minutes before landing. The pilots had told him all forecasts indicated negligible winds, and they were correct.

In the far distance, to the west, Zeus saw the lights of Ciudad Juarez. To the northeast, a faint blur on the horizon was El Paso. Below, there was only an inky black sea and above, an eternity of a cloudless night sky, that looked like an artist’s rendering of stars on blue-black paint. Only one thought played in his head as he alternated his glance between the darkness and the bright altimeter reading on his wrist.

Please God, let Ana be alive
.

At 1,200 feet, Leon pointed to their right. “Lights. DZ.”

“Got it.” Pushing down on the toggles with his right arm, and lifting his left, he steered them so they had a better view. Vehicles were lighting the DZ, just as the thermographic images had displayed on Stone’s laptop.

As they dropped, more details came into view. Black jeeps had a row of lights on their roofs. Bright light illuminated sandy ground. Scrub brush and cactus, green, gray, and brown when illuminated, looked black as the light faded into shadows.

No sign of Ana.

Eight men stood in front of two vehicles, dressed in black, with ski-masks obscuring their features. They held AKs. Four of them had those weapons trained on their descent.

Hello, fuckers
.

“Show time.” Zeus whispered to Leon at fifty feet. “Go for it.”

“Where’s my baby?” Leon shouted, voice just this side of hysterical. “You bastards. Where is she?”

His feet found the ground. Carried by momentum for a few steps, Zeus started stripping off the harness and chute as he moved forward, unhooking Leon first. “Getting hysterical isn't going to make them bring Ana to us, Theresa.” Zeus shot her a furious look as he pulled off his helmet and goggles and dropped them to the ground. “Shut the fuck up and let me handle this.”

They’d landed in an area where machismo was everything. Zeus was selling it for all he was worth.

After slipping off her helmet and goggles, she threw them in the direction of the men, but missed any one of them by a few feet. Then she shoved both hands against Zeus’s chest. “If it wasn’t for you, Ana wouldn’t have been taken, so don’t you dare tell me what to do!” Zeus grabbed her, pulling her into him. Spinning on her heels, but still in Zeus’s arms, Leon faced the men. “Show me my daughter, you monsters. Now. Where is she?”

One vehicle hung a bit further back, idling. Zeus couldn’t see whether Ana was in it. “Don’t see her. Maybe jeep. Farthest away,” he said, not moving his lips.

Leon gave a small nod before breaking free of his hold. When she lunged towards the men, Zeus pulled her back, closer to him, as though protecting her. Focusing on the eight men who were approaching them, Zeus yelled, “Stop playing games. Give us our daughter.”

Because the men were backlit by the glare from the vehicle lights, it was hard to see too many details.

“I don’t see Barrows, Hernandez. You know the deal.”

“My daughter first.” Zeus demanded, nominally struggling as two men grabbed him by his upper arms. Under normal circumstances they’d be flat on their backs, bleeding profusely. But these weren't normal circumstances. “Don't you fucking lay a hand on—”

A rifle butt on the temple cut him off, and Leon was grabbed. Like a wild-cat, she fought and kicked at the two men who had her, screaming her head off loud enough to be heard aboard the circling plane.

The man ended her screams with a solid punch to her jaw. “Shut up, bitch.”

Leon, the agent, would never have let him land that punch. As Theresa, Leon did a great job of dodging most of the blow, and a better job of shaking her head in wide-eyed, hurt surprise. She held her hand to her jaw, tears replacing her screams as one man immobilized her with a thick arm around her chest. Another frisked her.

The men were well trained and moved with precision. Their shiny, custom-rigged jeeps looked expensive. They gave the impression of having hefty backing.

With his arms locked down in a vice-like grip by two huge men, a third guy, unarmed, stepped closer. He signaled to a behemoth with a finger directed at Zeus. “Julio. Frisk them. Scan them.”

“It doesn’t take much of a man to best someone when his opponent is being held,” Zeus said, tone mocking. Big and burly, the dickhead who’d gestured for Julio seemed to be the guy in charge. “Don’t trust me?”

“Shut him the hell up.” To Zeus, the dickhead who was issuing orders—a solid, six foot-tall square of a man—became DIC. Dick In Charge. The other men all wore black hiking boots. DIC, who’d spoken in an authoritative, confident tone, wore cowboy boots with shiny, metal tipped toes. “Knock out that smart-ass attitude.”

Taller than Zeus, with shoulders that looked like he could carry a boulder, and wide legs that indicated he had, a behemoth of a man—presumably Julio—stepped forward. He used the grip of his rifle like a club against Zeus’s head. The hard blow to his temple made Zeus stagger and see stars. He’d have fallen, but for the grip of the two goons holding him upright. The behemoth frisked him, landing punches as he travelled down Zeus’s body. Another man came by with a scanner, ran it up and down his body, and also scanned Theresa.

When the stars in his vision cleared, Zeus focused his attention on DIC. Obviously, their leader. The father in him broke through the cool agent veneer he was struggling to maintain. “You slimy fucking coward. Who’s bankrolling you? You can’t really believe the Maximov line of bullshit? Either way, it doesn’t fucking matter, because—”

“Zeus!” Leon shouted, her voice high pitched as she thrashed and struggled in the hold of the two men restraining her. “Tell them, for God’s sake! Tell them we’ll pay whatever they ask. We’ll meet your demands. Anything. Just please let her go. She has nothing to do with you. And she certainly shouldn’t be used to get to…” Struggling against the man who had a firm hold of her arms, Leon glanced at Zeus with disdain-laced fury that only an ex-wife could muster, as though believing whatever bad shit happened was somehow his fault. “…him. Please. Just give her to me.”

DIC stepped forward, “I won’t ask again, Jesus.” Without a trace of a Hispanic accent, he used the Anglo pronunciation of Zeus’s name. “Where the fuck is Barrows?”

“He’ll jump on signal from me. After you produce my daughter to her mother and give them safe passage.”

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