Authors: Shannon Greenland

Tags: #Suspense

The Winning Element (21 page)

BOOK: The Winning Element

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That was why I
had
to get a tracker into their bloodstream via the mints, or the sugar, or the simulated mosquito sting. Trackers in the blood were the only type that couldn’t be detected and would definitely give us their coordinates.

"GiGi?”

I snapped to attention. “What?” I glanced around. TL had gone on ahead to the bonfire.

“I said, are you ready?”

I grabbed Beaker’s arm. “Listen, you gotta cover for me. I transferred a thirty-minute bug to one of Eduardo’s men. If I don’t go now and follow them, I’ll lose them”

“What am I supposed to say if someone asks where you are?”

“I’m in the bathroom with girl issues,” I said, taking out my cell phone and activating the tracking software. “No one argues when someone has girl issues.”

Two red dots popped up on my screen. The twins. And a blue dot. Eduardo’s man. I raced for the door. “Be back before you know it.”

With a glance down the hall toward the lobby, I headed in the opposite direction, past a few rooms, and out the side exit door. I trailed along the length of the hotel to the front and slipped the rose-colored glasses back on.

I checked out the portico where two bellmen lingered near their stand, reviewing a logbook. A red DNA trail led from the hotel’s front doors across the portico, and then stopped where Eduardo and his men must have gotten into a car. This was why we definitely needed a tracker on them. Anytime they got in a car, we’d lose their DNA trail.

Looking again at my cell phone, I confirmed the blue dot was still there. I took off down the long driveway, staying behind the bushes and palms, praying no one would see my tall blond self or red-and-white cheerleading getup. I wasn’t exactly dressed for espionage.

In the distance, cheerleaders hooted and hollered at the bonfire rally. Poor Beaker. At least she had Lessy and Jessy.

Streetlights kicked on along the hotel’s driveway and down in town. To the right, the sun dipped into the ocean’s horizon.

Perfect. It would be pitch-black in no time.

I reached the bottom of the driveway and checked the blue dot on my phone screen. Eduardo and his men had already made it across the five-mile wide island to the other side.

Shoving my phone into my warm-ups pocket, I snapped the flap and took off running through town.

I tried to make it look more like a healthy jog than a frantic chase. I didn’t need anyone calling 911.

Hello, officer? There’s this tall blond girl running for her life through town.

Wouldn’t
that
be great?

I had said it before, but I would say it again. Thank God for PT back at the ranch. There was no
way
I could make this run without it.

One mile in, I passed a boy on a bike and cut a U-ie. “Hey, kid, let me borrow your bike. I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

The kid narrowed his eyes. “Let me see the money.”

Smart kid. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my zipper pouch, hoping I did indeed have twenty bucks.

Thirty in all. Phew. I gave him twenty and pointed to the grocery store across the road. “I’ll leave it in the bike rack in front of that store on the right. Cool with you?”

“Cool.” He pocketed the money.

I climbed on his mini-dirt bike and away I went, pumping down the sidewalk, my knees nearly hitting my chest.

Twenty minutes later, I made it to the other side of the island. I stopped and checked my cell phone. The blue dot was beginning to fade, indicating the thirty-minute tracker was dissolving, but from what I could tell, Eduardo was to my right.

I rode into a deserted parking lot of the state park. Behind me stretched a half mile of beach highway leading back into town. In front of me spanned the dark ocean lit only by the half moon. To the left stood a small concrete visitor’s station.

With the DNA glasses still on, I scanned the area. A red trail led from the parking lot, where the car must have dropped him and drove off, and onto the beach.

Leaving the bike, I followed the red trail across the beach and down the length of a long pier. The red trail stopped at the end of the pier, where a boat had probably picked him up.

There was no telling how far out he’d gone.

I unsnapped my pocket and pulled out the cell phone. I activated the audio recording/eavesdropping software Chapling had coded in.

Here went nothing.

I programmed it to record everything within a mile in front of me. Slowly, I scanned the ocean, moving from left to right, degree by degree, listening closely.

Static. Birds. Wind. Bugs. Nothing else.

I reprogrammed it for two miles and started over, left to right, degree by degree.

Bingo!

A faint conversation in what sounded like Spanish. Definitely Eduardo’s deep, ugly voice.

Holding the phone steady, I pressed the record button and listened for fifteen solid minutes, wishing Parrot was here with me to translate immediately.

Through the phone I heard the boat’s motor crank. Depressing the record button again, I sprinted back down the pier across the beach to the bike.

Down the highway, headlights pierced the night.

Crap.

Praying,
praying,
no one would see my blond head and flashy cheerleading outfit, I picked up the bike and ran for the visitor’s station.

Right as the car pulled into the lot, I ducked into the shadows behind the concrete structure.

I drew in deep breaths and blew them out slowly, repeating the process a couple of times. Gradually, my thumping heart and heavy breaths normalized.

Peeking around the building’s corner, I watched as a black Cadillac with tinted windows rolled to a stop.

A dark-haired man dressed in a suit climbed from the driver’s side. I recognized him as one of the guys who had been in the elevator with Eduardo back at the hotel. I switched my phone to infrared mode, killed the flash, and snapped a picture of him.

He shut his door and leaned up against the car.

Minutes later, Eduardo and two more men emerged from the beach’s darkness. I zoomed in on each face and got a picture.

They began speaking. From the distance between us their voices came across muffled, but I could still make out the conversation.

“What are we going to do with him?” one of the men asked in perfect English.

“Kill him,” Eduardo responded, as if he was answering a pleasant question.

“And the woman and children?” the man asked.

“Did any of them see you deliver the money?”

The man nodded. “Two of them did.”

Eduardo shrugged. “Kill them, too.”

“How do you want it done?”

Eduardo stepped toward the car. “The usual—bullets to the head. All of them.”

My whole body froze as I listened to them discuss killing an entire family. That easy. Bullets to the head. Just like my parents.

You can’t just kill a whole family,
I wanted to scream. What had they done that was so wrong?

The driver opened the door for Eduardo, the other men climbed in, and the car drove away.

I made myself get up when all I wanted to do was stay cowered in the shadows, grieving for the family that was about to die. A family that, although I didn’t know them, was just like mine.

Crossing behind the visitor’s center, I got a picture of the license plate as they pulled from the lot.

Waiting until its rear lights disappeared, I climbed on the bike and pedaled my way back down the highway, through town, and to the grocery store with the bike rack. I walked the remaining mile to the hotel, my footsteps heavy to match my thoughts.

David had said not to let my emotions cloud the mission. But this time I couldn’t help it. I thought about what my life would have been like if Eduardo hadn’t ruined it. Hadn’t taken the two most important things from me. Where would I be right now? Still in Iowa? I’d probably live in a really cool house with maybe a dog. We’d go on family vacations every year. I’d help my mom cook dinner at night and help my dad on the weekends do lawn work. My mom and I might have planted a flower garden. Our Christmas tree would have been medium-size, with white lights and blue decorations.

Someone pushed through the exit door of the hotel as I approached, bringing me from my reverie. I walked in the hotel and took the stairs up to our floor.

Sweaty from my bike ride and worn out from my thoughts, I entered our room. There sat TL and Beaker. Him on one bed, her on the other, and the blue pyramid on the nightstand between them.

I knew I was in trouble. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

TL indicated the desk chair. “Sit.”

I glanced at Beaker as I sat. She gave me a good-luck look. “Where’re the twins?”

“Downstairs,” Beaker answered, “practicing their routine for tomorrow.”

Nodding, I turned my attention to TL, wanting to get the whole thing over with.

“Back at the ranch I told you that you were developing into a person I hadn’t expected you to. At least, not this quickly.” He shifted on the bed. “There’s nothing wrong with being an independent thinker and making your own decisions. But there’s a time and place for that sort of thing. This isn’t it. There’s something wrong when you’re with a team and you’re not using them.”

He pointed across the room to me. “You are sixteen and a half. Letting you plan this mission was a test. You have not had enough training to be making some of the decisions you’re making, like going after Eduardo by yourself. And you have enough intelligence in that head of yours to understand that.”

Reluctantly, my brain agreed with him.

"GiGi, you are extremely gifted. In so many ways. I don’t think you fully comprehend what you are capable of.” TL shook his head. “But I’m really disappointed in you. And that’s something I never thought I’d say to you.”

I glanced down at the carpeting, my heart sinking, but all I could think about was the family. “There’s a family that’s about to die,” I whispered.

“I know. I know where you’ve been. I know what you’ve done. And I know you have a recording and pictures.”

[11]

"whaT?” I brought my eyes up to his.

“I told you I’d always be watching you.”

BOOK: The Winning Element

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