The Echo of Violence Page 12

  Kinkaid wouldn’t be happy. The man had followed the tracks Manny found with a frightening obsession. To convince him to retrace his steps wouldn’t be easy, but she had to try.

  “We can’t stay out here,” she cried, hoping Kinkaid heard her through the rain. But if he had, he ignored her. She yelled again, “We gotta find shelter.”

  Kinkaid had pushed ahead looking for the footprints he’d recognized. Now she couldn’t stop him. It was getting darker, and the rain had obliterated the tracks. Any footprints had filled with rain and were submerged in puddles of mud. And their own tracks would trample what little remained. Kinkaid kept his head down and searched like a madman for signs that he was still on the right trail. And in weather like this, he could make a mistake and put them off the right path.

  “We can make camp near here,” she argued. “We’ll pick it up in the morning, when we can see better.”

  “But the rain…” he yelled over his shoulder. “It’s wiping out the tracks. If we wait until morning, the trail will be gone.”

  “My team is good,” she countered. “We’ll track other signs, Jackson.”

  He ignored her and staggered into the wind, holding up an arm to fend off the blowing branches. Alexa turned to see her men close behind. They were doing their best, but she knew what they were thinking. Kinkaid had lost his objectivity. She had to make the decision and do what was right for all of them, even if it turned him against her.

  “You might be leading us the wrong way. And that could take us twice as much time to find their trail again.” She stopped fighting the wind and stood her ground. “I’m ordering you to stop.”

  He shook his head. And when he stumbled and slowed down, she stepped into his path.

  “Don’t make me the bad guy.” Alexa lowered her voice so only he would hear. She placed both hands on his chest, but that still didn’t stop him. When he pushed by her, she yelled, “You know I’m right. What are you doing?”

  Although Kinkaid finally stopped fighting, he didn’t return her stare. He raised his face into the darkening skies and the punishing rain, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. His hair and clothes were drenched, like hers, except he looked exhausted and beaten.

  Something was terribly wrong.

  “Talk to me, Jackson,” she pleaded. “What’s going on?”

  She wanted to ask him about Kate, but was afraid what his reaction might be. The man didn’t look stable. And when she finally got his marginal attention, he lowered his head and looked past her. He zoned out with a half-lidded gaze as if he’d forgotten where he was. His skin was pale, and he rocked on his heels, unsteady.

  “Jackson?” She grimaced. “You’re scaring me. And that’s not easy to do.”

  It was the last thing she said before his eyes rolled into his head. His body fell hard to the ground in a backwash of mud.

  Jackson Kinkaid had passed out at her feet.

  New York City

  Sentinels Headquarters

  “I haven’t been able to get through to Alexa.” In his office, Garrett paced the floor in front of his wall of monitors. Even with all the technology available to him, nothing worked. “The edge of the hurricane has made landfall. The storm’s interfering with communications.”

  “That’s understandable. When did you last talk to her?” Tanya Spencer asked as she took a seat on the sofa.

  “Two hours ago. I gave her an update on the storm and warned her to take shelter, but you know Alexa.” He tried to smile and couldn’t.

  “What path are they projecting for the hurricane?” Tanya Spencer asked him. “Are Alexa and her team in its path?”

  He stopped and shifted his gaze toward the weather channel. A swirling mass of radar projected hurricane Alex would hit Cuba. And even though there was irony in the fact that the storm had been named for a man—a name so similar to Alexa’s—Garrett had a sinking feeling that this storm had her name written all over it.

  “Well, the southeast part of the island isn’t directly in the path, but it’ll be close enough not to matter.” He unbuttoned his shirt collar, yanked at his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. “The only saving grace is that she’ll avoid the flooding if she stays in the mountains. She might find enough shelter there.”

  Wishful thinking was not his forte. He sucked at it.

  “You said you wanted to talk about the terrorist cell who claimed responsibility a few hours ago,” she reminded him.

  He knew Tanya well enough to see she’d changed topics to get his mind off Alexa. And worrying about the weather did them no good.

  “The group who claimed the kidnappings on the Internet was an outfit called the National Liberation Army,” he told her. “They were originally a Marxist insurgent group based out of Colombia. They’ve been in existence since the mid-sixties, inspired by Castro and Che Guevara. They have terrorist cells training in Cuba.”

  “Why would such a group commit an act of terrorism in an impoverished country like Haiti, then take the hostages back to Cuba? For that matter, why take hostages from there at all?” she asked. “You’d think they would launch an attack where they could abduct vacationing tourists, people with money.”

  “Your instincts would be dead-on, but I think this was a training exercise. Whoever they are, I think they’re preparing for something bigger…on turf where they feel comfortable.” He shook his head and slumped in a chair across from her. “And as to why they took the hostages to Castro country, Cuba provides safe haven, medical care, and support for this group. And it’s believed they have ties to Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. Venezuela’s involvement broadens their playing field. I think something else is going on here.”

  “You have a theory?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “The National Liberation Army conducts hundreds of kidnappings for ransom in a year, and they generally target the employees of large foreign corporations. This broader focus doesn’t fit the MO of the terrorist cell Alexa is tracking. The group claiming responsibility may be creating a smoke screen to cover up another agenda, or they’re lying about who they are to throw off authorities.” He leaned forward and rested his palms on his knees. “The tactics feel like Islamic Jihad, maybe a group out of Afghanistan in training for something bigger. Or maybe their goal is to aggravate an already strained situation between the U.S. and Cuba or Venezuela. America doesn’t need another global distraction, not with a faltering domestic economy.”

  “Has this group asked for ransom money?” she asked. Before he answered her question, she posed another idea. “Maybe it’s not about money. They’ve already posted one gruesome video that’s getting attention. Perhaps they’re after headlines in a global arena. These hostages could be nothing more than collateral damage to the cause.”

  He’d already leapt to the same conclusion until wishful thinking intervened.

  “There have been no demands for money, but that might be due to the weather,” he said. “They have no way to communicate until the hurricane passes.”

  The hopelessness of the hostage situation made him understand why Kinkaid had been so relentless, especially if there were innocent children involved, as the Haitian police had reported. And if his theory about this being a training exercise for a larger operation was right, Kinkaid’s emergency call might thwart a more dangerous scheme geared for a higher body count. Gut instinct told him more was at stake for the terrorists than the lives of the hostages or any paltry ransom money.

  “We need to track these bastards by other means. If we can find a way to trace their last transmission, that might provide us a clue. We could know what to look for when they post another video.”

  “What makes you think they’ll post again?”

  “They took a video cam with them for a reason. Groups like this crave attention.” He nodded. “They’ll post again. Each upload is a fucking victory lap.”

  His mind raced, formulating a plan and the logistics he’d need to pull it off. He got to his feet and went to his desk to jot d
own his thoughts.

  “When we get through this storm, Alexa will need our help,” he said, keeping his attention on the notepad as he continued, “If we know how to track these guys, we can give her an edge and have a backup team airborne to support her on the ground.”

  When his phone rang, Tanya stood and prepared to give him privacy. He glanced at the display and recognized the extension for security.

  “I’ve got to take this, but stick around.” He picked up his phone. “Wheeler.”

  A man from security informed him that his car service had arrived in the secured parking garage. His visitor was in custody and still wearing a blindfold. Jessica Beckett would be escorting the young man to his office.

  “Can I send him up, sir?” the guard asked.

  “Yes, immediately. And thanks.” He hung up the phone and looked at Tanya. “Our visitor has arrived. Get your team ready. I want him to hit the ground running. Use your judgment and give him what he needs. He’ll be under your supervision.”

  “Works for me.” She left his office and shut the door behind her.

  And for the first time today, Garrett smiled and meant it. “Great timing, Seth Harper.”

  “Bet this stop isn’t in any brochure,” Harper said. When Jess didn’t answer, he yanked her chain again. “Not exactly what I had in mind when I came to New York. Sightseeing works best when you can actually…see, Jessie.”

  Seth walked slowly down a corridor with a blindfold covering half his face. He carried an overnight bag on his shoulder at Garrett’s suggestion. Seth would be the guest of the Sentinels.

  “Maybe we can put this blindfold to good use later, just you and me,” he added. She heard the smile in his voice and pictured him with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “After all, I let you see me naked. The least you could do is return the favor.”

  “Thanks for the privilege, Harper. Next time you should charge admission.”

  “Next time?”

  Jess held his hand and heaved a sigh with an eye roll she knew he couldn’t appreciate. They were near Garrett Wheeler’s office—an intimidating place she’d only been to once. Whatever was happening with Alexa, it had to be important for Garrett to bring Seth into their operation. She joked for Harper’s sake, but she was worried for Alexa.

  Seth let her lead him to the closed office door. He was having fun with all the security protocol. She only hoped he’d still have a sense of humor when this was all over.

  Garrett had explained enough for her to appreciate that Alexa needed Seth’s computer expertise, and time was apparently critical. When she presented the situation to Harper, he agreed to help without hesitation. She expected nothing less from a guy she’d grown to respect—personally and professionally—if computer hacking and online surveillance that bordered on criminal activity could be construed as “professional.” The guy bent the ethics rules when it came to tracking criminal activity on the computer.

  That could earn him a definite plus on his résumé—or five to ten in prison.

  Jess let go of Seth’s hand to knock on Garrett’s door. She heard a man’s voice inside, giving her permission to enter. When she led Harper in, Garrett wasn’t alone. He had Tanya Spencer with him, his senior analyst and advisor.

  Before introductions were made, Garrett exchanged looks with his analyst, and Tanya shrugged.

  “Why is he still blindfolded?” her boss asked. “Once he was secured in the building, I thought you knew he could ditch the headgear.”

  All eyes were on her. Jess pursed her lips and avoided their questioning stares until Harper figured it out.

  “Very funny, Jessie.” He yanked down the blindfold and left it dangling around his neck. “You’d be a riot at a firing squad.”

  In truth, it wasn’t a prank. She liked having Harper reliant on her for a change. And having a semi-legitimate excuse to hold his hand was an added bonus. The first time she put her hand in his, a rush of intimacy swept through her. She loved the warmth of his skin next to hers even though it made letting go harder to do.

  Her new boss made the introductions and took great pleasure in shaking Harper’s hand. Jess noticed Garrett’s eye contact as he fixed on Seth with all the enthusiasm of a scientist testing a new lab rat. After everyone made nice, they sat and the briefing got under way.

  Jess sensed that Garrett left key elements out of his update. He only named Alexa so Harper would understand why he had been asked to get involved. And he focused on details Seth would know from the news. Even Jess had heard about the incident in Haiti on CNN. She had no idea Alexa had anything to do with the aftermath of those tragic abductions. And with the added complication of the hurricane bearing down on Cuba, Jess understood why Garrett needed the extra help. Having Seth in New York had been a stroke of good fortune.

  But Harper had his own thoughts on the subject.

  “Yeah, I want to help Alexa, but why me?” Seth asked. “You’ve got all the spy toys and probably an army of computer wizards to work this. Why all the cloak-and-dagger to bring me in?”

  Seth made his intentions known. He’d help for the sake of a friend, but he wanted Garrett to give him something, like a little more honesty.

  “Bottom line, it takes time to hunt down the source of a transmission like this. And with lives at stake and the nasty weather, time is not on our side,” Garrett told him. “My people could use the extra help. Do you have any idea how we can trace the source of this video?”

  Seth furrowed his brow to form that endearing crease she’d seen many times before. And in typical Harper fashion, he answered without hesitation, making the complicated appear simple.

  “Yeah, I think I do. But you have to understand that terrorists use the Internet to avoid detection…or so I’ve heard,” Seth began. “And there’s a reason for that. Chasing online accounts can be next to impossible if the Internet service provider is international. Some countries aren’t into holding hands, singing ‘Kumbaya,’ and doling out goodwill to all mankind. And if the terrorists are savvy, they buy phone service using Internet numbers that can be paid by wire transfer from someone using fake ID. So that becomes a dead end fast. They could also transmit through a handler who acts like a middleman, and we’d be chasing our tails.”

  Harper had Tanya’s attention. The woman fixed her gaze on him and didn’t waver. “So what do you propose?” she asked.

  “I say we forget about wasting time with tracking down ISP addresses and dead-end phone numbers. Let’s cut to the chase and trace high-density bandwidths. That video transmission upload takes some juice and the high-density bandwidth will stand out like a flare in cyberspace in that part of the world.”

  Garrett cocked his head and leaned closer to Harper. “And you can do this?”

  “Well, yeah. Sure.” He shrugged, as if the man had asked him if he knew how to ride a bike. “With a process of elimination, we can find the source of that transmission. And your satellite capability will allow us to triangulate the signal and track them. Once we pinpoint their position, we’ll know what to look for when they transmit again.”

  “That just might work,” Tanya agreed.

  Garrett grinned. “Exactly what I wanted to hear. You’ve been reading my mail, Seth.”

  “No, but give me a little time, and I might.” Harper nodded with a deadpan expression.

  “He’s only joking, Garrett.” Jess forced a laugh and nudged Harper in the ribs.

  “I’ve got a workstation set up for you, Seth. Whatever you need, you come to me,” Tanya said.

  “You’ll report to Tanya,” Garrett told him. “I’m sorry about interrupting your vacation. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  “No need, sir. Helping Alexa is good enough for me.” Seth stood and shook Garrett’s hand. Jess suspected Garrett was still sizing him up, but by the look on his face, she could tell he liked what he’d seen so far.

  While Tanya cornered Harper, and they launched into geek speak about what he’d need, Jess took the opportun
ity to have a little one-on-one with Garrett.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asked him. “I’ve got to do something.”

  “Stick with Harper. If he can pinpoint these bastards, that’ll be crucial intel. And once I get a plan and clearer weather, you’ll get your first assignment. Count on it.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, Garrett.”

  When another question lurked in her mind, she lowered her voice so Harper wouldn’t hear. “How’s Alexa…I mean, really?”

  Up close, she saw the dark circles under Garrett’s eyes, and that told her all she needed to know about how much sleep he’d gotten since Alexa left on assignment. And he didn’t even bother to hide his concern.

  Garrett sighed. “I wish I knew.”

  Southeast Cuba

  Sierra Maestra Mountain Range

  In a small clearing, Sister Kate wobbled on her knees, barely able to stay upright. She’d been beaten and shoved to the ground by the cruel man who held her by the hair and wielded a machete. He ordered his man with the video cam to record what he was about to do. She didn’t have to understand his language to know what would come next.

  Tears streamed down Kate’s face. And she tasted blood from a cut lip and felt the heat from her swollen cheek.

  When the camera lights came on, the glow cast eerie shadows onto the thrashing tree branches. And the blowing rain drenched her face and tunic. Armed men gathered around—a threatening horde backlit by the light—mocking her in a language she was thankful she didn’t understand. They took turns spitting at her. And after her hands were tied behind her back, one young man earned cheers when he grabbed her breasts and squeezed. She winced with the pain.

  But she kept her eyes on the camera.

  Once the red light came on, she knew precious seconds would be all she’d have left. Time slowed to a painstaking crawl. She heard the beat of her heart, a relentless thud in her ears. The intensifying sound dulled the noise of the agitated men and muffled their insults. And when she felt the man yank her hair, she braced herself. He shifted his weight and tightened his grip.