Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  Stephanie had just reached her desk when her cell phone started ringing. She sighed and dropped the folders Matt gave her on the desk before pulling the cell phone out of its holster on her waistband.

  “Hello?” she answered, glancing up as someone called her name across the department. Her boss, Rob Thornton, was waving from his office door. She held up her finger to indicate she would be there in a minute and he disappeared back into his office.

  “We found Rodrigo,” John told her.

  Stephanie stilled.

  “Where?”

  “In the haunted walk at the back,” he answered. “It's kind of a mess.”

  “Tell me.” Stephanie sank into her chair and rubbed her forehead. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet and she was already getting a headache.

  “He was in a section that was supposed to be an operating room. According to Karl, the actors portray a patient eating a doctors head during the walk,” John said.

  Stephanie's mind flashed back to Friday night and the image of a young woman holding a severed head in her hands.

  “I remember it,” she said slowly. “The actress was dressed in a patient's gown and the doctor was on the table behind her. She was eating something out of a severed head.”

  “Appetizing,” John muttered. “Well, what's left of Rodrigo is left on that table.”

  “What do you mean, 'what's left?'” Stephanie demanded.

  “Aside from his missing arm and head, they sliced him open and disemboweled him,” John informed her bluntly.

  Stephanie swallowed and heard a faint buzzing in her ear.

  “They...what?” she repeated faintly.

  “It's a mess,” John repeated. “It looks like they did it here. There's fake blood everywhere, so I've got a team going through it all to separate any real blood from the fake crap spread everywhere. Larry's on his way.”

  “Oh God!” Stephanie dropped her forehead into her hand and took a deep breath. “Rob just called me. I have to go see him, then I'll be on my way. Get as many pictures yourself as you can.”

  “Already done,” John answered.

  “Good. I'll be there as soon as I can.” Stephanie stood up shakily. “I have IDs on our mystery couple. You're not going to like it.”

  “I think I'm beyond surprise at this point,” John muttered. “Who are they?”

  “Well, the man is Mexican Cartel,” Stephanie told him.

  John was silent for a long moment.

  “I stand corrected,” he finally said. “I'm apparently not beyond surprise. What the hell is a Mexican Cartel doing in Jersey?!?!”

  “I don't know,” Stephanie started walking across the floor toward Rob's office, “but I can tell you one thing. The Black Widow already knew.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Remember what she said about the head being a warning?” Stephanie asked. “You said that practice went out with the Dark Ages. She didn't miss a beat when she said it was still prevalent in some cultures.”

  “And the cartels do crap like that all the time,” John finished. “Shit.”

  “I think we'll pay her a visit tonight,” Stephanie told him. “It's time to find out what she knows.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stephanie knocked briefly on Rob's open door and stepped inside, sliding her phone back into the holster at her waist. Her boss was seated at his desk, typing away on his laptop, surrounded by papers, folders and clutter. He looked up when she entered and nodded, standing.

  “Stephanie!” he greeted her and motioned to a chair in front of his desk. Rob stood close to six feet tall and had friendly green eyes that usually held some sort of twinkle when they met hers. “I wanted to see where you're at with this Rodrigo Frietas thing.”

  “That's a good question, Rob,” Stephanie murmured, sinking into a chair.

  Rob raised an eyebrow and sat down, studying her over the desk.

  “That doesn't sound encouraging,” he said. “What's the latest?”

  “John just called. He found Rodrigo's body in the maze behind the prison,” Stephanie told him. “I'm on my way there now.”

  “Do we have his hardware yet?” Rob asked, sitting back and steepling his fingers under his chin.

  “Tech picked it up half an hour ago.” Stephanie rubbed the back of her neck and rolled her shoulders. “Matt says he might have something for me by the end of the day or tomorrow.”

  “I don't need to tell you the bank is nervous at the thought of any kind of breach into their network,” Rob said slowly. “How confident are you that Rodrigo was one of the hackers?”

  “I'm positive,” Stephanie answered promptly. “I think I've got names on the other two as well.”

  Rob raised his eyebrows.

  “That's good news!” he exclaimed. “Do you think we can wrap this up soon?”

  “Hopefully,” Stephanie answered. “But I've run into a hiccup.”

  “What's that?”

  “It's starting to look like a Mexican Cartel may be involved,” Stephanie said slowly and Rob's mouth dropped open.

  “What?” he exclaimed. “I thought our intel says the hackers are working for North Korea!”

  “It does.” Stephanie crossed her legs and sat back in the chair, suddenly exhausted. “I don't know what to make of it. All our intel, including Rodrigo's initial statement, indicates the hacking ring is being funded by NicTel Corporation. It's an electronics firm that, among other things, is a major contributor to the North Korean regime. You know all about that already. However, now it appears that someone named Lorenzo Porras may have been the one to put Rodrigo's arm in the cell.”

  “And this Lorenzo Porras has ties to a cartel?” Rob asked, frowning.

  “More than just ties. He's high up in the Casa Reino Cartel,” Stephanie told him. “Matt just ID'd him from a surveillance photo from the museum.”

  “Fabulous,” Rob muttered. “What the hell is a Mexican Cartel doing getting involved with the North Koreans?”

  “I have no idea,” Stephanie replied. “My gut tells me it's not just coincidence.”

  “No, no,” Rob agreed, shaking his head. “If a cartel's in town, it's no coincidence.”

  “Apparently, we have an agent out of Washington who is already tracking one of the cartel members,” Stephanie said slowly. “Matt says it's Blake Hanover.”

  “Blake?” Rob looked up. “I know Blake. He's a damn good agent. He's already tracking them, you say?”

  “I don't say,” Stephanie corrected with a tired smile. “Matt says. Supposedly DEA lost the cartel Lieutenant, a Jenaro Gomez, when he came across the border last month. Agent Hanover is looking for him.”

  “I'll call down to Blake's boss and see what I can find out,” Rob told her. “He might be able to shed some light on your case. You'll like Blake. He's like you.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He doesn't give up once he has his teeth into something,” Rob answered with a grin. “I'll see what I can arrange.”

  “I appreciate that,” Stephanie told him and stood up.

  “Before you go,” Rob stopped her. “I found something out this morning you'll find interesting.”

  “Oh?”

  “Ever hear of a man named Jin Seung Moon?” Rob asked her.

  Stephanie frowned and shook her head.

  “No. Who is he?”

  “He's a terrorist masquerading as a businessman, and as slick as they come,” Rob told her. “He works for the North Koreans. No one can touch him. Interpol's been trying for years, but every time they come close, he slips away. He went to school at Oxford, apparently, and is smarter than your average radical.”

  “You think he's the one behind my hacking ring?” Stephanie asked, glancing at him sharply.

  “I don't know,” Rob shrugged, “but he was spotted in New York over the weekend. Seems a little suspicious, don't you think?”

  “More than a little,” Stephanie agreed.

  “I'll send you what information
I have,” Rob told her and turned back to his laptop. Stephanie turned to leave the office, but his next words made her pause. “Tread carefully, Ms. Walker. If Moon is behind your hacking ring, what you do will have international consequences.”

  Lowell Kwan glanced at his phone when it beeped a warning at him. Picking it up, he swiped the screen and opened the tracking software blinking in his notifications bar. He frowned when he saw the purple tracker flashing and moving away from the Mt. Laurel Campus.

  “Where are you going?” he murmured softly.

  Opening up his laptop bag, he pulled out an electronic tablet. A minute later, he was looking at a larger version of the tracking software. The purple dot was moving across a map grid, out of Mt. Laurel and heading south.

  Lowell watched it thoughtfully for a moment. He had hacked into the GPS systems in Angela Bolan's car and phone, inserting a tracking virus while she was sitting at his desk changing all her passwords the night before. He let her go yesterday after he captured her network credentials, but he had her on a short leash. Angela Bolan was a liability he couldn't let get too far away from him. Really, if the truth were told, he should have taken care of her last night after he got what he needed from her. However, at the last minute, he decided she still might prove useful. After making sure he would be able to keep an eye on her, he let her go.

  When the tracking dot kept moving out of Mt. Laurel, he got up and picked up his keys. She was venturing a little too far for just a lunch run. Grabbing the tablet and phone, he turned to leave his cubicle.

  Alina glanced at her watch and disappeared into her walk-in closet. Raven watched from his perch in the corner of her bedroom as she emerged a minute later, pulling a black V-neck sweater over her head. Glancing up, she found him watching her with his shiny black eyes and she smiled.

  “We're going to have company in a minute,” she told him. “Angela is worried about something. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't scare her when she gets here.”

  Raven tilted his head slightly to the side and blinked.

  Alina sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots. She had left Jessica in a hotel suite in Delaware with strict instructions not to make any phone calls or leave the room. Jessica had handed over her cell phone and electronic tablet reluctantly after Viper ruthlessly informed her both could be tracked by the Cartel. After assuring her that she would contact her husband for her, Viper left with the promise that she would return that evening to move her to a more secure location.

  A loud beep echoed through the house, pulling Alina out of her thoughts. She glanced at the plasma screen on the wall and saw the front driveway quadrant flashing on the security monitor. Angela was pulling into the driveway. Alina looked at Raven.

  “Remember,” she murmured, “behave.”

  Raven turned his head toward the skylight and stretched. A moment later, he disappeared out the opening and onto the roof. Alina grinned. Standing, she headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

  Striding down the hallway toward the back of the house, Alina picked up the remote from the bar and clicked the plasma above the fireplace off. She opened her laptop, turned off the security perimeter and closed it, going to the sliding back door just as Angela pulled her BMW around the house and stopped in front of the garage. She parked and got out of the car, turning toward the house. Sliding the door open, Alina stepped out onto the deck and Angela waved. She was carrying a large white take-out bag in one hand and her purse was slung over her shoulder.

  “I hope you have water,” she called. “I forgot to get soda.”

  “Of course.” Alina waited until Angela had reached the deck to answer. “Come on in.”

  Alina turned to lead the way into the house. As she did, Raven dropped off the roof at the other end of the deck and landed softly on the banister. His black eyes seemed to study Angela.

  “Is he getting used to me?” Angela demanded, looking down the length of the deck to the hawk. “He usually tries to buzz my head.”

  “I think he's just behaving himself today,” Alina murmured, glancing at her pet. She winked at him and he bobbed his head.

  “Well, I'll take it,” Angela said and followed her into the house. “I heard he won't even let John up on the deck anymore.”

  “No.” Alina grinned suddenly. “The last time John tried to come to the back door, he almost lost an eye.”

  “I can't say I blame Raven,” Angela muttered. “John's an ass.”

  “That I won't deny,” Alina said with a laugh.

  She went into the kitchen and pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge while Angela set the large bag on the bar. She pulled out two containers filled with salad.

  “I got grilled chicken Caesar,” Angela announced, setting them on the bar.

  “That's fine,” Alina said, handing her a bottle of water. She opened a drawer and pulled out two forks, handing one to Angela as she rounded the bar. “Thanks for bringing lunch.”

  “Thanks for having me,” Angela replied, sitting on a bar stool and lifting the clear plastic lid off her salad. “I need to talk to someone.”

  Alina sat next to her and took the lid off her salad.

  “About?” she prompted when Angela didn't continue. She glanced at her friend to find her picking through her salad absently.

  “I think I'm in trouble,” Angela finally said slowly.

  Alina's eyes narrowed slightly and she shot her friend a look from under her lashes.

  “You think?” she repeated. “Or you know?”

  “I know,” Angela said positively.

  Alina ate her salad, patiently waiting for Angie to elaborate. Angela's hands were trembling slightly as she picked at her lunch. What on earth had she been up to now? With Angela, it was always something.

  “How's the physical therapy going?” Alina finally asked when Angela made no attempt to continue talking.

  “Ok,” Angela said. “I only go once a month now. The scar isn't as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “I'm telling you, get a tattoo around it.” Alina set down her fork and opened her water. “It'll look hot.”

  “Like what?” Angela demanded with a laugh.

  “A bullseye,” Alina answered promptly, causing Angela to choke on a piece of lettuce.

  “Do you have any new tattoos?” Angela asked her.

  Alina hesitated. She had a tattoo once, but Angela knew that. They had all gone together about a year before she joined the Navy. When she went into training for the Organization, it had been removed. All identifying marks were removed from operatives. It was standard operating procedure.

  “No,” Lina said, setting her water down. “No, I never got another one.”

  “I thought all sailors got tattooed,” Angie said.

  Alina grinned.

  “Not this one,” she retorted.

  Her distraction worked. Angela's hands were steady again and some of the tension had gone out of her shoulders.

  “Maybe I will get a tattoo around the scar,” Angie said with a grin. “If nothing else, it would be a conversation starter.”

  “See? There's a bright side to everything.”

  “I'm going to be investigated by the FBI,” Angela blurted out.

  Alina glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Something happened at work,” Angela told her, setting down her fork and shifting in her seat so that she could face her. “Somehow, some guy I barely even knew used my network credentials to access the bank's mainframe. Now, he's dead and the FBI took all his computers. They're going to see that my network credentials logged into the mainframe from his hardware and they're going to think I did it!”

  Alina blinked and stared at Angela impassively.

  “That's inconvenient,” she murmured.

  Angela huffed and threw her hands up in the air.

  “That's all you have to say?” she exclaimed.

  “Ok.” Alina pushed her salad away and looked a
t her old friend. “Run it by me again, with a little more detail this time.”

  “Some guy I barely even knew...”

  “Name?”

  “What? Oh...Rodrigo. Rodrigo Frietas,” Angela told her.

  Alina's eyes narrowed sharply and Angela got her undivided attention.

  “Go on,” Viper said shortly.

  “Well, I barely knew the man. I knew him in passing, and he went out with a couple of us for happy hour once or twice. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes. I get it. You barely knew him,” Alina said dryly, picking up her water. She sipped it, her dark eyes watching Angela's face. “How do you know he accessed the mainframe with your credentials?”

  “I got a call from a guy in IT yesterday,” Angela explained. “He said he was going through Rodrigo's hardware, getting it ready for the FBI to pick up, when he saw some logs. He said my username and password were used to access the mainframe, causing a security breach.”

  “Did he say what Rodrigo did on the mainframe?” Alina asked.

  “No. He said that would take a lot of digging and the FBI would do that.” Angela realized she was clutching her fingers together tightly and forced herself to let go. “He had me go into the office last night and reset all my passwords to prevent any further damage.”

  “Why are the FBI taking the computers?” Alina asked, playing dumb.

  “Apparently, Rodrigo turned up dead yesterday,” Angela said. “Well, his head turned up, anyway.”

  “I'd say chances are good that he's dead, then,” Alina agreed, her lips twitching despite herself. “And you think the FBI is going to question you?”

  “Of course!” Angela exclaimed. “Lowell said they would be able to see the same logs he saw, showing them my credentials accessing the mainframe from Rodrigo's computers. He said there was no way he could erase them.”

  Alina was quiet for a moment, her mind working rapidly. Angela picked up her fork again and picked through her salad, glancing at Alina's face.

  “What are you thinking?” she finally asked.

  “You should tell Stephanie,” Alina answered absently, swirling the water in her bottle.