“First, you tell me what the hell you’re doing here? How the hell did you find us?”
“I’m in the FBI, remember,” Franker said. “It’s what I do.”
“Come on,” Wolf said. “You bring Bureau boys with you?”
Franker shook his head. “I ran the flight manifests for your names, which gave me the destination. Then I did a credit check to pinpoint the hotel. Now it’s your turn and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Wolf studied the man. Involvement of the Bureau at this point would definitely make things worse. Right now, Wolf and company were operating under a different set of rules of engagement, as Dirk had said. They’d already technically committed more than a few illegal acts. That wasn’t something that a straight, by-the-book federal agent could tolerate. Not to mention lying to the FBI was what put him on thin ice before.
“Look,” Wolf said. “There are things going on down here that you can’t be a part of. Rules are getting stretched. The situation is—”
“Bullshit,” Franker said. “Tell me, and tell me now, or I swear I’ll knock your fucking head off.”
Wolf felt like saying that the guy didn’t look like he could break an egg, but his raw emotion was obvious.
It looks like love, Wolf thought.
“All right,” Wolf said. “But first, you got to tell me. Are we on the record here?”
Franker frowned. His head shook slightly.
“I checked myself out of the hospital,” he said. “Took emergency medical leave from the Bureau. I knew when you were stonewalling me that something had happened to Kasey. And it was my fault. I should have been able to protect her.” He stopped talking and his lips compressed inward. Tears glistened in his eyes and his head bowed. “It was my fault. I should’ve done more.”
“You did all you could,” Wolf said. “These guys are pros, and they came at your blindside. No way you could’ve prevented it without dying in the process.”
Franker looked up at him, the tears more noticeable now.
“I’m ready to do that,” he said. “If that’s what it takes. I want to help get her back. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
And so Wolf did. A slight change in his plans had Franker teaming with Reno in the third car holding the bandito.
One guy with a bum leg, Wolf thought, and the other with an arm in a sling and a condition of the heart. Crunch time.
He felt a copious amount of sweat running down his sides from his armpits. He wondered if it was due to the lack of air-conditioning inside the bus or the pending raid. Brenda was beside him, her dark hair pulled back and pinned up inside a confining piece of multicolored cloth. The moisture had collected on Brenda’s upper lip and neck as well, but she still looked elegant. Everyone had a mask either in their laps or dangling from one ear but nobody had them on at this point, except Wolf. The chatter in low murmurs of rapid Spanish buzzed through the other workers. Wolf wondered if it was about him or Brenda and strained his ears to try and catch some discernible phrases. From what he could gather, the two llegados seemed to attract little notice. Their confederate, a heavyset woman named Rosa, had been paid off quite handsomely for getting them on the bus and was making more money than she would in a year doing the grunge work for Von Dien.
Wolf resisted the temptation to speak to Brenda. They’d decided to sit next to each other but not to say anything that could indicate familiarity. He’d hoped to talk to her before they’d gotten on the bus back in the Guatemalan section. Wolf had wanted to ask her about Yolanda. Her previous comment about Dolores Delgato, along with Ms. Dolly’s quip, had given him a flicker of hope that maybe there was still a chance for the two of them after all. But, he’d pushed all thoughts about that possibility out of his present state of mind. There’d be time enough for that kind of speculation once this mission was completed, once Kasey was safe.
It had been the same during his deployments. Thinking about home, about sweethearts left behind as they got ready to climb in a Humvee or go into the ville and start kicking down doors.
You always wonder about who you left behind, he thought, and looked out the window to catch his first glimpse of the Von Dien Estate. They were approaching a large gate that was fastened between two stone pillars. Big signs were attached to the gate that spelled out warnings in both English and Spanish about not trespassing or touching the fence.
Electrified fencing, Wolf thought. Just like Reno had advised.
He used his thumb to send Mac the message that they were approaching the gate, then slipped the phone into his pocket. The revolver was pinching his groin at the moment, secured by a Neoprene belly band.
No tough guy in the world’s gonna search me there, he thought.
It was a funny but true line from an old movie that he’d seen. He couldn’t recall the name of it, but he remembered it had brought a laugh.
The bus’s brakes squealed to a halt and the gate slowly slid open. Two uniformed guards, both wearing holstered side-arms, waddled up to the bus and the driver hit the lever opening the door.
“Las tempaturas,” one of the guards said, holding up one of those gun-like thermometers.
Wolf wondered if the ambient heat and humidity would affect his reading.
The guard with the thermometer began the checks. The bus was pretty full and the process took several minutes. When the guard got to Brenda and him the man’s eyes widened and a smile stretched his lips.
“No te veía antes,” he said as he held the gauge in front of her face and pressed the trigger. “Muy bonita. Cual es tu nombre?”
Brenda said nothing.
The guard took a few more seconds to admire her, then looked at the reading and said, “Trenta y seite. Pero eres muy caliente.”
“No molestala,” Rosa said in a sounding harsh tone. “Eres mi sobrina. Es casado y esta embarazada.”
Married and pregnant, Wolf thought as he watched the guard recoil slightly. I’m going to have to tip Rosa another twenty once this is all over.
If they got out of it.
The guard murmured an apology and flicked the device at Wolf. He then did a cursory job on the rest of those in the back of the bus.
After finishing he walked back up the aisle to the front, turned, and announced in a loud voice, “No olvídense las mascaras.”
He and the other guard stepped off the bus and the driver closed the door.
As the bus rolled forward Wolf glanced out the window. The guards were standing off to the side smoking with the gate standing open. Maybe the lazy bastards were going to leave it open for the bus’s return trip out with the night shift.
It would be nice if we could hitch a ride on it, Wolf thought. With Kasey.
He whispered this to Brenda, who nodded.
The roadway wound past an expansive green lawn, punctuated by artfully trimmed bushes and artistic flower gardens. There was enough yard work here to keep a lot of gardeners busy. Then he saw the mansion. Reno had said it was big, and the satellite views that they’d gotten from the Internet hadn’t done it justice.
It was two stories of solid red brick spreading out on either side of a triangular peak in the roof that was braced by four huge, white pillars. A massive fountain bubbled water from a stone statue in front of them. Sets of twin windows with gables were on both sides of the triangular peak and Wolf noticed that one of them had bars. According to Rosa, that’s where la mujer americana was being kept under lock and key.
He nudged Brenda slightly and she made a fractional nod of acknowledgment.
The plan was for her to go in with the rest of the housekeeping staff as soon as they debarked from the bus. The men were mostly assigned to do the yard work, but Wolf intended to break off from them as quickly as he could. Brenda would text him when she was at the rear door so she could admit him. From there, they’d make their way upstairs with Brenda carrying a sack with a dress for Kasey to put on, along with a rag and black wig to cover her red hair, once they got into the room. It depen
ded if there was a posted guard or not. Rosa had said there was, but since the door was locked and the room was on the second floor with barred windows, the guards were not very diligent unless Gordo, Von Dien’s mayordomo, was around. According to Rosa, he was a bit of an overbearing bully and carried a gun. She also mentioned that there were a couple of Americans staying there as well. One was an abogado, a lawyer, who’d been there for months. The other was a thin, surly man who treated the women, the prostitutes they brought in, very badly. He’d even manhandled some of the prettier servants from time to time.
That has to be Soraces, Wolf remembered thinking.
One of his regrets was that he wouldn’t be able to settle the score with that asshole.
Keep your eye on the ball, Bambi, he told himself. Worry about evening things up later. Much later, when Kasey’s safe.
The bus pulled past the four pillars and eventually came to a stop at the edge of the big structure.
The servant’s entrance.
Everyone stood up and began putting on their masks as they shuffled toward the door. The pervasive scent of body odor hung in the air. Everybody seemed to be sweating as much as he was.
As he stepped off the bus, the bubbling noise of the fountain was audible. One of the security guards shouted for everyone to keep moving, men this way, women that way. He and Brenda split up and she headed for the house. He followed the group of men who kept moving toward a section of smaller brick row houses in the back. Glancing around, Wolf searched for the security guard who’d been directing them and saw that he was with the women, talking and laughing. As the group of men continued their march, Wolf slowed his pace until he was the very last in line. As they veered off to go to the row houses, he darted between one of the bigger trees and a stone statue of a man holding a flute with misshapen goat-like legs.
A satyr, Wolf assumed remembering Pan from his lesson in mythology.
A trio of massive, humming air-conditioning units and a generator were next to the house and Wolf moved there next, darting between the huge metallic cylinders and the brick wall. He had to step over the series of hoses that ran from the machines to the edifice.
He crouched down and waited. The procession of workers continued toward their destination. No one seemed to have taken notice of him.
Just like escape and evasion training in the army, he thought.
It was easy going so far.
Almost too easy.
After doing a few quick peeks he straightened up and moved with steady, but not rapid assurance toward the corner of the building. He walked rather than ran, figuring that a running man might attract undue attention.
His cellphone vibrated in his pocket and he glanced down. A text from Brenda: At door
When he got there, he saw it was ajar. He pulled it open slightly and slipped inside. The coolness of the air was almost chilling, but it served to stimulate him a bit. The room was a large kitchen storage area. Rows of utensils hung on holders on a stainless-steel counter along with pots and pans and several stoves and refrigerators. Brenda was standing there with the sack of clothes. She slipped her phone into her pocket and pulled her mask away from her face.
“We can go through there,” she said, pointing to a door on the other side of the room. “There’s another room and then the stairway’s beyond it. I’ll go first, text you if it’s clear. Remember to keep your mask on.”
She adjusted hers back into place and they went to the door. Brenda pulled it open and slipped through. Wolf kept it open a sliver and watched her progress. The room she’d entered appeared to be some kind of museum room or something.
The text chimed: Venga.
Wolf slipped into the room and saw her exiting at the far end. He quickly followed.
It was the size of a banquet hall and filled with paintings, statues, and a huge glass case. Something caught his eye: one of the figurines on a top shelf. It was a fancily chiseled half-circle of stone with a familiar, intricate design. Inside the hollowed-out portion, the creamy lining had two smaller, intricately carved black onyx figures of a man and a big jungle cat, a lion, but this rendering of the big cat had no mane.
A lioness, Wolf thought, attacking a Nubian. My portion’s other half.
Another text came: Clear
Brenda was mixing Spanish and English, he thought. She must be nervous.
They were supposed to use only Spanish as part of the masquerade.
Wolf walked out, scanning for people, and then looking toward the ceiling.
His heart froze.
The black plastic globe of a pan-tilt-and-zoom camera was mounted on a bracket on the far wall.
If someone was monitoring the surveillance system, it was only a matter of time before they spotted him, and Brenda as well.
Crunch time exacerbated, he thought. Better to keep moving than be spotted sneaking and hiding.
If someone did pick him up on camera he wanted to appear as legitimate as he could. He reached down and picked up a small decorative table. Carrying it in front of him, he continued through the dining room and into a long hallway. At the stairway Brenda caught sight of him and stopped.
“Qué pasas aqui?” she asked, staying in character and speaking in Spanish.
“Las cámaras,” Wolf said. “En el cielo.”
Her astuteness and street smarts showed when she just smiled and nodded and didn’t look around.
“Venga con migo,” she said, and headed up the stairs. Come with me, in case someone was listening.
Wolf followed carrying the table like a dutiful assistant to la criada bonita. Hopefully, if anyone had picked them up on surveillance it would look like he was doing something for her.
They made it up the long staircase with no problem. Wolf noticed a black metallic rail on the wall side with a carrying car at the top.
Von Dien must have an aversion to stairs, he thought.
He wondered about his faceless foe. No pictures existed of the man that Wolf could find, other than some from thirty years ago. Those showed a pear-shaped man with a huge head and perpetual scowl.
Ironic, Wolf thought. That somebody born into such riches couldn’t find something to smile about.
Brenda continued up the stairs and turned left at the landing, looking like she knew exactly where she was going. Wolf followed trying to adopt a desultory posture—the bored, obedient drudge.
Just another lackey carrying furniture up the stairs … Hopefully, whoever was watching would see it that way. He immediately looked up and scanned the area. PTZ’s were at both ends of the upstairs hallway.
Brenda turned left and headed down the hallway. Wolf did the same. To his surprise an empty chair sat next to the solid-looking door at the end of the hall, but no guard.
That could mean a lot of things, he thought. It’s shift change, for one thing.
Or maybe the guy was off getting something to eat or going to the bathroom.
They went down the hallway at a brisk pace and Brenda stopped and tried the knob. It made a clicking sound that told them it was locked. Wolf was estimating the chances of taking it out quickly and quietly with one or two kicks and decided that it would be very problematic, not to mention noisy. Instead, he set the box on the chair and took out his knife. The hinges were on this side, which meant that the door opened outward. The easiest way, not to mention the quietest, would be to remove them.
“Steve, mira,” Brenda said.
A key hung on a hook next to the door jamb.
It makes sense, he told himself, not wanting to believe it, yet it made sense. If the guard or someone had to open the door in an emergency, they would want to be able to do so quickly.
Yeah, he thought. Easy. Almost too easy.
His worry-quotient elevated, but he grabbed the key and shoved it into the lock. It twisted and the sound of a deadbolt sliding out of the jamb was evident.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside whispering, “Kasey?”
She came at him fists raise
d and he reacted quickly enough to grab her, then her eyes widened, and her head jerked with recognition.
“Steve, what?” she said.
She was wearing an orange cotton jumpsuit and no shoes. Her hair looked flat and greasy; her face devoid of make-up.
“Never mind that,” he said, choosing his words carefully. In his mind, he’d rehearsed what to say and how he might communicate the urgency of the situation. “We’re here to get you out. Take that orange thing off and put this on.” He motioned to Brenda who opened the cloth sack and handed her the dress.
“They took everything,” Kasey said, grabbing the garment. Even my shoes.”
She unzipped the jumpsuit and yanked it off. Wolf saw that she had nothing on under it. She turned away from him and stepped into the dress they’d brought.
“Here,” Brenda said, stepping over to help her zip up the back. “We’ve got a wig to cover your hair. And tie it on with this scarf.”
“Is Bill all right?” Kasey asked. “They shot him.”
“He’s fine,” Wolf said. “And he’s here. I’m going to text your dad to get ready to pick us up out front. But, we’ll still have to run the gauntlet to the front gate.”
He took out his phone and typed in, popping smoke.
“I don’t know the grounds at all,” Kasey said. “They’ve kept me locked up in here the whole time. They brought in a bucket so I could go to the—”
She stopped but Wolf got the idea. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“Bastards,” he muttered and peeled away the Velcro to pull out the gun. “Come on. Let’s move.”
Kasey tucked her hair under the sheaf of black hair and Brenda helped her tie the scarf around it. Wolf went to the door and pulled it open a sliver. The hallway was still empty.
With a little luck, he thought, we can make it out of here.
“There’s cameras everywhere,” he said in a low whisper. “Walk fast but don’t run. We don’t want them to see anything out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, right,” Kasey said with a sarcastic lilt to her voice. “Like the three of us walking down the hallway isn’t out of the ordinary?”
Devil's Advocate (Trackdown Book 4) Page 27
