A Different Dawn (Nina Guerrera)

by Isabella Maldonado

  The bait. Meaning her.

  “Make it an hour,” Buxton said, closing that part of the discussion. “All of our plans have to be completed here, because when we get back to the hotel, we have to assume he’s monitoring us the moment we pass through the front doors.”

  A sobering thought. “We should lay the groundwork for the ruse tonight,” Nina said to him.

  Buxton nodded. “After we get upstairs, I’ll go to Guerrera’s room to tell her she’s off the case and order her back to DC in the morning.”

  “As we discussed previously, I’ll argue because I want to keep investigating,” Nina said. “And because nobody would believe it if I didn’t.”

  A ghost of a smile played across Buxton’s lips. “After I leave the room, you can talk smack about me to Breck. Tell her how much you want to stay on the case. That will help sell the idea that a call from a CI would be something you would jump at for an excuse to stay involved.”

  Breck pursed her lips. “Creeps me out that Forge will be listening—and maybe watching—while we’re in our room.”

  “Try to act natural,” Nina said.

  Breck cocked her head to one side. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take a shower tonight?”

  Nina shrugged. “If there’s a pinhole camera in the bathroom, he’s already gotten an eyeful.”

  Breck reddened. “You would have to point that out.”

  Nina, distracted by her conversation with Breck, balked when a slender man wearing latex gloves approached her. “What are you doing with that thing?” She glared at a long white swab in his hand.

  Buxton answered before the man could respond. “He’s here at my request, Agent Guerrera.” He motioned for the man to continue. “He’s taking a buccal swab for processing at the lab.”

  She may have forgotten about Buxton’s order to submit her DNA for comparison with the Vega family, but her supervisor had not. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and allowed the tech to scrape the inside of her cheek with the plastic tube.

  Buxton made a point of watching the proceedings. “We might be in the middle of planning a tactical operation, but we still need answers.”

  Unfortunately, she already knew what the answer to this particular question would be.

  Chapter 52

  At precisely eight o’clock the next morning, Nina sat alone at her hotel room’s desk under the glow of the lamp with the listening device. The rest of the team had departed for the FBI’s Phoenix field office building thirty minutes earlier. Her phone vibrated with a call. Showtime.

  She tapped the icon to put the call on speaker. “Guerrera.”

  Perez’s voice came out clearly. “Hola, Agent Guerrera, it’s me.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Pablo,” Perez said, flavoring his speech with a Mexican accent. “You remember the last time you were in Phoenix and I gave you that info? I kept your number.”

  “How do you even know I’m in town?”

  “I watch the news. You’re here on that Llorona case.”

  Nina stuck to the script. “Listen, Pablo, I don’t have time to talk. I’m leaving for the airport soon.”

  “You’ll want to see me before you go.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I have information.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. This is serious shit. These guys are terrorists.”

  “I can have someone on my FBI team interview you.”

  “No. I only talk to you.”

  “Pablo, my flight leaves in three hours.”

  “Plenty of time to meet me first. There’s an industrial park near Sky Harbor Airport. Come and hear me out. If you don’t think it’s legit, you can catch your flight.”

  Nina let out a theatrical sigh. “Okay . . . where and when?”

  “There’s a warehouse at the corner of Jasper and Arroyo Streets. Nobody’s around in the mornings. I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  “I’ll be there, but I can’t stay long.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Perez said and disconnected.

  Chapter 53

  Forty minutes after her phone call with Perez, Nina rolled her small suitcase down the sidewalk next to the hotel to avoid the taxi stand. The Phoenix police had scrounged up an impounded yellow cab for Agent Ginsberg from the FBI field office to drive her to the meeting location. She spotted him waiting by the curb on Second Street and hopped inside, tossing her bag on the seat beside her.

  “There’s a bottle of water in the cooler if you want any.” Ginsberg’s eyes met hers in the rearview. “I always come prepared.”

  She nodded and provided the response that would confirm everything was a go. “Nothing like Phoenix heat to make you thirsty.”

  They had agreed to the wording of the exchange last night at the ops-planning meeting, operating under strict countersurveillance protocols until verifying they could speak freely.

  Nina bent to open the cooler and pulled out a black device the size of a deck of cards and switched it on. Breck had shown her how to use the signal detector at the briefing. Since Forge had gotten inside their hotel room, he might have planted listening devices, trackers, and cameras in her luggage or tactical gear as well.

  She discreetly passed the scanner over her bag and clothing, getting a response only when she got near the back of Ginsberg’s head.

  He tapped his ear. “I’m off now.”

  The beeping stopped. She gave Ginsberg a nod. “We’re clear.”

  He tapped his ear to switch his transmitter back on. “We’re clear,” he repeated for the team’s benefit, then turned to her. “We installed dark tint on the cab’s side and back windows early this morning. Go ahead and mic up.”

  As Ginsberg turned south onto Seventh Street, threading the taxi through light traffic, she fished out the zippered bag Harper had given her last night.

  “Did everything go okay?” Ginsberg wanted to know.

  She hadn’t put on her audio equipment but knew Ginsberg was asking on behalf of everyone listening on the com system. In operational terms, she’d been “dark” since the team had left the hotel an hour earlier, and the others would be anxious to hear how her end of the phone call with Perez had gone.

  “Pablo came through loud and clear.” She spoke with enough volume for Ginsberg’s equipment to pick up her voice. “We’re good to go.”

  After her well-rehearsed conversation with Perez, she had gone through an equally well-rehearsed performance when she left the hotel. In case Forge was somehow observing, she wanted to appear as if the phone call had suddenly altered her plans. There would be no other reason for her to change into operational attire.

  She had rolled her suitcase through the lobby decked out in black BDUs, a black T-shirt, and a webbed belt with a pancake holster. A Glock semiautomatic, a ballistic vest, and black tactical boots completed the ensemble.

  Nina pushed in the earpiece and activated it. “Mic check.”

  Buxton’s deep voice resonated. “I copy, Agent Guerrera.”

  “I copy, too, sir.”

  “Good. We’re already in position. From this point forward, we’ll use our com system.”

  Ginsberg drove in silence as she listened to chatter from various members of the tactical and surveillance teams. As they coordinated last-minute position adjustments, Nina recalled Perez explaining how the media used scanners to listen to police-radio traffic. Forge was adept with electronics. Could he do the same?

  “He can’t intercept our transmissions, can he?” she asked no one in particular.

  “We’re on a secure channel.” She recognized Harper’s voice in her earpiece. “And it’s scrambled.”

  Relieved, yet wary, she continued to listen as they approached the industrial park. Ginsberg pulled to a stop at the deserted intersection where Perez, a.k.a. Pablo, had told her they would meet.

  She got out, walked to the corner of the building she had seen in photographs duri
ng the briefing the night before, and spoke in a low tone. “I’m in position.”

  “We’ve got eyes on you,” Harper said. “What do you see?”

  She continued to speak softly, avoiding moving her lips in case Forge had a visual on her. “No movement. No vehicle in the vicinity, but he could have parked somewhere nearby and come on foot, or he could have hailed a cab.”

  “Okay, keep me apprised of any developments.”

  “Copy that.”

  She ambled around, periodically gazing down the street as if looking for Pablo to arrive. As she glanced around, she tried to spot any sign of FBI or PPD tactical operators. They had done an excellent job—the street appeared deserted. If Forge was watching, he wouldn’t see any obvious signs of law enforcement presence.

  Fifteen minutes went by. She pretended to scratch her nose, covering the movement of her mouth as she spoke. “Maybe he’s waiting to see if my CI shows up.”

  Perez responded immediately. “I’ll head your way.”

  “No.” She did not want the detective exposed to danger. “Let’s give it more time. If he sends up a drone, I want him to see me alone.”

  She paced back and forth, doubt filling her mind. Where the hell was Clay Forge?

  Chapter 54

  Forge stepped on the gas as he turned into the residential area in Central Phoenix. He shook his head in disgust. It had all been a setup. Did they think they were dealing with an amateur? Did they believe hiding in the shadows a few blocks down the street would be enough to evade detection?

  When he had listened in on Nina Guerrera’s phone call, he had prepared a drone to do a flyover of the meeting area. He’d hesitated because it was close to the airport. People tended to call in complaints about drones near flight paths, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

  Then he remembered.

  Jexton had the security contract for one of the buildings in the sprawling industrial complex adjacent to Sky Harbor. He pulled out the special laptop he had taken from his house and accessed the portal that had served him so well over the years. The portal that gave him backdoor access to Jexton’s extensive database and the ability to remotely manipulate its systems.

  In less than thirteen minutes, he was maneuvering roof-mounted security cameras close to the intersection where she was supposed to be waiting. He had seen SWAT vehicles vomiting out teams of men wearing tactical black, talking into earpieces. That was all he needed to know. Now he would turn the tables on all of them.

  He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock in the morning. She should be up by now. He rang the doorbell and heard shuffling feet inside the house.

  The intercom buzzed on. “Who’s there?”

  He raised the brown-wrapped parcel toward the lens, using it to obscure his face. “Delivery for Selena Fernandez.” He made a show of glancing down at the side of the box. “There’s a note on the side that says it’s a belated baby shower gift.”

  The door opened and a very pregnant woman peered out at him. “Who’s it from?”

  He provided the one name certain to gain her trust. “Teresa Soto.”

  “Why would my mother send me another gift for the baby?”

  He shrugged. “You have to sign for it.” He held up his phone, turning the screen sideways to display an empty signature line with her name in block lettering underneath it.

  She heaved a sigh, shooed the cat from the doorway, and waddled outside, closing it behind her to prevent the little beast from escaping.

  They were alone in the secluded courtyard. He knew her husband was at work. She was all alone. Vulnerable. A fat, juicy worm for his hook.

  Nina Guerrera had laid a trap for him. Now she would be the one to fall into his. The difference was that his snare would prove deadly.

  Time for phase three. The final phase.

  Chapter 55

  Nina did not want to admit defeat. Nearly an hour had passed, and she could only conclude that Forge either hadn’t taken the bait or hadn’t overheard the phone call.

  “He’s not coming,” Buxton said into her earpiece. “Let’s pack up and regroup.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Another five minutes.”

  This time it was the HRT leader who spoke through the com system. “You said that fifteen minutes ago. And thirty minutes before that.” Exasperation sharpened his tone. “The operation has been compromised. I’m calling it.”

  Buxton convened a quick debrief at the command post they had set up inside a city-owned building down the street. After going over the morning’s events, both SWAT teams loaded their gear and departed for their respective bases, leaving the FBI team and Perez to figure out their next steps.

  “This is on me,” Nina told them. “I take full responsibility. We’ll have to wait for another opportunity to find Forge.”

  Buxton shifted uncomfortably. “That’s no longer your concern, Agent Guerrera.”

  She stilled. “What do you mean?”

  “I received a phone call from the lab a few minutes ago,” Buxton said quietly.

  All eyes turned to her. Knowing the results of her DNA comparison in advance didn’t make it any easier to hear her boss relay the news.

  “You are the biological child of Victor and Maria Vega,” Buxton said. “You cannot work this case anymore. As I said before, you need to go back to Washington.”

  The analytical part of her understood the reasoning, but the emotional side railed against the injustice of it. “Sir, I can still help. I’ll stay at the PFO and—”

  Buxton held up a hand. “This is not up for debate. You are to report to the hotel and wait. There’s a flight leaving for Dulles Airport in four hours. You will be on it.”

  “Sir, I’d like the opportunity to confirm the news reports for my . . . families.”

  “I understand, Agent Guerrera, but your life is in jeopardy. For your own safety, as well as for the integrity of the investigation, you cannot visit any of your relatives until Mr. Forge is in custody.” He rested a hand on her shoulder in a rare display of emotion. “I’ll notify them personally. Without alarming them about your situation, I’ll explain that you will be able to visit them soon.”

  She had wanted to be the one to tell them. And to explain. Now even that would be taken from her.

  Buxton removed his hand. “The rest of us will head to the command center while Agent Kent drives you back to the hotel. You can grab a bite at the bistro there and make sure you didn’t leave anything in your room when you packed earlier.” A look passed between her supervisor and Kent. “He’ll take you to the airport and see you onto the plane.”

  As she had suspected, Kent had been assigned bodyguard duty. She bristled but held her tongue.

  “Speaking of the hotel,” Breck said, “what about the bug in our room?”

  “Leave it there,” Buxton said. “We aren’t sure why Forge didn’t show. We may still be able to use the device to lure him out of hiding.”

  After transferring her suitcase from the cab to the Suburban, Nina rode back to the Phoenix Royal Suites with Kent in relative silence. They both tried to make small talk, giving up after each successive attempt at conversation fizzled.

  They got out after Kent parked in the side lot, and Nina walked toward the back of the SUV. She had packed all her belongings to keep up the ruse in case Forge had been watching, and now she was conveniently prepared to leave town.

  “Forge is probably halfway to California by now,” she said to Kent. “I’m the last thing on his mind. I can take my bag into the hotel so you can get back to work with the rest of the team. I’ll catch a cab to the airport in a couple of hours.”

  “You’re not getting rid of me, Guerrera.”

  Resigned to the situation, she left her suitcase in the vehicle and walked to the hotel’s main entrance.

  “You hungry?” Kent asked when they were inside the expansive lobby. “We can eat at the bistro on the mezzanine level.”

  Before she could respond, someone
spoke from behind her.

  “Excuse me, are you Agent Guerrera with the FBI?”

  Nina turned to see a bellman. He looked young, maybe early twenties. His red-and-gray uniform hung from his bony frame.

  “I am,” Nina said.

  He eyed Kent warily. “Can I speak to you alone?”

  “No.” Kent drew closer to her. “You cannot.”

  “This is Special Agent Kent,” she told the bellman. “Whatever you have to say, he can hear too.”

  With evident reluctance, the young man pulled a silver cell phone from his pocket. “A guy handed me a hundred dollars and told me to give this to you.”

  She reached for it, but Kent stayed her hand. “What guy?” he said. “When?”

  The kid looked like he was ready to bolt. “I don’t know the guy. It was about an hour ago. He told me to hang around the lobby and watch out for you. Said if you showed up, I should give you the phone and tell you to hit speed dial number one.”

  She pulled her arm free of Kent’s grasp and took the phone. “What did the man look like?”

  The bellman shrugged. “White, about fifty. I don’t know. Just a regular guy.”

  Kent narrowed his eyes. “Has he been paying you to keep tabs on us?”

  The bellman’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed audibly. “N-no, sir.”

  While Kent was busy scaring the crap out of the kid, Nina examined the cell. There was no screen lock.

  “What are you doing, Guerrera?” Kent turned away from the bellman. “That thing could be programmed to explode. We should call EOD.”

  “He didn’t leave a package for me,” she said, pivoting away as he grabbed for the phone. “He left me a communication device. That means he wants to talk. If he had wanted to kill me right now, he would have already done it.”

  Kent stopped trying to take the phone from her. Heart pounding, she opened the screen and pressed number one on the keypad, activating the speed dial feature. The call connected almost instantly.

  Nina put the phone to her ear. “Who is this?”

  A slight pause. “This is Clay Forge, Agent Guerrera. I have something that might interest you.”