He turned, and glanced into clear, calm green eyes that imparted the thought that if he didn’t fight the sticky, burning tendrils that were pulling him further and further into hell, they’d yank him to a depth from which there’d be no escape.
It was a place he wouldn’t be able to help Ana.
“Zeus,” she said. “Breathe. Slowly. One. Two. Three. Now hold it.”
He knew she was trying to help him, but he couldn’t focus. So much fear infected his brain that there was no room for Sam’s urgent words, or any action to take from them.
“Come on, Zeus. Just like you taught me to do. Give me a deep breath in.” She was kneeling on the floor, her hands on a portable oxygen mask that she was trying to put in his hand. He had no memory of sitting, but he was on his ass, between the A seat and the door that led to the cockpit. His back was against the door of the jet.
Staring into her eyes, he inhaled.
“Good. Hold it. One—Two—Three—Hold it. Now exhale. Slowly.”
His left hand felt like mush, as though he’d pounded it against a steel wall.
“You’re going to find her. But first you have to think. Take this, put it on, and breathe. Inhale. Make it deep.”
He focused on the strength in Sam’s eyes. Unlike his agents, Sam gave him a solid, steady gaze that told him she had faith he was someone who could right this horrific wrong. He took the oxygen mask, placed it over his nose and mouth, drew a breath, and tried to make it deep.
She nodded. “Good. One—Two—Three—Hold it. Now exhale. Slowly.”
Her gaze locked on his. Her hands squeezed his forearms.
“Stay with me, Zeus. We’ll be in Miami in three hours. Or we’ll go wherever there are leads. You need to be able to think. You’ve got an entire company scrambling to find her right now, along with law enforcement. Black Raven is the best, and you’re the best of the best.” Her eyes told him she believed what she was saying. “Breathe. Okay?”
Ana. Unimaginable. Gone. Ana. Taken.
“Breathe. Come on. Inhale with me. Purse your lips, breathe in deep. One—Two—Three—Hold it.”
She was using the calming technique he’d used with her in Paris. It fucking scared the crap out of him to realize how badly he’d lost it, how badly he needed to get a grip, how badly he needed help so that he could…think. Rationally. He breathed with Sam, letting the oxygen fill his lungs.
“You’re smarter than whoever took her. By a long shot. You’re the smartest person I know, and I know a hell of a lot of smart people. Do you understand that?”
Firm conviction in her eyes told him she believed what she was saying. For that, he’d always love her. No matter who she married.
“One—Two—Three—Hold it. When you put your mind on a task, you achieve it. You need to focus, get the facts, and you will think of a way to rescue her. Now exhale.”
With each breath of oxygen-infused air, he was able to wrap the logic of his mind around the horror that had become his life. That he found solace in the strength of the woman who had broken his heart was just part of how off-kilter things were in his life.
“Okay, now breathe in again,” Sam said. “Long. Slow. One. Two. Hold it.”
He nodded, slowly finding his equilibrium, and glancing at Jenkins and Captain Canwell, who were standing right behind Sam. The captain held a full syringe in his right hand, needle exposed, his thumb on the business end of the plunger. Lorazepam. A serious dose that would’ve done the trick to calm down a wild stallion, or anyone in the throes of a full-fledged anxiety-induced rage. It was standard issue in Black Raven in-flight first aid kits, because Black Raven business came with serious fallout. Usually, though, it wasn’t the agents who needed the tranquilizer.
Moving the mask to the side for a second, he nodded to Canwell. “You can pack that up. I’m past the detour into oblivion. Won’t be beating the walls of the jet any longer.”
“We weren’t worried about the walls, sir,” Jenkins gestured with his chin to the door handle. “You were close to the door handle. Didn’t know if you were going to try to open the door and Superman it.”
As that sunk in, Zeus shut his eyes for a second, making a mental note that Black Raven had to better train agents—and himself—for this exact situation. The evil that was now pervasive in the world guaranteed that this type of situation would happen, again, to someone, somewhere, in relation to some job that had turned to shit.
“Can’t say any of us would have acted differently,” Jenkins added.
“Put the satellite phone feed on the intercom.” Mentally distancing himself from the feelings that came with being the father of a daughter in peril and forcing himself to think calmly about the situation, he took a few more oxygen-assisted breaths as he waited.
With Canwell’s nod, he put the mask to the side and let go of Sam’s hand, which he’d been holding, without realizing it, in a steely death grip. He stood, gave her his hand, and pulled her up, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her as he did. “Ragno?”
“Here.”
“Zeus. Sebastian here. I’m en route. Was working remotely near New Orleans. Wheels were up five minutes ago. One hour forty minutes away from landing in Miami. I’ll take the lead.” He drew a deep breath. “Won’t let you take the helm so don’t argue. Until I get there, Agent Blackwell is lead agent on the ground. He’s on the call.”
“Hello, sir. Standing by.”
Blackwell was second in command on the Ana/Theresa security detail. Zeus himself had approved the parameters of the detail, once they’d adjusted on Thursday to include Ana’s three-times a week, including Monday evening, dance classes.
On this Monday evening, at 1940 Eastern time, Zeus knew that Blackwell had been scheduled to be with Theresa, who’d had an evening of parent-teacher conferences planned at the school where she taught. The school where Ana went was also in Coconut Grove, just five blocks from Las Munequitas Dance Academy. Dance school was supposed to end at 1930, and from the dance school the team was supposed to take Ana to Theresa. From Theresa’s school the two vehicles were to convoy for the drive to Fisher Island, where Theresa and Ana lived. Their condo was in the same building as his. That way, when he was in town, Ana was free to pop in at any time, even on days that technically weren’t his days with her pursuant to the custody decree.
I’ll die without her.
Can’t think like that.
Agent Martel—Nanny Vick to Ana, so much like family she’d become simply Vick to Zeus—was first in command. Her absence from the call became deafening. “Vick?”
“Taken with Ana,” Sebastian responded in the matter-of-fact, calm tone that he used when on a high-stakes job.
“Theresa?”
“Safe,” Blackwell responded, tone low. “I’ve delivered the news, sir.”
“Where is she?” No one had to tell him how Theresa was reacting.
“Still at her job, where I am. She’s with friends, in the teacher’s lounge. My eyes are on her. MPD has patrols outside.”
“I’ll talk to her in a minute.”
“Hey, bro,” Gabe broke into the call. “I’m on the call from the airbase in Germany. Making strategic calls to local law enforcement at home.” Home being Miami, the place where Gabe and Zeus grew up, the place they knew like the back of their hands. The place where his daughter was supposed to be safe. “Putting out a Black Raven version of a fucking Amber alert. Should I head to Miami?”
“No. Assume you’re still heading into Praptan on Tuesday night. Whether or not Stollen gives us anything. If you find Maximov, I’m giving you the green light to torture the fucker until he tells you where we can find Ana.”
Because his gut was screaming that all of this—the ITT trial, Maximov, the abduction—was related.
“You’ll have her before then,” Gabe said.
Zeus drew a deep breath, hoping like hell Gabe was right. “What happened to the rest of Ana’s transport team?”
“From the team of four, two of them�
�Riggs and Looms—are dead,” Sebastian responded. “One—Sanchez—is critical. Bullet to the head. Alive, but unconscious.”
Fuck.
“Did we get any of them?”
“No. We’re thirty minutes out now.”
Zeus adjusted his watch to 2025. Current Miami time. He split-screened it to a stopwatch. “1955 was zero?”
“Yes. That was the time the distress call came out from the Range Rover transporting Ana, and the time Martel and Ana’s GPS went off grid.”
Drawing a deep breath, he managed to choke out, “Fucking GPS has been gone this entire time?”
“Yes,” Sebastian answered. “We’re dealing with pros, or damn smart amateurs who anticipated that Ana and her agents would be chipped and they knew how to effectively work jammers.”
Or they cut the chip out of them.
Don’t go there.
“Any leads at all?”
“Not yet. From what we can tell, it was an ambush at a stop sign. Narrow residential side streets of the Grove worked against us. No crime cameras on site.” Sebastian gave him the intersection.
It was three blocks out from the dance school, which itself was located in a small strip mall. Zeus knew the area well.
“I’m collecting crime camera footage from the area,” Ragno said. “However, other than the camera on our vehicle, there are no cameras within three blocks of the abduction site. Our cameras captured partials. Nothing solid.”
“Who is on scene?”
“MPD. Forensics and investigators. Area’s now shut down,” Sebastian answered. “Police Chief Manuello is there, communicating directly with Ragno and Denver through Gabe.” Manuello was an acquaintance of Zeus and a close friend of Gabe. “We had three teams working in the Miami area on other jobs. Three of our agents from those teams are now on scene. We’ve mobilized everyone at Last Resort. Twenty agents are on their way with combat choppers. Twenty-five more are on standby, ready to depart for parts unknown.”
“C130J?” As with other operations that went to hell, the Black Raven cargo plane that they kept stationed in Colorado, and the assortment of weapons and manpower provided reaction capabilities for whatever was thrown their way. He wanted every bit of firepower the plane was capable of carrying, because he was going to unleash it on the fuckers who dared to touch his daughter.
“Mobilizing. They’ll be in the air in ten minutes.”
Zeus drew a deep breath. “Blackwell, put Theresa on the line.”
He shut his eyes, bracing for her anguish. It came, with chokes and sobs and gasps for air. “Zeus, I’m sorry. You tried to tell me no. It was just dance school. She didn’t need to go. You were right. I’m sor—”
“Listen to me. Not your fault. Do you understand that? Theresa, we’ll find her,” he said, wishing he believed in a good outcome that went with those words. “She’ll be fine.”
He didn’t know that, either. What he believed was he was going to ultimately find whoever was responsible. When he did, he was going to kill them.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Miami, Florida
Tuesday, February 8
“I have a read from Martell’s chip,” Ragno said, her audio feed automatically going to Zeus, Sebastian, and team leaders in a Black Raven staging hangar, at a private airport in Miami, Florida.
Zeus marked the time. It was 0730, Eastern time. A day, so far, that had been sent straight from hell. The balmy, but cool, air in the hangar became electrified, as everyone who heard Ragno stopped midsentence, mid-stride, mid-whatever-the-fuck they were doing.
He and Sebastian had been looking at a large-screen monitor showing a map of South Florida and talking to MPD Chief Manuello, and Lieutenant Colonel Simeon from the Florida Highway Patrol. With each hour that passed without a lead, the geographic area of concern expanded. They were eleven hours, five minutes post abduction.
Law enforcement officials in the entire state of Florida, and points beyond, were on alert. Without even knowing what the needle looked like, they were sifting through a haystack for it, and more hay was being piled upon the stack with every passing minute.
“The chip is off the coast of Boca Raton. One mile off. Perhaps two.” Ragno read the longitude and latitude. “Agent Martel only. Not Ana. I repeat. I have a solid feed on Martel’s chip. Not Ana. Agents Michaels and Getty? Copy?”
Zeus knew Michaels and Getty were lead agents on teams positioned in the water. Given that Miami and the rest of South Florida was surrounded by water, and they had no leads pointing to an exit on any roadways, they’d anticipated the need for a maritime rescue.
“Michaels. Copy that. Sir? Awaiting instruction.”
“Getty. Ditto.”
“Standby,” Sebastian said. “Ragno, give me a map and nautical chart.” Working from Denver, Ragno switched the large screen monitor to a map highlighting the coastline. “Red x is the chip. Appears stationary. If she’s moving, she’s going no faster than the current.”
Shit! Stationary?
In the fucking water? As far north as Boca?
Hell, by now, the kidnappers could have gotten as far as the Bahamas. Easily.
“Swimming?” Zeus asked, his eyes fixated on the x. He tried hard not to humanize the x, at the same time he wondered where the hell Ana was.
“Perhaps.”
“Ragno,” Sebastian asked, “what are seas right now?”
“Three to fives. Larger swells coming from the North.”
In other words, high.
“Our teams in the water are here.” A Black Raven logo lit up on the map as Ragno worked from Denver. “That’s Agent Michaels. He’s off of Miami, near the Government Cut inlet.” Another Black Raven logo appeared on the map just south of Fort Lauderdale. “That’s Getty.”
“Getty and Michaels. Proceed to Martell’s position.” Sebastian glanced at Zeus, who stood at Sebastian’s right. “Getty’s closest. Maybe an hour out.”
“Coast Guard is already on alert,” Zeus said.
Sebastian nodded, his eyes on the map. “Ragno, contact Lake Worth Inlet Coast Guard station. Request an assist. Marks. Brachs?”
“Yes, sir,” the voices of two helicopter team leaders answered.
“Mobilize. Stat. Take divers.”
Zeus was torn. Vick was there. Not Ana. Hell. Maybe not Ana. And if the kidnappers had cut the chip out of Vick, maybe she wasn’t even there. But maybe they were both there. His people wouldn’t know, until they reached the area and searched it.
Kidnapping—rather than outright murder—implied that they’d use Ana for barter, but the terrorists could be doing just that—terrorizing. Distracting. If that was their end, they were doing a damn good job of both. Whether they wanted to use Ana for barter was a moot point, until they actually made a demand.
Zeus hoped like hell they’d try barter.
Damn straight he’d bargain with them.
Yet if the abductors were related, in any way, to the people who’d murdered Patricia Devlin, the wife of Judge Kent Devlin, or Madeline Brier, the wife of Robert Brier, he was fucked. Because they hadn’t used Patricia Devlin or Madeline Brier for barter. Neither of the others was abducted. They were ambushed and killed. Murder had been sufficient to get their point out to the world that Maximov was an insidious force, capable of wreaking havoc on a court that was supposed to be stopping cells that claimed to operate on his behalf. What they were doing with his daughter was different. For now, he had to cling to that difference, as though it had meaning.
“Sebastian.” Zeus had to stop the swirling thoughts that were expanding in his head. To do that, he needed to move. “I’m going with the choppers.”
If I stay still for one more fucking minute I’ll go crazy.
“Agree.” Sebastian said, reading his mind with a glacial cool, seemingly unruffled, once over. Sebastian, mic’d to Ragno and all the team leaders, would be able to orchestrate the operation while on the go. “We’ll take the Sikorsky. Marks and Brachs will have full teams in t
he Bell 525s,” Sebastian said. “If we’re in the Sikorsky, we can go elsewhere. Fast. If needed.”
As Sebastian directed the Sikorsky pilot to mobilize, Zeus turned to the large, open doors of the hangar. His eyes immediately found Sam. Several long tables with electrical outlets had been set up in the middle of the room. Agents with duties that required laptops and tablets were sitting there, working. Upon their arrival at the hangar, Sam had established a workstation for herself at one of the tables, and whenever he turned in her direction, her blond ponytail caught his eye. As Zeus paced around the hangar, he’d stopped by her workstation several times.
The horror he was going through over Ana enabled him to park his feelings about Sam’s rejection elsewhere. Perhaps never to be retrieved. Nothing he was going to worry about until he had his baby girl safely in his arms.
Sam was a professional, and so was he. They were both able to work in times of crisis. She’d been communicating with Abe and Charles, who were now midway through the Tuesday ITT proceedings in London. She’d also been preparing for Stollen’s interview, and, because Zeus was focused on Ana, she was now communicating directly with Gabe on all issues related to Stollen.
She stood, closing her laptop, with Jenkins was at her side. Raven One was preparing to depart to Colorado.
“Jenkins,” Zeus said, stepping between his agent and Sam. “Keep me on audio, along with Ragno and Gabe. You’re lead for Sam’s detail, as of now. Gabe has overall responsibility for the Amicus team detail, but you’re his second if and when he goes to Praptan. Feel free to bounce issues off of me. If I’m not responding, due to my preoccupation with killing the fuckers who have my daughter, use Gabe and Ragno.”
He nodded. “Understood, sir.”
Sam zipped her briefcase. Jenkins took it from her. She turned to Zeus, reached for his forearm, and gripped it. Her eyes, full of concern, matched the earnest worry in her soft tone. “I hope and pray, with every fiber of my being, that you find her.”
He nodded. Couldn’t do much else, because the compassion she conveyed made him want to reach out and hold onto the woman he loved, until he found strength to move forward.
Jigsaw (Black Raven Book 2) Page 36
