by Dee Davis
“I still think we can’t discount the possibility of a third party,” Drake said. “We know Rivon’s not running the show. So maybe someone is keeping tabs on the situation. Only Rivon wouldn’t know about it.”
“So basically, we don’t have any idea what the hell he was doing in my room,” Annie said.
“Do we have any leads on the man’s real identity?” Nash asked, still watching Annie. She was keeping tight rein on her emotions, but he could see the tension in her face, the fear in her eyes.
“Not yet,” Drake said. “We managed to lift a couple of partials from the knife. Hannah’s running fingerprints now. If we get lucky, he’ll turn up in one of our databases. But until then your guess is as good as mine.”
“Well, whoever the guy is,” Nash said, “if he’s involved in this, he’ll be reporting back. And that means there’s a risk that he saw me and put two and two together.”
“I don’t know,” Annie said. “Everything happened really fast. And you were behind the curtain most of the time. I doubt he got a good look at you.”
“At the very least, though,” Jason said, “he’ll know you’re not alone.”
“Shit.” Annie sank down on the bed.
“It could have been housekeeping, for all he knew,” Drake said, shaking his head. “Anyway, whether he saw Nash or not, our hands are tied. Until Annie meets with Rivon, or until Hannah has a breakthrough, there’s nothing much we can do.”
“What about the photograph of Adam?” Annie asked. And Nash immediately flashed on the little boy in the picture. He had Annie’s eyes. And he looked like a fighter. Just like his mom. “Did Hannah find anything that might help?”
“Nothing,” Drake said. “Except that it’s definitely residential. But that could be an apartment. A house. Hell, it could be a decorated room in a warehouse. There’s just no way to know. Have you set a time for the meeting yet?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Rivon hasn’t called. But he said he had to talk to his bosses.”
“Any chance he’d have tried to call while the phone was down?” Nash asked.
“None,” Jason responded. “I rigged it so that if a call came through, Annie could answer through the computer.”
“Too damn high-tech for me.” Nash shrugged.
“Clearly some things never change,” Annie said with the arch of an eyebrow.
“Hey, it’s not like I can’t deal with it when I have to. I just prefer doing things the old-fashioned way.”
“Especially if it involves shooting someone,” Drake goaded.
“Too bad I didn’t have the chance.”
“Well, somebody did some damage. Tyler found blood on the roof.”
“That’d be me,” Annie said, looking pleased with herself, not that he blamed her. Given the chance he’d have blown the guy’s head off—right after he forced the man to spill Adam’s location. “I got in a couple of good punches. Definitely enough to draw blood.”
“We sent the sample to Lara to see if it was viable for DNA.”
“And?”
“Haven’t heard anything yet. But between the DNA and the fingerprints, we’ll figure out who this bastard is.”
“So where is Tyler?” Nash asked.
“Downstairs. Making certain we weren’t followed. She’ll come up after she’s sure it’s all clear.”
“You guys think of everything.” Annie tried to smile, but missed the mark, the skin around her eyes lined with worry.
“Once Rivon calls,” Jason said, “we’ll be ready. I’ve worked up the schematic you requested. For the sniper rifle.” He produced a small folder and held it out for Annie. “I based it on the description you gave me on the phone.”
She pushed away from the window to take the file. Opening it, she studied it for a moment, and then smiled—the first real one Nash had seen. “This is amazing work. Right down to the notations. Rivon will think I drew it myself.”
“That was the plan,” Nash said. “But it’s a hell of a lot more than just a drawing.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning down at the schematic.
“It’s also a tracking device,” Jason said, unable to contain his excitement. “It’s actually embedded in the portfolio.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” she said, lifting the schematic to the light.
“That’s because I’m the first to develop it. In fact, this will be its first time in the field.”
“You’re putting my son’s life on the back of technology that hasn’t even been tested?” Her jaw tightened as she surveyed the three of them.
“Oh, it has been tested,” Jason assured her. “Vigorously. Just not in an actual operation. But we’ve simulated them and believe me when I say that the device is virtually undetectable.”
“And it’s got an impressive range,” Drake added. “More than ten miles.”
“You’ve worked with it, then.” Her frown deepened as she continued to examine the hand-drawn blueprint. “Nash?”
“I haven’t had the chance to test it.” He shook his head. “But Drake is our expert at extraction. So if he’s signed off on it, I’m good to go.”
“Hey, I invented it,” Jason protested. “Which means I believe in it. Shouldn’t that count for something?”
“Of course.” Annie nodded. “It’s just that there’s so much riding on our being able to track Rivon. I mean, it makes sense that he’ll take it to whoever he’s working for. But there’s nothing to assure that that will get us to Adam.”
“Well, we know he was there when you talked to Adam,” Drake said. “And Adam said the guy had been playing games with him. So it’s reasonable to believe they’re together.”
“It’s our best shot,” Nash added.
“I promise, Annie,” Jason said. “The device works.”
“All right then. All I’ve got to do is get it to Rivon.”
The phone vibrated against the metal of the radiator cover. The sound stopped all conversation as everyone turned to stare at the undulating cell.
Annie nodded for quiet and then answered the phone. “Gallagher.” Mouthing Rivon, she waved them to the far corner as she moved into the bathroom, well out of range of their voices.
“Jason?” Nash nodded toward Annie.
“I’m on it.” Jason hit a key and adjusted his earphone. “I’ve got her. It’s definitely Rivon.” He turned back to his computer, focusing on the call.
“So do you really trust her?” Drake asked, keeping his voice just above a whisper, his gaze probing.
“There’s no easy answer to that question,” Nash said. “Eight years ago, I trusted her with my life. And then she betrayed me in the worst possible way. Throwing everything I thought I knew about her in question.”
“I’m not asking about the past. I’m asking about now. She did, after all, try to take out Dominico.”
“Well, she had a pretty damn strong motivation. You know as well as I do that if someone you loved was in danger and the only way to save them was to cross the line, you’d be over it so fast it’d make your head spin.”
“Maybe. But then again, maybe I wouldn’t get myself into that position in the first place. We carry a hell of a lot of baggage in this business. Most of it armed and dangerous.”
“Sometimes there isn’t a choice. It’s not like Annie knowingly put her son in danger. How was she to know someone wanting to use her past was waiting in the wings?”
“She wasn’t. But for my money, she should have known it was a possibility.”
“And what? Terminated her pregnancy? Abandoned her son? That seems a little harsh.”
“Nash, I’m not trying to debate the pros and cons of people like us having serious relationships. I’m just trying to figure out if we can trust Annie.”
“Look, the truth of it is that I’m the last person to make that call. I’ve got too much history. But if I had a kid and someone took him, I can tell you without doubt that I’d do anything to get him back
. Which means that as long as we’re an asset, she has no reason to do anything counter to our mission.”
“And if she finds out our primary mission isn’t to rescue Adam?”
“She already knows that. She may have been out of the game a long time, but believe me she’s more than aware of how it’s played.”
“If we’re lucky,” Drake said, shrugging, “maybe we’ll figure out a way to achieve both goals. Save the kid and take out his kidnappers. I say we take things one step at a time. We get the schematic to Rivon, let him lead us to Adam, and then we’ll use the information to figure out our next move.”
“And besides, even if we can’t trust Annie, I’ve got things covered,” Jason said, pulling the receiver out of his ear. “She’ll be wired to the gills.”
“How so?” Annie said, stepping back into the room.
“You’ll be wearing these.” Jason held out his hand, revealing two intricately carved earrings, silver drops sporting pearls at the ends. “They’re a one-way transmitter. As long as you’re wearing them, we’ll be able to hear everything that you and Rivon say. And I’ll be able to relay it all back to Sunderland so that Hannah can record and analyze it.”
“I see,” she said, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Covering your asses in case I make a break for it?”
“Never hurts to err on the side of caution.” Nash shrugged.
“True enough,” she said, her words hanging almost tangibly between them.
“So what did Rivon have to say?” Drake asked, cutting through the tension.
“I thought Jason was monitoring the call?”
“He was,” Nash admitted. “But Drake and I weren’t listening in.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. This is just so damn hard. I feel like I’m being yanked all over the place. First by Rivon. Then by all of you. I just want to get Adam back.”
“That’s what we want, too,” Jason assured her.
“And all of this,” Drake said, waving at the earrings and the schematic, “is just the easiest way to make that happen. So tell us what Rivon had to say.”
“He’s agreed to a meeting,” she replied. “And he wants to do it tonight.”
CHAPTER 9
Carl Schurz Park lay enveloped in the dark shadows of a moonless night, the shoreline of Queens eerily illuminated across the churning waters of the East River. Annie walked slowly, her gait casual, but inside her heart was pounding. So much was riding on this exchange.
The park, bustling with locals in the daytime, was deserted now. In the distance, parked along a side road, Annie could just make out the bulky shape of the utility van where Drake and Jason were waiting to monitor her meeting with Rivon. A part of her wanted to toss the earrings in the nearest trash can. If nothing else, just to prove that she was in charge.
But the cold hard truth was that she’d lost all semblance of control the moment Nash had leveled his gun at the back of her head. He was out there now. Waiting, watching. His presence should have made her feel more secure. But it didn’t. Not one little bit.
A gust of wind blew off the water, whipping through trees, leaves rattling in protest. Annie shivered, thinking of Adam. Somewhere out there her little boy was waiting. And she’d be damned if she’d let anyone get in the way of bringing him home.
Located in the Eighties on the Upper East Side, the dimly lit park was hilly and narrow, with pathways that rendered it almost mazelike, complete with dead ends, blind corners, and hidden grottoes. Rivon had chosen a circular courtyard honoring Peter Pan as a meeting place, the draw, no doubt, the statue’s tree-shrouded isolation at the park’s northeastern end.
As if to intensify the mood, tendrils of mist curled along the edges of the path, shifting and turning as she moved. Moisture-laden trees, amplified by the fog, loomed larger than life, their crooked branches reaching up into the night.
“If you’re listening, this isn’t exactly my idea of a good time,” she whispered, immediately feeling stupid. Next time, she was insisting on a two-way radio, regardless of the risk.
With a sigh, she glanced down at her watch, the illuminated dial showing that it was almost eleven. Speeding her pace, she made her way through the park, passing basketball courts and swing sets, leaving behind pavement for the rock-studded woods that covered the north end of the park.
At the top of a rise, she stopped and watched as a barge made its way up the river, green lights winking through the mist. Turning back to the park, she walked slowly down the stairs that led to Peter in his grotto, the shadows deepening as she descended, her senses on high alert.
Here in the dark, it was almost possible to imagine that she was actually in Neverland. She was more than familiar with Peter’s story. She’d read the book to Adam. And of course, they’d watched the movie. Even collected all the Disney characters. Adam loved Peter, Wendy, and the Lost Boys. He’d even liked Smee. But he’d been so afraid of Captain Hook, he’d moved the little plastic figurine to the back of his bookshelf, Hook’s nose firmly pressed into the corner. Annie’d laughed at the time, but here in the dark, she wasn’t so sure that Adam hadn’t had the right idea.
At the bottom of the stairs, the courtyard yawned black, the bronze statue rising up above the mist like one of Peter’s mermaids on her rock in the sea. Shaking her head to break the fantasy, Annie let her eyes adjust to the gloom, then searched the circular clearing for signs of Rivon. At first glance, the grotto seemed empty, bordering bushes and trees stark against the sharp outcrop of stone that surrounded the clearing. Benches lined the circle, Peter serenely holding court in the center.
Then a shadow on the far side separated itself from the wall. Rivon. Annie’s fingers closed around the gun in her pocket, the cold metal comforting. There was only one way in or out of the clearing, and using instinct honed by years of training, Annie moved cautiously around the circle, careful to keep from turning her back. Rivon watched her move, his features obscured by the gloom.
“You’re certainly taking your time,” he said, as she came to a stop in front of him, her hand still on the gun in her pocket.
“I always err on the side of caution.” She nodded at the entrance, now off to her right. “Anyone with you?”
“No. Although I’d have preferred to come with an army. Never have liked this city. No matter how much they pretend to clean it up, it still always seems dangerous.” His gaze darted nervously around the courtyard.
There was irony in his statement, but she didn’t have the luxury of examining the fact. “How is my son?” she asked, trying to hold her voice steady. No sense in alerting this goon to her fear.
“He’s fine.”
“Is he eating? Has he been sleeping? He doesn’t function well when he hasn’t had enough sleep.” The words came tumbling out as she watched Rivon, praying for some kind of news.
“I told you, he’s fine,” Rivon said, his hooded gaze darting around the clearing. “But he won’t be if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain.”
“Right,” she said, steeling herself, digging deep, calling on the woman she’d once been. “Did you bring the plans I asked for?” She’d already decided it was best to make that seem the more important concern.
“Yeah. Right here.” He offered a manila envelope. “The floor plan is old. But there haven’t been any major renovations.” She nodded, pretending to care. In actuality, she already had the plans. Updated. In point of fact, Dominico was actually quite fond of redoing his apartment.
“And the blueprints of the buildings across the way?” She shifted slightly, constantly checking the pathway and bushes for signs of company.
“They’re in there, too. All but one. But I’ll have it for you the next time we meet. When I bring you the gun. Do you have the plans?”
“Yes.” She held out Jason’s portfolio. “We should go over a few things.”
“Fancy presentation,” he noted, opening the folder.
“I like to be thorough.”
He nod
ded, producing a penlight to study the drawings.
Annie held her breath. She was fairly certain Rivon didn’t have the technical know-how to spot the embedded device, but the knowledge didn’t make her any less nervous. One mistake on her part and her son was dead.
“The key changes are to the scope.” She pointed to a diagram lower on the page, moving in closer to make sure that her earrings were picking up the conversation. “You can see what’s needed here and here. A long-distance telescopic, preferably with laser sight—thirty to forty power. And a free-floating barrel with a threaded muzzle. In addition, I’ll need the cheek piece customized. The specs are here.” Again she pointed to a diagram on the schematic. “And finally, I need the whole thing to break down in seconds and some kind of backpack to fit the pieces. So that it’s easy to carry in and out without being noticed.”
“Not asking for much, are you?” Rivon said, his tone sarcastic.
“If you want me to take out Dominico, this is what I’ll need to get the job done.”
“And if we can’t find one?”
“You can have it built. There are military versions that can serve as a starting place for the modifications. Both American and Russian made. And there are any number of gunsmiths capable of making the necessary changes. But you’ll need to be careful. This kind of weapon sets off all kinds of alarms if the transaction goes public.”
He frowned down at the document in his hand. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“A couple of days. Maybe longer. I’m not an expert on sniper rifles. I’ll get back to you with an ETA.”
“And what about my son?”
“I told you he’s fine. Quite the little gamer.”
She shifted nervously, fingering her gun, the desire to take Rivon out overwhelming. But there was nothing gained in his death.
At least not yet.
“You promised me something to show that he’s still okay.”
Rivon reached in his upper coat pocket and produced a cell phone. After clicking several keys on the keypad, he handed it to her, the screen filling with the image of her son. He was sitting at a game console, clearly enthralled with the characters on screen. A half-eaten sandwich lay at his elbow. The camera panned slowly and then moved in for a close-up. Adam looked tired, but healthy, his hair clean and his clothes new. She fought off a sob as she traced the line of his jaw, her fingers remembering the silky softness of his hair. “How do I know this is recent?” she asked.
