“What did you find?” Brent asked, closing the distance between them.
“Look over there, about forty feet down. There’s an outcropping wide enough for us to stand on. We can rappel down to there and try to climb the rest of the way.”
“Handholds are few and far between,” Brent said. “And we don’t have the right equipment with us to anchor ourselves to the cliff face.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Seth asked.
Brent looked down the terrain in both directions. “Not really.”
“I’ll go first. If I get down there and see it isn’t possible, I can use the rope to climb back up.”
“Maybe we should see if there’s another way down,” Jay suggested.
“We can walk for days, and we’re just going to end up back here,” Quinn countered. “Mountains like this one are the reason people have to fly into Canaima instead of drive.”
Seth watched his friend and commanding officer consider his suggestion and found himself wondering if he too felt the same drive to press on. “I can do it, Brent.”
“I guess we don’t have much choice. We have no idea why someone wanted us dead, and I’m not going to rest easy until we have answers.” Brent gave instructions to the rest of the squad, and they all went about securing rope and preparing what few safety precautions they could.
Seth tugged on his gloves, set his feet on the edge of the cliff, and prepared for his descent. As soon as he saw that his teammates were ready to guide him down, he stepped off the edge.
* * *
Rodrigo stood at the edge of the inner courtyard of Morenta’s villa and waited to be acknowledged. Morenta sat on a stone bench a short distance away, apparently enjoying the solitude and beauty of the various trees and flowers planted within.
“Is there a problem?” Morenta called out, his gaze still on some nearby miniature palms.
“I hope not, but I did find a discrepancy I wanted to discuss with you if you have a moment.”
“What is it?”
“Six months ago we suspected someone accessed some of your financial records, but we couldn’t identify who it was. We thought it must have been someone accidentally getting into the wrong file since no one ever tried to access any of the accounts.”
“And?”
“The accounts were viewed again a few weeks ago. It showed up on the monthly security logs.”
“Who?”
“Andrea Kemper.”
“The spy.” Morenta’s voice hardened. “Do you know what she was looking at?”
“Yes. The money transferred to Ramir. I don’t know why she would care about that particular account. Those funds are frozen. We tried ourselves to recover them.”
“Maybe she found a way to unfreeze the account.”
“The only way to do that would be to get to Ramir.”
“Or his niece. You said she was released from prison recently. Maybe those Navy SEALs know how to get to Lina. Are you sure the SEALs were killed?”
“The helicopter pilot confirmed five men were in the clearing when they opened fire.”
“Check to make sure,” Morenta ordered. “And I want you to go yourself. I don’t want secondhand information.”
“I’ll leave right away.”
“And, Rodrigo?”
“Yes?”
“If Andrea Kemper double-crossed me, I don’t want just her punished. Make sure you take care of everyone involved. We need to set an example.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 29
Her forty-eight hours were up. Vanessa had prayed she would find some evidence of Morenta in Venezuela or a clue as to how her husband had disappeared. Damian’s idea that the squad had been dropped off in Canaima was the best theory so far, but it didn’t explain why.
According to his logic, the sabotage on base and their current disappearance were related, both designed to draw her out. But why?
She looked out her window for a moment before closing the curtains and calling Warren.
“What have you got?” Warren asked the moment he picked up.
“A whole lot of nothing.” She explained what had happened in her first hotel room and the loss of her surveillance device. “All I really know is that Andrea Kemper is the person looking for me. What do you have on her? Any idea of a motive?”
“None. Her dad is agency and has been on overseas assignments most of her life. She joined up out of college, spent a few years at headquarters, and then transferred overseas. She’s been in Colombia for two years and was supposed to be infiltrating Morenta’s organization.”
“How deep was she able to go?”
“Not very. According to her reports, she never got past the ground floor of his organization. Intel reports are consistent with her story. We aren’t even sure she’s ever had personal contact with Morenta.”
“Any red flags on her psych test or poly?”
“Nothing of significance. The polygrapher noted that she didn’t have a strong response when she was told to deliberately lie, but some people are like that.”
“Yeah, but that also means if she was lying, she might not trigger a concern.”
“Exactly.” Warren went on to tell her about Terrance Gunning, the man they believed might be involved in the pilot’s murder. “Since he disappeared, it’s possible he’s in on this with her. According to Andrea’s father, Gunning dated Andrea for a couple years while she was working at headquarters. The dad didn’t particularly like the guy and thought they broke up when she moved to Colombia.”
“Maybe they’re still together,” Vanessa said. “I think we may have to push them to reveal their hand.”
“How are we going to find out what they’re really up to?”
“We may have to give them what they want,” Vanessa said.
“What they want is you,” Warren reminded her.
“Yes, but there has to be a reason, and until we figure out for sure who ‘they’ are, we’re at a standstill.”
“I think we need to give the navy another day to find your husband,” Warren said, altering his original plans.
“Warren, we both know that won’t stop this. Even if we find him, the perpetrators are still going to go after him or his squad until they draw me out.”
“That may be true, but I’d feel better if you took some time to think this through. If you’re going to lay a trap, do it right.”
“All I know so far is that I’m the bait.” Vanessa pulled back the curtain slightly, staring out the window.
“I have our analysts looking for connections between Morenta and Terrance Gunning. We’re also hoping Andrea’s father can shed some more light on why his daughter might have faked her own death.”
Fighting back her impatience, Vanessa relented. “Okay, I’ll give you your day. After that, I’m going to do whatever it takes to find Seth and his squad.”
“Understood,” Warren said. “Stay safe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Vanessa hung up and paced along the window. She looked out onto the street again, restless. Feeling the need for some fresh air, she secured her room and grabbed her purse.
Even though she was convinced no one had tracked her to her current location, as soon as she stepped outside, her eyes swept the area in search of anything suspicious.
She didn’t see any familiar faces, but she continued to look for unusual behavior as she started down the path that led along Lake Maracaibo.
For a moment, she let herself relax and appreciate the view—water rippling along the shore, sunlight streaming through the clouds. Though she didn’t often eat breakfast, she started toward several restaurants down the street, her eyes continually scanning her surroundings.
She turned to look in the window of a waterfront shop and caught a glimpse of someone behind her slowing his steps. Though she fought to hide her increased awareness, her mind was already skipping ahead to where she might be able to slip out of sight and how she could check to see if the man was follo
wing her.
She took her time looking in the window front and then started forward again. At the next business, a lakefront restaurant, she paused again, glancing across the sidewalk to the lake so she could improve her range of vision. Sure enough, the same man was still a short distance behind her, and once again, he slowed his steps to match hers.
Vanessa let out a sigh in an effort to calm her racing heart. What was she thinking when she decided to come to Venezuela alone? She needed backup, and at the moment, she had no idea whom she could trust.
* * *
Paige woke to the scent of warm corn tortillas and melted cheese. She climbed out of bed and picked up her cell phone, trying once again to call Vanessa. Her stomach clenched when it went straight to voice mail again. Were they too late? Had Morenta already found her? Or had Andrea?
Paige pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and headed into the living area. Damian sat at the table, a fork in one hand and a newspaper at his elbow. An untouched plate of something wonderful sat on the table across from him.
“Is this for me?”
“Yeah. I went downstairs and got us some breakfast a little while ago. I figured you needed some more sleep.”
“Thanks. What is it?”
“Cachapas con queso. It’s like a corn pancake with melted cheese inside.”
Paige picked up her fork and took a bite. The warm cheese oozed into her mouth, the delightful sweet-corn taste complementing it beautifully. “Mmmm. This is good.”
“Glad you like it.” He pushed the newspaper aside. “Were you able to get ahold of Vanessa?”
“No. I’m really getting worried.”
“I know.” Damian motioned to Paige’s breakfast. “Go ahead and take your time eating. I’m going to get us some transportation, and then I want to check a couple things out.”
“Where are you going to get transportation?”
“I have a few ideas. I used to live here, remember?” Damian reached for the door and said over his shoulder, “I should be back in about an hour. Don’t open the door to anyone. I can use my key to get back in.”
Paige wanted to ask more questions, but she sat silently and watched him go. She went into her room and retrieved several of the items Ghost had given her. Using her notes, she figured out how to set up the mini-camera disguised as a pen and send the feed to her phone. She played with the position of it for a few minutes, finally situating it on the dresser so it was aimed at the door.
Setting her phone down, she crossed to the window and stood to the side like she had seen Damian do earlier. Her eyes focused on the view of the lake first. Then she looked down at the various pedestrians walking four stories below her.
She saw Vanessa immediately, but it took a moment for her mind to catch up with the image in front of her. The woman she was trying to find was only half a block away.
Paige looked at her watch. Damian had only been gone a few minutes, and he had told her to stay in the room. Surely that didn’t include a situation like this one.
Paige knew she might be able to contact Vanessa again through her cell phone, but after failing so many times before, she wondered if she should take advantage of her current good fortune.
Vanessa stopped to look in a store window, and Paige was amazed at how casual she looked. Had she not known firsthand that Vanessa worked for the CIA, she would have sworn she was just like anyone else walking along the sidewalk.
Vanessa glanced up at a restaurant sign, still looking very much like someone more interested in the local businesses than in finding a drug lord.
Then the man a short distance behind Vanessa caught Paige’s attention. The moment Vanessa stopped, he did too. He tried to look casual but wasn’t nearly as successful as Vanessa. Paige watched intently, now realizing she couldn’t wait for Damian. She had to warn Vanessa.
She grabbed her purse and hotel room key and rushed out of the room. The elevator seemed to take forever, even though it was only a few seconds.
When she emerged outside, Vanessa was nearly upon her. Not knowing what else to do, Paige hurried forward as though she was running late.
The moment she reached the sidewalk, she looked over her shoulder as though she wasn’t paying attention and plowed right into Vanessa.
She deliberately let the contents of her purse spill out onto the concrete and pasted an annoyed expression on her face. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Paige said to Vanessa, making her voice loud enough to draw the attention of several people close by.
“Siento,” Vanessa said in return, leaning down to help Paige pick up the contents of her purse.
“A man is following you. Blue T-shirt, standing next to the restaurant a half block down.”
“I want you to ask for directions. Ask someone else first and ask in English. Then go ask the man following me.” Vanessa handed back Paige’s wallet, but on top of it was a patch the size of a small pea. “See if you can plant this on him.”
“What about you?”
“After you plant it, just keep walking,” Vanessa whispered back. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m clear.”
Paige scooped up a handful of pens that had scattered.
“You can do this,” Vanessa said, straightening. She offered another apology for the benefit of anyone close by before continuing down the sidewalk.
Now left alone, Paige forced herself to move forward. She spoke to the person closest to her, a woman holding a small child on her hip. “Excuse me. Do you speak English?”
The woman shook her head. “No, no hablo ingles.”
Paige turned to the man in the blue shirt and saw immediately that he was going to try to avoid her. Afraid of being too obvious, she pulled out her cell phone and looked down at the blank screen as though trying to retrieve information. She waited for the man to get a step past her. With the miniature patch in her hand, she hurried after him.
“Excuse me,” Paige called after him, putting her hand on his shoulder, presumably to get his attention. “Do you know where the closest pharmacy is?”
He turned and scowled, quickly pulling free of her. His answer was short and hard. “No.”
“Well, thanks anyway.” Paige followed up on her act by asking yet another person for help. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced in the direction Vanessa had headed, pleased to see she wasn’t anywhere in sight.
* * *
Seth didn’t look at anything but the side of the cliff, his focus entirely on his task. Without a proper harness, his progression down the side of the rock face was slow and tedious. He was also highly aware that his rope ended more than thirty feet from the ground below. He made it the first twenty feet and found enough of an outcropping to use as a foothold and provide a spot for a short rest. His back and shoulders could already feel the strain of trying to climb down hand over hand instead of rappelling.
“How are you doing?” Brent called down to him.
“Okay.” He thought of when he had free-climbed down the rappelling tower to help Jay and Damian, remembering the observation by his teammates that his wife would not have been pleased. He couldn’t imagine she would be happy with him right now, but she could hardly blame him for trying to find a way home to her.
At least she was safely working in Virginia right now. Since she didn’t have access to what his mission entailed, she wouldn’t know their mission had been compromised, nor would she have any reason to worry.
He had so looked forward to the possibility of returning home with the knowledge that Morenta was in custody, that yet another threat against Vanessa’s previous alias could no longer harm her.
Seth continued his steady climb, walking down the side of the cliff as his hands worked the rope. He was nearly to the ledge when an unsettling thought came into his mind.
Amy. She was supposed to receive a communication from them when they made their landing zone. That was three-and-a-half days ago, and Amy wasn’t known for her patience.
Undoubtedly the navy was lo
oking for them by now since they hadn’t made their rendezvous point, but he couldn’t keep from wondering if Amy or someone else in the navy might try to enlist Vanessa’s help. After all, she was the only person within the U.S. government besides him to ever see Morenta in person and live to tell about it.
Seth’s foot knocked some pebbles loose, and he heard them ricocheting off the side of the rock as they skittered down to the ground below.
Focus, he reminded himself. Whether Vanessa knew enough to worry or not, he wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he ended up as part of the scenery below.
“Shift a couple feet to your left,” Tristan called down to him.
Seth did as he was told, and a minute later, his foot connected with the small ledge. He shifted, planting his foot more firmly on it, testing his weight to make sure the outcropping was solid.
Cautiously, he moved along the ledge, ensuring that it was indeed safe. Then he knelt and studied the mountain below him. As Brent had suspected, handholds were few and far between. He plotted a course in his mind, calculating the distance between the possible hand- and footholds and comparing that with his reach.
The first few feet offered little to hold on to, but if he used the rope for that part . . . He looked up and shouted. “I think I can make it.”
“I’m sending Jay down first. He can help guide you.”
Seth accepted Brent’s direction even though his sense of urgency continued to increase.
With Seth helping to guide him, Jay’s climb down to the ledge went smoothly. As soon as he took position beside Seth, Jay too studied their objective.
“I don’t know, Seth,” Jay said hesitantly. “The reach looks pretty long on some of those.”
“I want to try.” He outlined his strategy, using his hand to point to the various possibilities. “Talk me through it.”
Seth took hold of the rope and pulled it up until he was holding the end. Then he tied a thick knot in the end so he could identify it. He let it fall free again, gripping a section to help lower himself the first several feet.
“Okay.” Jay shifted his position to gain a clearer perspective. “Your first target is about six or seven feet down on your right side.”
Drop Zone Page 18
