The Excoms

by Brett Battles

  More talking. Even closer now.

  “I’ll just…it’s over.”

  “You and me both.”

  “How long…to…do you think?”

  “Cool it, asshole. You’ll…like the rest…”

  “Sorry. Guess I’m a little…”

  Tessa’s eyes grew wide.

  That voice. The last one. The man who’d apologized.

  Mr. Carter.

  He wasn’t dead. In fact, he seemed to be talking with the kidnappers like he was…

  …one of them.

  As this thought hit her, other things began flashing through her mind.

  Mr. Carter replacing Mrs. Sorenson right before they left.

  Mr. Carter’s nervousness on the trip up to the mountains, though he’d played it off as excitement about the retreat.

  Mr. Carter needing to go back to his room and “call home” more than anyone else did.

  Mr. Carter vetoing the idea of an unplanned final hike before they headed home that morning, insisting the schedule must be adhered to, that it would be an inconvenience to the families expecting them home at a certain time.

  Mr. Carter being pulled out of the RV and “shot” out of sight of Tessa and the others.

  Tessa knew she couldn’t tell everyone what she’d learned. Mr. Jones would likely go ballistic, and the other kids…well, you didn’t tell kids that kind of thing, right?

  Maybe if she got the chance, she could whisper it to Mrs. Wright. But she’d have to make sure no one else was around—not an easy task in the pitch-black of their cell.

  She turned her ear to the hatch again, but the voices were gone.

  __________

  ANDREW CARTER, REAL name Jeffrey Simmons though no one called him that anymore, said, “Sorry. Guess I’m a little on edge,” and set the carton of bottled water on the ground next to the bag of apples Nyland had just put down. In an hour or so, they’d drop them through the hatch into the old doomsday shelter for the hostages’ lunch.

  “We’re all on edge,” Nyland said. “But nobody else is whining like you. Grab a beer. Calm the hell down.”

  He walked out of the dilapidated workshop that had been built over the shelter.

  Carter paused near the center of the room and looked down at the hatch. Three of the kids down there were worth a lot of money. But one of the others was worth something, too. What and how much and why—he had no idea. He just knew what McGowan had told them.

  “No matter what, nothing is to happen to the Herrera girl,” McGowan had said after they brought the hostages to this godforsaken place, where they would stay until the ransom was paid. “And the job is not complete until we deliver her to the client. Alive.”

  While this may have been meant to instill vigilance in everyone, Carter saw the information for what it really was—a way to safeguard his fee in the event things went bad.

  He smiled at the hatch, and then went out to grab one of those beers.

  29

  CHINESE CAMP, CALIFORNIA

  “IT’S SHINJI,” ROSARIO said.

  She turned her computer toward the others and accepted his video request.

  The moment Shinji’s tired-looking face appeared, Ricky leaned forward and waved. “Shinji! Buddy! How you doing?”

  “Oh, hey, Ricky,” Shinji said cautiously. “I’m okay, thanks.” There was a pause before he added, “How are you?”

  “Couldn’t be better, my friend! Me. Ananke. Working together. It’s a hell of a lot better than prison, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  Ananke nudged Ricky away from the screen. “What’s up?”

  “Oh, do I have some stuff for you,” Shinji said, his enthusiasm returning.

  He first told them about where the e-mails had been sent from, and who had sent them. As he talked, he triggered a map to appear on Rosario’s screen, showing the location of Tonopah. In two separate windows appeared images of the e-mail sender and his vehicle.

  “There is nothing else around this place,” Rosario said, zooming out on the map so they could see the town was miles and miles from anywhere. “If we are operating under the assumption that the new deadline was triggered by the explosion—”

  “Which we are,” Ananke said.

  “—and was sent four minutes after it went off—”

  “And it was.”

  “—and that the kidnappers could not know exactly when that would happen—”

  “I don’t see how they could have.”

  “—then the sender had to have been waiting in Tonopah for a day or two at least, correct? I mean, if he were in a big city, he could be out and about and still find someplace relatively quickly to e-mail the deadline change. In this place, though, if he is not in town, he is out of luck. So—”

  “So the children are either nearby or the sender went there on purpose to wait until it was time to send a note,” Liesel jumped in.

  “Exactly.”

  Ananke nodded. The analysis was dead on. “We need to get there. Fast.”

  “Don’t you want to hear what else I have for you?” Shinji said.

  Everyone looked back at the chat box.

  “What?” Ananke asked.

  A video popped up and began to play. On the right side of the frame was a wooded area, and on the left the start of a meadow. Horizontally bisecting the image in the lower third was a two-lane road.

  “This is from a north-facing security camera attached to a park-service building on Tioga Road, which is the eastern portion of Highway 120.”

  Highway 120 was the road that ran through Groveland, but on the west side it was known as Big Oak Flat Road.

  “Here it comes,” Shinji said.

  Three cars passed through the frame eastbound, and another two west.

  “There.”

  A large RV, the size of a touring bus, entered from the left. It had a trailer attached to the back, the contents of which were covered by a gray tarp. As the vehicle went by, Ananke saw that the back end of the tarp was flapping in the wind. As it lunged upward, she caught the glimpse of two upright tires.

  “Motorcycle tires?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” Dylan said.

  She frowned. “I’m sure dozens of people haul motorcycles down that road every day.”

  “Possibly. But then there’s this.”

  Another clip played. A new location, same RV, but this time as it passed center frame, an updraft caught the flapping end of the tarp and kept it raised for a few seconds. This provided a much clearer view of the back of the bikes, and also revealed a third bike perched between them a bit farther forward in the trailer.

  Again, in and of itself, the clip was not proof that the RV had carried away the kids.

  “I assume you have something more,” she said.

  “Analysis confirms that the two visible tires are the same makes and models as those that made two of the tracks at the campsite you found. Also, that last clip gave my computer enough information to ID the bikes with a ninety-two percent certainty that they are also the makes and models of two of the bikes on the clip Ricky discovered. And don’t forget, it’s headed east, toward Nevada. Toward Tonopah.”

  Though still not conclusive, the connections could not be ignored.

  Ananke sat back. “It looks like we know where we’re going next.”

  __________

  SINCE DRIVING WOULD waste too much time, Shinji arranged for a Learjet to meet them at a private airfield outside East Oakdale, and soon they were on their way to Nevada.

  As they flew over the Sierra Nevada Mountains, Ananke looked to the south for smoke but didn’t spot anything. Had firefighters caught the fire in time? Or was she not looking in the right place?

  You alerted the authorities. There’s nothing more you can do, Ananke told herself. Any fire is not your fault.

  Maybe, but it sure felt like it.

  After they passed over the mountains and entered Nevada, the terrain rushing by b
elow them became miles and miles of dry lake beds surrounded by barren rocky hills. When the pilot announced they were beginning their final approach, one thing was obvious. If there was such a place as the middle of nowhere, Tonopah was its capital.

  The community’s duel runway airport was east of town. As they neared the ground, the pilot warned that their landing might be a little rough.

  And, boy, was he right.

  The jet bounced all over the place as soon as it touched down. The reason became evident when they deplaned. The tarmac was in dire need of refinishing.

  A gray Ford Explorer and a dark blue Dodge Ram pickup that Shinji had also arranged were waiting for them.

  “Pickup’s mine!” Ricky declared.

  As long as Ananke didn’t have to ride with him, that was fine by her.

  Before leaving the airport, she touched base with Shinji to see if he’d come up with anything new.

  “I have the RV turning toward Nevada on Highway 6, but after that, nothing. If they kept heading east, they would have had to change vehicles somewhere between the border and I-95. And if they didn’t go that far, they’re likely within fifty miles or so of Tonopah.”

  “What about our e-mailer?” Ananke asked.

  “As of ten minutes ago, his car was parked in the lot belonging to the Goodwin Hotel and Casino.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  30

  50 MINUTES EARLIER

  OFFICE OF THE ADMINISTRATOR

  A VIDEO CHAT request from Committee member Tuesday popped onto the Administrator’s screen.

  The Administrator accepted the call. “Mr. Tuesday, if you could give me just a moment, I can give you my full attention.”

  Tuesday did not look pleased. “Make it fast.”

  The Administrator put him on hold, and then, as he had been instructed to do if Tuesday requested any further one-on-one conversations, he covertly patched in Monday.

  After activating Tuesday’s line again, the Administrator said, “I apologize for the delay. How may I assist you?”

  “I want an update on the kidnapping.”

  “We have an update for the full committee scheduled for this evening. Did you not receive your notification?”

  “I am not about to wait that long! I brought this project to the Committee. Progress reports need to be available to me whenever I ask for them.”

  “Sir, that’s not how the Committee works.”

  “This is a special case, and you know it. Additional oversight seems prudent.”

  The Administrator’s gaze strayed to the monitor just left of the one Tuesday occupied, a change in focus that the Committee member would not register as anything but a pause. In the second monitor, Monday nodded.

  “A valid point, Mr. Tuesday. Additional oversight would not be unreasonable.” The Administrator made a show of opening a folder on his desk that had nothing to do with the field team’s mission. It was a prop to put the other man at ease. “The field team has traced a lead to…” He paused, as if searching for the information. “Tonopah, Nevada.”

  “Is that where the kids are? Have they found them?”

  “The team is en route, but they are not sure if that’s where the children were taken or not.”

  “Then why are they going there?”

  “It’s where the computer that sent the ransom notes is located.”

  A startled pause. “Really? What about the person who sent them? Do they know who it is?”

  “They’re working on that.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. They didn’t yet know the name of the man in the UNLV hoodie.

  Tuesday grimaced. “What if it’s a dead end? There’s only, what? Seventeen hours left? Maybe we should just pay the ransom.”

  “That is also not how the Committee works.”

  “I don’t mean us. I mean the families. We should tell them to pay.”

  “I’m sure you are aware that paying a ransom is no guarantee the hostages will be returned alive.”

  “And if the field team doesn’t get to them before the deadline, the kids will be dead for sure. At least this way there’s a chance.”

  “I’m confused, sir,” the Administrator said. “If you think paying the ransom is the way to go, why did you bring this to the Committee in the first place?”

  “I-I-I…” Tuesday sighed. “My apologies. Children in harm’s way is something that always gets to me. I don’t actually think paying the ransom is the right thing. I’m just…worried.”

  “We all are. I suggest that if we get down to the last hour or two before the deadline and the team has not yet been successful, then we can recommend paying.”

  “That sounds more than reasonable.”

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  Tuesday shook his head. “Just keep me updated on any changes.”

  “Of course.”

  Tuesday reached forward and his image winked off.

  The Administrator verified that the connection had truly been severed before he transferred his boss’s feed to the center screen.

  “He clearly has no clue you’ve discovered his connection to the kidnapping,” Monday said.

  “You’ve read my report, then.”

  “I have. And I’m not happy about it. This should have been uncovered during the vetting process.”

  “It should have, and I take full responsibility. If you desire I tender my resignation, I—”

  “If I wanted you to resign, I wouldn’t dance around it. What I want is for you to be extra vigilant in your search to find us two new Committee members.”

  “Yes, sir,” the Administrator said. “Would you like me to deliver the news to Tuesday now?”

  Monday took a moment before saying, “No. After the mission is resolved. He is in no frame of mind to listen at the moment anyway.”

  31

  TONOPAH, NEVADA

  THEY PARKED AT opposite ends of the Goodwin Hotel’s parking lot to allow more flexibility if they ended up having to get out of there in a hurry.

  To prevent drawing undue attention, Rosario, Liesel, and Ricky entered the hotel separately—Liesel and Ricky with instructions to search the lobby and restaurant area, while Rosario attempted a bit of techno magic at the reception desk. Ananke and Dylan would take the casino, but first they did a walk-by of the white Altima the target had been using.

  A few crumpled food bags sat on the passenger seat, but otherwise the interior was empty.

  Dylan nonchalantly tried the handle, but it was locked. “I could get it open in a snap, if you’re inclined.”

  Ananke shook her head. The longer they loitered around the car, the greater chance the target would walk out and see them. There was, however, one thing she did want to do before they left the vehicle.

  She retrieved her switchblade and tried to plunge it into the Altima’s rear tire. Her angle was a bit off, so the blade caught on one of the steel belts and she wasn’t sure how much damage she’d done. She considered puncturing it again, but before she could do so, several people exited the hotel and walked in their general direction. The one cut would have to do.

  She and Dylan crossed to the casino entrance and went inside. Goodwin was no Caesar’s Palace. The whole gaming operation took up no more space than a suite at the Wynn Hotel on the Vegas Strip. Even with the casino’s smaller size, there were plenty of empty seats in front of slot machines and the three blackjack tables.

  Ananke motioned for Dylan to check left while she went right. As she walked past the beckoning machines, she scanned the gamblers. Ninety percent were women, and of the ten percent of men, all were older than the guy the team was looking for. When she reached the blackjack tables, she looked back toward Dylan. He shook his head.

  She gave the place another scan before rejoining him and heading into the hotel portion of the complex.

  Rosario was at the front desk, talking to one of the clerks, while Liesel stood near the restaurant entryway at the other end of the lobby. Ricky was nowher
e in sight.

  Ananke nodded at Dylan to check the public hall that ran past the reception desk toward the back of the building. She then turned on her mic and whispered, “Liesel, anything?”

  “He is not in the restaurant.”

  “Where’s Ricky?”

  “Said he was going to check upstairs.”

  “I never said anything about going upstairs.”

  “He said he had a…hunch, I believe is the word he used.”

  Ananke shut her eyes for a second to temper her frustration. Yes, Ricky knew how to hunt, but at the moment they were supposed to be working as a group. They needed to coordinate their efforts to avoid getting in one another’s way.

  “Ricky, come in.”

  A barely audible whisper came over the radio. “Can’t talk.”

  “What’s going on? Where are you?”

  He said something else, but this time she couldn’t make it out.

  “Ricky?”

  Nothing.

  She tried again but he didn’t answer. Swearing under her breath, she looked back at Liesel. “Did he specifically say where this hunch was taking him?”

  “He did not.”

  While Ananke could waste time looking for him, it would be smarter to stick to the plan. So when Rosario stepped away from the reception desk and headed toward the elevators, Ananke did the same.

  “You and Dylan keep watch here in the lobby,” Ananke told Liesel as she crossed the lobby, arriving at the elevators a moment before the doors opened.

  Conscious of the camera in the ceiling, Ananke and Rosario acted like they didn’t know each other as they entered the car. Ananke then angled her head down to hide her face from the lens and whispered, “Did it work?”

  Rosario flashed the screen of her phone. On it was the list of guests she’d secretly downloaded while she was talking to the check-in clerk. She studied the screen and highlighted several names.

  The elevator dinged as they arrived on four, the highest floor.

  Ananke exited first and looked around. Closed doors, used room-service dishes on the floor, a typical hotel floor. The only noise was a hum coming from an ice machine just off the elevator lobby—a lobby, she noted, that did not have a security camera.