Deadly Ties

by Vicki Hinze

  “You do not understand—”

  “I do. Lisa says you saw her escape and go for help. You didn’t report it. That tells me you’re as much a victim as the women. But if you don’t trust me, Juan, I can’t help you.”

  “You cannot help me. I know of these people. They are dead in the soul. No one can help me, señor.” Fear burned in the depths of Juan’s eyes. “They are evil. Muy fuerte.”

  Very strong. “We’re stronger.”

  Juan shot Mark a loaded glance. “Then why is your woman in the back of this truck?”

  He had Mark on that one. “I made a mistake. I didn’t personally verify some information.” Not one door but two.

  “So you knew they were coming for her?”

  “I had strong suspicions her stepfather would do something. I didn’t know what, and I certainly didn’t expect this.” Not until Beth Dawson and his team had linked the tapes.

  “Her stepfather did this to her?” Juan made the sign of the cross. “Puede Dios proteger y perdonar.” May God protect and forgive. “How could he do such a thing?”

  Mark had wondered a million times how Dutch Hauk could do many of the things he’d done, but he lacked any answers. To stay sane, he’d taken a lesson from Annie and put those questions on the altar.

  Did she have any idea how much their phone conversations meant to him? His heart lurched. God, if she has to die, don’t let her die not knowing. Give me that much peace in all this, please. “So who is NINA threatening? You or your family?”

  Juan didn’t even pretend to be surprised. “Ambos. Me with death if I refuse to do exactly what they say without question, and if I fail to act, my wife and children,” his voice trembled as hard as his hands, “will be slaughtered.”

  “I’m sorry.” Mark tapped his earpod. “Roxy?”

  “I heard.” She exhaled on a rush that crackled.

  “Me too, bro.”

  “I never thought I would be involved in anything like this.” Juan’s trembling hands now shook on the steering wheel. “I am a decent man, Señor Taylor. A faithful Catholic my entire life—my wife and children too.”

  “So how did you get dragged into a NINA operation?”

  “I own a boat. It is docked at the marina on the coast east of the estate where I suspect the hombres are gathering to buy the women. I fear they have done so before. The men fly in from all over the world. I have ferried them from their seaplanes to the estate, though I did not know then why they were going there.” He glanced at Mark. “Masson has proscritos watching my family. I have four children. I had no choice.”

  Outlaws watched Juan’s family. “So when did you discover they were selling women at this estate?”

  “After Masson brought me to that store to join Frank—I am his relief driver—I learned there that their cargo was the women.” He lowered his gaze. “I got sick. I did not know what to do. Everyone at the marina knows about NINA. They are mala gente.”

  Bad people. “Muy mala gente,” Mark agreed.

  “A fellow fisherman once denied their wishes. We found his body in three parts. They targeted my family, señor. What else could I do?”

  “Got that too,” Roxy said into Mark’s earpod. “I believe him.”

  “He’s being straight up,” Joe said. “No doubt about it.”

  “What exactly were you supposed to do on this trip?” Mark asked Juan. “Just drive?” That didn’t work for Mark. Anyone could drive a truck. NINA had to have dozens of relief drivers.

  Juan changed lanes and passed a blue Toyota. When he eased back into the right lane, he answered. “Drive the truck when Frank asked, then after their event, I must ferry couples in my boat to their seaplanes. That is all I know, señor.”

  “So you don’t just suspect the women will be taken to Mexico, you know it.”

  “Masson has not said, but given what he told me, I would think nothing else. My boat is there.” Juan shrugged. “I assumed I would go to the same estate near my home, and he did not disagree. It is on the coast, so the hombres have easy access with their seaplanes. Customs does not interfere with NINA.”

  That wasn’t good news. “Where on the Mexican coast is this estate?”

  “Near Tampico.”

  “Anything else we should know?”

  “I have told you all I was told and what I make of it. Masson swore that once I have finished, I can return home and my wife and children will never know anything took place. They will suffer no harm.”

  “And you won’t be bothered again until next time.”

  “Sí.” Resignation slid over Juan’s face. “Until next time.”

  Mark understood Juan’s dilemma. With rampant corruption of those in authority and all NINA’s power and connections, Juan had been afraid for himself and his family, and no doubt he felt hopeless and lost. Who could he trust to help him?

  “Mark?” Roxy said.

  He tapped his earpod. “Go ahead.”

  “My office just phoned on my cell. We’ve nailed Gregory Chessman.”

  “About a year ago, I know.” He’d been in on that.

  “No, in this.”

  “But he’s in jail.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s also up to his crooked neck in this specific operation.”

  Chessman. Again. The news didn’t shock Mark, but it did concern him. If Chessman and NINA could pull off something of this magnitude from jail, what were they capable of doing outside it?

  “We’ve got his cell calls as leverage.”

  Mark watched the road. “So he’s helping you?”

  “He has been for a short while. He’s the source who told us there were other women involved and that they were random abductions.”

  That did surprise Mark. He propped an arm on the armrest. “I’m sure NINA will reward him well for that.”

  “They won’t know about it. Ever. We need him.”

  Interesting. Mark wouldn’t have selected Chessman as a likely candidate to turn on NINA.

  “We need personal information on Juan’s family to get them under our wing.”

  “Juan, I need your address and your family members’ names. Agent Savoy is arranging for their protection.”

  Juan measured Mark, then gave him the information. He relayed it to Roxy.

  “I pray to my heavenly Padre this is not a mistake,” he told Mark, his accent thick.

  “It isn’t. The FBI will secure your family and get them out of Masson’s reach. You can’t trust a man like Karl Masson to keep his word.”

  “I realize that. But I have additional concerns.” Juan slid Mark a level look. “Your people will secure my family. This will pass. And then your people will leave. We will return home, and for the rest of our lives, we must watch our shadows to stay safe. NINA will come back.”

  “Probably.”

  “What would you do?”

  Mark didn’t hesitate. “Put my family on my boat and disappear. Start over somewhere else.”

  “They will just come after me.”

  “Only if they believe you crossed them. Otherwise, they won’t. They have businesses to run.”

  “We’ll help Juan and his family relocate,” Roxy said. “Whatever we can do, Mark. He’s got my word on that.”

  Mark repeated the offer to Juan.

  He didn’t seem reassured by it. “Tell her to secure that aid now, sí usted por favor.”

  If you please.

  “Afterward, she could be fired for allowing the women to continue, no?”

  Roxy could be fired. It depended on the agreement her boss worked out with the Mexican authorities and, frankly, on how things turned out.

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah, Roxy?”

  “The field office just called in. Chessman is handling your substitution for Frank with his NINA contacts.”

  That wasn’t reassuring to Mark either. He didn’t trust Chessman. He’d helped put him in jail, and this was no time to give the man a chance to bury a knife in Mark’s back. “He’d so
oner kill me than help me.”

  “He’s got incentive. We’ll be okay.”

  Mark held his silence.

  Joe quizzed Roxy and then added his own assurance.

  Joe, Mark trusted. “Okay.”

  “Good.” Roxy took a deep breath. “Your code name is Bandit. The mission name is Shifter. There’s an authorization code, but Chessman doesn’t have it. Karl Masson is Frank’s point of contact. If he asks for the code, I’m afraid we’re done.”

  Mark didn’t know whether to pray that Masson would or wouldn’t ask for it. “So Chessman knows all about this operation, but he doesn’t know the authorization code?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t think he’s being honest with you.”

  “Bet on it. But what can we do?”

  Truthfully, not much. Mark frowned and looked out through the windshield.

  “Señor, I know the authorization code.” Juan swallowed hard, bobbing his Adam’s apple.

  Mark snapped his gaze to Juan. “How do you know it?”

  “Frank said it several times—every time Masson or another called him. Sometimes it was someone else. I do not know who. I did not hear names.”

  “And you remember it?”

  “Sí, I have a gift for the numbers. But I want my family safe and your FBI to handle this so we can stay in our home.”

  “Roxy?” Mark waited.

  “Everything in our power.”

  Mark nodded to Juan.

  “I’m trusting you, Señor Taylor.”

  “I know.”

  “Dios, protección por favor. Let me do the right thing.”

  “What did he say?” Roxy asked.

  “He asked God to protect him, if He pleased,” Joe answered.

  Tears brimmed in Juan’s eyes. “Alpha 263891.”

  “Amazing.” Roxy sounded breathless. “Write it down.”

  “He doesn’t need to, Roxy,” Joe said. “Mark’s got it.”

  Mark did have it. “Looks like we’re set. Now we just have to wait for Masson’s next call.”

  Juan checked his watch. “He will phone again at six thirty. When we get near Houston.”

  Mark hesitated to ask, but he was concerned about Lisa. “Everyone okay back there?”

  “Lisa is fine, Mark. We’re all fine.”

  His neck went hot. None of them were fine. They were all stressed to the max at what had been done to them, who had done it, and what was happening to them now. Stressed and scared to death something would go wrong. But they were thinking steel, and Lisa no doubt was praying her heart out. So was Mark. He couldn’t fail her. He couldn’t survive another Jane incident.

  On a promise and a prayer.

  Promptly at six thirty, Karl Masson called Frank’s cell phone.

  “Juan.”

  A shiver snaked up Karl’s back. “Why are you answering the phone?”

  “Did Señor Chessman not call you?”

  “No, he did not.”

  “He was supposed to call you.”

  “Where’s Frank?”

  “He got the virus like some of the cargo. Vomiting and the loose bowel. He was going to continue, but Señor Chessman said all the cargo would be sick and a driver would meet the truck in Orange.”

  “One did, I take it?”

  “Sí. Señor Frank left and the new driver is here now.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Señor Bandit.”

  “Put him on the phone.”

  “He wishes to speak to you,” Juan said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Identify yourself,” Karl said.

  “Bandit.”

  Already suspicious, Karl went into full-protection mode. “Mission?”

  “Shifter.”

  “Authorization code?”

  “Alpha 263891.”

  Karl weighed Bandit’s reaction. He hadn’t hesitated or paused. He was legit. Chessman could have spared Karl some serious anxiety if he’d bothered to phone him, but the man was in jail, and for the sake of appearances, some conventions had to be observed. He might not have had the opportunity.

  “Fine,” Karl told Bandit. “Drive south on Highway 77 to Victoria.” Then he gave explicit directions to a ranch. “It’ll take just over three hours. You’ll meet a pickup there and then get right back on the road.”

  Originally the plan called for the truck to stop overnight, but taking on added cargo in Jackson had eaten up too much of their time. The boss had allotted five hours for road emergencies, detours, and traffic. The cargo addition in Jackson had burned up four of them.

  “After you meet the truck, you’ll be heading south on Highway 77 again. If you’re told anything different, you stop and call me immediately.” Chessman wasn’t taking kindly to Karl’s promotion, and he wouldn’t be above setting him up for a failed mission to shove him out and Chessman back into place. “Need anything repeated?”

  “No sir. I’ve got it.”

  “Fine. Call in once you clear Victoria, and I’ll verify your instructions.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Karl ended the call and started to dial Chessman, but an incoming call diverted him. Dutch.

  The man was more trouble than the job was worth.

  Unless you need him to take the fall.

  The minute he determined he wouldn’t need Hauk, he’d activate a plan to take him out. Because the man annoyed him, but also for Annie. The bottom line was he liked her. She was a good woman with really bad judgment. But she deserved better than she’d gotten from Dutch.

  NINA won’t like it.

  He didn’t care. She reminded him of Angel. Angel hadn’t gotten a chance. Three short months and cancer claimed her. The kids went to live with her parents—he was on the road all the time. He lost everything that mattered to him: Angel and their kids. Seeing them a couple of times a year just wasn’t the same. No. If Annie survived, she would get a real chance. She’d earned it.

  Angel would have liked that.

  Even now, he missed her. A hard lump rose in his throat, sank deep into his hollow chest. His eyes burned, and he blinked hard and fast. He’d always miss her.

  The phone rang again. Grateful for the distraction, he thumbed the screen and answered. “Yeah?”

  Hauk prattled on for a long moment.

  Weary of listening to him, Karl interrupted. “She’s alive, but there’s been no change.”

  “And Lisa?”

  Karl paused a long second, then told Hauk what he most wanted to hear. “Suffering.”

  As Karl hung up, the reason he should kill Hauk became clear. Annie made a slave of herself to honor her God and to spare her daughter—something Karl’s parents never would have done for him. Even after Lisa left home and Annie could have escaped, she’d stayed and kept her vows. The woman had integrity, honor, and a love of family like his wife.

  And that likeness made Annie too good to be stuck with scum like Dutch Hauk.

  Karl shifted on his seat. No one had rescued Angel or him, but if Annie lived, he would rescue her. And he would kill Hauk for only one reason.

  Because he could.

  23

  T here’s the ranch.” Juan pointed through the window. “Why are you stopping here?”

  “That’s what the man said to do.” Mark pulled as far off the shoulder as he dared, then put the truck into Park. If they could get through this transfer, the women would be safe, and their part would be done.

  In a cold sweat, he adjusted the mic. “Joe, you prepared if the need arises?”

  “Always, bro.” A short pause, and Joe added, “Think steel.”

  “Ditto.” Mark typically would. But Lisa was in the back of the truck. Lisa. There was no steel in his arsenal when she was involved.

  A cloud of dust lifted on the road near the ranch house, and a truck like the one they were in came wobbling toward them. If there were women in the back of it, they were getting one rough ride.

  It seemed to take forever, but fin
ally the driver pulled onto the highway and stopped behind Mark. The back ends of the two trucks faced each other.

  Mark got out and walked to the rear.

  The other driver met him. They exchanged code and mission names, and Mark asked him for the authorization number before he could ask Mark. After he reeled it off, the man opened the rear door of his truck.

  Empty.

  Panic surged inside Mark. No way was he letting the women transfer vehicles. “What’s the plan?”

  “You give me the women and go.”

  “No.”

  The man was huge: broad shoulders, barrel chest. His face was pocked with scars, and his forearms, bare from rolled-up shirtsleeves, were riddled with thin white scars. Knife slashes.

  “Not my orders,” Mark said.

  “Just testing you, man.” He smiled and grabbed an ice chest from the passenger seat. “Here you go. Stash it in the back. I need to verify your cargo.”

  Mark opened the door and stepped aside.

  The other driver pulled out a piece of paper and glanced at the photos of Lisa, Gwen, Amanda, and Selene. “Who’s she?” He pointed to Roxy.

  “A bonus.”

  The driver frowned. “No bonus, man. You follow orders. That’s all you do.”

  “No choice. She spotted us at a stop and was trying to call the cops.” Mark squared off on the guy. “You want me to cut her loose?”

  “No.” He shot Roxy a glare that had her instinctively backing into the truck. “Report it next call.”

  “Will do.” He stared at the white cooler. “What’s in it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not to me. But if it’s explosives, I want to know.”

  “It’s not.” He sniffed.

  Cocaine. “Got it.” Mark reached for the door, then swung it shut.

  The other driver shut the back end of his truck. “Later.” He got into his truck and then drove away.

  Mark paused by his rear panel, out of the man’s sight. “Everyone okay, Roxy?”

  “Scared but okay. Better drive south as instructed. We could be under observation.”

  He hadn’t noted anyone following. “Okay.” He tapped the gas pedal, headed down the highway. “Joe, have we picked up a stringer?”

  “Negative, but I’ve got a weird feeling.”