Ransom X

by I.B. Holder

  Chapter 13 The Location Section

  Director Robert Doorner sat in a dark briefing room. The shadow from a desk lamp cut across his face so that only his mouth and chin were visible to the other members of the committee that he was addressing. Director Doorner was all about straight lines. His suit was pressed at right angles on his strict instructions. His hair stood at attention in a short military cut, even the surface of his coffee was not disturbed at all as he picked it up with a rock steady hand.

  “Deputy Wilkes, I see one or two points of interest in this report, but I certainly do not understand why this warrants a top level meeting. There is nothing in these pages is that I would call a solid lead.” The frustration of a father crept into his voice as he addressed the assembly. ‘That goes for everyone at this table. If you are all presenting your best men’s best work, you’d better think about a career change, gentlemen. This matter is not about my daughter, it is about the security of the greatest nation on this planet and if that is compromised-”

  Deputy Wilkes cleared his throat. “It is Legacy’s contention that they are in a remote location.”

  “How the hell does that help us?”

  “It speaks to the frame of reference of their leader. He feels comfortable in outlying areas.” Wilkes took a drink of water. “It is also postulated that there is another victim out there, the first victim of this crime. If we can find her, we may have better information to follow. Legacy is convinced that they made their biggest mistakes with her.”

  “And will any of this find my daughter in 10 hours or less?”

  All the people in the room understood the time reference. The sites from which the Vinyl Men were broadcasting had posted that Tracy’s ransom had been met ahead of time, and they announced the day and time of the next “initiation”. It was the point in the “show” when the two girls met for a short time. It was a personal and psychological touch that blurred the line between victim and captor. It was the last chance for the outgoing victim to make the money for her ransom and, as such, had a truly disturbing quality.

  The previous initiations had been the worst combination of one of the girls at her most innocent and the other at her most desperate. There were so many ugly moments with this case but initiation was the only act of pure betrayal. It was the only sex act that all of the previous victims singled out in their reports. It tore them apart to do to another unsuspecting person what had been done to them, to take away the dignity that had been taken away from them. Doorner wanted with every fiber of his being to be able to save his daughter from the lifelong curtain that the experience would bring with it.

  “I need information that gives results now. You’re wasting my time – this is your guy Wilkes, your brilliant guy. What’s his timetable with – this?” He picked up the report with a sweep of his hand. “How can all of this lead to an arrest in twelve hours?”

  Wilkes shifted in his chair. “He’s working in a time window of two weeks. He wants to be there when the next girl is abducted, get everyone home safely.” Wilkes knew that even with the cushion of his daughter’s safety, there were going to be expectations hitting the wall, hard.

  Doorner seethed at the news. “Two weeks is acceptable to your man?”

  An officer chimed in from along the table. “We’re working on a timetable of hours not days.”

  Doorner stood in a quick motion. “That was the message of yesterday’s briefing.” He made a straight line for the door. He paused after he’d crossed the threshold then leaned back into the room. It was a startlingly awkward diagonal for the man.

  “Does he believe in his timetable, agent?” he asked.

  Walker nodded. “To my best knowledge, he believes he can get them at the next abduction.”

  “Agent Legacy’s reports come directly to my office – before they’re proofread – before they’re typed.” A stutter step into the room made him look suddenly older that his years. “I don’t like what he says, but I recognize that he’s telling me what he believes and not what I want to hear.”

  It was like the entire briefing room was empty the second he left. He was a man of great substance, and it was only fitting that he left emptiness behind him.

  Agent Bailey took a long last draw on a gold tipped cigarette. He crushed it out in the ashtray on his desk, where the remnants of other brands littered the bowl. Every cigarette was a reminder of how unique he was. What a delightful stagnant smell to the room, he thought. His control over his environment was a point of great pride. That reminded him that the phone would be ringing soon. His wife always called him before he left the office to remind him to return the baking pan that he took to work that day. Today it was a honey walnut crème baked into vanilla marble cake. He’d eaten half of the pan before it became part of the secretary’s pool.

  He wished he’d saved an extra piece for after his last cigarette of the day. The cream would have captured and clotted the nicotine in his throat, and that sounded luxurious, toxic and delicious.

  The phone rang. Agent Bailey picked up the phone and cradled it against his ear. He spoke in a lazy tone.

  “Deputy Bailey.” He said.

  An official voice greeted him. “This is the special assistant to Director Doorner.”

  Bailey forced down a gulp of saliva, and then steadied himself in his reply. “You talk like I should know you, son.”

  “The director has an unorthodox request.” The tremor of his voice had no extra breath for distraction. The cadence was stiff, and unquestioning. “He wants to set up an internal surveillance.”

  “On who?” Bailey played the information gap game; he liked forcing people to fill in all the blanks. Especially when they were reluctant to do so.

  “Agent Legacy.”

  “Your office sets him on its top case and yet you simply don’t trust him. That’s an odd dichotomy wouldn’t you say so special assistant?” He waited for the name.

  “Ford.” Bailey could practically hear the release valves strain as the pressure built between the man’s ears “He doesn’t want to disturb the agent’s techniques but he wants information updates on a daily basis.”

  “Do you know why we don’t do this kind of thing to our agents?” A silence on the other end of the phone, the assistant was certainly expecting a short conversation with blind compliance. Bailey didn’t like matching expectations. ‘They know all of our methods. And the smart ones have them embedded in their subconscious – way below the radar of the average agent’s ability to deceive it. I am one of the most undeniably average directors in this country and I’m telling you that this tactic will not work on Legacy unless you find someone smarter than him to carry it out.”

  “You’re authorized to go outside the playbook on this one.”

  “What kind of promotion can I offer an agent for her cooperation?”

  “What do you think it would take?”

  Bailey leaned back in his chair and grinned to himself. He felt as though he was at his best dictating terms. “Unprecedented, meteoric rise in status.”

  “That is acceptable.” He disconnected.

  Bailey shifted in the chair annoyed that there was nothing sticky or sweet to pass his lips, because it was looking like a long night on the job.