Either the temperature was getting hotter outside, or he was just on fire inside, but he was sweating right through his T-shirt. He bumped up the air conditioning and made some turns in what he thought was the direction of the FedEx store. The only thing Sam mentioned about Avenida Patriotismo was that it was close to the hotel. He’d have to work to find it from there. But he was going to have to do that very carefully, because that area would be on high alert for him since he’d been staying at the hotel. He wasn’t sure who knew what, so he had to assume his pursuers knew everything.
For the moment he’d lost the police cars. As he drove through the busy streets of Mexico City, he knew that one of his next priorities would have to be acquiring a different car. As he made his way toward the hotel, he scouted the area looking for potential marks. Having to carry the girl to the car he was about to steal was going to make things more difficult. Whoever he took it from was going to see her and then relay that to the police, eventually blowing his cover with that car too. But it would at least give him enough time to get his bag and put some distance between himself and the law.
King spotted a small grocery store and turned into the parking lot. He crept down the lane, spotting a car pulling into a space. He was happy to see that it was a man driving. King didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all a woman. He put his turn signal on like all was normal and pulled his rental to a stop. As the man shut off his car and opened his door, King pulled his knife and his pistol from the glove box. He’d stashed them there because he couldn’t take them into the airport. He then exited his car, opened the back door, and stepped toward the man who looked to be somewhere in his fifties.
“Señor?” King called out.
The man turned toward him.
“Tengo un problema,” King said as he pointed back at his car. It was one of the few things he knew in Spanish.
The man looked over King’s shoulder at the rental car, but before he could respond, King already had an iron grip around the man’s left wrist and the back of his shirt. The man’s car keys dropped out of his hands. King moved quickly enough that the surprise kept the man from putting up a fight. A couple of steps later, King stuffed him into the backseat of the rental car and shut the door. The man found his voice and began screaming in panic. King reached over to the door and hit the lock button. Then he reached across the console, undid the girl’s seat belt, exited the car, then pulled her out the driver-side door. When he shut the door, the man’s shouting was muffled. King glanced around the parking lot and found that no one had really noticed. The street noise behind him had obscured a lot of the commotion.
King reached down and picked up the keys to his new silver Hyundai Elantra. Then he went around and gently placed the girl back into the same position as before: seat belt on, lying on her side. He took one last look around. Not a lot of people in the parking lot. The block down the road looked familiar; he knew the hotel was just around the corner. The man was pounding on the rear passenger door of the rental car. King got in his Elantra and pulled out of the parking lot. He was a ghost again. For the moment, at least.
King turned left, then eyed the street signs as he passed through intersections, until he finally found Avenida Patriotismo. A few blocks down on his right, he saw the familiar FedEx sign and breathed a sigh of relief. Step one in the million it was going to take to clear his name was in his sights. His only hope was that the next few steps would go just as clean.
He had no doubt they wouldn’t. Nothing was easy, especially when a man is on the run.
Chapter Six
“You can’t keep me here, Robert,” Sam said to Director Lucas. “You’re treating me as if I’m some sort of prisoner!”
Sam Harrison’s sharp British accent cut through the chatter in the break lounge at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. The large room was filled with a few couches, a couple of round dining tables, and two agents placed there to watch her.
The dark-haired, fifty-year-old Director Lucas stared at her with a determined look. “Sam, you’re in a break room. You’re hardly being treated like a prisoner.”
“Then I’m free to go?”
“Just look at this from my perspective, Sam.”
Sam placed her hands on her hips—defiant, but listening.
“There is concrete video evidence that King put Senator Terry McKinley’s daughter in the trunk of his rental car and drove off. Until we find him, I can’t let you contact him. In the eyes of the law you are already an accomplice for giving him a heads-up before we took your phone.”
Sam took a deep breath. She was trying to hold back, but she was seething. No one person had done more to protect the United States of America in the last decade than Alexander King. It was insulting—no matter the evidence—that Director Lucas was considering this. Thinking about it made her boil over.
“The law? Are you serious?” Sam jabbed her finger in Lucas’s direction. “All the things you have us do for you that is outside the law, and you want to tell me by law I’m an accomplice? To what? A complete farce? You know X would never do this!”
“I understand where you’re coming from, Sam. But no matter what I do or don’t believe about King, I have to do this the right way. One of the most important men in this country is missing a daughter, and I watched King take her with my own eyes.”
“Robert, this is not 1997. You know full well how deep fake videos work, and how excellent their quality can be. Video evidence no longer means a thing.”
“Okay, Sam. I just need you to contact him, and tell him to come in. And to bring Brittany McKinley back safely with him. King ran from the police a moment ago. How does that not make him guilty.”
“Don’t play stupid with me, Director Lucas. You know he can’t just come in with evidence that you believe of him taking her. Come on! He’ll have to clear his name first, or no one else will. He’s easily expendable because he’s not even supposed to exist.”
“First off, watch how you talk to me.”
Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Second, if he’s innocent, he needs to bring her in. He knows we’ll find who did this if he didn’t.”
“Bullshit!” Sam had reached capacity. “Need I remind you what happened when a few years back, then Director of the CIA, William Manning, was trying to have Xander killed? Do you not remember that? Well, X does. So forgive all of us if at the moment there is no one for him to trust.”
Director Lucas took a deep breath and walked a circle in thought before returning back to her. “Listen, I get it. Just call him, tell him to drop the girl so one of ours can pick her up—”
“You do not get it at all, Robert. Xander doesn’t know who he can trust. So he certainly isn’t going to chance that the innocent girl he’s been stuck with gets put in the wrong hands. You—you’re acting like you’ve never been in these situations before. You know how this works and how Xander operates. What is going on?”
Just then the door to the break room busted inward.
“Is this your traitor, Robert?” A silver-haired man with a red face and a three-piece suit came walking toward them. “Her and her scumbag double agent who has my daughter?”
Sam’s blood pressure rose to a record level. She nearly knocked Director Lucas over trying to get to the man in the suit. It was one thing to call her a traitor, but calling King a scumbag double agent wasn’t going to fly, no matter who this man was.
“You’d better watch your mouth!” Sam felt herself being pulled backward. The two agents had moved in to make sure things didn’t get physical.
“And she’s not even American?” the man said. “I should’ve known! Where’s my daughter?”
Director Lucas stepped in between them. He looked back and gave Sam the evil eye. She knew then why Robert was being different about this case. Senator McKinley must have been applying a tremendous amount of pressure. That was evident by the senator’s personal trip to Langley just to see Robert.
“Senator McKinle
y, no one here is a traitor. I told you not to come down here and that we were handling this.”
“Handling this? Is that a joke? My daughter got stuffed in the trunk of a car in a foreign country, and you don’t know where the man who did it is. Is that how you’re handling it?”
Robert looked up at his agents. “Please take Sam to my office. I’ll be there shortly.”
The agents nodded and tugged at Sam.
“Wait a moment,” Sam said. She wasn’t very good at the soft approach, but she would do anything for Xander, so she was going to give it a try.
Robert nodded for them to wait.
Sam cleared her throat. “Senator McKinley, I presume?”
The red in the man’s face had subsided a bit. He nodded to her without words.
“I understand this all must be devastating. I can’t even imagine. But I assure you, even though it doesn’t seem like it, you are actually fortunate in this situation right now.”
McKinley bowed up his chest. “Fortunate? Are you kidding me?!” He looked at Director Lucas. “She serious?”
Sam answered before Director Lucas could. “Your daughter is in the hands of someone who would die before he let her get hurt. I don’t know how or why it happened this way, but I promise you that is the case.”
“Tell me where he is right now!” McKinley shouted.
“I know as much as you,” Sam said, walking toward the door. The agents quickly followed. “He’s somewhere in Mexico City. If the entire world hadn’t been called to attention, and the world police hadn’t taken a stance against him, you would already have your daughter back.” Sam peered at Director Lucas. “But since they have, X has no choice but to stay hidden. You’ve pushed him into those shadows. Now you’ll have to wait until he’s ready to come out.”
“Bullshit, Robert.” McKinley turned the conversation back to Director Lucas. “King used his passport to enter the country from Mexico City into John Wayne Airport in Orange County, California, two days ago. The next time he showed up was that video from Mexico City a couple of hours ago. It’s him. And if you don’t want to find him, that’s fine. I’m already on it.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Robert said.
Sam stood in shock as Senator McKinley stared at Director Lucas. She couldn’t believe her ears that Xander’s passport had been used in California. “Robert,” she interrupted, “Xander isn’t even traveling under his own passport. Hasn’t for over two years. You know this, and you know why. This is some sort of setup.”
“Both of you, quiet for a moment.” Robert looked at McKinley. “Sam’s right, Alexander King would never have used his own passport. And how did you even know that? If you have information you aren’t sharing . . . Senator, this is serious. You can’t keep information from us.”
“You are the CIA, Robert. How do you not already know what I know?”
“Because you’ve apparently gotten a head start and hired someone else. Who the hell is it? And where the hell are they? Tell me now or we have an even bigger problem.”
“This is my daughter!” McKinley took two steps forward and stuck his finger in Director Lucas’s face. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to get her back. Whatever it takes!”
“Not from jail you won’t.” Director Lucas took a step back, then took a deep breath to let himself cool off. “I’m sorry, sir, but there are a lot of things at play here. You have to give me all the information you have. And I need it now. You might be putting an innocent agent and your daughter in even more danger.”
Senator McKinley took a breath and relaxed his stance. He looked over at Sam, then back to Robert. Sam knew she had heard all she was going to hear.
Director Lucas took the hint. “Sam, please wait in my office. I’ll be right with you, and we’ll start to sort this out.”
“Okay. But I have to say this,” she said to McKinley. “If you’ve hired someone, you need to tell me. You’re only adding danger to your daughter’s situation. X will take care of her. But not if he doesn’t know who’s after him.”
“Yeah?” The Senator’s look turned arrogant. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Seven
King drove about a mile away from the FedEx store before pulling over into an alley. There were some delivery trucks unloading restaurant supplies just up ahead, but for the most part he was alone. He checked the pulse of the girl beside him. She had been out for quite some time, and he wanted to make sure his situation hadn’t gone from bad to worse. Her heart was still beating. He couldn’t really make a good next move until she came to and filled him in on all of her important information.
The sun was at full blast now, but the shadows in the alley made him feel a little better about taking a moment to make sure he had what he needed. He chose this alley in particular because it was right next to a convenient store that he hoped would have a backup burner phone to purchase. But he couldn’t do it himself. The cameras would all be watching for him now, so that was another reason he needed the girl conscious.
He unzipped the black backpack he’d picked up at FedEx and began rummaging through it. He pulled out the Glock 19 and the spare magazine and set them on the floor of the car. He took out the ball cap and put it on. It was always good for more cover. He pocketed the spare Chris Reeve Sebenza framelock knife and then pulled out his new passport. It was American, and his fresh identity was Thomas Crown. He chuckled as he knew it was one of Sam’s favorite movies but also her play back at him for his last identity request of James Bond. There were several other goodies inside, and after he pulled out the burner phone, his hand found the last things at the bottom. Two airline bottles of bourbon. Sam always put them inside the go bag for him. Her way of saying hello in his native tongue. He would save them for later when hopefully he could enjoy them.
King opened the burner phone and powered it on. Normally there was nothing on the phone but the contact information for Sam’s current burner. However, this time, when it powered up, he had a text message.
“That’s a first,” he said aloud.
King pressed the button opening the message. It was from Sam. She’d thought ahead before she’d called him with her other phone earlier. And this message might just prove to be a lifesaver.
As soon as you input these numbers into your new burner phone you’re going to go get right now, get rid of this one. They’ll be combing this phone and a message was sent to your number. So toss it. If you don’t already know, the girl they say you’ve kidnapped is California Senator Terry McKinley’s daughter. I wish I had more info, but just learning about this didn’t give me time. If I can’t help you, call Dbie first thing. I’m leaving current contact info with her for our former Team Reign members. Hopefully one of them can help. X, I’ll be doing all I can to find out who has set you up, but I’m not sure Director Lucas will let me get away with anything. I’m calling you right now. They are already here to make sure I’m not helping you. Call Dbie from the new burner. Her phone will not be traceable. She’s your only lifeline. 555-245-2112.
King closed the text message, entered Dbie’s phone number, and pressed call. Dbie Johnson was his and Sam’s resident tech wizard. She wasn’t on CIA payroll, or anyone else’s, for that matter. Sam had been paying her full-time money under the table to be ready for just such an instance. Dbie was their best-kept secret.
“Sam?” Dbie answered.
“No, it’s X.”
“X! How come you never call me when you’re not in trouble?”
“Perks of your job, I guess. Can you fill me in?”
Dbie went right in. “Brittany McKinley was taken from a nightclub in Orange County, California, two days ago. Her friend’s statement to the police was that one minute they were partying and the next she woke up on the floor of some abandoned house, Brittany nowhere in sight.”
“Any video around the nightclub show anything?” King said.
“The police are being tight lipped, so I hacked the DVR of the nightclu
b’s camera system. I just finished combing through it. I couldn’t see where the two girls were drugged, but the place was packed. And there was a huge fight, so it muddied everything. I found them staggering out into a black sedan. I’m getting ready to run the plates, but I’d bet everything I’ve got that the car was stolen.”
“Why?”
“Well, if whoever is doing this is good enough to make a video showing you putting her in your trunk when you didn’t actually do it, and using your passport at John Wayne Airport, they probably didn’t miss that detail on the car.”
King was in shock. “Wait, what? My passport? As in Alexander King?”
“Yep. The ghost of clandestine past is back, and everyone in America—well, the world—knows you’re alive.”
“But it wasn’t me.”
“But it was you to the millions who’ve watched the now-trending video and are following the story. This is a conspiracy theorist’s dream, X. People are eating this agent-come-back-to-life story up. Especially since you were in the public eye so much at the Kentucky Derby a few years back.”
Even as Dbie said it, he felt as though it was someone else who’d lived that life. It seemed as if it was a hundred years ago when he’d had the freedoms of civilian life.
“Shit,” King said.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. That video is good too. Done by a real pro. If I didn’t know you, I would totally think you were guilty.”
“Thanks, Dbie.”
“You got it,” she said, matching his sarcasm. “What should we do now?”
“When’s the last time you talked to Sam?”
Alexander King Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 47
