“Roddy, can a burner phone be encrypted?” asked Kintrell.
“Not the ones you pick up at Wal-Mart, but SAT phones can be, and if he’s using one of those it’s probably well hidden,” said Roddy.
They discussed the matter for another twenty-five or thirty minutes finally deciding to keep the listening devices in place. As they left Roddy’s office Kintrell asked Roddy to burn a disk of the judge’s phone conversation.
“Roger that,” said Roddy, then, “Merry Christmas.”
“Huh?” said Kintrell, then remembered it was December 22nd, six days to the deadline. Congress was still debating the issue with no resolution in sight. As he was exiting Roddy’s office, he thought of something. “Roddy, if we can get the mole’s residence, do you think you could wire it up?”
“Sure. No problem,” said Roddy.
“Thanks again Roddy, and Merry Christmas,” said Kintrell.
***
Christmas came and went with no forward progress. Dixon and his assistant were in New York for Christmas, then returned to Philadelphia the day after. Dixon was staying at the Union League on Broad Street. The assistant, George Sheady, was staying at a Residence Inn at East Penn Square. Kintrell forwarded that information to Roddy.
Dixon called a meeting for December 27th at 8:00 AM to review what they had and see if anyone could add anything. Shortly after the meeting started, Kintrell stood and holding his phone up, said, “Sorry, I have to take this.”
He exited the office and keyed in Roddy’s number. When Roddy answered, Kintrell said, “Thanks for the information, Jim, and yes I’ll mention it to him. He’s here now so I should be able to get to him in the next three or four hours. If not, I’ll let you know,” then disconnected the call.
***
Roddy understood he’d have three, maybe four hours, to have the necessary equipment installed in Sheady’s room. He would also have the room searched for a SAT phone and if found, possibly cloned. He called Rosa Marquez who had been waiting for the go ahead. She had been registered under the name Helen Valasquez at the Inn. She was dressed in a women’s business suit and wearing a blonde wig and dark glasses. She carried a briefcase with her. She arrived at Sheady’s room, checked the hallway, then quickly entered the room using the master key card. The card was obtained from one of Roddy’s numerous contacts for five hundred dollars. She then thoroughly searched the room. The phone was stuffed in an extra pillow that was perched on a shelf in the bedroom closet. She quickly took the phone apart and placed the listening device. She then installed four devices around the small apartment in places she didn’t think the subject would look.
Before she exited the room she texted Roddy, waited fifteen seconds, then hummed a melody from the Star-Spangled Banner. A short time later she received a text from Roddy. “K” was all it said. She exited the room seventy-eight minutes after entering it, returned to her own room, changed back into jeans, tan cashmere turtleneck and leather jacket. She stowed the blonde wig and business clothes in her small carry-on. After wiping the room for prints, she left the Inn and headed for Suburban Station, where she would catch a train to Ardmore. Once there, she would retrieve her car and head back to Roddy’s, first making sure no one was following her.
Chapter 24
December 30th
With the deadline expiring two days earlier, the FBI, Secret Service, and Capitol Police were on heightened alert. The listening devices planted at the judge’s residence and Sheady’s room and SAT phone had yielded no new information. The investigation was stalled. Efforts to have electronic surveillance on the judge were nixed, not enough evidence to support a warrant.
Kintrell was antsy. Their efforts to rattle the judge, while turning up the spy in their midst, had yielded little else.
“I’m starting to think the enemy has discovered the listening devices,” said Kintrell.
“Maybe their plans have already been set and there is nothing else to say,” said Alvarez.
“Or maybe Sheady isn’t the only mole reporting to the judge,” said Kintrell.
“Well, the Congress and Senate are spread across the four corners of the globe for the holidays and supposedly, they’re all aware of the dangers they face and are supposedly protected. If anything happens, it probably won’t be till after the first of the year,” said Alvarez.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Kintrell. “It’s almost 7:00 PM and we’ve been at this since 6:30 AM. Maybe tomorrow we listen to the tapes of the judge’s for the last couple days. Maybe there’s something we missed. Let’s call it a day.”
***
Alvarez left the parking garage, not noticing the car that pulled out and followed her a discreet distance behind. She lived in a town house in Marlton, New Jersey, a bedroom community of Philadelphia, approximately thirteen miles from Center City. As she crossed the Delaware River via the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, the man in the car following her placed a call. As Alvarez headed over the bridge, she was thinking about the Jefferson quote that led them to the judge, and then she had a thought about the book that was possibly the key to the cipher. She called Kintrell, but it went straight to message. She left a message that she had a possible lead on the book used as the cipher. She would discuss it with him tomorrow.
***
Domingo’s phone vibrated.
“She’s on the bridge now, looks like she’s heading home, Jefe,” said the man.
“Bueno,” said Domingo.
Domingo and Jorge waited in a van that was parked a short distance from Alvarez’s residence.
Twenty-five minutes later Domingo received another call. “Turning into development now.”
“Bueno.”
Alvarez parked the car a short distance away from her front door. As she exited the car, she noticed a man coming toward her holding a pizza box and staring at a slip of paper. The man looked up as she approached, smiled, and looked back down at the slip of paper. Probably trying to find the address, she thought.
As the man drew even with her, she felt the presence behind her. As she turned toward the threat she tried to get to her weapon. The man with the pizza box then smashed her on the side of the head with a blunt object. Disoriented, she tried to move away when strong hands grasped her arms pinning them to her sides. The other man relieved her of the weapon and placed a cloth bag over her head as a van pulled up. She was then picked up and shoved into the side door of the van. Her hands were forced behind her and bound with plasti-cuffs as the van sped away. The van, followed by the trailer’s car, made a right turn out of the development and headed south on Tuckerton Road. The whole operation took no more than ten seconds and unfortunately, there were no witnesses.
When her senses returned Alvarez tried to take stock of her predicament. Maybe if she could get them to talk, it would give her something helpful. Her head was pounding and she was scared, terrified actually. She tried calming herself. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing how shaken she was.
“I hope you gentlemen realize that you have just kidnapped a federal agent and my colleagues will move heaven and earth to find me. You could spend the next thirty years behind bars.”
The bag covering her head muffled her words.
No response.
“At least tell me why I have been abducted.”
She was laying on her side and one of the men had his hand on her upper arm. She felt something close to her head. Through the bag she heard the voice faintly.
“Better you stay quiet, puta.”
The voice, full of menace, froze her. She wondered if they took her handbag or was it still lying on the street? What did they want? Did this have something to do with the investigation? Just a coincidence? The voice sounded Hispanic, maybe Mexican. What to do? She would stay quiet as directed. They hadn’t relieved her of the small Smith and Weston holstered high above her left ankle. They would probably find it if they patted her down when they got wherever they were going. They didn’t want her dead
or she would already be dead she reasoned. So what? Ransom? Couldn’t be ransom, she thought, as she came from humble beginnings. Sexual deviants? Shuddering at the thought she reasoned that such people don’t work in threesomes. The only thing she could come up with was that it had something to do with the investigation. She would bide her time and find a way out of this. No other option.
***
The van pulled into an isolated cabin outside the small village of Batsto, New Jersey, one hour and twenty-five minutes after she was abducted. The driver and the man in the back with her, exited the van, carefully observed the surroundings then the driver opened the side door and Alvarez was dragged out of the van, and forced into the cabin. She was moved to a small bedroom in the back of the cabin, forced down on the bed, her hands now secured to the metal frame of the military style cot with another set of the plastic restraints. They then looped a thick leather belt around her midriff. The leather belt had two holes which were lined up. A metal clasp with a loop on the top secured the leather belt tightly around her waist. A chain was then passed through the loop on top of the belt, and that was then padlocked to the metal frame of the bed.
“If you make noise, I will hurt you. Nod your head if you unnerstand, puta.”
She nodded her head. They still hadn’t discovered her ankle gun. The bad news was she couldn’t get to it, being restrained the way she was.
***
Kintrell called Alvarez back. After six rings it went into message mode.
After the beep, he said, “I’m home, call me.”
Domingo heard the sound coming from Alvarez’s handbag and dug out the phone. Caller ID showed someone named Kintrell. He didn’t know who that was but assumed it was either a lover or colleague. He also assumed that if he could get into the message program, he could not only find out who this Kintrell was, but also get a feel for how Alvarez sent messages—the abbreviations and short-cuts she used when texting. The phone was locked so he instructed Rojas to get the code that would unlock it.
Alvarez could hear the man approaching the bed.
“What is the phone code, puta?” said the man.
“I need water.” said Alvarez, “and I’m not a puta, gilipollas!”
The man chuckled at this, “Careful, nina.”
“Water, please.”
“First the code,” said the man.
She thought about it for a few seconds and decided she had no choice. “Four-six-seven-three-nine, now please, may I have some water?”
The man left the room and gave the code to Domingo who unlocked the phone and got busy with the messages. The man also mentioned to Domingo she wanted water and that she called him an asshole in Spanish. They both laughed a bit at this.
Domingo said, “Take her some water. But first tell her that you are going to remove the bag and blindfold her, and it would be very bad if she tried to look at you.”
The man returned to the bedroom and told her what to do. She complied. She held her eyes closed tightly as the man wound duct tape around her head and over her eyes. He then opened the water bottle and holding her head allowed her to swallow some water. The duct tape was uncomfortable but better than the bag. She could breathe better, and also hear better.
“What do you people want?” she said to the man.
“Shhh.”
She still had the gun. Maybe if they let her go to the bathroom, she could get her hands on it.
A few hours later she cried out, “Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.” Receiving no response, she said it again, louder this time. She heard the door open and the man approach.
“Turn over on your back. The only way you go to the bathroom is to go in a bucket and I watch the whole time.”
Mortified, she said. “No thanks, I’d rather go in my pants.”
“Suit yourself,” was the reply as the man left the room.
Domingo, meanwhile, got a feel for how Alvarez composed her messages. He then, in long hand, wrote out what he thought would pass for something she would say. He pocketed the note, said his goodbyes to his two friends and taking the phone with him, drove west towards Pennsylvania. He crossed into Philadelphia, then drove through the city to the Schuylkill Expressway, exiting at I-476. He then drove to the Pennsylvania Turnpike, eventually taking the Northeast Extension toward Allentown. Stopping at a rest area, he exited the car and moved behind the car where he couldn’t be observed. He pulled out Alvarez’s phone and texted the message to Kintrell, then removed the sim card from the phone, broke it into pieces, then smashed the phone with his heel. He discarded the pieces into the brush that bordered the parking lot. He then headed back to Philadelphia, arriving at his hotel ninety minutes later.
He sent a text to the judge: contained.
***
Kintrell read the message from Alvarez and immediately called his office.
“This is Agent Kintrell, Agent Alvarez has been taken by persons unknown. She’s now in the trunk of a late model Chevrolet, dark in color. She was abducted by two men, one tall and blonde. No description on the other one. She believes she is in Pennsylvania now, possibly heading north. Ping her phone immediately. I’ll get back to you as soon as I notify the Pennsylvania State Police.”
He then got in touch with the State Police and told them the same story. A BOLO was issued for a dark colored Chevy, two men, one possibly with blonde hair.
After hanging up with the State Police he called Dede, then Stryker. Dede said she would make the Hostage Rescue people aware of what went down.
Stryker was less diplomatic. “Those motherfuckers have crossed the line now,” mirroring what Kintrell was thinking.
Kintrell then called Judge Adams.
“Hello?”
“It’s personal now.” Kintrell wanted to say more but held himself in check and disconnected the call.
***
Alvarez’s phone couldn’t be pinged, but it was ascertained that her message to Kintrell originated from an area south of Allentown, PA. The message could have come from anywhere within a ten-mile radius of that particular tower.
Kintrell drove to the office. En route he called Stryker and asked him to meet him there. Once they were in Kintrell’s office, they discussed a course of action.
Kintrell put aside the rage he felt and the fear that Alvarez was hurt or dead and focused on the problem.
“I think we got to focus on Sheady now. We give him information and see if he calls the judge. If he uses the SAT phone, we’ll be able to hear both sides of the conversation,” said Kintrell.
“Does it seem odd to you that she was abducted, and she still had her phone? Would our guys make that kind of mistake?” asked Stryker.
“Damn it! You’re right, Norm. I’m so fucking pissed off, I can’t think straight.”
“Let me see the text,” said Stryker.
Kintrell brought up the message and gave the phone to Stryker.
The message read: been tkn 2 men one big blonde late mod chev, dark. Thk in pa hedg N.
Stryker studied the message. “So, they left her in the trunk, with her phone and her hands not shackled behind her back?”
Kintrell thought about it for a few seconds. “If the message is not on the level, the only thing I can think of is that they want us to think she is somewhere other than where she really is.”
“But you said the message definitely came from somewhere near Allentown,” said Stryker.
“One of the kidnappers may have driven that way to throw us off, then destroyed the sim card and ditched the phone?” said Kintrell.
“Where could she have been taken from?” asked Stryker.
“When she left the office, she was headed home. I doubt if they could have taken her on the open road or near our building. They must have grabbed her after she got home, which brings up another question. Would they risk driving back through Philadelphia? Stopping at a bridge toll plaza? If she was in the trunk and they did in fact stop at a toll booth, Lanny would scream bloody murder
and bang on the inside of the trunk to draw attention to herself. On the other hand, Lanny lives in Marlton, New Jersey which is not that far from some pretty rural areas,” said Kintrell.
“I say we see that Sheady gets the information and if he makes the call, we grab him, get him to a nice quiet place and squeeze the little prick,” said Stryker.
“Good plan,” said Kintrell.
Chapter 25
December 31st
Kintrell apprised the members of the task force about the abduction of Agent Alvarez, leaving out his suspicions that she wasn’t stashed in upstate Pennsylvania. He was heartened by the fact that they hadn’t killed her right off. If, as he strongly suspected, she was taken by the crew behind the killings, then there was some purpose in play that he was unaware of. If her abduction was unrelated to the killings, then she was in serious trouble. He knew of no reason why she would have been targeted. Her parents weren’t wealthy as far as he knew, and she never mentioned having any enemies that would go to such extremes. Another detail that stood out, she wouldn’t be an easy target. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. He had gone to Alvarez’s town house in the early morning hours and found that her car was there. No sign of any disturbance. The only thing he found was an empty pizza box which he brought back with him for fingerprint analysis. Later it would be found that the only prints on the box belonged to the employees of the pizza store. While he was in his office waiting to go to the meeting, he called the pizza shop where the box came from, only to find that they didn’t open till 10:00 AM.
As the meeting broke up, Agent Sheady approached Kintrell. “Agent Dixon wanted you to know that we’ll use all the resources available to find Agent Alvarez, that no stone will be left unturned till she is found.”
Termination Limits: Tom Kintrell Book 1 (Tom Kintrell Thriller Series) Page 16
