by Ty Patterson
‘Yeah. And we monitored her ever since she pinged her radar. But she isn’t involved. Not in Cali’s disappearance.’
‘You know that for sure? How?’ Beth pressed her.
Not involved in Cali’s disappearance. Meghan picked on that and answered before Burke could.
‘You’ve hacked her emails, all her communication, haven’t you? You bugged her home. Probably placed optics too. That’s how you knew we were here. That’s how you’re sure she had nothing to do with Cali.’
‘You two want to join the FBI?’ Burke side-stepped Meghan’s reply with a smile.
‘It’d be a cold day in hell,’ Beth snorted. ‘We’ve turned down the director. Several times.’
‘Lian’s involved in something, though. Has to be. There’s a reason high-flying Sarah Burke is tracking her,’ Meghan looked searchingly at the Special Agent in Charge, not wishing to let her off the hook till they had answers.
Burke bit her lip for a moment and looked from one twin to the other. ‘What the heck,’ she said finally. ‘You’re both security cleared. Way higher than the clearances I have, the way Broker tells it.’
Broker was right. All the Agency operatives had access to the most sensitive intel and classified information. They had to, to be effective.
‘Lian’s dad was connected to the Triads. You know–’
‘We know of the Triads,’ Meghan cut short Burke’s elaboration.
‘Right. The father’s connection went right to the top of one of the largest Triad gangs. The 14K. We discovered the connection only after we’d hacked her emails.’
Meghan whistled softly and considered the implications. The 14K was big in Asia. It was growing in Europe and North America. It was one of the most secretive gangs in the gang universe.
No wonder Burke’s buzzed about this. She deals with special cases. She’s got a possible in on the 14K. This’s as special as it gets.
‘Is Hattexon a front for the gang?’
‘Nope. It’s a legit firm. Lian’s work with them is all above board. She’s not involved with the gang either. In fact she was persuading her dad to give up all gang activity. Her father was involved in people smuggling-’
Meghan cut her off again, this time with a hand wave. ‘Not wishing to be rude, Sarah, Lian and the 14K are no longer of interest to us, not if Lian or the Triad gang had no role to play in Cali’s disappearance.’
‘What of Cali?’ she persisted with her questioning.
Burke’s professional mask came on again. ‘You know the status on that. Still missing. Thought to be killed by Cain. That’s a NYPD investigation.’
Beth kicked at the SUV’s tire once, twice, and with a last forceful kick, got inside and looked straight ahead while Meghan wheeled out of the hotel. Back to the airport to hand over the wheels.
Then to board the Gulfstream and head home. With nothing to show for traveling three thousand miles and pursuing the only thin lead they had.
Burke had left them earlier, with her agents in tow, after a promise to keep them abreast of any development.
‘Frickin’ waste,’ Beth stared moodily as a bare-chested skateboarder whizzed past her window, sucking from a drink in his hand. He waved at the twins. They ignored him.
‘Look at the bright side,’ Meghan tried to cheer her up. ‘We’ll be leaving this blue sky and sunshine behind, before you deck the next surfer dude who approaches you.’
The twins loved visiting California. It was cheerful. It was upbeat. It was different from New York.
However, it wasn’t home.
Zho followed the sisters to the airport and watched them disappear inside its deep recesses. His phone rang after forty-five minutes - confirmation that the twins had boarded a private jet – and on cue, a silvery airplane rose above the airport’s buildings and reached for the sky.
Zho had eyes on the twins in New York. He had come close enough to overhearing them discuss their plans to fly to Palo Alto. It had been a simple matter to follow them on a different flight. The 41S wasn’t the biggest gang in the country. It wasn’t the smallest either and it had resources. One of those resources was a private jet.
He had followed the sisters in Palo Alto, had seen them case Lian Cheng Vaughn’s home, and had watched the FBI agents surround them. He had snapped pictures of the agents, particularly of the female one. He followed them to the twins’ hotel and it was there that his luck ran out.
Hanging around in the hotel would have been too conspicuous. He hadn’t gotten close enough to use any surveillance device. He didn’t know what was being discussed indoors, however he could make a guess.
He called Peng Huang from the airport parking lot, his eyes on the jet till it merged with a cloud.
Peng Huang cursed for a while and then made his call to Hong Kong, to the connector, who made the third call.
The man in Beijing fired off questions rapidly. What was the impact of this development? Was the FBI woman a threat? Was everything on track?
Don’t know. Don’t know. Yes, were the answers.
The Beijing man barked an order. Find out about any possible impact and about the FBI agent. It eventually reached Zho.
Amongst many other things, Zho was good at finding out answers.
Chapter Sixteen
Meghan stopped abruptly when she entered the office, at the sight of the man stretched out on the couch.
He was lean, brown-haired, and had his eyes closed as he lay casually on one of their multi-hued couches.
‘What…Oh!’ Beth approached the man and stood arms akimbo over him. ‘He’s sleeping,’ she mock whispered loudly.
Meghan grinned and went to the small kitchen to brew coffee for the three of them. They both knew the man wasn’t sleeping. Even if he was, he could spring to alertness in the blink of an eye, ready to face any threat.
Over coffee, the twins took turns breaking down the entire case to Zeb, the brown-haired man. He listened without interrupting and when they had finished, had a single question. ‘Is Burke going to tell the parents?’
‘Yeah,’ Beth replied. ‘We went nuclear when she broke it to us, but she had her reasons. She’s asked us to be there when she briefs Cali’s folks. I have a feeling they won’t be as understanding.’ She looked at her wrist and rose abruptly. ‘We need to go. Right now. She’ll be at the Minters’ in forty-five minutes.’
‘Shall I come along?’ Zeb called out at the departing backs.
‘Nope. You keep out of this. Percy hired us, not you,’ Meghan tossed over her shoulder.
Zeb raised his hands in surrender. ‘Just asking.’
‘And you’ve been told,’ Beth’s voice floated back at him as the sisters entered the elevator.
Grace and Jack Minter went through a gamut of emotions as they heard Burke reveal Cali’s identity; Jack stood red faced in anger and paced the living room when she walked them through the FBI’s investigation and actions.
‘You never thought to tell us? Her parents? All these years and not one of you had it in you to inform us?’ he yelled and brushed off Percy’s attempts to calm him down. He glanced once at his wife and her tears spurred him on. ‘You have any idea how this feels?’
‘No,’ he roared when Burke opened her mouth. ‘Don’t speak. Don’t talk. You’ve said enough. Get out of my house and don’t come back till you’ve found my daughter.’
‘Why’re you two still here?’ he turned his fire on the twins when Burke left. ‘We hired you to find my daughter…all you’ve got is jackshit.’
He pointed a stubby finger at the door, ignoring Percy and Grace’s protestations, and slammed the door behind the sisters.
Can’t fault him. His world just got rocked. Can’t fault Burke either. Undercover work has its constraints. Meghan looked at her reflection in the polished panel of the elevator as it took them down to street level. She had her game face on. Next to her stood her sister, clutching her jacket tightly around her even though it was a warm day.
Beth di
dn’t have her game face on. She was pale, her green eyes large in her face.
‘You okay?’ Meghan asked her reflection.
Beth moistened her lips and attempted a smile. ‘There’s an upside to this.’ The smile became a laugh at Meghan’s disbelieving expression. ‘We could’ve still been in Boston, living the corporate life.’
The sisters once had a digital agency business in Boston and had blue chip clients on their rolls. The work was steady, the money was good, it was also mind numbingly boring.
Then Zeb had happened. Selling their agency and joining Zeb had been an easy decision to make. Convincing Zeb had been harder, but he’d come round to it. ‘You’re not going to stop pestering me, are you?’ he had smiled ruefully when they had pitched to him for the millionth time.’
‘Nope,’ Beth had replied saucily and that had been the last straw.
Meghan followed Beth out of the elevator, out of the small lobby to the street where Burke was waiting for them.
Burke was pale too, but her eyes were steady, as was her voice. ‘I called Pizaka and Chang and updated them. They had a few choice words for me,’ she shrugged. ‘It comes with the territory. I told them to expect fireworks the next time they spoke to the Minters.’
A cruiser raced past, its light bar flashing, its siren scattering traffic like leaves in a storm. ‘We had long discussions with Cali, about telling her folks. About not telling them. We thought it was best to keep them in the dark. What you don’t know…this wasn’t the first undercover assignment for Cali. She was a seasoned agent. Experienced.’
She wants us to understand. She’s presenting the case she wanted to make to the Minters. ‘Burke? Sarah?’ Meghan interrupted her.
‘We understand,’ she said softly when Burke halted the rush of words and looked at her.
The FBI agent licked her lips, blinked her eyes and glanced away. Meghan thought she saw a trace of moistness in them and reached out a comforting hand. It didn’t get to Burke’s shoulder.
Meghan’s cell phone, in her jeans, vibrated. A text message. She was pulling it out when a sudden squeal of tires caught her attention. A Ford Explorer came to a screeching stop, inches away from their ride. A Chevy jammed close behind it. Doors opened and several men spilled from their interiors.
Six. Meghan counted swiftly as she moved back instinctively, spreading out, opening space between herself and Beth, between herself and Burke.
Not FBI. These are trouble.
The six men fanned out and approached them, walking slowly, confidently. The pavement behind the women had emptied, as if sensing trouble. There wasn’t anyone in sight behind the men. They owned the pavement and had the look of men who would soon own the women too.
Two at either end have clubs. Two in the middle have chains. Or something like that. The two others are reaching for guns.
Meghan assessed without conscious thought, her mind readying her body for combat. She flicked her eyes sideways at her sister and Burke. They were ready. Beth’s eyes told her what she needed to know.
‘FBI. STOP RIGHT THERE,’ Burke called out in a strong voice. Gone was the paleness. Gone was the moisture in her eyes.
The approaching men didn’t stop. One of them said something to the others. They laughed. A club thwacked in a palm. It sounded like a gunshot.
Four of them peeled away from the gunmen and came forward. The gunmen stopped, their arms to their sides, their handguns dangling casually, pointing downward.
Three.
Meghan felt her sister shift imperceptibly. Beth had read Meghan’s body language. Correctly.
Two.
To their left was their ride. Behind them was Burke’s vehicle and behind it was a line of parked cars.
To their right was a short stretch of pavement after which lawns and gardens started. A waist high, neatly trimmed hedge was closest to them on that side.
One.
Meghan took a running step forward and sailed in the air and over their ride. Beth leapt in the opposite direction and went over the hedge. Burke fell flat on the pavement, rolled twice and went under her ride.
Meghan landed lightly, crouched beneath the window line and sprinted forward, slowing only when she came to the Explorer. She bent swiftly and took stock.
Six pairs of feet were visible. Yelling and shouting was audible. There was enough clearance between the Explorer and concrete. One of those vehicles with oversized wheels.
She zipped her jacket tight, her Glock sliding into her palm, and crawled beneath the vehicle. Two pairs of feet remained close to her. Four others went in pursuit of her sister and Burke.
Two will search beneath and behind the vehicles. Two will go after Beth. Two will remain on the pavement.
She rolled from beneath the Explorer, left hand on concrete, right leg powering her body up, the Glock steady in her right arm. So far, so good.
One of the men moved suddenly and all Hell broke loose.
He shoved his companion away, whirled to face her, his gun arm coming up. He triggered. Too early as the shot went wide over Meghan’s head.
She dropped to the pavement. His gun started to follow her. The second man was turning around. His gun was coming up.
First one. Most immediate threat.
She lined him up. Her sight moving on him, focusing on his face. She ignored the second man. Squeezed gently and the first gunman fell back as if punched in the face.
Her barrel turned an inch. The second man’s face came into view. Sweat pouring down his face. Eyes narrow and intent.
No time to aim.
She squeezed again and her shot missed the shooter’s shoulder by a whisker. It was enough to deflect his aim as his shot thudded into concrete and threw fragments into her face.
She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch when a piece embedded into her left eyebrow. She squeezed again and found the hood’s right shoulder.
Another squeeze and his thigh burst into red. He fell, his gun clattering beside him. She rose cautiously. A glance back. No one behind her.
She approached the shooter, angling away from him, made sure he was out of the fight, and kicked his gun away.
She stretched to her full height and her tunnel vision disappeared. The street was still empty of life but for the two hoods on the ground.
There was no sign of Beth. Nor of Sarah Burke.
Chapter Seventeen
Beth rolled behind the direction of her leap, figuring the hoods would split up, acting in a pincer move, one going to the front of her, one behind her.
The hedge was thick and lush green, cutting off any visibility of the street. The lawn she had landed on had an inch and a half of soft grass, deadening her fall. The houses behind were still; no doors or windows slammed open. No heads popped out in alarm.
Her Glock was in her holster…no it wasn’t! She searched around frantically and spotted it several feet away, where it had fallen when she had landed on the lawn. She scrambled around desperately for any other weapon, anything to create surprise, to increase the odds in her favor.
Her eyes lighted on an object just beyond her outstretched arms even as a foot scraped on concrete. She looked up. No shadows on the lawn, either behind or ahead of her.
They want us alive, otherwise they would’ve opened up by now. I hope Meghan will respond when I call out, otherwise I’m a goner.
The foot scraped again, two, maybe three feet ahead of her. The other hood wasn’t making any noise.
She crawled slowly and grasped the object. It was rubbery, and bent in her hand. She extended a finger and placed it on a lever. She ran her eyes down its length and followed it to the walls of the house. It was ready to go. Her foot kicked out reflexively as she prepared to leap. Something rolled a couple of inches under the hedge and came to a stop.
The footsteps came closer. She peered down under the hedge and spotted the baseball. Her left hand grasped it, her right hand rested on the lever. Her ears strained, her senses went into overdrive.
&n
bsp; The smell of grass assailed her nostrils, the excited chirp of a bird from some roof registered on her dimly. She thought she saw a shadow move beyond the gnarl of the hedge.
A shot sounded. Meghan! I can use that distraction.
She lunged upright, towering over the hedge, screaming as loudly as she could, ‘MEG, COVER ME.’
A fraction of a second to locate the first hood. He was three feet away, turning away from the shot, swinging in her direction, startled by her yell, a hand reaching under his jacket.
She thumbed the lever on the rubbery tube in her hand, a hose, and a burst of high pressure water shot out and struck him right in the face, blinding him, sending him stumbling backwards.
Movement. To my left. The other hood.
He was raising his gun. No time to think. No time to aim. She let fly with her left hand, instinct, muscle memory, and the years of playing with her dad and in her college team, taking over. For a second she was back to being Beth Petersen, ace pitcher of the Wolverines, her University team, the right-handed player who pitched with her left.
The ball flew, straight and true and forced the gunman to duck quickly and sidestep. He lost a second. Another second to center himself again and raise his gun.
In Beth and Meghan’s world, a second was a light year.
His chest blossomed into red just as a shot sounded, Meghan coming to her rescue. He fell. She raced down the hedge, peered over it, and located the hosed hood.
He was struggling to his feet. She pivoted over the hedge and landed on his chest and stunned him with a wicked right. He lay still.
‘I’ve got them,’ came Meghan’s voice from a distance. Beth let out a breath and let the world speed up, and took stock of the scene. The hood her sister had shot, lay groaning, his hands wide, covered by Meghan. There were two gunmen behind Meghan, both prone on the ground, their wrists cuffed.
