Daeng was acting strangely, too, like he was in a hurry. When he reached the window, instead of moving the board to the side, he banged on it. When he hit it a second time, it slid out of the way. Orlando was standing just on the other side, something dark on part of her face and in her hair. Like Daeng, she seemed panicky. Soon she moved out of the way so the other two could enter, and the wood fell back into place.
What the hell is going on?
Liz hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do. Finally, she decided she had to take the chance, and moved quietly over to the board-covered window. She put her ear against the wood, heard distant footsteps, then nothing. Again, she hesitated. She could go back to where she’d been hiding and guess at what was going on, or actually find out.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she eased the board back just enough so she could peek inside.
At first she could see nothing, then her eyes adjusted to the lower light. Beyond the window was a large, gritty space littered with garbage. There was no one present.
You’re doing this for Nate, she told herself. She took a deep breath and slipped inside the building.
As soon as she had the board back in place, she paused and listened. She had been hoping to hear something that would tell her which way they’d gone, but it was quiet. Thankfully, there was dust on the floor that recorded footprints leading back and to the left.
The prints stopped at a shut door. She put her ear against it, and heard faint, muffled voices on the other side, but could make nothing out.
She circled off to the right but came to an impassible wall. She went back in the other direction, passing the closed door, and continuing on until she came to an extension of the same wall from the other side. Frustrated, she started back for the point where she’d begun, but then noticed a bundle of cloth at the base of the wall that surrounded the room. The material seemed to be stuck into the wall.
She knelt down and tugged at it. The cloth was so weatherworn that it tore off in her hands. More gently this time, she worked at the bundle until it came all the way out, revealing a hole on her side of the wall.
She looked through it. There was no corresponding hole on the other side, so she turned her head, hoping to hear what was going on.
“…manhunt.” Jake’s voice, distant but understandable. “What happened to the man you apprehended in Reynosa?”
Someone else spoke up, an accented voice that she guessed belonged to the cop. “We didn’t catch anyone. The manhunt failed.”
“Try again.”
“I’m telling you, we didn’t catch anyone.”
There was a loud bang. Liz jerked her head back, her ear ringing.
What in God’s name was that?
She lowered her head again, but her ear was temporarily useless, so she turned and tried the other one.
Her brother again. “But there was a man?”
“Yes.”
It was quiet for a moment. “Is this him?”
“Yes.”
Nate? Are they talking about Nate? They must be.
“Where did you fly him to?” her brother asked.
“Outside…outside Tampico.”
She continued to listen until the man stopped responding, then made her way quickly out of the building and all the way back to where her brother had parked his car.
Her mind was running a mile a minute. Not only had her worst fears been realized-no, not worst, but damn close-she’d also heard how ruthless her brother could be, the bang she’d heard undoubtedly a gunshot. She knew she should be horrified, but she didn’t feel that way.
She felt a sense of…satisfaction.
She focused her thoughts back on Nate. What could she do? How could she help him get free? Could she do anything at all?
Though deep down she feared the answer was no, she wasn’t willing to give up yet.
Her brother’s next, logical stop would have to be Tampico, wouldn’t it? Though Nate wasn’t there anymore, maybe there’d be something that would point to where he’d been taken.
She spotted a cab turning onto the street a block away. She stepped out into the middle of the road and waved her hand.
“Aeropuerto,” she said as she climbed in. “Rapido.”
When she arrived at the airport, she was able to get onto a flight that was leaving forty minutes later. The next flight out wasn’t for another two hours. She sat in her seat, her eyes glued to the door, expecting Jake and the others to come through it at any moment, but the doors closed without them boarding. She was going to beat them there.
For a moment, she felt relieved. But it didn’t last long.
What if they’re not going to Tampico at all?
CHAPTER 31
Nate barely parted his eyelids as the door to his cell opened.
Janus entered, carrying something. “I bring water for you.”
“Go away,” Nate whispered.
A laugh, deep and scornful.
There was a clacking sound Nate couldn’t place, followed by a moment of nothing, then pain, everywhere pain, as a bucketload of water splashed down on the exposed wounds across his back.
Arcing his whole body, Nate screamed. “You bastard!”
He wanted nothing more than to jump up and slam a fist into Janus’s face, but his legs refused to move off the bed.
More laughter as the pain echoed in waves, each as strong as the last. Nate cringed as he tried to force the pain away. He could feel another scream of agony growing in his belly, but he refused to release it.
“Get. Out!” he managed.
“You want more water, you let me know,” Janus said. “Oh, and even if you are tempted, I would not lie on my back if I were you.”
There was a final bout of laughter as the man left and the door closed.
Sleep. I just need to sleep, Nate thought, desperately clawing at oblivion.
But as soon as his mind started to relax, there was another scream from down the hall as Janus played his water trick on one of Nate’s cellmates.
Nate slowly moved his hand into his pants pocket and gripped the bolt, as if it were a talisman that could give him the power he needed. Surprisingly, doing so seemed to relieve a bit of the pain, and he finally felt sleep begin to sweep over him.
As it did, he thought he heard Liz’s voice again.
“Keep your head clear, and always be ready. It’s the only way you’ll make it.”
“I love you,” he mouthed soundlessly. “I love…”
CHAPTER 32
Eastern Mexico
The names on the Post-its were once more nagging at Quinn. Maybe it was just being on a plane again, but he was sure there was something there.
Peter. Berkeley. And either himself or Nate.
He tried slotting in each of the other names, looking for a combination that might ring a bell.
No.
No.
No.
Nothing. No set of players that made any sense.
He finally gave up and looked over at Orlando. She had her laptop open, and, against airline regulations, connected to the Internet via an unused channel she’d hacked into through the plane’s own datalink system.
“Anything on the cargo plane?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. Got that a while ago,” she said.
“And you weren’t going to tell me?”
“You were resting.”
“I was not resting.”
“Well, that’s what it looked like.”
He frowned. “So, the plane?”
“Byrd Cargo. Named after founder Norman Byrd. Established nineteen sixty-five. Based out of Tampa, Florida.”
“Anything on the specific aircraft?”
“On a long-term charter.”