Broker was tightlipped, playing with his screen, despite Zeb’s repeated attempts to engage him.
‘Just find a place to park,’ his friend finally said irritably. ‘And eat. Chloe said she wanted a bite.’
Riviera wasn’t large enough to have a main street. It had a bank. A fire station. County buildings.
Zeb pulled up in front of a fast-food joint, sending a thankful prayer that his vehicle still moved. It was damaged. Its front had caved in. But the engine turned over, and its wheels put concrete and asphalt behind. That was all that mattered.
A customer emerged from the restaurant, balancing drinks and bags of food.
He whistled when he saw Zeb’s SUV. ‘That’s some remodeling. Not by choice, I’m guessing.’
‘Yeah,’ Zeb replied shortly. Being polite wasn’t a problem. Being conversational when he had a lot else on his mind was.
‘There’s a garage down the road, if you need that looked at.’
Zeb thanked him and held the door open for his friends, who commandeered a corner table.
Bwana pushed another table over and joined the two so that all could sit.
‘What do you have?’ Zeb asked before Broker had seated himself.
Broker didn’t look up from his screen. His fingers flew over his keyboard before he turned the screen around for them.
‘Watch.’
They watched one of the men from the van wander around in the gas station, picking up sandwiches, balancing them in one hand.
‘We’ve seen this. Nothing new here,’ Roger muttered in disgust.
Broker held his finger up to silence him and pointed at the screen.
Sandwich Man was now joined by his companion. They huddled, the backs of their heads to the camera.
They seemed to speak, and then the second man reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
More huddling. This time the heads bent closer to whatever Second Man was holding.
Sandwich Man straightened, nodded, and hurried to pick bottles of water up.
For a fraction of a second, there was a clear view of what was in Second Man’s hand.
A cell phone.
Second Man pocketed it and joined his friend, and they went to the counter.
‘What’s new?’ Roger challenged Broker.
‘This.’ Broker grabbed the screen, punched more keys and brought up a video clip. It was in slo-mo and digitally enhanced.
Broker had magnified the tape and run several algos on it. The interior of the gas station was blurred. The men’s heads were faded.
All that remained was Second Man’s palm, and the cell in it.
The next shot was a closeup of the cell. Its screen was distinct, as were its keys. It was a well-known model, with a large screen.
The third shot came on screen. This one had a text conversation.
‘How are the packages?’
‘Good condition.’
‘Any damage?’
‘No.’
‘Even the older one?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Bring them to the point.’
‘Coordinates?’
The last message was a string of numbers and letters.
Zeb reached across and played the clip again. His face tightened; the food that Chloe had ordered lay forgotten.
Packages. Meghan and Beth.
The beast roared, and his vision darkened as he tightly grasped the side of the cheap dining table to control himself.
‘Zeb? Zeb?’
Chloe’s face swam in front of him, concerned, forehead puckered anxiously.
And just like that the beast dissolved. Everything became grey in his mind, and his iron control returned.
‘Yeah, I’m good.’
Bwana picked Broker’s screen and replayed it. Passed it over to Bear, who watched it with Roger craning his head over his shoulder.
The manager bustled over, intent on getting them to vacate the table since there was a crowd forming at the door.
She glanced at Zeb, didn’t seem to like what she saw in him, and switched to Chloe quickly.
‘We’re almost done.’ Chloe smiled, and when the woman left, she leaned forward urgently. ‘Broker, those coordinates. Where’s the location?’
‘Near the border. Laredo. About two hours away from here.’
Their faces grew bleak. Laredo was a border town in Texas, separated from Mexico by the Rio Grande. Nuevo Laredo was on the other side of the River, home to cartel violence. They could guess where the sisters were being hustled to.
‘Let’s go.’ Chloe rose abruptly.
‘Hold up.’ Bear grasped her by the arm and stopped her. ‘Let’s finish our meal.’
She looked at him mutinously, sighed and settled down.
He was right. Food, sleep, and water couldn’t be neglected. Especially when they were on a mission.
She dug into her plate but stopped chewing when another thought struck her.
‘Broker, the van. Did the cameras catch its plates? I wasn’t paying attention.’
‘I was. Nothing escapes me.’ He shook his head wryly. ‘It’s a Ford Transit Connect. Hundreds of thousands of those on the roads all over the country. It had a license plate. The number’s fake.’
Chloe settled back in disappointment and then slid forward again. ‘What about—’
‘I’m a genius.’ Broker held up a finger admonishingly. ‘I’m way ahead of you. I ran a trace on the text message numbers. They’re using a masking technology. There’s software out there that takes the real number, wraps a dummy number over it, and you’re good to go.’
‘You can’t extract the real number?’
‘Nope.’
‘I thought you were a genius.’
‘Some people are never satisfied,’ he sighed.
‘What’s the plan?’ Bear asked when Broker shut the screen and stowed it away.
‘We find them,’ Broker replied. ‘I thought that was obvious.’
‘You’re forgetting something.’ Bear frowned.
‘What?’
‘Those hitters.’ Bear waved a large hand in exasperation, pointing in the general direction of the town. ‘Someone sent them. Someone knew we would be here. Who are they? And how did they know?’
Zeb had been thinking along those lines. He didn’t have answers; however, a thought struck him.
‘Broker, you swept our vehicles?’
‘Yeah. Every day. We’re clean.’
‘We’ll find out who they are from Chang.’ Zeb drained his juice. ‘Doesn’t look like the local cops or the troopers will be very cooperative. Chang will find out and tell us. Our priority, however, is to find the twins.’
‘And if more hitters come at us?’
‘We go over them.’
‘I hope they do,’ Bwana said yearningly. ‘I really hope they do.’
‘What?’ Zeb asked when he caught Broker’s expression.
His friend brought out a cell phone and placed it on the table.
‘One of the hitter’s cells. Funny how it found its way inside my pocket. Too late to return it to the cops now. They would’ve gone.’
Broker raised his hands defensively when all of them gazed at him. ‘I swear I had nothing to do with it. It must be one of those new models that can fly.’
‘What’s on it?’ Despite the likelihood that the twins would be ferried across the border, he couldn’t help but smile. Broker’s definition of ‘legal process’ was loose. Very loose.
I would’ve done the same. This is Meg and Beth. I would and will break any law to get them back.
‘Just one number,’ Broker replied. ‘Incoming and outgoing calls. This is a cheap model. A disposable phone.’
Zeb picked it up, thumbed through the keys until the single number came up.
He dialed it and then put the call on speaker.
Broker hurriedly got more equipment out of another black case, attached the cell phone to it, and unfolded a screen.
The phone rang three times before it was answered.
‘Where are you?’ the speaker demanded. ‘I’m watching the news on TV. Everything’s gone apeshit….’
He cut himself off.
‘Dino?’ he asked cautiously.
‘Dino’s dead,’ Zeb replied coldly, ‘and you will be too. Soon.’
The speaker hung up.
Zeb tried again. The number was dead.
‘Anyone recognize that voice?’
Heads shook.
‘Any luck?’ he asked Broker.
‘Dallas. He was moving. I have him in the downtown area, moving from one tower’s range into another.’
He fell silent as he fired commands at Werner.
‘Burner phone,’ he said under his breath, lost in his own world, ‘bought at a Walmart six months back.’
He pursed his lips as he worked for the next ten minutes and then shook his head.
‘Nothing more to go on.’
‘Send everything to Chang. He might have more luck.’
‘We still don’t know how those dudes found us.’
Bear rose and stretched. Several eyes in the joint turned in his direction. He was broad, big, and bearded. He stood out anywhere.
‘We’ll figure it out. We go to Laredo.’ Zeb shrugged into his jacket.
‘The twins come first. Nothing and no one else matters.’