Boone entered the three-bedroom hotel suite that SOS had turned into their command post. X-Ray had four different laptops and several high-definition monitors on two desks and a coffee table. Boone was never sure what X-Ray was doing, but knowing X-Ray it probably involved hacking some secure federal database. Felix was over against a wall in the sitting area doing one-handed push-ups and watching ESPN. Beyond him, Vanessa had brought a board from the intellimobile into the suite and was practicing her knife throwing. Uly was in one of the bedrooms, sleeping.
“Where have you been?” Vanessa asked.
“I had some things to check out,” Boone answered. “X, what’s the story on the SUV?”
X-Ray nodded in the direction of one of the monitors. A grainy image of the empty warehouse, with the lonely vehicle parked in the center, occupied the screen.
“The cell put in a wireless camera to keep an eye on the SUV. I was able to piggyback the signal. The battery on the tracker only has another couple of hours of juice left. It’s probably too risky to try to sneak in and put on a new one. But I’ve hacked into all of the traffic cameras in the city and I’m working on the external security cameras on most of the major buildings within a twenty-block radius of the warehouse. Should have access in another few minutes.” X-Ray chuckled. “People think they can go buy a router with encryption from Radio Shack and their wireless signal is secure. What a joke.” He said it almost gleefully, which would have worried Boone if X-Ray weren’t incorruptibly honest.
“What about Malak’s plane?”
“I sent the GPS coordinates of where it landed to your phone,” X-Ray said. “It’s about thirty miles southeast of the city. I’m working on getting satellite coverage. The address shows a place called the Firebrand Ranch. Big place. Private airstrip. I’m running records on it now. So far I see it’s a bunch of corporations owned by other corporations, owned by shell companies. Wouldn’t have expected anything less.”
“All right. Be ready,” Boone said. “We have no idea what’s going to happen with this vehicle. I haven’t heard from Ziv or Eben in several hours and that worries me. Their calls go to voice mail. X-Ray, once you’ve got views on all the streets around the warehouse, start looking for signs that they’ve got people watching. If we have to send somebody over there, I don’t want anybody running into countersurveillance. Call me if you need anything.” He left the room.
He went back to Angela and Q’s room and knocked on the door, Croc at his heels. Angela let them in. She didn’t look happy.
“Okay, here’s what we know,” Boone said as he entered the room. “X-Ray found where your mother’s plane landed. Eben and Ziv aren’t answering the phone. So I need you to hang out here. I’m going to go check on Malak.”
Angela was wound up tight and I thought she was about to unload on Boone.
His phone’s chirping stopped her.
“It’s J.R.,” he said, looking at the caller ID. “Hey, J.R.”
Angela and Q could hear J.R. talking extremely loudly. Even from across the room they could recognize his voice. Boone listened and said, “Got it” before hanging up.
“All right,” Boone said. “We’ve found Eben and Ziv.”
“How does J.R. know where Eben and Ziv are?” I asked. “And where are they?”
“He gave Eben a Seamaster. And they’re in jail. C’mon, Croc.” They headed toward the door.
“In jail?” we both said at the same time.
“Yep. J.R. checked the jail records and they’ve been there since yesterday afternoon. Something is up. They should have been allowed to make a phone call and would have called one of us.”
We’d taken our watches off before we got on Air Force One so Roger wouldn’t see them. J.R. had also given one to Malak when she was an agent. Roger would have immediately recognized them. My watch was in the pocket of my cargos and Angela’s was in her pack. I’d forgotten all about the tracking devices J.R. had put inside them. Frankly, it creeped me out a little to think the president of the United States could find me anywhere at any time as long as I kept that watch on me.
“Hey, Boone?” Angela said, “you know that picture of the German officer we showed you, the one with the dog who looked a lot like Croc?”
“Yeah,” he said, turning at the door to look at the two of us.
“Did you ever fight in the war?”
“Which one?” Boone asked. “I’ve fought in a lot of places.”
I stared back and forth between them, wondering who would break the tension first.
“Why are you asking now?” Boone asked. His tone was suddenly scary.
“No reason,” Angela said. “Just, that picture looks an awful lot like you. And so did this one from Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show.” She turned the laptop around so the screen was facing him. He walked closer, squinting to look at it. I watched him for any sign of deception but the old spy betrayed nothing. He had no tell.
“Where’d you get that?” Boone asked.
“Just stumbled across it doing some research,” Angela said. “Looks kind of like you, doesn’t it?”
Boone looked closer at the photo. Then shook his head.
“Nah. Maybe a little. Been around a long time but never met Buffalo Bill. That dog does look an awful lot like Croc, though, I’ll give you that. Listen, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk about this later.”
“You lied to us about being recruited by the CIA out of college,” Angela snapped. “You told us you’d tell us the truth, now you’ve been gone for hours doing who knows what. And we’ve seen you and Croc go poof … who are you, Boone?”
He stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, and looked back at us. I saw Boone’s shoulders sag ever so slightly.
“Poof?” he asked.
“I came up with it,” I said. His eyes narrowed as he considered it.
“Look. I was gone for hours … because … I just … there was something I had to do. I don’t have time to talk about this now. But don’t worry. I’ll be back in a flash.” He stepped into the hallway with Croc at his heels and closed the door.
I had no doubt he would.