| |
Awareness came to her slowly. It was the silent hour just before dawn, when the birds were starting to stir in their nests and the night was getting lighter, but the sky hadn't started to change from midnight blue to gray just yet. Viper didn't question what had awakened her. She simply opened her eyes and listened. The house was silent, neither Angela nor Michael were stirring, and Raven was settled on his perch, his beak buried in his shoulder, fast asleep. Rolling over in bed, she glanced at the window. It was closed, the sheer curtains hanging still before it.
Alina yawned and stretched before tossing off the down comforter and getting up. Raven lifted his beak and blinked, gazing at her sleepily as she headed into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged and disappeared into the walk-in closet. When she reappeared, Viper was dressed in gray yoga pants, a tank top, and running shoes. Raven stood up and stretched, ruffling his feathers and shaking his head. As she went silently out the bedroom door, he moved to the end of the perch and flew up to the skylight, disappearing through the trap door.
Hawk watched from the trees as Raven hopped out onto the roof and looked around. His black eyes latched on Damon unwaveringly and Hawk smiled faintly. He swore that bird had radar. He shifted his gaze to the deck as a light came on in the living room and Viper appeared at the sliding door, dressed in yoga pants. He knew she had radar.
Damon waited for her to come onto the deck before moving out of the trees and onto the grass. She looked at him and stretched, coming down the steps toward him.
“Morning,” she murmured, joining him near the trees.
“Morning.” Hawk looked down at her and smiled faintly. “You're up early.”
“So are you,” she muttered. “How'd it go last night?”
“Kwan decided Angela wasn't much of a threat after all,” Damon told her.
Alina nodded.
“No surprise there,” she said with a quick grin. “Can he still walk?”
“Of course,” Damon answered, turning to walk with her into the trees. “He may have some trouble typing for a while. His right hand may or may not have some broken bones, but he'll live.”
“Good. Anything new on Jenaro?” Viper asked, glancing at him.
“I'm getting closer,” Hawk told her. “Have you found the boy yet?”
“I'm getting closer,” Alina retorted, drawing an appreciative grin from him. “I have a pretty good idea who has him. I just have to find out where he's keeping him.”
“I haven't seen any sign of a little one with Gomez,” Hawk told her, stopping and leaning against a pine tree. “Are you sure he's still in New Jersey?”
“Positive.” Alina stood in front of him and looked up into his face. “Let me find him before you take out Gomez. I don't want to risk losing the boy if you eliminate the only person who definitely knows where he is.”
“Then hurry,” Hawk said, his blue eyes hard. “I'm not waiting much longer.”
“I'll find him soon,” Viper assured him. She looked at him, noting the rings under his eyes. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep?”
“For a couple of hours,” Damon replied. “I checked into a hotel. You have a full house and I thought it was best not to climb in through your window again.”
Alina tilted her head and considered him.
“That's probably true,” she agreed softly. “Have you eaten?”
“Is that an offer for breakfast?” Damon asked with a smile.
Alina chuckled and turned back toward the house.
“Yes, and coffee,” she said over shoulder. “You look like you need it.”
“Throw in access to your command center for an hour and I'm all yours,” Hawk replied.
“Oh, I know you are,” Alina murmured.
Damon grinned and reached out to grab her wrist, jerking her up against him swiftly. Lowering his lips to hers, he kissed her until she had no breath left inside her. When he finally lifted his head, his own breathing came in ragged gasps and his eyes pulsed a dark, mesmerizing cobalt blue.
“Just making sure we're on the same page,” he murmured, his lips curving slightly.
Alina shook her head slightly and pulled away.
“Come on. Let's get you fed and into the command center before the natives start stirring,” she said, pushing away the rush of desire threatening to send her back into his arms. “They don't know it's there, and I'd rather keep it that way. I want to keep some secrets from Michael.”
“For a Marine, he's a good guy,” Damon remarked, falling into step beside her as they emerged from the trees.
“I'm glad you like him.” Alina glanced at him. “He said to tell you he's not going anywhere.”
“Oh, I'm aware of that.” Hawk glanced up to the roof where Raven watched them protectively. “As long as he doesn't get in my way, I have no problems with him.”
“What happened in Peru, exactly?” Viper asked, stopping at the foot of the deck steps and looking at him. “You two came back buddies.”
Hawk grinned at her.
“It's a guy thing,” he told her with a wink. “We bonded on a goat trail.”
Alina's eyebrow soared into her forehead and she turned to go up the steps.
“Oh Hawk, there are so many things I could say to that,” she murmured, “but I'll keep them to myself.”
Stephanie stood silently, staring at the body hanging from the tree in front of the prison. The rope creaked eerily as a brisk wind caused the body to sway in a slow, grotesque movement that made the corpse appear almost alive. A white screen had been hastily erected around the tree, concealing it from the busy road and curious onlookers, and Stephanie was glad of the semi-privacy it provided as she stared mutely at the sight.
Philip Chou was missing one shoe and his right hand. His dark hair hung limply over his eyes like a veil and his head was twisted at an odd angle, suggesting he really had been hanged to death. He wore the clothes he was wearing when he disappeared out of the office, according to Scott's statement, and his shirt was liberally splattered with blood. Stephanie knew she should feel ill at the thought that the blood spatters were undoubtedly from his own severed hand, but she couldn't seem to feel anything but numb. After an arm, a head, and a tongue, she supposed she should be grateful that, with the exception of the missing hand, Philip seemed to be all in one piece.
John rounded the corner of the screen with a large Wawa coffee in each hand and his eyes went straight to the corpse suspended from the tree.
“Holy Mother of God! You weren't lying,” he exclaimed, staring at the body.
Stephanie glanced at him and reached out to take one of the cups.
“Did you really think I would make this up?” she demanded, sipping the hot coffee thankfully.
“No. And, it is the day before Halloween,” John replied, examining the body from where he stood. “How the hell did they get him up there? It must be at least fourteen feet up to that branch.”
“How did they do any of it?” Stephanie retorted. “Of course, no one saw anything. He's hanging from a tree, right on a main road, in the middle of the front yard of a prison and no one saw a thing!”
John raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic sharpness in her voice.
“Who found him?” he asked, sipping his coffee.
“One of the uniforms over there.” Stephanie jerked her head back toward the group of policemen standing near the side of the prison. “He drove by about five and saw him hanging here.”
“Why are they standing all the way over there?” John asked.
Stephanie shrugged defensively.
“I may have told them to keep their incompetence contained elsewhere so it wouldn't contaminate my crime scene,” she said.
John choked on his coffee.
“And you say I need to work on my inter-agency diplomacy,” he exclaimed, laughter leaping into his pale blue eyes.
“Well, they are incompetent,” Stephanie retorted. “How do you patrol a neighborhood every night and not see someone get hanged from a tree? Or not see someone put a tongue on the steps? Or leave a head on a spike? I mean, seriously? These people aren't ghosts. There's no excuse for this!”
“Maybe the Cartel has an ear on the scanners and knows when the patrols go by,” John suggested, turning his attention back to the hanging body of Philip Chou. “What about our guy? Didn't you put one of our agents on surveillance here? Why didn't he see anything?”
“I don't know.” Stephanie set her coffee down and pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket. “I sent him back to the office and told him to explain himself to Rob directly. I didn't trust myself not to shoot him.”
“Now you sound like the Black Widow,” John told her with a grin, pulling on his own gloves and turning his attention to the grass around the tree. “Did we send for our techs, or are they all incompetent as well?”
“Keep it up, Smithe, and I'll send you home too,” Stephanie snapped.
John grinned and fell silent, bending down to examine the ground. The lack of rain had left it hard, making it impossible to see imprints in the hard-packed dirt.
“The ground's too hard to get any prints off it,” he said, glancing up at the body. “We'll need the techs to check for any stray DNA.”
“They're on the way,” Stephanie mumbled, her hands on Chou's legs. She held him steady as she stared at something on his head. “Does that look like a bruise to you?”
“Where?” John asked, standing up and moving to her side.
“There, on his temple.”
John looked at the discolored swelling near Philip Chou's left temple.
“It looks like he was hit on the head with something,” he answered, tilting his head. “Maybe that's how they got him out of the building and into the van.”
Stephanie nodded and let go of the legs, releasing the body back into the wind.
“Probably,” she agreed. “Larry should be able to tell us more when he gets a good look at him.”
“Where is our trusty ME?” John asked, looking around. “Usually he's right on time.”
“He's on his way.” Stephanie stepped back and stripped off her gloves. “The van popped a tire in a pothole on the way here. He called just before you got here.”
John nodded and watched as Stephanie sipped her coffee and stared at the body pensively.
“What are you thinking?”
“Why are they going through all this trouble?” Stephanie asked, glancing at him. “Leaving bodies around the prison is risky and dangerous. Why bother?”
“To leave a message,” John replied with a shrug. “Blake and the Black Widow both seem to agree that the Cartels have a dramatic streak in them. Gomez is leaving a message.”
“For who? He's running out of audience members to intimidate.”
“Not quite,” John said slowly. “He still has Kwan.”
Stephanie stared at John.
“Or Moon,” she murmured thoughtfully.
John nodded and pulled off his gloves. His phone started ringing and he reached into his pocket, pulling it out.
“It's the agent we put on Kwan checking in,” he said, swiping the screen and pressing accept.
Stephanie nodded, turning her thoughtful gaze back to Philip Chou's body as John turned and walked away, his phone pressed against his ear. She still stood, staring at the body absently, a minute later when John came back, his face grim.
“Looks like Kwan flew the coop,” he told her. “Peter hasn't seen him since last night. He followed him out into the Pine Barrens, then lost him when his GPS went berserk on him. He went back to Lowell's apartment to wait for him, but he hasn't come back yet.”
“The Pine Barrens?” Stephanie looked at John sharply. “Where?”
“Peter doesn't know,” John replied. “You think he was going after Angela?”
“Call the Black Widow and find out,” Stephanie replied, turning away from the body of Philip Chou. “If he did, he may not be running. He may have just run into Viper.”
“In which case, we may be looking at another body soon,” John muttered, looking up Alina's number in his phone. “What if he didn't?”
“We'll get another damn BOLO out,” Stephanie replied grimly. “This is getting to be ridiculous. How many BOLO's can we possibly put out in the space of a couple days?”
“I don't know, but I'm pretty sure you've already broken the department record,” John answered with a grin.
Alina reached into her pocket and withdrew her silently vibrating phone. She glanced at the screen and raised an eyebrow slightly when she saw John's number flashing.
“Yes?” she answered shortly, returning her gaze to the large, gray building across the road. Police tape roped off the front yard and she watched the swarming activity, centered around a white screen concealing the body blowing in the breeze.
“Hey, you got a minute?” John asked.
“For you? Not really,” Alina replied, raising her scope to her eye and studying the white screen. John appeared from around the screen, walking away with his phone against his ear. “But talk.”
“We just got word Lowell Kwan never went home last night,” John told her. “He was last seen heading into the Pine Barrens. You know anything about that?”
Alina shifted the scope from John's profile to the group of local police officers standing in a group near the Warden's House, well out of the way of the hubbub.
“Possibly,” she murmured. She turned her head to watch as the ME van turned down the side street next to the prison and stopped near the curb.
“Let me put it this way, Lina,” John said, a note of steel threading into his voice. “Tell me what happened last night or I'll charge you with impeding a federal investigation.”
“How ambitious of you!” Viper retorted. “Did you put an extra shot of espresso in your coffee?”
“Lina!”
Alina chuckled and watched as the ME and his assistant got out of the van.
“Kwan came after Angela,” she relented. “He showed up in my security perimeter around 2100 hours. Michael and Damon went out, intercepted him, and Damon convinced him he was better off leaving Angela alone.”
“Then what?” John asked after a brief silence.
“Nothing.” Viper lowered the scope and pursed her lips thoughtfully as she watched the activity across the road.
“Nothing?” John sounded incredulous. “He just left and you went about your business?”
“For the most part,” Alina agreed. “You say he didn't go home?”
“No.”
Alina paused for a long moment, then her lips twitched.
“Are you telling me you guys lost another witness?” she asked in amusement.
“I wouldn't get too cocky,” John snapped. “You're the last one to see him, so that makes you a witness now.”
“Hmm.” Alina grinned. “I guess I better be careful. I might disappear.”
“Keep it up and I'll take care of it myself!” John threatened.
Alina burst out laughing.
“Don't get your panties all in a bunch, John,” she advised, still chuckling. “Go finish your coffee and tell Stephanie I still have the tracking dot on his car. I'll find him for you.”
“We don't need you to find anything for us,” John informed her.
“Oh really? Are you sure? Because you don't seem to be having much luck finding your witnesses while they're still alive.”
John was silent, speechless either from chagrin or anger.
“Good. Now that's settled, I have things to do,” Alina said. “I'll be in touch with Stephanie as soon as I get his location.”
Viper disconnected the call and slipped the phone back into her cargo pocket. Glancing at her watch, she got up and moved toward the fire escape at the back of the roof. She dropped her scope into her pocket, swung onto the ladder and disappeared over the edge of the roof.
John put his phone away and turned to go back to Stephanie with a scowl. Larry and his assistant were walking up to the screen as he approached and he watched as Stephanie turned to greet Larry, her phone in her hand. She waved Larry behind the screen and turned to meet John, her expression grim.
“Blake just called. Ramiero Losa turned up,” she told him.
“Ramiero Losa of the cigarette butt in yonder maze?” John asked.
“Yep.”
“That's good news!” John said. “Where is he?”
“In Mt. Laurel, with a bullet in his skull,” Stephanie replied, turning to walk toward the Warden's House.
“Not good news,” John sighed. “Where?”
“Oh, that's the fun part,” Stephanie told him. “Next to a lake behind the IT building of One District Bank.”
John stared at her.
“Where Kwan works?”
Stephanie nodded.
“Did you get hold of Lina?” she asked, glancing at him.
“Yes. Kwan went after Angela last night,” John said.
Stephanie stopped walking and looked at him.
“Well?”
“She says Michael and Damon intercepted him and convinced him to leave Angie alone, then he left,” John told her. “She said to tell you she still has his car tagged and she'll let you know when she has a location on him.”
“Well, that's something at least,” Stephanie muttered and started to move again. “We know he wasn't running last night. Whether or not he is now, after his run-in with them, is another question. Let's get the BOLO out anyway, just in case. I don't like that he's the last one standing at this point. I'll head over to Mt. Laurel and see what the story is with Ramiero while you stay here and supervise this mess. When Larry's done here, tell him to get over to Mt. Laurel. I'm sure he already got the page.”
“You got it.” John nodded and turned to head back toward the white screen.
Stephanie rounded the corner of the Warden's House and strode toward the small parking lot behind it. With everyone turning up dead, Lowell was her last chance to salvage this case. If she lost him, she lost all hope of finding the virus.
She had to find Lowell Kwan before he turned up dead as well.
The scar on Jenaro's face paled against his dark skin as he stared at Turi.
“Are you sure?” he demanded.
Turi nodded solemnly.
“His body was found at a marina yesterday afternoon,” he said. “He was shot in the head.”
Jenaro swung around and strode to the window of the living room.
“Have you heard from Ramiero yet?”
“Nothing.”
Jenaro turned his attention to the street below, his jaw twitching. Turi waited silently, loathe to say out loud what both men were thinking. When the messenger came to him last night with the news of Lorenzo's death, Turi postponed telling Jenaro, hoping there had been some kind of mistake. When he saw the papers this morning, he knew there was no mistake.
“Find Ramiero and get him back here.” Jenaro finally spoke, his back still to Turi. “It must be the Hawk. He's the only one stupid enough to do this thing.”
Turi nodded and turned toward the door.
“Turi?” Jenaro turned his head and glanced at him. “Get everyone ready to travel. We leave tomorrow.”
“What about the boy?” Turi asked with his hand on the door handle.
“We take him,” Jenaro said shortly, turning his attention back out the window. “I have a buyer willing to pay more than I expected for a seven-year old boy.”
Turi nodded and disappeared out the door, closing it softly behind him.