Mortal Dilemma (38 page)

He hadn't had a drink of alcohol since Friday. He was a little sluggish from sitting around doing nothing, but he was sober. The alcohol was out of his system. His mind was clear of the cobwebs that had infested it since he'd found the al Bashar brothers in Aleppo. His arm had healed from the grazing gunshot wound. It was a little stiff, but some vigorous exercise would limber it up enough that he wouldn't be impaired. He dialed the number J.D. had given him.

*    *    *

After talking to J.D., Jock called Galis. “Paul, we've got trouble in Longboat Key. I need to get there as soon as possible. I'll call and charter a plane, but I need to get to the airport now. Can you get a car out here to pick me up?”

“I stopped for breakfast, Jock. I can be at my house in five minutes.”

“I'll be ready.”

Jock called the charter service he'd used on Friday to get to Key West from Miami. They only had one plane in Key West and that was a small Cessna 172. It'd take a couple of hours to get to Sarasota. Jock thought it was the best he could do on short notice and told them to hold it for him. He'd be at the airport in about thirty minutes.

He hung up and was putting a couple of pistols in his carryall when his phone rang. His boss. “Jock,” Kendall said, “I just talked to J.D. I've got a jet on its way to you. It's on final approach to the Naval Air Station at Boca Chica. How far are you from there?”

“About fifteen minutes, I think. I've got transportation on the way.”

“We'll have you in Sarasota in about thirty minutes after takeoff. A police car will be waiting for you at the airport. Are you in a condition to handle all this?”

“I'm pretty good, Dave. No booze since Friday, and I know what I have to do. Even if I don't like it. I'll handle this.”

“This isn't a suicide mission, you know.”

“I know. But if it comes to that, better me dead than Matt.”

“Jock?”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself.” The line went dead.

*    *    *

Jock got into Paul's car and said, “Let's go to Boca Chica. Lights and siren. I've got an agency plane waiting for me.” He told Paul what he'd learned from J.D. and Dave.

“Are you okay to take this on, Jock?”

“I'm fine, Paul. Everybody keeps asking me that. Understandable, I guess, but I'm sober and in reasonably good shape. I'll be okay. I chartered a plane before I knew the agency jet was coming for me. Will you call and cancel it?”

The gate guard at the Naval Air Station waved them through, and Paul drove toward the ramp where a Gulfstream 150 idled, its stairway deployed. Paul pulled right up to the plane and stopped. Jock shook his hand and thanked him for his hospitality. He jumped out of the car, jogged to the jet, and climbed the stairs. The copilot introduced himself, raised the gangway, and locked the door. The jet started to move.

“We're cleared for immediate takeoff and ascent to twenty-one thousand feet,” the copilot said. “We should be in Sarasota in less than half an hour. Buckle up. This baby climbs like a fighter.”

*    *    *

As the jet approached Sarasota, the copilot came back to the passenger section and told Jock that a Manatee County sheriff's office helicopter would meet them and take him to Longboat Key. A detective named Duncan would meet him there.

The helicopter flight was a short hop across the bay. When it landed at Bayfront Park, J.D. was standing beside a marked Longboat Key police car, its blue lights flashing. He got out of the helicopter, waved a thank you to the pilot, and jogged over to J.D. He grabbed her in a bear hug and whispered, “We'll get him back.”

She stepped back and looked closely at him. “You're really back, aren't you, Jock?”

“Partway, at least. Enough to help you bring Matt home. Tell me what you know.”

J.D. motioned him into the car and they headed for Matt's house. “I don't know any more than I did an hour ago.” She told him what she'd found at Matt's house. “It's been about an hour since I got the picture I forwarded to you. We haven't heard anything else, but our tech people have been trying to get some information out of the telephone company to help us find where the call came from.”

“Any luck?”

“A bureaucratic clusterfuck,” J.D. said.

Jock chuckled. “My, my. I've never heard you use that kind of language before.”

She smiled. “Sorry. Those are Matt's words and they seemed to fit.”

“Have you tried to track the phone? There are ways to do that.”

“Our geek gave that a shot, but he says the phone has to be turned on in order for it to be tracked. Apparently, the man who called turned it off as soon as he finished his phone call to me. He's running a program that will tell us immediately if the phone is turned on again.”

“What's going on with the phone company?”

“Nobody can give us an answer. They keep talking about warrants and all kinds of things. Bill Lester has an assistant state attorney standing by to get with a judge when he comes in at nine o'clock this morning and see about getting a warrant.”

“Screw it.” Jock picked up his cell phone and tapped in a number. “Dave, I'm on Longboat Key with J.D. I need to know the location of Matt's phone when the bad guys sent the text to J.D. an hour or so ago. Thanks.” He recited Matt's number from memory.

He hung up and said, “We'll have it in a few minutes.”

F
RIDAY
, N
OVEMBER
7

J
ACKHAMMERS WERE TRYING
to bull their way out of my head, their incessant pounding bringing another wave of nausea. My nose was probably broken and it hurt like hell. I tried to concentrate on my surroundings, hoping that I could will away the pain. Somewhere in the distance I heard the rumble of marine diesel engines. They were out of sync, and I could tell that there were two of them. Probably a twin-engine boat with an inexperienced captain at the helm who hadn't synchronized the engines' rpms. I was close to the water, but I had no idea about where or even when. I had no frame of reference. I didn't know if I was still in the day of my capture, or a week later. All I knew was that I had been unconscious for an undetermined amount of time and had been taken to someplace on the water. I couldn't even guess as to what continent I was on.

I was puzzled about why they'd asked me about J.D.'s whereabouts. She was on Longboat and I was pretty sure they knew where she lived. Maybe they hadn't been able to break into her condo. Or maybe she'd scared them off with her gun. Even so, they would have known where she was.

The men left me after they took the picture. I sat for what I guessed to be thirty minutes before they came back in. They weren't wearing their masks. One of the men was Youssef al Bashar and the other
was a man whose picture Dave Kendall had sent me. Saif Jabbar was young, probably no more than sixteen or seventeen, and he was big and muscular and sported a face so ugly it looked like it hurt.

The fact that the men weren't concerned about showing their faces was a bad sign. They weren't worried about me being able to identify them because they expected me to be dead. That was probably a mistake on their part. Too many people would know who they were and Jock would hunt them down and kill them. Well, the old Jock would, and I thought my death would be the catalyst that brought the newly cautious Jock back into the hunt.

I knew that as soon as I gave them what they wanted, they'd kill me. The longer I could drag this out, the more time J.D. would have to find me.

One of the terrorists, the one whom I'd identified as Youssef, smacked me in the face again, not as hard this time and with an open hand. “Good morning to you, too,” I said.

“Where is the woman?”

“She's probably just outside that door with an M-4 rifle that she's about to stick up your ass and blow your dick off.”

He hit me again. Harder this time. “I don't have a lot of time to play with you. Either tell me where she is or I'll kill you right now.”

“Look, Youssef,” I said, “if I knew where she was, I'd tell you.”

“You know who I am?”

“Youssef al Bashar. And I know why you are here.”

“Where is the one called Algren?”

“I don't know.”

He hit me again. This time with a closed fist. On the right side of my jaw. I saw it coming and held my jaw loose and turned my head in the direction away from the blow, hoping nothing would break. It hurt like hell.

“Where is he?”

“The last I knew, he was in Key West. I think you know that. You drugged him and shot him and had a cab driver take him to the hospital. You wanted to lure Detective Duncan and me to Key West to kill us. How'd that work out for you?”

“We lost track of you.” He grinned. “That problem has been remedied. Partially, anyway.”

“You're a dumbass, Youssef. You didn't lose track. We outsmarted you.”

He hit me again. This time in the stomach. I doubled over and retched. Nothing but a little acid came up, burning my already raw throat.

“Do you know where my men are?”

“No.” This time I was lying. They were dead. Except for the cab driver, and he'd never see daylight again. I just didn't think this was a good time to bring it up. I mean, given my circumstances.

“Did you capture my men in Key West?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. Well, maybe not completely truthful, since I did get Tariq. However, I could see no good reason to explain all that to Youssef. He was mean enough already.

“Where is Algren staying in Key West?”

“My best guess is that he's no longer there. As soon as he finds out that I'm missing, he's going to be after you like a cat on a rat, pardon the expression.”

“Good. That is my plan. To get him here.”

“Right. All you've done is piss him off. And I promise you, there's going to be hell to pay for that.”

He slapped me on the side of my head. Not a hard blow, just sort of a good-bye pat. He and his buddy walked toward the door. “I need water,” I said. “I'm dehydrated. And a couple of aspirin if you've got them.”

Youssef looked at me and smiled. “No water for you.”

“Wait,” I said. “I'll trade with you. Information for water.”

“What kind of information?”

“I'll tell you where the woman is.” I was lying again, of course. I wasn't sure where J.D. was but I would have bet my beloved ass that she was already looking for me. I'd take the punishment for lying to them, but it'd be worth it for one swallow of water.

“You'll give up your woman?”

“Yeah. She doesn't mean that much to me. The woman for a bottle of water. Seems like a fair trade.”

“Tell me where she is.”

“Water first. Besides, without water, I'll probably die and be of no use whatsoever to you. Not even as bait.”

Youssef said something to his buddy in Arabic and the man left the room. He returned in a couple of minutes with a bottle of water and gave it to Youssef. He came over to me, unscrewing the cap. He stood in front of me and upended the bottle, letting the water flow into my lap. Both the bastards laughed and left the room.

F
RIDAY
, N
OVEMBER
7

“T
HEY
'
RE NEARBY
,” J
OCK
said, hanging up his cell phone. “Dave said the signal from Matt's phone bounced off a cell tower on Cortez Road.”

“There's only one tower in that neighborhood, over by the fire station,” J.D. said. “It covers a pretty big section. The north end of Longboat Key, parts of Anna Maria Island, and a large part of west Bradenton east of the bay. We're not going to narrow it down by much.”

“It helps,” Jock said. “Depending on when they got Matt, they could have been just about anywhere. Now we know that an hour and a half ago, they were still here. They have to be holed up in a house somewhere.”

“We're still looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”

They had arrived at Matt's house and were sitting in the car. “Yes, but we've narrowed down the haystacks. Has anybody made any demands?” Jock asked.

“Not yet.” J.D. looked at her watch. “It's been almost two hours since they sent the picture. Maybe they just did that to let us know they have him. Maybe they'll kill him without making any demands. If they just want to hurt you.”

“I don't think so. If they'd wanted to kill him, they could have done it at his house. Left his body in the yard. We'll hear from them soon.
They'll let us know what they want, and if they call again on Matt's phone, we'll have their location.”

“You don't really think they'll use Matt's phone again, do you? They must know that we can track it.”

“They probably do, but they don't understand how good our technology is. They know we have ways to track them, but they don't understand that we can do it almost instantaneously. They try to keep their calls short so that they can't be traced, but the second they turn that phone on, we'll have them.”

“What do you think they want?”

“You, probably, and finally me. Kill Matt and you and let me live for a few days while I think about what I've caused. If we're right about what they're up to. I can't think of any other reason they'd be after you and Matt.”

“Matt won't tell them where either of us is,” J.D. said.

“I know. I wonder why they didn't come after you before they went for Matt?”

“Who knows?”

“Were you home last night?”

“Yes, but it was almost two o'clock before I got there. I spent most of the night in the office.”

“Do we have any idea about when they took Matt?”

“No. We've got cops canvassing the neighborhood. Maybe something will turn up. Maybe somebody heard something. Or saw something.”