No Woman Left Behind (10 page)

“Where is it?” I asked. “Did you have time to plug it in? Where does he want me to go?”

Slash ran his fingers through his hair. “The Central African Republic.”

Chapter Eighteen

“What?” Woodward exclaimed. “What the hell? That guy is completely certifiable.”

My heart was pounding. I needed to calm down or I’d pass out.

Grayson frowned. “Forget Africa for a moment. What did he mean about Hands? Is that a person? Why did he reference Abri Pentz?”

Slash pushed back from the table, stood up. “We don’t know. We’ll have to analyze that, too. But first, we need to strike while the iron is hot. We’re moving this operation to the NSA, where we can plug all the data into the big-boy equipment.”

“I’ll obtain current satellite imaging of the new coordinates,” another man offered.

“Wait. Who’s the Kwabano?” I asked.

Grayson answered. “It’s a violent extremist group that operates in the Central African Republic. It has a history of raiding villages and kidnapping children as young as ten in order to force them into slavery.”

My stomach turned over. “Do we know the Kwabano’s location?”

Woodward put a hand on the back of my chair. “We will.”

“Okay, team. I’ll report back as soon as I know something.” Mark closed up his laptop and stood.

Everyone started packing up equipment.

I closed my laptop and rose. “I’m coming with you to the NSA, Slash.”

Woodward put a hand on my shoulder. “No. I need you here. The bigwigs are waiting for a report and I don’t know what the hell to tell them.”

“There are a dozen other people in the room right now who have a better idea. Have
them
tell you what’s going on.”

Woodward lowered his voice. “You want to keep government resources invested in rescuing Elvis Zimmerman? Then I suggest you sit here and tell me what is going on.”

It pissed me off, his not-so-subtle suggestion of what would happen to Elvis if I didn’t cooperate. I exchanged a glance with Slash and he nodded slightly.

I frowned, but sat back down. “Fine
.
”

Everyone filed out except for Woodward and Grayson Reese. I brought them up to speed on the tech side of what had happened, although it was a sheer waste of time. Neither of them were tech heads, so any discussion of techniques, style or smoke screens wasn’t helpful. I tried not to be impatient, but time was ticking. I felt trapped babysitting Woodward, instead of working on what I knew best.

I stopped myself from incessantly tapping my pen and tried to look interested in what they were saying.

“I’m puzzled by why he’s chosen the Central African Republic,” Grayson said, flipping through some papers in her file. “As far as I can tell, he’s never had a residence there. He’s definitely funneled money through the banks and had occasional dealings on a low level with a few local warlords, but honestly it doesn’t fit his
modus operandi
.”

“Isn’t it clear why he wants her to go there?” Woodward said, picking up his coffee mug and taking a drink of what had to be stone-cold coffee. “Death, kidnapping, rape, torture—or all of the above.”

“He doesn’t want me dead,” I said absently. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Woodward said.

“I do. He could have had Pentz shoot me at any given time. But that would have taken the fun out of it. The entire shoot-out was calculated. He shot at me in front of my parents and boyfriend to let me know that no one I love is safe.”

“Agreed,” said Grayson. “That was pretty dramatic. He’d love that.”

I shrugged. “Only Broodryk didn’t do his homework very well. He didn’t know anything about Slash.
Couldn’t
find anything, I’ll bet. Probably figured he was just a tech head. He had no idea Slash would fire back. Surprised the heck out of Pentz for sure.”

“Yes,” Grayson agreed. “But it didn’t stop the plan.”

“No. Broodryk wanted a big show and instructed Pentz to leave the thumb drive, so that’s what he did. It wasn’t pretty, though, and that probably pissed both of them off. Now Pentz probably feels like I’m unfinished business as well, which is why he wants in on the so-called fun.”

Grayson frowned. “So, who is this Hands that Broodryk referenced? He said he doesn’t care who comes with you as long as you include Hands.”

I lifted my hands. “I have no clue.”

“I know who he’s referring to.”

We looked up and saw a lean middle-aged man dressed in a military uniform in the doorway. His wiry black hair had silver streaks and his jacket had an impressive load of medals.

Woodward rose. “Jack. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it.” Jack stepped forward and shook hands with Woodward. “I was next door when word came down that you might need my assistance.”

“Yes, indeed. This is Lexi Carmichael, the target of the operation, and Grayson Reese, an analyst and political profiler at the CIA. Ladies, meet Naval Rear Admiral Jack Spearman. I assume you’ve been read in, Jack?”

“Very briefly. Interesting turn of events.”

“To say the least.”

Grayson and I shook his hand. I wondered why word had come down that we needed the Navy’s help, but it looked like I was about to find out.

“Sit down,” Woodward urged. “We were just talking about someone named Hands.”

“So I heard.”

We all sat back down and I leaned forward. “So, do you know who this Hands is?”

“I do. He’s one of my men.”

“Your men?”

“The Navy SEALs.”

I blinked. “Hands is a Navy SEAL?”

“Not just any Navy SEAL. Hands—which obviously isn’t his real name—is one of the Navy’s best snipers.”

Chapter Nineteen

“A sniper?” I repeated in surprise.

Jack nodded. “Yes. He’s one of the best shots in the world.”

I took a moment to try and wrap my mind around it. “Whoa. I don’t get it. Why would Broodryk mention a Navy SEAL sniper?”

Jack set his elbows on the table. “My guess is that this is not about Broodryk. It’s about Abri Pentz.”

“Wait. This Hands guy knows Pentz?”

“He does. They have a long-standing feud going back when they were just starting out in their respective military careers. Hands was with us, and Pentz with the British. They competed against one another in numerous international and military sniper competitions as they completed their training. More often than not, it came down to them as the final two. Later, they kept track of each other’s tallies in terms of confirmed kills in overseas missions.”

“What’s with this obsession over kill tallies?” It seemed totally repugnant, but war and conflict were repugnant to me, so what did I really know?

“It’s not an obsession. It’s all about accuracy for snipers. Anyway, Hands is the better sniper. He’s always been one step ahead of Pentz. Don’t get me wrong, Pentz is damn good, but he was a bit quick on the trigger. He lacked emotional control, which became evident when he eventually snapped. After his dishonorable discharge, he went rogue and became a gun for hire. He’s been working for Broodryk for some time. Apparently he hasn’t lost his hate for Hands.”

I rubbed my temples. “Apparently I’m really tired, because I’m having trouble seeing how that fits with the big picture here.”

“Give me fifteen minutes to chat with Jack,” Woodward said, waving his hand at Grayson and me. “You ladies take a bathroom break and grab a sandwich downstairs at the café. Then I’ll give you the big picture, okay?”

“How about me going to the NSA to work on the tech side instead?” I asked.

“We’ve got plenty of experts over there for now. Stay with me, okay? I need you here.”

I sighed and glanced at Grayson, who shrugged.

“I could use some fuel,” she said. “And another cup of coffee. Come on, I’ll treat you.”

I didn’t feel like eating or drinking more coffee, but Woodward and Spearman had disappeared, so I followed her down to the café. We bought a couple of turkey sandwiches and chips. Grayson got more coffee while I opted for bottled water and more ibuprofen. We ate in silence and I chewed without tasting anything. I was seriously dragging, my brain nearing shutdown from sheer exhaustion and emotional distress. The short nap induced by a tranquilizer seemed years ago. The only thing that kept me going was that—as far as I knew—Elvis was still alive and had been spared for the time being. Still, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep working without face planting on the table.

When Grayson and I returned to the conference room about fifteen minutes later, a few guys I hadn’t seen before had joined Woodward and Jack. They sat behind laptops typing and didn’t say a word to us as we sat down. I looked questioningly at Woodward, but he insisted everyone else take a chair and then he closed the door himself.

“We’re going to go ahead and get started,” he said.

“Get started with what?” I asked.

“We’re going to talk action plans. We’ve analyzed the coordinates in the Central African Republic, the satellite feed of the location, the data from the chat room, and we’ve uncovered some additional interesting information.”

“That was fast. Shouldn’t we wait for Slash and the others?”

“They’ve been delayed, so we’re going to press forward.”

I wasn’t sure what would have caused Slash and the others to be delayed for such an important briefing, but I didn’t have a chance to ask because Woodward was already talking.

“We’ve analyzed the target location,” he said, motioning to one of the guys with the laptop. A map popped up on the SMART board and then zeroed in on the coordinates.

“According to the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, the coordinates are squarely in a rural, unnamed grazing village about thirty-five kilometers from the town of Boda. The village appears to have no more than a hundred or so full-time inhabitants, most of whom herd goats and sheep and live in shacks. Unfortunately the village recently fell victim to the Kwabano, a group of armed militants who kidnapped more than two-dozen of their children—many as young as ten years old. As a result, the villagers have been arming themselves for a fight to get the children back. It’s not a good place to be right now.”

I pushed aside the remains of my sandwich. “Broodryk said the elder will cooperate if we provide the information on the whereabouts of the Kwabano. That’s why they want the information. They are trying to rescue their children.”

“Yes. But it doesn’t make the situation any less dangerous. There is no love for Americans in that part of the world.”

“Broodryk said to find the elder. I assume that would be a village elder, right?”

“I think that’s a safe assumption.”

Grayson made a noise of disapproval. “I don’t want to be the one to draw attention to the oversized elephant in the room, but I don’t like where this is headed. I think it’s obvious to everyone that Broodryk is trying to draw us into a trap where he’ll employ Abri Pentz to pick everyone off one by one or sell us out to whichever armed group is willing to pay a fee. That is, if whoever is supposed to talk to the so-called elder to get the clue even survives the initial journey past unfamiliar terrain patrolled by extremely hostile and heavily armed extremists and gangs. Doesn’t anyone else think this is completely insane?”

“I’m going to give it you straight.” Woodward ignored Grayson and focused in on me. His eyes gleamed. “We
must
get Broodryk. His little game with you is generating the best leads we’ve ever had in regards to his possible location, methods and style. Network specialists are pouring over every byte, adjusting and anticipating what he’s going to put in Pruxrat. But it’s not going to be enough. We must stop him before he releases that virus.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Fine. Just so we’re clear, my priority is getting Elvis back alive.”

“And we can help you do it. I assure you, without us, you don’t have a chance.”

I studied him for a moment. “You kept Slash out of this on purpose.”

“Yes. He’s not going to agree to let you go. Or he’ll want to be a part of this. You understand why we cannot permit that.”

“Because you’re willing to sacrifice both me and Elvis if it comes down to a choice between extracting us or taking Broodryk down.”

“Yes.”

“Slash is not going to like this.”

“No, he will not. Which is why he’s not here right now. We needed a chance to put everything on the table for you, unclouded by his frustration and certain hostility.”

Once Slash figured out what Woodward had done, hostile would be an understatement. But I was here and Woodward had something to offer that might save Elvis, so I’d listen.

“Fine. What’s your plan?”

Chapter Twenty

I listened to Woodward outline his strategy. Although in the very early stages, it had a straightforward, but breathtakingly dangerous approach. Dangerous because it involved me traveling to the Central African Republic and participating in a military operation that had less than a twenty percent chance of success.

Now I totally understood why Woodward had kept Slash out of the conversation. Despite our progress with engaging Broodryk, I don’t think it ever crossed Slash’s mind that I’d be asked to go abroad and be physically involved in an operation to secure Elvis’s release. I had no military training whatsoever, but here I was considering my role in an armed operation.

Grayson asked a lot of probing questions, which I appreciated. But in the end, nothing remained certain except that, if I did nothing, Elvis would die.

I desperately needed a few hours of sleep so I could make a thoughtful decision. But where? I couldn’t go home to my parents and face their interrogation about what was going on. I couldn’t face Slash while I was still contemplating Woodward’s secret plan. He’d talk me out of it before I had time to think through all of my options clearly and without bias.

Grayson must have sensed my indecision.

“You can come home with me for a few hours. I live close by and I’ve got a perfectly comfortable couch, if you need to crash.”

It was my best option at the moment and I was too tired to try to figure out anything else. “Thanks, Grayson, that would be great.”

“Call me Gray,” she said.

“Sure, okay.”

A security detail of two FBI agents was assigned to us and they followed us to her condo.

“We’ve got four hours before we have to report back,” Gray said when we got inside. “Will that be enough?”

“We don’t have a choice.”

Her condo was small—one bedroom with a decent-sized kitchen and living room. The couch looked comfortable. She gave me a towel, a spare toothbrush and an oversized T-shirt to sleep in.

I stood in front of a bookshelf stuffed with books and mementos from overseas. “You like to travel.”

“Yes. I don’t get to do as much of it as I’d like given my current employer.”

I picked up a framed photograph. “Your family?”

“My folks and two younger brothers. I’m not married. Hell, I haven’t had a date for two years. My job doesn’t lend itself to that kind of level of commitment, or
any
level of commitment, really. I work crazy hours and can’t talk about what I do. You probably know the drill.”

“I guess.”

“So, what’s with you and that Slash guy? He’s your boyfriend, right?”

“Yes.”

“He’s pretty smart, not to mention hot.”

“Yeah, he’s good like that.”

“He’s going to be royally pissed at Woodward.”

“Yes, he will.”

She hesitated, looking at me. She probably wanted to ask me a lot more questions, but we were both desperate for sleep.

“Well, let me know if you need anything else, Lexi.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Before I went to sleep, I plugged in my cell. I had several texts and phone calls—a couple from my parents, but most of them were from Slash.

Where are you, cara? What did Woodward say to you?

I wanted more than anything to lean into his strength, but I had to think things through on my own. These decisions were mine to make. If things went wrong and people died—myself included—he couldn’t blame himself. I wouldn’t put the responsibility of those decisions on him. I cared too much about him to do that.

I texted him back.

I’m fine and safe. I need a few hours of sleep. Woodward proposed a plan in your absence. We’re meeting back at the conference room in four hours. See you then.

I re-read it before I sent. It seemed sterile. I sucked at texting, but I pressed Send anyway.

Then, since I was on a roll, I sent my mom a text saying I was okay and would call her and Dad soon. Sighing, I turned off my phone and stretched out on the couch.

I don’t remember falling asleep or dreaming, but in what seemed like an impossibly short time, Gray tapped me awake.

“Hey, Lexi. Time to get up. We’ve got about an hour until our meeting.”

I struggled to sit up and pushed the hair out of my face. “Really? It’s been four hours already?”

“Yep. You want some coffee?”

She had already started brewing it. The aroma wafted through the room.

“Sure.” My stomach growled and I realized I was hungry, too. I rubbed my eyes until she came into clearer focus. She moved around the kitchen dressed in a white T-shirt and soft shorts. Her dark hair was mussed and she looked really young without make-up and the suit.

I stretched my arms above my head. “Can I hop in the shower?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’m good to go for the day.”

I showered and got dressed in the same jeans, T-shirt and sweater I’d had on earlier. Gray slipped into a new suit—this time a black pinstripe with a red blouse. She did her make-up, swept her hair into a bun at the back of her neck, and hung the security badge around her neck. She looked calm, rested and professional. I looked like a kid who had just rolled out of bed.

She pulled down two travel mugs from a cabinet and I filled both with coffee.

“Breakfast of champions.” She tossed me a banana and I caught it against my stomach.

“Thanks.”

We picked up our security detail in the lobby of the condo and they drove us back to the CIA satellite office.

Dex Woodward met me in the lobby and drew me aside. “Can I speak with you privately, please?”

I looked over at Gray. She shrugged and got on the elevator with the rest of the security detail.

I turned my attention back to Woodward. “What’s up?”

“Have you thought about our conversation?”

“Sure, I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t made a decision. I’m not going to do it without talking to Slash first.”

“I’m afraid he’s in an operational blackout at the moment. Just on the Central African Republic mission. I’m sorry, but we thought it best.”

I looked at him incredulous. “Are you freaking serious? You can’t keep him shut out of half the operation. He’s vital to the mission.”

Woodward frowned. “Yes, but we need him focused on Pruxrat, not you.”

I clenched my jaw and counted to one hundred by sixes and then did it again backward. It was either that or smack some sense into Woodward.

“Look, Woodward, they are utterly intertwined.” I didn’t verbalize the implied ‘you freaking idiot’ at the end of that sentence even though I should have. “Let me give you a word of advice. You can’t shut Slash out even if you wanted to. You have no idea what he can do. If he wants in, he’s in. You try and go around him and you’ll be sorry. What will you do if he quits?”

Woodward paled. “We thought he’d unduly influence you.”

“Slash doesn’t make my decisions for me, but I value his insight and support. Bring him back in.”

“He’ll want to go on the operation. We can’t allow him to do so.”

“Fine, but shutting him out is the wrong way to approach this. You can’t do this without him and I
won’t
do it without his help. Slash and I are a team. Let’s be clear about that, okay?”

“Well, you need to be clear then, too. Slash stays stateside. That’s the bottom line. We won’t let him accompany you if you decide to go.”

“Understood. But now he’s going to be royally pissed. It was a stupid strategic mistake. Bring him back now. I need him.”

He hesitated. “I have to get approval from the top.”

“Seeing as how my cooperation depends on it, I have every confidence you’ll succeed in getting it.”