Secrets of the Dead (25 page)

“Two minutes?” He glanced at his wife for corroboration.

“About that.” She threw a wild glance at Rick. “What else should we do?”

He reached for the reassuring tone that was so useful at the nursing home. “You’re doing it. He’s fine. He’s not going to swallow his tongue, that’s a myth. We just have to wait this out. Did he have a fall today?”

“I…” Her gaze never left her son’s face. “No, not that I know of.”

“Has he run a high fever recently?”

“No. He’s been fine. Perfectly healthy. Should I call 911?”

“Only if the seizure lasts longer than five minutes.” He knew that because Sergei had told him. It had seemed imperative to him that the kid be out longer than that. But shit, it showed no signs of stopping, and Rick was getting a bit queasy. What the hell had been in that capsule he’d opened and dumped in the kid’s water? Whatever it was, it had triggered one hell of a reaction, and he was worried now that Sergei had lied his ass off about it not harming the boy. What if he died?

Mentally scrambling to remember his part, he asked, “Does he have a history of epilepsy?”

“No.” It was Raiker who answered. “This is his first seizure, isn’t it, Jaid?”

She shook her head. “But he was confused before he went down. I thought he was just messing with me. To draw out bedtime, you know? He put hand soap on his toothbrush and looked at me so oddly when I asked him what he was doing. Then he just…he dropped the toothbrush. Tried to talk, but he wasn’t making sense.” She stared at him, fright visible on her face. “What is wrong with him? God, hasn’t he been through enough?”

“Four minutes.” Adam’s tone was quiet. “I’m calling 911.”

Rick didn’t argue with him. What the parents did at this point wasn’t part of his deal. He’d done what he’d been paid for. His gaze went to the kid again. Was the shaking letting up a little? The boy didn’t seem to be conscious, and Rick knew that wasn’t a good thing, especially if he didn’t come to after the seizure was over. “You may not require an ambulance, but you should definitely get him to an emergency room when he comes to,” he said to Jaid in a quiet voice. “I don’t want you to worry too much. Ten percent of kids have one seizure and never have another one.” That would be a lot easier to believe if Royce’s showed any signs of stopping. “But you’ll want to get him checked out. They’ll do an EEG.”

She nodded jerkily and he heard Raiker say, “Well it’s been over five minutes now. Yes, we’ve timed it. You’re sending an ambulance?” He had the kind of voice that people listened to, even though it was low and gravelly. He sounded like a man used to giving commands and having them obeyed.

“His eyelids are fluttering. He might be coming to.” Rick wished he would. Five thousand dollars wasn’t going to be enough money if he ended up killing the kid. He swallowed hard, watching the boy he’d just played video games with shaking and shuddering involuntarily. No amount of cash would be enough for being responsible for the boy’s death.

_______

The ambulance’s siren
was off, but the strobe was still flashing as it rumbled down the road away from the estate. It was closely followed by another vehicle, a dark SUV. More than that Malsovic could not make out. “One vehicle following the ambulance,” he whispered into his radio. “Get in position.”

“We know what to do” came the disembodied response, and he grimaced. Hiring near strangers for such a job was its own kind of danger. He could not be certain of their competency once it started. But he also wouldn’t need to worry about them when the operation was over.

He was at the end of a private road that ran in front of the property. It was heavily wooded, but the trees and bushes were winter bare. His men’s vehicles were pulled deeper in the woods, motors running. Had it been daylight, they would have been visible. As it was they would not be seen until it was too late.

The ambulance rolled by, blocking Malsovic’s view. He couldn’t see the first of his men’s vehicles pull out to stop crossways in the road, but the ambulance slowed, so it must have. Before the SUV behind it could respond, the men crouched behind the second vehicle opened fire on it.

The barrage of gunfire was deafening in the night. Zupan would be waiting with the panel truck a mile west of here. Malsovic ran through the woods, in front of the car that protected the gunmen. Beyond, toward the ambulance, which was now stopped with both front doors hanging open.

The SUV slowed to a halt to avoid running into the emergency vehicle. A moment later those inside it began to return fire. They would be no match for the machine guns his people were armed with. Malsovic knew weapons. And those he’d rented—the men he’d rented—were killers.

The pumping of his heart filled his ears. He ran faster, until he was past the shooting. Only then did he dare cross out of the woods, toward the emergency vehicle. Shouting filled the air. And a sound that shouldn’t be there. Gunfire from inside the vehicle.

“Don’t harm the boy!” He shouted it in Serbian and again in English.

“The woman’s armed!” One of the men shouted back. “Filip is shot.”

He changed course and ran around to the back of the vehicle, jumping over the body of one of the medics, drew his gun to shoot repeatedly at the handle of the locked double back doors. He pulled one open and dove inside, bullets pinging as they lodged in the door. There was a body on the floor. The woman was on the gurney with the boy, spraying bullets. Her attention was now diverted. She swung her weapon from the sliding window separating the cab of the vehicle from the back. Malsovic fired. Saw her body jerk. Then jerk again when his man from the front shot her, too.

“Mom!” The boy was trying to scrabble off the side of the gurney, but his movements were slow. Clumsy. “Mom!”

“Drive!” Malsovic bellowed. He caught the kid around the neck and brought the gun down on his head in a quick vicious move. When his body went limp he dumped him on the gurney and went to the woman bleeding out on the floor. Dragging her to the rear of the vehicle, he heaved her body out of the ambulance as it lurched forward. His men would soon leave in the other car. For the next couple of minutes he was tossed about the back area before the vehicle slowed. Malsovic raised his weapon when the door opened.

Seeing it was Zupan, he lowered the gun. “Get the boy.” He lifted the kid and passed him to the other man who ran with him to the vehicle. Placed him in the panel truck. Malsovic got in after him. He hadn’t forgotten what the kid was capable of. The little fuck had ruined everything in the last abduction attempt. He reached immediately for the roll of duct tape and went to work securing him while Zupan got in the driver’s seat and took off.

Once the boy was bound Malsovic made his way to the front and climbed into the passenger seat. He looked in the rear view mirror. No one was following. The man who’d driven the ambulance had run in the opposite direction, where he’d join the others as they made their escape. And the people in the SUV would waste valuable time checking on the woman.

A feeling of euphoria filled him and he smiled broadly, settling back into his seat. Pulled on his seatbelt. “Obey the speed limit. No sharp turns. I don’t want him bruised from rolling around.” It wouldn’t do to handle the kid carelessly at this point.

The boy was going to make him rich.

Chapter 12

“Jaid Raiker is
undergoing emergency surgery at this moment.” Paulie Samuels’ pudgy expression on the video call held an uncustomary grimness. He was Raiker’s right hand man and closest friend, his normal ebullience frequently at odds with his employer’s fiercer attitude. He loved gambling, fast horses and cards. But today he was as solemn as Declan had ever seen him.

“Adam is, of course, at the hospital. The SUV he and the security detail were in was fully armored, with bullet-proof glass and run flat tires. Two of the men were winged, because they had the windows down to return fire. Three of the gunmen were captured, but haven’t revealed any further details about who hired them.” Paulie cleared his throat, seemed to struggle to push aside emotion before going on. “Jaid took out one of the men who ambushed the ambulance. It’s thought that she wounded at least one more. Since she has gunshot wounds in the front and back, it appears she was hit by two different gunmen.”

"Bastards." Declan's voice was bitter. Eve's hand reached for his. Clutched it.

“Her condition is critical.” The other man’s jaw squared. “And so is the situation with Royce. While Jaid fights for her life, we’re going to bring Royce back to her. Because I don’t want to have to be the one to tell her when she wakes up that she’s lost her son.”

“You won’t have to,” he said fiercely. There was a fire in his gut, one burning for retribution. “It was Malsovic. Had to be. Adam has a file on him, if you haven’t already seen it. He was already gone when the hotel raid went down. But for something of this size…he had help.”

“Two vehicles filled with gunmen worth of help.” Paulie’s gaze was steely. “And maybe someone on the inside, as well. We’re running tests on everything Royce ate and drank in the past twenty-four hours, and right now no one in the compound has been cleared, with the exception of family. We’re looking hard at the CNA who accompanied Jaid’s mother to where they were staying. We’ve got a warrant to get a look at his bank records first thing in the morning. If he was paid off, we’ll find out. And then we’ll discover the rest. I’m taking care of that myself.”

“Adam said you’d be the one with the best prediction of where the kidnapper would take Royce. That’s why I’m talking to you first, before I do a conference call with the other agents.”

He slanted a gaze at Eve in the seat next to his. She was pale but stoic, with no sign of the tears she’d wept when she’d heard the news hours earlier. “One of the masterminds behind the first attempt to kidnap Royce was scooped up in a raid last night. With twenty-nine counts of human trafficking against her, it’s doubtful she’ll see the light of day any time soon. Our translator on this case, Eve Lassiter,” he nodded in her direction, “has gone over all the communications retrieved from computers seized last night.” He gave her a gentle nudge. She’d discovered the rest. The news was hers to share.

Her voice was husky when she spoke. “What we’ve found on her computer lead us to believe that Royce was kidnapped because Malsovic, and Sun Yanyu, who was arrested last night, believe he is the son of Rizqi bin Osman, a man who escaped the city seven years ago after running a very similar human trafficking operation that was operating in the hotel recently. Adam had shared the fact that Jaid Raiker’s father somehow ended up with the infant and took him to Jaid for safekeeping.”

“When Burke and I located Malsovic’s apartment last night, we found a cardboard box behind the couch filled with information on Royce Benning.”

“Jaid’s father.” Paulie nodded. Declan had the distinct impression that the details about how the boy had come to live with Jaid weren’t news to the other man. “He left when she was eleven.”

“That might coincide with the timing of when the man started working for bin Osman.” He’d managed to surprise Samuels. “According to the documentation we found, Benning owed the man for drugs and began dealing for him to pay off his debt. Then there isn’t much information until nine years ago. Details of friends the man had. Places he’d been seen. People he’d been seen with.”

“Which correlates to the time Jaid’s father was killed. So where will Malsovic go?”

“Bin Osman is in Malaysia,” Declan told him. “In Johor Bahru, specifically. It’s located in the southern portion of the country, with over a million residents and a substantial tourism industry, thanks in large part to its proximity to Singapore. FBI Agent Stillions has been involved in this case, and has learned that bin Osman has a sprawling criminal network operating in the city and beyond. The man has nine daughters, but no other sons.”

“And this Malsovic is working for bin Osman?” demanded Samuels. “Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t think so, although he appears to be familiar with Royce’s parentage. He hopes to sell Royce to him,” Eve put in quietly. Paulie’s face went fierce. “Yanyu put out an offer for a million dollars to deliver the boy to bin Osman. It’s still unclear, but there may have been bad blood between her and Malsovic. Or maybe he decided to cut her out of the operation and strike out on his own. But there’s no doubt that finding Royce means going to Malaysia. To bin Osman.”

“Yesterday Adam got started on getting Malsovic’s name and face to all the airports and border security.”

The rage that threatened to well at the thought of the boy at the mercy of the ruthless Malsovic had to be tucked away. Put aside. Declan concentrated on doing just that before going on. “Catching the bastard at a border, an airline, a port…that would make things a whole lot easier. And safer for Royce. But Malsovic’s an expert forger. I figure all the IDs for the women he trafficked here were his creations. He’ll manufacture one for the boy. He likely had the equipment in his room at the hotel, but it was missing when it was raided last night. Nor did we find it at his apartment.”

Eve spoke again. “The IT people in Raiker’s lab were able to recover two attachments from the last encrypted email Yanyu sent bin Osman’s contact. One was what looks like a telephoto picture of Royce. The other was a copy of prenatal DNA paternity testing done nine years ago. The female’s name was Lexie Walker, possibly American. The male was bin Osman. The fetus was a boy. The results showed ninety-nine percent certainty that bin Osman was the father.”

“I’ll have an agent dig up what everything they can find on her. Have another couple keep up the pressure on the airlines, ports and border customs. I’m sending Kellan Burke and Finn Carstens with you.” For a man unused to being in charge, Paulie fell seamlessly into the role. Royce will probably safe enough until he’s delivered to bin Osman, but we don’t want to take any chances. He’s now been missing four hours and thirty-six minutes. Get the first flight out that you can. The clock is ticking.”

His sign off was every bit as abrupt as Raiker’s. Declan looked at Eve. “How soon can you be ready for a twenty-four hour flight to Malaysia?”

All signs of the shock and regret she’d shown when she heard the news hours earlier had vanished. Her expression was as determined as he’d ever seen it. “I’m ready when you are.”

_______

It had been
close to forty hours before they reached their destination. Six hours to wait until they could get a flight out of Reagan National. A full day in the air, counting the layover. Four hours to clear customs and collect their luggage in Kuala Lumpur. Another four hours to rent a car and drive to Johor Bahru. Find a hotel. All in the middle of the night in a blinding rain storm.

They could look forward to more of the same weather, since it was monsoon season. “He couldn’t travel to the South Pacific. A nice beach somewhere,” Eve muttered as they were led to their rooms, rain running off them in rivulets as they took an elevator to the twelfth floor with their bags. “No. We have to have eighty degree temperatures and one hundred percent humidity.”

“I’ll take eighty degrees over the temps we’ve been having in DC, rain or not,” Kellan declared. Finn Carstens just gave her one of his quick smiles. With the man’s slightly dreamy hazel eyes and dark wavy hair, he looked more like a poet than a doctor. And that’s just what the man had been, Declan had told her, prior to joining Raiker Forensics. She still couldn’t figure out the connection.

“Two doubles in each room.” Burke pushed open the first door and swept it with his gaze. “The guys can take one room and leave you to hog the other yourself, Eve.”

“I don’t want her alone. Not even with us next door.” Declan put in before she could say anything. “One of us needs to stay with her. Like you say, there are two beds.”

The other man’s smile was wide. “I’m guessing you’re volunteering for the duty. What the hell. You guys are married.”

“What?” Finn looked a bit confused. “Really?”

“For the assignment,” Declan clarified.

“Ah.”

“We’ll drop off our luggage and be back in a few minutes.” Already he was steering Eve to the next door. “And then we need to go over the intelligence the team has on bin Osman and Lexie Walker.” Updates had come frequently during the trip, but they needed to put them all together for a clearer picture of the man Malsovic would likely be dealing with.

And figure out their next move. He closed the door behind him and eyed Eve knowingly as she dropped her bag next to one of the beds. “How jet-lagged are you?”

“No more than you three are, I imagine.” But there was exhaustion stamped on her face despite her words. Probably on his own, if he cared to look. There was an eleven-hour time difference. Where it would have been one in the afternoon in DC, it was about midnight here. “I’ve never been to Malaysia before. I was shocked by the high rises and traffic.”

“And the rain.”

“I was prepared for that. But not happy about it. And the umbrellas I brought were in my bag, so a lot of good they did me.” She was studying him with a slight smile on her face. “You know your insistence of sharing my room did not go unnoticed by the other two.”

He tossed his bag near enough to the other bed to satisfy him. “What I said was true. You’re not going to be left alone. This area of the country isn’t particularly safe to begin with. A woman alone would be asking for trouble.”

“A woman in a motel room with Declan Gallagher is asking for trouble.”

Something lightened inside him at the amusement lacing her words. “You’re in exactly as much trouble as you want to be,” he assured her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Nor suffer through an inevitable argument by bringing that up. This situation was too urgent for either of them to focus on anything but the job at hand. There were things they had to talk about—but not with the other two agents with them every minute, and not with their most important task still ahead of them.

Finding Royce and taking him home to his parents.

He slipped their computer bags off his shoulder and crossed to set them both on the desk tucked into the corner of the room. Opened them to take out the laptops, before stopping to aim another glance at her as a thought struck. “You know, your blond hair is going to make you stand out like a sore thumb here.”

“I’ve thought of that.” She gave a quick grimace as she dug in her purse and came up with a hairbrush. “I’ll be too memorable. Later today…it is the next day here, right?” At his affirmation, she went on. “I packed a scarf I can wear on my head. As much as this pains me to say, we’re going to have to go shopping. I think it would be best if I bought a hijab to wear. It wouldn’t look out of place with the Muslim population here, and it would keep my head covered.”

He nodded, a feeling of relief filling him as he picked up their laptops and headed to the door. A hijab would cover her head almost completely, leaving only her face bare. It would be an effective disguise. But no one looking at her light skin and blue eyes was ever going to take her for a native. “You’ve given this some thought,” he murmured, as she trailed behind him out the door.

“I’m full of ideas,” she said cryptically.

The words didn’t exactly ease the band of tension in his chest. There was only one thing that would. To make sure they kept a tight lid on any ideas that put her front and center of this operation.

_______

Zupan was snoring
loudly. Malsovic shot the man a murderous glance from his spot two seats over. The boy was between them, whether asleep or still barely conscious from the latest injection he’d been given, it was hard to tell. Nor did it matter.

The kid was a troublemaker. Just as he had been in the Suburban, during that first plan to take him. Hobart had fucked up, of course. But all would have been well had the boy not made hassles.

The flight to Malaysia was a long one, but Malsovic had always had a problem sleeping on a plane. And now there was too much to worry about. He had many contacts in Malaysia, as in all of Southeast Asia. Contacts that could get a message to bin Osman. And to others, who might be compelled to pay for the boy if bin Osman could not be persuaded.

But despite the plans he’d put into motion, he was aware of the many ways they could go awry.

He hadn’t expected to keep Zupan alive this long, but the man had come in handy dealing with the boy. So Malsovic had grudgingly paid for the man’s cruise fare to the Bahamas along with the two tickets he’d already purchased. And the flight from Nassau to Johor Bahru. It was more expensive to fly there than to Kuala Lumpur. But Zupan had plumped up Malsovic’s bankroll when he’d managed to divert Gallagher’s payment from Shuang’s account to his own.

Smiling as he thought of the extra cash, he gave a nod. Yes, Zupan came in handy. He had shaved his beard and then dyed his own and the boy’s hair to a similar mud brown for the passport photos. The two could pass for father and son even if one looked closely at the passports and birth certificate that Malsovic had produced. Malsovic had let his own beard grow, so his photo with the Band-Aid below his eye and the shadowed jaw looked a bit different than the picture on his last passport. There was also the fact that authorities would be looking for two people traveling together and not three.