Velocity

“Yes, Mr. Administrator, I’m here with ASAC Gifford and Agent Vail. I’m putting you on speaker.” DeSantos listened a moment, then gestured to Gifford, who pressed a button. “He’s bringing Yardley online.”

A moment later, DEA administrator Bronson McGuire’s voice filtered through the speaker. “Yardley and I are here. What’s the problem?”

“Sir, Karen Vail. I’ve just been briefed on Roberto Hernandez’s undercover op.” Would’ve been nice to put me in the loop, asshole. “I was with him when we—”

“Yes, yes, Agent Vail. I’m familiar with the op. What’s the problem?” he repeated.

Vail clenched her jaw. Emotions in check. “When he went . . . missing, the Napa County major crimes task force began an all-out search. I obtained a photo to distribute to the LEOs for them to show around the community. I needed a picture fast, and I used one I had from a few weeks ago. We took it at the FBI Academy.” She paused, as if the next sentence was too painful to utter. But she pressed forward nonetheless. “We took it in front of the academy sign.”

There was silence, so Vail continued.

“You could see the large ‘FBI’ lettering.” She closed her eyes. “I showed the photo to Cesar Guevara. And I may’ve referred to him as ‘a colleague of mine.’” At the verbalization of those facts, Vail began to perspire. No, dammit, she was sweating. The implication was clear: she had inadvertently blown Robby’s cover. And the fact that they had lost contact with their undercover agents could only portend a less than optimistic result.

“Well,” McGuire said, “this is just fucking goddamn great. Nice work, Agent Vail.”

“Now hang on a minute, sir,” Gifford said. “Agent Vail was not privy to what was going on. She did what any of us would’ve done if a fellow officer went missing. The . . . unintended consequences are very bad, no question. But to blame her—”

“Sorry if I hurt Agent Vail’s feelings,” McGuire said. “But tough shit. We’ve got a situation here, and it’s a fucking bad one. Thanks for all your help.”

The call disconnected.

DeSantos put his hands on his hips and began pacing. Vail sat there seething. And Gifford stared at the silent telephone.

“We’ve gotta find him, Hector.” Vail was now on her feet.

DeSantos looked at her. The resigned tilt of his head reflected his thoughts: it was probably too late.

Gifford said, “It’s not your fault, Karen. If I hadn’t done this favor for him, he never would’ve been on this op. If anything, it’s my fault.”

“Assigning blame isn’t going to help anyone,” DeSantos said. “No one could’ve foreseen this.” He stopped pacing. “This is a DEA operation. They’ve got assets in place that could find him a lot faster than we could.”

“Are you saying we shouldn’t try?” Vail asked, then turned to Gifford, who was still lost in thought. “Sir, please.”

Gifford pulled his gaze to Vail. “Find him. Whatever it takes, bring him back. Preferably alive.”

Vail looked at DeSantos. “You with me?”

DeSantos licked his lips, hands still on his hips. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

46

Once they’d cleared the stairs outside the BAU, Vail stopped. She grabbed the railing. “I blew it, Hector. Do you think—did I get Robby killed?”

DeSantos put his arm around Vail’s shoulders. “I sure hope not. I’m not gonna lie to you. This is bad. His cover’s been compromised. We’re behind the eight ball on this. But you’ve got friends on the task force in Napa?”

Vail nodded.

“Call them. Have them find Guevara. Take him somewhere, legal or not, and sweat him. Will they do that? Will they grab him up without a warrant?”

She hesitated. “Maybe.”

“Convince them. Whatever it takes, they’ve gotta find out what he knows. It may be our only chance. Meantime, I’m gonna reach out to some people and see what I can do.”

He pulled his phone, then turned back to Vail. “Now. Make the call.”

Vail mentally slapped herself. Get with it, Karen. Freak out later. She called Dixon. Brix was in the car with her, so he could hear what she had to say.

“I’m about to ask you a favor, and it’s going to jeopardize your careers. But I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, then Dixon said, “Go on.”

“Brix, have you been briefed—”

“I’m up to speed.”

“Okay. Listen to me. Cesar Guevara was the target of a DEA operation. Robby was brought in by his friend Antonio Sebastiani de Medina—Sebastian—to work the case with him. He was only supposed to handle one transaction, but Robby’s meet with Guevara went well, and his role expanded.”

“I thought Robby was a detective with some small town in Virginia,” Brix said. “Venice?”

“Vienna. Long story, and it’s unimportant. He got this gig with DEA, hoping it’d lead to a permanent position. So now we have the connection between Robby and Guevara. That’d explain Ian Wirth’s address in Guevara’s house, in Robby’s handwriting. Robby was probably helping Guevara at that point. Maybe it was a test. I don’t know—I don’t know if we’ll ever know. But you’ve got to find Guevara. Before it’s too late.”

“I’m turning the car around right now. We’ll check Superior first.”

“There’s still not enough for a warrant, so you’re going to need to grab him up and take him somewhere.” Vail realized she was on an open cell connection—but there was no time. Robby’s life was of paramount concern. If she lost her career but saved him, it’d be worth it. Then again, if she lost her career and he turned up dead— no, I can’t think that way. He’s alive. He’s alive.

“I’m texting Mann,” Brix said. “Get him over to Guevara’s house. Just in case.”

“One thing you should know,” Vail said. “Robby and Sebastian missed their last three check-ins with their DEA case agent. And Guevara left a voice mail for me a little while ago that said Robby was dead. He made it sound like he wasn’t responsible, but that he knew who was.”

“Don’t believe that scumbag,” Dixon said. “If he’s got information, we’ll get it.”

“Thanks, guys.”

“Hang in there,” Brix said. “We’ll be in touch.”

Vail looked up. DeSantos was ending his call. “C’mon. We’ve got a meet with a guy who’s gonna get some info for us.”

“Who is he?”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell. Best that way.”

Vail pulled herself up from the steps. “If he’s got the info we need, I couldn’t give a shit who he is.”

47

Dixon took the turn too fast, and the car dovetailed. Brix grabbed the dashboard with his right hand but couldn’t keep his shoulder from pushing up against the door.

“Sorry,” Dixon said. “Make sure your seat belt’s fastened because I don’t intend on going the speed limit.”

“How hard do you want to push this?”

“I intend on coming away with answers, Redd. Simple as that. This guy’s wrapped up in this. He might’ve had something to do with the Lugo kidnapping. He may’ve had something to do with aiding John Mayfield. And he apparently has something to do with Robby’s disappearance. I don’t plan on giving him a Coke and a slice of lime and treating him like he’s at a spa.”

But Dixon was well aware that Brix had recently given her and Vail a hard time about entering Cesar