Even Jess had heard about the incident in Haiti on CNN. She had no idea Alexa had anything to do with the aftermath of those tragic abductions. And with the added complication of the hurricane bearing down on Cuba, Jess understood why Garrett needed the extra help. Having Seth in New York had been a stroke of good fortune.
But Harper had his own thoughts on the subject.
“Yeah, I want to help Alexa, but why me?” Seth asked. “You’ve got all the spy toys and probably an army of computer wizards to work this. Why all the cloak-and-dagger to bring me in?”
Seth made his intentions known. He’d help for the sake of a friend, but he wanted Garrett to give him something, like a little more honesty.
“Bottom line, it takes time to hunt down the source of a transmission like this. And with lives at stake and the nasty weather, time is not on our side,” Garrett told him. “My people could use the extra help. Do you have any idea how we can trace the source of this video?”
Seth furrowed his brow to form that endearing crease she’d seen many times before. And in typical Harper fashion, he answered without hesitation, making the complicated appear simple.
“Yeah, I think I do. But you have to understand that terrorists use the Internet to avoid detection…or so I’ve heard,” Seth began. “And there’s a reason for that. Chasing online accounts can be next to impossible if the Internet service provider is international. Some countries aren’t into holding hands, singing ‘Kumbaya,’ and doling out goodwill to all mankind. And if the terrorists are savvy, they buy phone service using Internet numbers that can be paid by wire transfer from someone using fake ID. So that becomes a dead end fast. They could also transmit through a handler who acts like a middleman, and we’d be chasing our tails.”
Harper had Tanya’s attention. The woman fixed her gaze on him and didn’t waver. “So what do you propose?” she asked.
“I say we forget about wasting time with tracking down ISP addresses and dead-end phone numbers. Let’s cut to the chase and trace high-density bandwidths. That video transmission upload takes some juice and the high-density bandwidth will stand out like a flare in cyberspace in that part of the world.”
Garrett cocked his head and leaned closer to Harper. “And you can do this?”
“Well, yeah. Sure.” He shrugged, as if the man had asked him if he knew how to ride a bike. “With a process of elimination, we can find the source of that transmission. And your satellite capability will allow us to triangulate the signal and track them. Once we pinpoint their position, we’ll know what to look for when they transmit again.”
“That just might work,” Tanya agreed.
Garrett grinned. “Exactly what I wanted to hear. You’ve been reading my mail, Seth.”
“No, but give me a little time, and I might.” Harper nodded with a deadpan expression.
“He’s only joking, Garrett.” Jess forced a laugh and nudged Harper in the ribs.
“I’ve got a workstation set up for you, Seth. Whatever you need, you come to me,” Tanya said.
“You’ll report to Tanya,” Garrett told him. “I’m sorry about interrupting your vacation. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“No need, sir. Helping Alexa is good enough for me.” Seth stood and shook Garrett’s hand. Jess suspected Garrett was still sizing him up, but by the look on his face, she could tell he liked what he’d seen so far.
While Tanya cornered Harper, and they launched into geek speak about what he’d need, Jess took the opportunity to have a little one-on-one with Garrett.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked him. “I’ve got to do something.”
“Stick with Harper. If he can pinpoint these bastards, that’ll be crucial intel. And once I get a plan and clearer weather, you’ll get your first assignment. Count on it.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Garrett.”
When another question lurked in her mind, she lowered her voice so Harper wouldn’t hear. “How’s Alexa…I mean, really?”
Up close, she saw the dark circles under Garrett’s eyes, and that told her all she needed to know about how much sleep he’d gotten since Alexa left on assignment. And he didn’t even bother to hide his concern.
Garrett sighed. “I wish I knew.”
Southeast Cuba
Sierra Maestra Mountain Range
In a small clearing, Sister Kate wobbled on her knees, barely able to stay upright. She’d been beaten and shoved to the ground by the cruel man who held her by the hair and wielded a machete. He ordered his man with the video cam to record what he was about to do. She didn’t have to understand his language to know what would come next.
Tears streamed down Kate’s face. And she tasted blood from a cut lip and felt the heat from her swollen cheek.
When the camera lights came on, the glow cast eerie shadows onto the thrashing tree branches. And the blowing rain drenched her face and tunic. Armed men gathered around—a threatening horde backlit by the light— mocking her in a language she was thankful she didn’t understand. They took turns spitting at her. And after her hands were tied behind her back, one young man earned cheers when he grabbed her breasts and squeezed. She winced with the pain.
But she kept her eyes on the camera.
Once the red light came on, she knew precious seconds would be all she’d have left. Time slowed to a painstaking crawl. She heard the beat of her heart, a relentless thud in her ears. The intensifying sound dulled the noise of the agitated men and muffled their insults. And when she felt the man yank her hair, she braced herself. He shifted his weight and tightened his grip.
That was when the red light flicked on.
And she shut her eyes.
CHAPTER 11
Southeast Cuba
Sierra Maestra Mountain Range
Alexa and her team searched for shelter with mounting desperation. The howling storm showed no signs of stopping and the winds were strong enough to knock a man off his feet. Carrying an unconscious Kinkaid made the climb exhausting and slow.
Steep ground had turned into rivers of mud and debris, making each step slick and treacherous. Her boots were caked in soppy clay that made them heavy. And her clothes clung to her body, drenched from the pelting rain. With the gear she carried on her back, Alexa felt like she was walking through quicksand. She leaned into the wind and, for every step forward, stumbled back and fought the storm.
A streak of lightning washed a bluish haze over the windswept trees and stone cliffs jutting from the mountainside. A stroke of luck. Alexa saw a dark shadow cut into rock. She knew she’d found the right spot, the one she’d seen before.
“This is it!” she yelled, waving her arm to show her men the way. She squinted into the blowing rain and wiped away the hair clinging to her face. “Get him inside.”
It had taken two men—Lewis and Booker—to carry Kinkaid from where he’d fallen to a dugout carved into the side of a cliff. Even inside, rain leached through stone crevasses. And the interior of the cavern was like a sieve, with water following gravity and forming rivulets in the eroded sandy soil. The sound of the rushing water echoed in the dark chasm, magnifying the noise tenfold.
Getting out of the wind had made a big difference. Alexa flashed a light onto the walls to look for higher ground. Others on her team did the same. Beams strafed the inside of the cavern, and good fortune shone back again.
The cave was deeper than she first thought.
