“Then where?”
“Troy, would you like to explain?”
Troy stood. “Play it again.” He listened and stared at the screen. “Birds don’t fly that close to planes. Not on purpose, anyway. So, an airport is unlikely.”
“Then where are they hiding my Pia?” Russo said.
Troy looked at her. She nodded and took out her phone. “If I’m right, and I think I am,” Troy said, “the kidnappers are hiding somewhere in the Everglades.”
“What? I mean how do you know that?” Russo said, the words pouring from his lips.
“Most airboats—the boats that are used in the Everglades—run on aircraft engines. The birds that live out there are used to them; therefore, they don’t tend to shy away from them as much as you would imagine.”
Russo practically jumped out of his chair. “Then let’s go get them. Let’s find my Pia!”
Troy put his arms out as if to calm Russo. “It’s not that easy. There are thousands of acres out there and tons of places they could hide her. It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
Russo slapped his thighs with his hands. “What do we do? Nothing?”
“No, not nothing,” Sin said. She had connected her phone to the computer. “Watch this video.”
Russo’s eyes got big as he looked at the screen. “Son of a bitch! Where did you get this? Where is he?”
“Who is he?” she asked.
“That’s my nephew, Savio,” Russo spat. “My ex-wife’s nephew.”
Russo snarled at the name. “You don’t seem to be fond of your nephew.”
“He’s a punk. A two-bit crook. He was told not to go anywhere near my daughter. He’s not to be trusted.”
“Another question for another time,” she said. “Look at his eyes.” She replayed the short video Tiffany had taken.
Russo fell back in his chair. “They look just like Pia’s.”
She nodded. “Not as extreme, but similar.”
“Did they drug my daughter?”
She brought up the video of Pia and paused it when she got to the close-up of Pia’s face. Her and Savio’s eyes both had that far-off look. Only Pia’s condition was worse. “Sort of,” she answered.
“What does that mean?” Russo said.
“It means I don’t think they used any drugs you or I know of.”
“Again, Agent O’Malley, I ask you again, what does that mean?”
“I’m a bit lost, myself, Sin,” Troy said. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen a look similar to that before,” she said as she scrolled the address book on her phone, “but I can’t be sure if the cause is the same. I know someone who might be able to help.”
Sin tapped a contact number and waited for someone to answer. When they did, she began to speak Patois. “Priestess, it’s Sinclair O’Malley. I’m in need of your help.” After telling the woman on the other end what was going on, Sin texted her the photos of Pia and Savio. After a few more minutes of consultation, she ended the call. “Troy, do you know anyone at FDLE that patrols the glades? Anyone that might be able to help us pinpoint Pia’s location?”
“I can probably call in a few favors, but I don’t think the FDLE is our best bet.”
“Then who,” Sin and Russo said in unison.
“Do you remember Dan Moesly from high school?”
“Danny? Yeah, what about him?”
“He runs an airboat sightseeing company. He knows the glades better than anyone I know. If anyone can help us, it’s him.”
Sin smiled. “Call him. Tell him we’re looking for a bunch of Jamaicans that are running fast boats in the swamp. If he comes back with anything useful, tell him not to engage. Let him know they’re armed.”
Troy took out his phone. “I’ll give him a call.”
“Not here. Do it on your way to Key West. I need you to get in touch with Tiffany. Pick up Savio. Bring him to the hangar.”
Troy squinted. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word, “but why there?”
“Please,” she said.
Troy nodded and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I’ll get right on it.” He looked at Russo and then back at her. “You going to be okay?”
“We’ll be fine.”
28
After Troy left, Sin sat down next to Russo. “It’s time you and I had a heart-to-heart.”
Still staring at the latest picture of his daughter, all of Russo’s swagger had disappeared. “What do you want to know?”
She handed him a folder of all the downloaded information she had printed. “Let’s start with this.”
Russo flipped through the pages, but only stopped when he came to the photo from his wedding. “You are very good at what you do. Too good to be a government employee. Who exactly are you?”
“I am an FBI agent, but I’ve spent some time as a logistical contractor.”
Mercenary?”
Sin shrugged. “What’s important is that right now, I’m the only chance you have at getting your daughter back alive.”
Russo closed the folder and sat back. “Could I get a glass of water?”
She opened a small fridge that sat behind the desk and handed him a bottle. He took a sip and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all,” she said handing him a white-pearlescent lighter from the top drawer.
“Interesting lighter, you have,” Russo said turning it in his hand. He lit his cigarette and blew. “It matches the grips on your guns.”
She could see his mind working as he spoke. “The files?” she said.
Russo took a deep, long drag from his smoke and exhaled. “I never wanted to be part of ‘Ndrangheta. My father and his before him ruled the family. It was assumed I’d take over.”
“And you did.”
“If you know anything about the company, you know it’s not that easy to say no.”
She nodded.
“I kept our family away from trafficking girls and guns and from killing people. I did what I could to clean up a dirty world.” He shook his head and stamped out his cigarette in the glass ashtray that sat on the desk. “It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could do.
“One of my father’s last orders
