“Evana, if you hurt a hair on her head, so help me God, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself.”
Evana burst into laughter. "You know what's funny? Your daughter actually said that, too, like it was true. But neither one of you are fooling me. You wouldn't last six hours in the desert."
“Is that where you have her?”
“Does that mean you’re willing to deal?”
“Not a chance.”
“Not a chance?” Evana said, reveling in the panic spreading over Olivia’s face. “That’s a bit harsh. Not even for your own daughter.”
“The United States of America doesn’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“Oh, you can stop pretending like the news cameras are capturing this, Mr. President. We both know the truth.”
“That is the truth,” Young said with a growl.
“Well, just in case it isn’t, I’m going to give you twenty-four hours to reconsider your answer. And if you do, I’d like to propose a simple trade, Farzaad Shirazi for your daughter.”
Evana gave Young a phone number to call her back on before hanging up.
“He’s not going to negotiate with you,” Olivia said.
“You better hope he does,” Evana said. “Because I’ll do more than take your teeth. I’ll take your life.”
CHAPTER 21
July 1
Rosario, Argentina
TITUS BLACK SCANNED the area with his infrared binoculars before signaling that the coast was clear to the rest of his team. A man in the guard hut watched a small television, rarely looking around at the property he was tasked with guarding. Black’s unit, comprised of former CIA field agents and Army Rangers, fanned out around the Nicolo warehouse nestled against the banks of the Parana River.
Because of an agreement with Argentina, Bolivian importers and exporters were allowed to utilize the waterway that ran all the way to the Atlantic. For the landlocked country, it was their best option for going east. All westbound exports had to travel by train or truck. But for a shipment coming to Bolivia from somewhere like Greece, there wasn’t a closer port.
Black radioed to one of his team members that everyone was in place and ordered him to release the woman. One of the CIA’s local contacts helped Black’s group find a woman willing to distract the guard for one hour. She charged five hundred dollars an hour, which Black thought was a deal considering the alternative of a more violent entry.
The woman, clad in a low-cut top and tight skirt, approached the guardhouse and leaned over the small counter. Within seconds, she earned his full attention and began flirting.
“Time to move in,” Black said.
In less than a minute, the team of four scaled the perimeter fence and hustled across the staging yard. Upon reaching the door to the facility, one of the men who went by the codename Bone Crusher picked the lock. Once inside, they started to systematically search the warehouse.
After an hour, they didn’t find anything noteworthy.
“What do you think?” Bone Crusher asked Black.
“If there are any weapons here, I sure as hell don’t see them.”
“They could be moved out already.”
“You keep looking,” Black said. “I’ll take Rusty with me.”
Rusty Lanier nodded and followed Black. They knew each other from their time training at the CIA. While Rusty had long since left the agency to enter the more lucrative private security sector, he was a whiz when it came to analyzing things on the fly. His unique skillset was the main reason Black insisted on Rusty joining the team.
“So, what are we looking for?” Rusty asked.
“We need to look at the shipping manifests and see if we can find anything coming in from Greece that looks like they’re trying to hide,” Black said.
“Roger that.”
They sifted through the files. Rusty knew most of the product codes for international shipping. But after a few minutes, he came across a few he didn’t recognize.
“Do you have Lopez’s notebook?” Rusty asked.
Black nodded and fished the journal out of his pack. “Take a look.”
Rusty flipped through the pages for a moment. “I think we’ve found a winner. Based on everything I’m seeing here, this makes the most sense that these were the weapons.”
“And where were they going?”
“Virginia Beach, Virginia.”
Black’s eyes widened. “That’s not good.”
“According to this manifest, the items left several days ago and are scheduled to reach port on July 3.”
Black pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the manifest. “We need to get back ASAP. This is worse than I imagined.”
CHAPTER 22
Washington, D.C.
ALEX’S PHONE BUZZED with a call from Mallory Kauffman, who was finally able to extract the footage from the satellite after it was re-tasked over the western part of Texas. She sent a file with the recording to Alex to see if she could find anything that’d be helpful.
“Did you take a look at it?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, but I didn’t see anything,” Mallory said. “I hope it’s not a giant waste of your time.”
“Why’s that?”
“By the time the satellite got into position, the Nicolo semi was already parked. I skimmed to the end when I didn’t see any movement around the truck. Then I saw you and Hawk in the frame.”
“And that was it?”
“From my initial quick glance, but you might want to take a look yourself in case I missed something.”
“Okay, fine,” Alex said. “I’ll take a look at it. How long is it?”
“A couple of hours at least.”
“All right, I’ll see what I can do. I appreciate the effort.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“No worries,” Alex said before she hung up.
She clicked open the file and stared at her screen as she mindlessly grabbed a piece of pizza from the several Hawk had ordered for the team. She crammed a slice loaded with bacon, sausage, and pepperoni into her mouth and smiled.
“Good choice?” Hawk asked as he appeared in the open doorway.
“It’s like you know me or something,” Alex said. “Maybe we should
