The Collected

hear what was going on.

“…manhunt.” Jake’s voice, distant but understandable. “What happened to the man you apprehended in Reynosa?”

Someone else spoke up, an accented voice that she guessed belonged to the cop. “We didn’t catch anyone. The manhunt failed.”

“Try again.”

“I’m telling you, we didn’t catch anyone.”

There was a loud bang. Liz jerked her head back, her ear ringing.

What in God’s name was that?

She lowered her head again, but her ear was temporarily useless, so she turned and tried the other one.

Her brother again. “But there was a man?”

“Yes.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Is this him?”

“Yes.”

Nate? Are they talking about Nate? They must be.

“Where did you fly him to?” her brother asked.

“Outside…outside Tampico.”

She continued to listen until the man stopped responding, then made her way quickly out of the building and all the way back to where her brother had parked his car.

Her mind was running a mile a minute. Not only had her worst fears been realized-no, not worst, but damn close-she’d also heard how ruthless her brother could be, the bang she’d heard undoubtedly a gunshot. She knew she should be horrified, but she didn’t feel that way.

She felt a sense of…satisfaction.

She focused her thoughts back on Nate. What could she do? How could she help him get free? Could she do anything at all?

Though deep down she feared the answer was no, she wasn’t willing to give up yet.

Her brother’s next, logical stop would have to be Tampico, wouldn’t it? Though Nate wasn’t there anymore, maybe there’d be something that would point to where he’d been taken.

She spotted a cab turning onto the street a block away. She stepped out into the middle of the road and waved her hand.

“Aeropuerto,” she said as she climbed in. “Rapido.”

When she arrived at the airport, she was able to get onto a flight that was leaving forty minutes later. The next flight out wasn’t for another two hours. She sat in her seat, her eyes glued to the door, expecting Jake and the others to come through it at any moment, but the doors closed without them boarding. She was going to beat them there.

For a moment, she felt relieved. But it didn’t last long.

What if they’re not going to Tampico at all?

CHAPTER 31

Nate barely parted his eyelids as the door to his cell opened.

Janus entered, carrying something. “I bring water for you.”

“Go away,” Nate whispered.

A laugh, deep and scornful.

There was a clacking sound Nate couldn’t place, followed by a moment of nothing, then pain, everywhere pain, as a bucketload of water splashed down on the exposed wounds across his back.

Arcing his whole body, Nate screamed. “You bastard!”

He wanted nothing more than to jump up and slam a fist into Janus’s face, but his legs refused to move off the bed.

More laughter as the pain echoed in waves, each as strong as the last. Nate cringed as he tried to force the pain away. He could feel another scream of agony growing in his belly, but he refused to release it.

“Get. Out!” he managed.

“You want more water, you let me know,” Janus said. “Oh, and even if you are tempted, I would not lie on my back if I were you.”

There was a final bout of laughter as the man left and the door closed.

Sleep. I just need to sleep, Nate thought, desperately clawing at oblivion.

But as soon as his mind started to relax, there was another scream from down the hall as Janus played his water trick on one of Nate’s cellmates.

Nate slowly moved his hand into his pants pocket and gripped the bolt, as if it were a talisman that could give him the power he needed. Surprisingly, doing so seemed to relieve a bit of the pain, and he finally felt sleep begin to sweep over him.

As it did, he thought he heard Liz’s voice again.

“Keep your head clear, and always be ready. It’s the only way you’ll make it.”

“I love you,” he mouthed soundlessly. “I love…”

CHAPTER 32

Eastern Mexico

The names on the Post-its were once more nagging at Quinn. Maybe it was just being on a plane again, but he was sure there was something there.

Peter. Berkeley. And either himself or Nate.

He tried slotting in each of the other names, looking for a combination that might ring a bell.

No.

No.

No.

Nothing. No set of players that made any sense.

He finally gave up and looked over at Orlando. She had her laptop open, and, against airline regulations, connected to the Internet via an unused channel she’d hacked into through the plane’s own datalink system.

“Anything on the cargo plane?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. Got that a while ago,” she said.

“And you weren’t going to tell me?”

“You were resting.”

“I was not resting.”

“Well, that’s what it looked like.”

He frowned. “So, the plane?”

“Byrd Cargo. Named after founder Norman Byrd. Established nineteen sixty-five. Based out of Tampa, Florida.”

“Anything on the specific aircraft?”

“On a long-term charter.”

“To who?”

“A company called Gene/Sea International. And before you ask, they don’t exist.”

“And Byrd Cargo knows this?”

“No. Gene/Sea’s got a pretty good front. Websites, bank accounts, PR releases. They claim to be a biochem company focused on the ocean. Even have a few research papers you can download. All very legit-looking.”

“But they’re not real.”