“What do you think happened?” he asked his man.
“Don’t know, sir. I’m trying to figure that out. Got cut off midtransmission.”
“Keep trying, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hank didn’t like being in the dark on a sensitive mission like this one. His team was on the front line of the op. If they couldn’t find out what had happened, the mission could be scrapped. And Hank didn’t want that to happen on his watch.
“What about our target’s vitals, Doc?” Hank directed his question to the medic on his team. “Did we get a reading before we lost the signal?”
“I saw enough to know the target is an extremely agitated state. His breathing is irregular, and his heart rate is erratic. Up one minute and down the next. From my experience, the lower heart rate comes when the body is fighting off torture. It’s a natural instinct.”
“Is he in danger from a medical standpoint?” Hank asked. “Do we need to pull the plug?”
“I can’t tell you. I didn’t get enough of a data feed to form an opinion other than his body is under a great deal of stress, and one other thing.” The medic fixed his gaze on Hank. “If we had to attempt a rescue, we’d probably have to carry him out.”
Hank narrowed his eyes, considering what the man had told him.
“Thanks, Doc.” And to his communications man, Hank said, “Let me know if Guerrero leaves the compound. We’re still tracking his cell-phone GPS, right?”
“Yes, sir. If he moves, I’ll know it.”
Ramon Guerrero was their backup plan. Intel tracked a cell-phone signal from the moment the target had been taken hostage. One of the gang members had initiated a call to report what had happened. And Hank’s team was already set to take advantage of that mistake. His team monitored any cell-phone signal detected in the general vicinity. Once they eliminated any legitimate cell-phone user through a background check, they narrowed their search to phones that could not be linked to a name. It was a surveillance tactic that had paid off in the fight against al-Qaeda.
Coupled with ground surveillance of the abduction, they eventually tracked the signal into Mexico, near Juárez, the stronghold of Ramon Guerrero, a known drug-cartel leader. After another sweep of cell-phone usage inside the compound, they used the process of elimination to isolate Guerrero’s cell phone and had followed him and his men to Guadalajara, to the estate of another drug kingpin in the organization. Odds were that if the target was still alive, Guerrero would be close by. It was the best they could do without knowing more.
Hank’s team had been fed coordinates through a handler, a man who monitored the transmission via satellite. Until now, they had stuck close to the target, moving as ordered. But with the target being in danger, and the burst transmitter potentially compromised, Hank knew the handler would have to kick the problem to the next level, the decision maker who was running the op.
Hank reached for the encrypted phone he’d use to communicate with his handler, a middleman in the operation. Although Hank was in command of the ground team, he didn’t know who they were tracking inside the drug cartel or why the mission had required the secrecy. That bit of intel was on a need-to-know basis. Only one man knew all the details and would make the final call on every aspect of the mission. Communicating through the handler, he would direct Hank’s team to carry out his orders.
But if the burst transmitter’s signal was gone, they were flying blind. And the poor bastard on the inside would be on his own.
“Damn it,” Hank cursed.
Chapter 4
New York City
Evening
Instinct had Alexa fixing her eyes on the reflection in a store window as she walked down Broadway. Display lights and neon signs cast enough light for her to see something she didn’t like. She’d stopped suddenly, pretending to have an interest in a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos.
That was when she caught the exchange.
A man had stopped short and looked across the street. Two men were following her, one in a dark business suit and the other in jeans, a Yankees ball cap, and a white T-shirt with a logo across his chest, too small for her to read. Their reaction had been subtle, but it was enough to trigger her survival instincts. From experience and training, she knew to trust her gut and take action. Indecision was not an option. And in the field, to hesitate might get her killed.
Without turning around, Alexa assessed her situation. If the men were connected to a surveillance team, they’d have a backup plan if she hailed a cab. And they could track the cab through the taxi company. Without thinking, she quickly ducked into the store and made her way to the back. When she saw a salesclerk heading for her, she smiled and waved her off.
“You got a way out back? I’m trying to avoid an old boyfriend. You know how it goes.”
“Sure do, honey.” The sharply dressed saleswoman pointed toward the dressing rooms. “We got a loading dock through those doors, and good luck ditching the jerk.”
Within a minute, Alexa was on foot down an alley. She cut through another store and changed course again until she had lost the two men tailing her, but that didn’t mean she was in the clear.
When she found a main thoroughfare, she took a risk and hailed a cab. She was already late. If she didn’t rush, the bank would be closed when she got there.
And without the contents of her safe-deposit box, she’d be dead in the water.
Sentinels’ Headquarters
“She tried to ditch us, but we picked her up again.”
“Where is she?” Donovan Cross asked the agent who headed the second surveillance team tracking Marlowe.
“Bank of America. We’ve got eyes inside the bank. She’s in the vault, accessing a safe-deposit box. What do you want us to do?”
Cross didn’t like the sounds of this. If Marlowe was like any other good agent, she had a plan to ditch her identity and become someone else. And the contents of her safe-deposit box would help her do that. He knew from personal experience that she’d have fake passports and IDs, cash from several countries, and myriad ways for her to stay off the grid. A seasoned field agent like Alexa Marlowe would have stashed plenty of ways for her to get very lost.
“Don’t let her out of your sight, do you understand?” Cross found it hard to keep the urgency from his voice.
“Copy that. When she leaves the vault, we’ll be on her sweet ass.”
“Just call me when she leaves.” Cross ended the call and tossed his cell onto Garrett’s desk.
Arrogant son of a bitch! Cross had more respect for Alexa than the pompous jerk following her, and he hoped he wouldn’t regret giving the assignment to a young agent with something to prove.
“What are you up to, Marlowe?” He sprawled in his chair and stared across Garrett Wheeler’s office. “And what have you got stashed at that bank?”
Cross had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer to that question.
Sentinels’ Headquarters
Twenty minutes later
“We lost her.” Donovan Cross hated failure, especially when he had to be the one to admit he’d underestimated Alexa Marlowe. “I had a team on her when she left headquarters, but she gave them the slip.”