CHAPTER ONE
Special Agent Faith Bold slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “Fuck!” she cried. Then, softer, her hands tangling in her hair. “Fuck.”
Turk whined softly, and Special Agent Jessica Torres laid a hand on her partner’s shoulder. Faith took a deep breath, released it slowly, and dropped her fingers back to the wheel. Her left thumb tapped on the worn leather as she looked at the van.
Scratches adorned the dark blue paint, and chunks of dirt decorated the tires.
The windows were covered in dust, and the left two had sagged to the rims in the soft mud.
It looked otherwise undamaged and could probably be driven out of here pretty easily and returned to Hertz, but the man Faith was looking for was no longer inside of it.
Jessica spoke up quietly from the passenger seat. “Hey, Michael. We found the van. David’s not here.”
The day before, Faith’s husband, Dr. David Friedman, had been kidnapped in the parking lot of the FBI Academy where he ran the K-9 School’s Veterinary Office. The driver, a man clad head to toe in a black bodysuit and ski mask, had incapacitated his bodyguards, dragged him into this van and fled.
Faith was now looking at the van used to kidnap him. The empty, abandoned van.
She put her phone on speaker so Faith could hear her former partner’s response. “Okay. That means they switched vehicles. Do you see a second pair of tire tracks?”
Jessica opened the door and leaned out the window. “I see some bent grass, but it’s hard to tell if it’s tire tracks or not.”
Faith looked through the window. She saw the grass Jessica was talking about.
Two patched about five and a half feet apart canted very slightly forward.
She took a breath and said, “They’re definitely vehicle tracks, but they’re old.
We’ll follow it as long as we can, but more likely than not, the trail’s going to go cold.
They made this switch a while ago, probably within an hour after they took him. ”
“Shit. Okay. Do your best.”
Faith pressed her eyes shut and said, “Michael… We need to go to the base. We need to see if he’s there.”
Michael sighed. “If you do that, they’ll just take you too. Or they’ll hide him somewhere you won’t be allowed to go, and when you try, they’ll have you arrested.”
“I have to try, Michael! He’s my husband!”
“I know, but if they kidnapped him, then they’re not going to kill him.”
“Really? They’re not going to drag him out to the wilderness, kill him, bury his body, and leave him there so they can claim they had nothing to do with it?”
Michael didn’t answer. Which was answer enough. “I’m calling some people about getting eyes inside the base. They can’t be your eyes, all right? Neither of you. Not Rogers or Hammerton either.”
“Well, they’re not going to have eyes on anyone for another three days, at least,” Jessica said. “Whatever they tagged ‘em with, it’s made them groggy enough that Hozier wants them in the hospital.”
“He wants them in the hospital because he knows they’re blaming themselves, and he doesn’t want them doing anything stupid. Which is exactly what I don’t want either of you doing. Smythe’s talking to the base commander, and—”
“The base commander isn’t going to know shit, Michael!” Faith exploded.
“I know. Which is why I’m trying to get eyes inside. But they can’t be your eyes. We’ll get him back, Faith. I promise.”
“You can’t make that promise,” Faith muttered, rubbing her eyes. “Shit, David.”
A few months ago, Faith’s husband, Dr. David Friedman, had examined a German shepherd at the FBI K9 School’s veterinary office.
That shepherd had shown signs of trauma and abuse, prompting her big-hearted, well-meaning David to go on a crusade to find out what was happening to her.
That crusade had landed him in hot water with the 93rd Testing Brigade, a Marine Corps unit that turned out to actually be a CIA unit.
He’d survived one attempt on his life already when Michael showed up in the nick of time to rescue him.
Now he was gone, and if he wasn’t dead yet, it was only because they were going to torture him until they knew everything he had found out about them.
Damn it, David. Why couldn’t you just let it go?
And almost immediately, David’s reason, given to her when she asked him that same question, or rather demanded that course of action, shortly after learning what he was doing.
What if it was Turk?
Tears welled in her eyes. It wasn’t Turk. It was other dogs, and now it was her husband. She felt selfish thinking that way, but she couldn’t help herself. The man she loved was in danger, and she would sacrifice anything to get him back.
“Follow the trail,” Michael repeated. “I’ll be there in two hours. Then I’ll take over the FBI response and get things really moving.”
Faith’s head hurt too much to decide if that was going to make a difference or not. She sniffed and said, “All right.”
“Jessica?” Michael said. “You drive, Faith’s—”
“I can drive my own car, Michael,” Faith said, cutting him off and starting the engine of her Ford Crown Victoria. The V8 responded with a throaty basso rumble that Faith normally found encouraging but today just sounded old and tired. Just like her.
She turned toward the grass and accelerated, moving slowly up the gentle slope.
The trail was actually easier to follow then she expected since sunlight reflected differently off of the bent grass and highlighted the path the second vehicle had taken.
The car slid sideways on the slick terrain, and she shifted into low gear and pushed the pedal down.
The rear wheels tore grass out by the roots as they spun, but they slowly pushed the big sedan up the hill toward the road where a faint twin stripe of black curved westward, away from Marine Corps Base Quantico, away from the FBI Academy, away from home.
Faith pulled the car to a stop again and stared blankly ahead at the setting sun. Turk whined again, and Jessica sighed heavily and squeezed Faith’s shoulder.
Panic bubbled just under the surface of Faith’s mind, but it didn’t break through. She was just too tired. Just so tired.
Her phone buzzed, and she jumped hard enough to smack her head on the sedan’s headliner. She gritted her teeth and muttered another oath, gripping the wheel hard enough that the leather creaked under her hand.
Faith flinched again and stared at her phone. She didn’t recognize the number. That could be David, or it could be whoever had taken him calling to gloat or to warn her. She answered with a tentative, “Hello?”
“Hey, Faith.”
Relief flooded her at the sound of David’s voice. The air escaped from her lungs in a rush, and Turk barked happily, tail thudding happily back and forth in the rear seat. Jessica flopped back into the passenger seat and muttered, “Thank God.”
Then reality set in. Just because David wasn’t alive didn’t mean he was safe. “Where are you?” Faith asked. “What are they doing to you?”
“So… the short version is that it’s not they. It’s just one guy. And we are going to stop the 93rd Testing Brigade.”
The car went silent. Faith stared at the phone, not quite able to register what was happening. Turk tilted his head, confused. Jessica blinked, mouth open in a comical expression of shock.
“I’m sorry,” Faith finally said. “What?”
“I can’t tell you his name, but I’m with the informant who sent us all that information. We’ve located the records center for the project, and we’re going to gather data and evidence and turn it into the FBI, the Supreme Court, and the Pentagon. We’re going to bring everything down!”
He sounded excited. God damn him, he actually sounded happy.
Faith pressed the middle finger of her left hand to her temple and said, “Umm… Who are you with, exactly?”
“The informant. He kidnapped me, but only because he didn’t want the 93rd knowing what had happened. He knows where to get the information we need to take the unit down. We’re going to stop them once and for all.”
Faith took a deep breath, steepled her fingers in front of her, and said, “David, I need you to tell me where you are, right now.”
“I can’t. They could be monitoring your phone.”
Yet you just told me your entire plan.
“My phone’s encrypted,” Faith said.
That was true, but the CIA could easily crack through the FBI’s standard encryption for field agents. Faith didn’t particularly care. She wanted to know where David was and get to him.
But what if they get to him first?
Her head throbbed again. Damn it, David!
“David, just…” Faith took another deep breath. “Listen, whatever that guy’s telling you, it’s not true. You are in danger, you need to—”
“Faith? Miss Bold?”
The new voice was soft, high-pitched, almost tremulous. It sounded almost like it was designed to put Faith at ease. See? Listen to me. I’m harmless.
“Special Agent Bold of the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” Faith said sternly. “And unless you’re going to identify yourself, put my husband back on the line.”
“He’s telling the truth,” the voice replied. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
“You already hurt him,” Faith said. “You drugged him and kidnapped him out of an FBI parking lot. You evaded arrest and fled. If you fled across state lines, then you committed an even greater felony. We have dozens of agents looking for you.”
“I know. They won’t find us. But you might. You’re good. Very good. So, I’m asking you please trust me.”
Faith barked a short, sharp laugh. “Buddy, we’re way beyond trust. You’re going to give my husband back, or I’m going to hurt you. You under—”
Jessica cleared her throat and shook her head. Faith pressed her lips together, lifted the hand not holding the phone, and let it drop. “Bring my husband back.”