Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
“ W e’ll find him.”
Jasmine nodded, but her heart twisted painfully in her chest.
They had to.
Pat drove like a man possessed, weaving through traffic with precision, barely braking as he cut past slower cars. His hands gripped the wheel, his jaw locked in that impenetrable way that told her he was already one step ahead.
How could he be so sure?
“Ed Hollis from the FBI is meeting us at the office,” Pat said, his voice tight. “They’ve got resources—traffic cams, database cross-checks, pattern analysis. My operator caught the make and plate of the vehicle. We’ll find them.”
Her hands clenched into fists. “I pray you’re right. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Ryan.”
Pat reached over, squeezing her thigh briefly before returning his grip to the wheel. “It won’t. They won’t kill him—not yet. They need leverage to keep you quiet.”
“How can you be sure?” she croaked.
“Because I know Al-Jabiri.” Pat’s tone was grim. “He’s a manipulative bastard. He’s going to play you, terrify you into compliance.”
Jasmine swallowed hard. “But I don’t know anything. That’s the irony of it. He kept me in the dark the entire time.”
“You know about his PTSD. You know things Counter Terrorism can use against him.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “I suppose so.”
Pat shot her a glance. “He might try to negotiate—trade you for Ryan.”
A wave of cold dread settled in her gut. “You think Amir will reach out to me?”
“There’s a real possibility.” His voice dropped into that steady, commanding register she was coming to rely on. “If he does, we have to be ready. We can use it to our advantage.”
She exhaled shakily. “What should I say?”
“We’ll talk about that when we get to the office.”
The same giant of a man who’d driven them to Patrick’s place met them in the underground parking lot. Like most military men, his expression was unreadable. “Special Agent Ed Hollis and his partner are in your office,” he told Pat. “They’ve been tracking the vehicle.”
Jasmine’s pulse leaped. “Have they found it?”
Blade hesitated. “I’ll let them explain.”
Oh, no. That didn’t sound good.
They rode the elevator to the Blackthorn operational team headquarters and stepped out into a plush lobby area. She followed Patrick and Blade through a set of glass doors into an open plan office filled with state-of-the-art equipment, enormous television screens, and computers. A handful of administrative personnel strode about purposefully. The operators were easy to spot, for they were larger and tougher-looking than anybody else.
Patrick marched past everybody and into an adjoining office, in which stood a solid man with sharp eyes and the coiled tension of someone used to high-stakes situations.
“Ed.” He shook hands with the agent. “Appreciate you coming in.”
“Always,” Hollis said, then turned to Jasmine. “Ms. McCarthy. I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
“Have you found my son?” she asked, breathless.
“We’ve got a lead.”
She nearly collapsed onto the floor. Thank God.
“What are we looking at?” Pat asked, his voice cool and controlled.
Hollis nodded to his partner, a plainclothes officer in a sharp suit. “Sergeant Cooper, fill them in.”
Cooper cleared his throat. “Thanks to your operator, we tracked the Toyota heading west on I-495 shortly after the abduction.”
Pat gave a sharp nod. “Go on.”
“They turned north on Route 29 and surfaced again in Silver Spring. We’ve got local LEOs in the area, keeping an eye out. An alert’s out on the vehicle.”
“What if they switch cars?” Pat asked.
“That’s our biggest concern,” Cooper admitted. “But my guess is they’re holed up somewhere, waiting for the heat to die down.”
Pat’s expression darkened. “Who’s the car registered to?”
“It was reported stolen yesterday. No clear links to a known suspect.”
Jasmine’s heart sank. “So we don’t know where they are?”
Pat’s gaze sharpened. “Where’s your phone?”
She pulled it out of her back pocket and held it up. “Here.”
“They’ll contact you,” he said. “It’s their best play.”
Her throat tightened. “And if they don’t?”
Pat didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned to Blade. “Get a trace set up. If her phone rings, I want to know where that call is coming from before the second ring.”
Blade held out his hand and she handed over the device. He nodded his thanks and left the room.
Jasmine felt sick.
Please let them call. At least then she could do something.
There was a knock on the door and a pretty blonde assistant stuck her head into the room. “Sir, there’s been a development at the house.”
Jasmine stiffened. “Which house?”
Pat’s, Amir’s, hers?
Pat’s expression darkened. “I’ll be right out.”
He turned to Jasmine, his voice gentler. “Stay with Hollis. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded numbly, barely aware of the detective speaking next to her.
“Ms. McCarthy,” Hollis said, in a reassuring tone. “We’re throwing everything we have at this. I promise you—we will bring your son home.”
She nodded again, her throat too tight to speak.
They were trying.
All of them.
She only prayed it would be enough.