Chapter 13
He’d done the job he’d been sent to do. When Phantom and Draco turned to go back inside the hotel, Crusher remained where he was, watching as the van drove slowly out of the hotel driveway. It rounded the end of the building and disappeared out of sight.
The handoff had gone according to plan. Marsh had arrived on schedule; he had a security team, and they had secured Marta.
A tug at the back of his mind made his eyes narrow. Something was off. The handoff had gone smoothly, so why was his gut screaming at him?
Maybe it was too smooth?
“Do you want me to make the call to Royce?” Draco asked.
Crusher barely heard him. The realization that they’d made a terrible mistake washed over him. He started walking in the direction the van had gone.
“Crusher!” Phantom called out. “Where are you going?”
His steps quickened until he was running. When he rounded the building, the van came into view twenty yards ahead, its brake lights glowing bright red as it slowed. The side panel slid open, and someone was shoved out.
A flash of salt-and-pepper-streaked hair sent alarm bells ringing through Crusher’s mind. He ran faster.
“Crusher!” Marta’s voice cried out as the van door slid closed.
He was still ten yards from the van when the driver hit the accelerator. The tires squealed, gripped the pavement, and shot the vehicle forward, spitting gravel behind it.
Crusher kept running, praying for traffic to slow it enough for him to catch up. He didn’t know what he would do if he did, but he had to try. Marta was in that van, being taken away by God knew who.
His prayers went unanswered as the distance between him and the van became impossible to close. A car honked behind him, swerved and nearly clipped him, making him realize he was running down the middle of the street.
When the van disappeared into the traffic, Crusher slowed to a stop, gasping for air, his heart thundering against his ribs. Marta was gone. He’d brought her through the jungle, past Vasquez’s men in Costa Rica and lost her here in Miami.
“Fuck!” Crusher yelled, spun and ran back to where Marsh lay on the side of the road.
Phantom and Draco had moved him onto the sidewalk to keep him from being run over by other vehicles.
“Is he alive?” Crusher demanded.
Draco removed his fingers from the base of the man’s throat. “He’s got a pulse. He was unconscious when we got to him. Still is. Might have a concussion. Looks like he was hit on the side of the head, and the fall couldn’t have helped.”
“He’d better live so I can kill him,” Crusher said through gritted teeth. “His so-called security team took Marta.”
A moan sounded from the man lying against the concrete sidewalk.
Crusher dropped to his haunches beside the man. “Devon Marsh, wake the fuck up.” When he reached for the man’s shoulders, Draco’s arm shot out, stopping him from grabbing the injured man.
“Give him a second,” Draco said. “He’s coming to.”
“We don’t have a second. Marta’s life might depend on whatever he has to say.” Crusher’s fists clenched and unclenched as he glared at the man who’d set him up to deliver Marta into enemy hands. “Wake up, Marsh.”
Marsh’s eyes blinked open, and he winced at the bright sunshine. “What happened?”
“That’s what the hell I’d like to know,” Crusher said. “Your security team took Marta and dumped you. Who the hell were they, some mercenaries you hired without vetting?”
Marsh’s eyes widened. “They took her, without me?”
“They damn sure did,” Crusher snarled.
Marsh closed his eyes, his head rocking back and forth. “No, no, no,” he moaned. “They were supposed to take me.”
Crusher reached past Draco, gripped Marsh’s shoulders and shook him. “Who are they? Do they work for Vasquez? Where are they taking her?”
Marsh pressed a hand to the bruise on the side of his head and winced. “They were supposed to take me to my daughter.”
Crusher frowned down at the man. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“My daughter.” Marsh struggled to rise.
Crusher helped him to a sitting position.
“Cate,” Marsh looked up at Crusher, his gaze shifting to Draco. “You know. Cate. My daughter.”
Draco moved closer, a frown creasing his forehead. “Cate’s in trouble?”
Marsh nodded, his focus on Draco, not Crusher. “They’ve been holding my daughter hostage to get me to bring Dr. Hale to them in exchange.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Crusher rose to his feet, ready to pound Devon Marsh into the ground.
“This wasn’t about saving Dr. Hale? It was about saving your daughter?
” Crusher grabbed the front of Marsh’s shirt and dragged him to his feet.
“You feel good about trading one life for another?” He shoved the man away. “Bastard, I could kill you.”
Draco caught Marsh before he fell backward and steadied the man. “Crusher, let the man speak. He might be the only connection we have to finding Dr. Hale and Cate.”
Crusher glared at Marsh. “You were the only person in the government we still trusted. I should’ve known better. You got something to say, I suggest you start talking.”
Marsh scrubbed a hand down his face. “I got a call a week ago.”
“Who called you?” Crusher demanded. “I need names.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. He said he had my daughter, Cate. She was working in England.”
“How do you know they had Cate?” Draco asked, his gaze intense. “Did they give you some kind of proof of life?”
Marsh nodded. “They put her on the phone. She was alive as of a week ago.”
“But you don’t know if she’s alive now?” Draco moved in front of Marsh. “You have to know something. Anything. Who would take Cate?”
“Why would someone take her hostage to get to Dr. Hale?” Phantom added.
Marsh’s shoulders slumped. “They knew I’d find a way to get her out of Vasquez’s hands.”
Crusher frowned. “Why didn’t you just tell us about Cate?”
Marsh raised his head and met Crusher’s gaze.
“They said they’d kill her if I told anyone about Cate.
I was to keep this a mission about freeing Dr. Hale.
They’d take over at the handoff and deliver me to Cate as soon as they had Dr. Hale.
” He looked over his shoulder. “Now they’re gone, and I have no way of knowing where to look for either one of them. ”
“God damn it, Marsh,” Crusher growled. “You should’ve told us. We would’ve figured it out. You know we have resources.”
Marsh lifted his chin. “And risk my daughter’s life?” He shook his head. “She’s all the family I have left since Sue died. I can’t lose her as well.”
“Damn right,” Draco pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling Royce.”
“We need to bring Swede and Hank into the picture,” Crusher said. “Whoever took Dr. Hale knew SOS had been engaged to get her out of Colombia, or he wouldn’t have targeted Marsh and his daughter.”
“Royce,” Draco said into his cell phone. “Shit went sideways. We have a situation we need help on. Putting you on speaker.”
“I take it the handoff didn’t go as expected,” Royce said. “What happened?”
“Patch in Hank Patterson and Swede,” Phantom said. “No use repeating ourselves.”
Moments later, another voice came over the speaker. “Hank here with Swede. Give us the SITREP.”
Crusher filled them in on what had happened, ending with, “We have Marsh with us, but he doesn’t know much more than that they have Cate as well as Dr. Hale.”
“Devon,” Royce’s voice came across, “Did they contact you on your personal phone or your work phone?”
“Personal,” Marsh said. “Cate must’ve given them the number.”
“Swede,” Royce said. “I’m sending you the number.”
“Got it,” Swede replied. “What was the date and time of the call as close as you can remember it?”
Marsh gave him the date and approximate time.
“I’ll work on locating the calling number, though I suspect it’s a burner phone. Since Cate was taken in London, I assume they made the call from somewhere other than the US. If it’s a burner phone, I might get the country and city, but don’t hold your breath.”
“Hank here,” the head of the Brotherhood Protectors said. “We’ll find your daughter and Dr. Hale.”
“Timing is everything,” Crusher said.
“Exactly,” Swede said. “If Vasquez plans to release the virus at the Global Health Security Summit in Vienna, we only have a few days to find Dr. Hale.”
Crusher blinked. “Is that the target you think Vasquez has in mind?” It always amazed him how quickly Swede came up with answers.
“Makes sense,” Swede said. “Again, you don’t have much time to locate Dr. Hale.”
“Right,” Crusher said. “And Dr. Hale needs time to create the antiviral to keep the virus from spreading. She’ll need access to a lab and the virus to make that happen.”
“I can get her access to the lab at the CDC,” Marsh said. “It’ll take some doing and possibly some false IDs to work around the new administration there.”
“Then work it and make it fast,” Crusher said, still fuming over Marsh’s duplicity.
“As soon as we find Dr. Hale, she has to have everything she needs. And still, there’s no guarantee she can create it in such a short period of time.
Folks, we’re talking about a pandemic that could wipe out the human race. ”
“On it,” Hank said.
“Oh, and Crusher,” Swede said, “I did get some information on Helvetic BioSolutions and Global Conservancy Initiative.”
Crusher bunched his fists. “I could give a rat’s ass about them. I’m more concerned about Marta—Dr. Hale and the virus Vasquez plans to release.” With so much pent-up energy and no set plan of attack, all he could do was pace the sidewalk a few steps away and back.
“Then you might find it interesting that Helvetic BioSolutions is based in Zurich, Switzerland, and they’ve done research on similar viruses that could spawn pandemics.
Not sure of a connection to Dr. Hale’s virus but thought she might have found it useful.
And, after digging through various layers of corporations, I discovered that Global Conservancy Initiative is a non-profit founded by billionaire Pieter Teuling. ”