Chapter 20 Desperation #2
For most of his life, he'd been isolated, self-reliant, and fiercely independent. That behavior was born out of necessity and continued out of stubbornness, but Hamm was right; he didn't have to be alone anymore.
Though he'd always tried to keep himself distanced from the team, they'd somehow broken down his walls, established themselves as friends and trusted colleagues.
They were like a family, and they'd always had his back, even Tag.
And now that he had people in his life that he could rely on, Cade didn't think he even wanted to be alone anymore, because having them meant he had someone to share this burden with.
And when he got Tristan back — not if, he swore, but when — he would have him and Natalie too. They would have each other.
The thunderous rumble in Cade's head fizzled to a low hum, and his rage ratcheted down a few notches. He forced his body to relax by unclenching his fists and taking a deep breath, then sat down, though his heart still hammered relentlessly.
Hamm addressed the room. "Okay, what's our next move? Ideas? Anyone?"
"Did we get anything from the cameras?" Taylor asked.
"No. I saw a vehicle on one of the street cams, but it was too dark to determine color or make, let alone a license plate."
"And there's no other usable intel from the laptop?"
"Not yet. The data I haven't yet deciphered consists of strings of numbers that could be anything — bank account numbers, client identifiers, transfer locations, transaction amounts.
I only found the holding sites because I was able to search for the coordinates of the first house and the warehouse in the data strings.
So, unless we can find something else to cross-reference, I'm at a loss.
I can keep looking, but without a specific pattern to scan for in the sequences, it's a shot in the dark. "
No one spoke for a few moments.
"And this buzz on the dark web, the unhappy customers and a hit on the Handler, nothing gives any clue where the Handler is?" Young asked, breaking the silence.
"I think he's still in the country, but chatter suggests he's about to leave. I'm assuming he's still fairly close based on where Tristan was taken and the timing of his message, but I've got no real intel."
"Could we try to get in on the action? Pretend we want to run the hit and see if we can narrow down a location on the target?" Sullivan proposed.
"That could work."
"Annabeth could send out feelers, pretend to be a hitman looking for a payoff, see if she can get a lead."
"Do it. Anything else?" Hamm prompted.
"We're sure the driver doesn't know anything?"
"I'm sure," Hamm answered. "I questioned him after Taylor and Rodriguez did the first pass. He's never seen the Handler and has never been anywhere except the warehouse and the house where Natalie was held. I'm pretty sure he's not holding back. He seemed scared shitless."
Silence.
A string of silent curses paraded through Cade's thoughts. They had nothing to go on, no one to interrogate, no vehicle or location to track, no physical description, no bank account, nothing.
The Handler was just a name in pixels on a screen.
"What else?" Hamm asked.
"Do we have any intel about where the Gem Collector is located? Maybe we can get Tristan back after the Handler transfers him, I mean, if he wants him."
"I've been searching, but no luck yet," Annabeth answered. "I'll keep trying."
"Any other ideas?" When no one spoke for several tense seconds, Hamm said, "We'll break for now.
Annabeth, start inquiring about the hit on the Handler, and continue looking for a location for the Gem Collector.
If anyone has any idea to pursue, no matter how stupid it might sound, come to me immediately. Understood?"
The group stood and dispersed, except for Cade, who dropped his head to the table and considered another round with Hamm's heavy bag. He should think of some possibilities to pursue, use logic to identify steps and alternatives, but his thoughts were jumbled and scattered.
Without a lead, he had no way to save the man who had somehow, in the last week, become the center of his universe.
The touch of a delicate hand on top of his drew Cade's attention. With one cheek pressed to the table, he opened his eyes to find Natalie studying him, tears welling in her eyes, her mouth quivering, and he felt the overwhelming need to comfort her.
He flipped his hand so their palms fit together, and she slotted her fingers between his as silent tears began to stream down her cheeks.
He wanted to do something to help her, but he didn't know what.
Hold her? Tell her it was going to be fine when he wasn't sure it would be?
God, why was he so fucking bad at this stuff?
"Cade... " Natalie began before the dam finally broke. Hanging her head, she began sobbing, and he didn’t even think, just drew her into his arms. She cried on his shoulder, no longer holding back, and part of him was jealous that she could let go when he couldn't.
After a few minutes, some concerned gazes from his colleagues, and a wet patch on his shirt, Natalie leaned back, apparently spent for now. She wiped the dampness from her cheeks and hiccupped softly.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"No."
"Yeah, me neither."
"I know."
"I'm that obvious?"
She snorted. "Just a little."
Huffing, his eyes pinged around the room as he gathered his courage. "I'm sorry," he confessed, meeting her gaze.
"Why?" she asked, her voice scratchy.
"This is all my fault."
As she shook her head, she croaked out, "It's no one's fault but those people who took him."
"No, I should have... "
"Cade, don't, please. I know Tristan wouldn't blame you, and it's not going to help us find him."
He searched her eyes, now puffy and red, and knew she meant it, that she didn't fault him, and it lifted a weight he hadn't known he'd been carrying.
After a moment of indecision, of testing the words in his mind, of forcing himself to be vulnerable, Cade admitted hoarsely, "I wish I knew what to do."
"Me too," she whispered. "We'll figure it out, all of us." She squeezed his hand, and he felt an outpouring of affection for this girl, this young woman, who had lost so much yet still tried to comfort him.
The thought that she and Tris only had each other cut deep.
She must feel so alone, so terrified of what life would be like if they didn't find her brother.
Tristan had felt it too, had told Cade enough for him to grasp the earth-shattering fear of losing the only person you loved.
Natalie didn't say it, but he could read it in her eyes.
At that moment, he swore he would take care of her no matter what, that he would do anything for her, just like he would do anything for Tristan.
He would protect her, be there for her. He'd make sure she wasn't alone like he had been as a child, with no one to go to, to confide in, to trust. He'd do it for Tristan, even if — god forbid — they didn't find him in time.
Because that possibility was too horrifying to consider, Cade focused on Natalie, trying to figure out what he could do make her feel better. When he felt anxious and agitated, he liked to move his body, to do something physical. Maybe Natalie would too.
Lifting his head from the table, he asked, "Want to hit something?"
"What?"
"Want to hit something? In the gym? I can teach you how to punch. It feels good to let out your anger and frustration."
Her eyes lit up, and he could tell she was intrigued. "Okay, yeah. Teach me how to punch."
After teaching Natalie how to stand, how to balance her weight, and how to position her fists, Cade let her punch at his open palms, coaching her on her form.
Impressed that she picked up the basics so quickly, he asked if she wanted to move on to the heavy bag, and she agreed enthusiastically.
It was a relief to focus on something besides Tristan, and he let himself get lost in the activity, freeing his mind for a short time as he wrapped her hands and reminded her to strike with the proper knuckles.
He watched her tentatively try out the heavy bag, pleased that she approached it with caution instead of stupidly pummeling it with full force, as he had earlier.
Before long, Natalie was using proper technique and punching with decent power, looking far from the beginner that she was.
He made sure she took breaks and got her a bottle of water to hydrate in between rounds, occasionally offering suggestions or stopping her to explain or demonstrate corrections.
Watching her, Cade felt a surge of pride that he had taught her, and she was doing well. The sensation was unfamiliar, but he decided he liked the feeling, the satisfaction. Maybe he could teach her how to cook too.
After about thirty minutes, Natalie stepped back from the bag and dropped her arms.
"That was fun, but I'm exhausted, and my arms hurt."
"Yeah, they will for a while. You did well," Cade said, handing her a small towel.
"Did I?" she asked sincerely.
"Yes, you did," he assured her as he unwrapped her hands.
Her mouth quirked up slightly. "You were right. It did feel good."
"It works for me. We can maybe do it again sometime."
As the pair left the gym, Cade felt lighter than he had since he found his car empty, but as they approached the conference table and saw Annabeth hunched over her keyboard, her posture rigid, and Hamm hovering behind her, the weight came crashing down again.
"We were just coming to get you," Annabeth said, looking up.
Cade's heart stuttered at the possibility of a lead. "What did you find?"
"I intercepted a message from the Gem Collector to the Handler," Annabeth replied without urgency or excitement, and Cade's stomach dropped.
"What does it say?" he asked cautiously.
"It says, 'I accept your proposal. I'm sending details for the transfer of the fire ruby using previously established codes. Contract will be cancelled upon receipt of the product.'"
Hope flickered as Cade asked, "So what do the details say? When and where?"
Annabeth's face drew into a deep frown. "I don't know. The information is coded, and without the key or some sort of clue, I can't read it. I'm running it through standard programs, but it will take time. I'm sorry, Cade, truly."
Feeling like the floor dropped out from under him, Cade's gaze shot toward Natalie. She met his eyes, her mouth fallen open, her face pinched in distress.
He drew in a harsh breath and melted into a chair, despondent that every lead came to nothing, that they found obstacles around every corner. Dropping his head into his hands, he whispered weakly, almost too low for anyone to hear, "We need to find him."
He felt Annabeth's hand on his back, offering comfort or maybe strength. "We'll find him, Cade. It's going to be okay."
No, Cade thought, as despair swelled and then overflowed, drowning him.
If we don't find him, I will never be okay again.
Cade had no sense of how much time passed as he sat there numbly, too exhausted and broken to think about how to find Tristan. He stared at one white wall, his mind blank, a weight pressing on his breastbone so heavily that each breath felt labored.
The urge to do something productive nagged at him, but he was unable to act, paralyzed by fear and helplessness and maybe even a shattered heart.
As he summoned strength to move, to take some initiative, Annabeth's shout had his head snapping toward her and his body springing from his chair.
"I've got it!"
Cade, along with Natalie, Hamm and the rest of the team, gathered around the blonde.
"I missed it at first, but the Gem Collector said he was using previously established codes. I thought maybe he was referring to codes he used in the auction, so I cross-referenced those messages with this one, searching for the term "ruby," and it worked. I've cracked the code."
"What does it say?" Cade asked, heart hammering, hardly daring to believe they had what they needed to find Tristan.
"The transfer is scheduled for four thirty. I have the coordinates."
A whooping sound from one of his colleagues and the chorus of praise for Annabeth's genius barely registered in Cade's brain as he gulped big breaths and tried to steady his trembling hands.
When he was able to focus on his surroundings again, he met Annabeth's shining eyes, and unable to force words out, nodded in thanks.
She reached out a hand to squeeze his forearm, silently reassuring him.
Hamm instructed everyone to gather round, and bodies filled chairs at the table as Annabeth pulled up satellite images of the drop site at the back of a sprawling self-storage facility.
Taking a seat, Cade glanced at Natalie, and as the two exchanged a look, Cade felt the silent communication, the guarded hope, the cautious optimism that this would be the lead they were waiting for. He tamped down his excitement and anticipation, knowing he needed to focus on the specifics.
"Okay, now that we have a time and place, let's get a plan," Hamm began.
Cade listened to the options, chimed in with suggestions, and helped evaluate approaches and alternatives. It took them about forty minutes to come up with a solid plan and a couple of contingencies, and once it was decided which agents to send, others began rising from the table.
Glancing at the clock, Cade realized that with any luck, they'd have Tristan back in a few hours.
Looking over at Natalie, he managed a reassuring, half- smile, which she returned. As he rose from his seat, he prayed that he wouldn't let her down.
Again.