Chapter 29

Once everyone crammed around Gabe’s bed in the small hospital room, he gave them the rundown of what he knew about Jacinto and Rorro. He left out that he’d gotten the information from the now-deceased Luis Mena since it would only cause a stir. He also left out his run-in with the probably deceased Liam Miller-slash-Collington because Quinn had more of a personal beef with the guy than he did. There would be plenty of time for those war stories after they got Bryson Van Amee home safe.

The guys then briefed him on what they knew. He agreed that the bomb-making factory they had stumbled over in their search for Jacinto Rivera had to be decommissioned, but it wasn’t a priority now.

It came as no surprise when they told him Cocodrilo claimed the EPC did not know about Van Amee’s abduction. The more Gabe learned about the situation, the more he thought Jacinto and Rorro were acting on their own. The team also apparently had Cocodrilo held as a drugged and bound “guest” at the safe house, though there was some disagreement over what they should do with him.

“Turning him over to the authorities won’t do shit,” Ian said. “He’ll be free and back terrorizing people before breakfast.”

“What do you suggest we do with him?” Jesse drawled. “Oh, wait, we all know the answer to that.”

Interesting. Gabe studied the pair and made a mental note for future reference to keep them apart since they seemed to be about as compatible as fire and gasoline. He’d eventually have to work out that animosity between them. Just one more problem in a long list he had to deal with if this team was going to function smoothly.

“Easy, gentlemen. Let’s focus on the problem at hand, Bryson Van Amee. We’ll deal with Cocodrilo later. Right now, our main priority is getting Bryson home safe.” He shifted in bed to pin Ian and then Jesse with silencing stares. He hated that he couldn’t do this standing up, but his strength was fading fast, and he needed to conserve every ounce of energy. He regretted ripping out the IV pain medication, which Jesse had blasted him for as soon as the medic stepped into the room. Pain flared through his side every time he moved, and much to his annoyance, he couldn’t sit up straight without the head of the adjustable bed to support him.

With the pair grudgingly subdued, Gabe focused his attention on Marcus. “What can you tell me about the FBI agent in charge of Bryson’s case?”

“You want my professional opinion, boss, or personal?” Marcus asked.

“They’re different?”

“Only in that my personal is much lower.” Marcus snorted. “Frank Perry’s a know-it-all jackass. And, yes, that is my professional opinion. Perry’s a wannabe hotshot who rides on the coattails of everyone around him until all the hard work is done. Then he’s suddenly front and center to get all the credit. Or, if it goes to shit, he fades into the background and lets everyone else take the blame. Believe me, the Van Amees did not win the FBI agent lottery with him. He’s known around the office as Perry the Prick.”

“So he won’t be willing to work with us.”

“Not on your life.”

So much for that idea.

“Fuck,” Gabe muttered, and momentarily closed his eyes. He ran a hand through his cropped hair, then refocused on the team. “Do we have anyone on the inside we can trust to pass us information?”

“The lead negotiator,” Marcus said. “Danny Giancarelli. We grew up together and he’s a good friend of mine. Or, uh, was. He has no more love for Perry than I do, and I’d bet my left nut he’s bound in so much red tape right now it’s driving him crazy. I’ve spoken to him once already, and I believe he’s frustrated enough to help.”

“Get him on the phone,” Gabe said. “We need to know about the ransom demand and the instructions for the drop. Once we have the specifics, we’ll coordinate our rescue operation to go down before any money is exchanged.”

* * *

“Who are you?” Agent Danny Giancarelli had a smart and no-nonsense voice. “What exactly is your stake in this?”

Gabe liked the guy instantly. “Same as yours. I want Bryson Van Amee home with his family, safe and sound. Name’s Bristow. I’m CO of HumInt Consulting, Inc’s hostage rescue team.”

“Who hired you? Not the family,” Giancarelli said without a shred of doubt.

“No, not the family, but I can’t divulge my client’s name.”

And he didn’t particularly want to admit Van Amee’s greedy insurance company hired him because they didn’t want to pay out the kidnap and ransom insurance that Van Amee no doubt paid a ridiculous premium to have. Especially not with Audrey sitting right beside him, listening intently to every word. She’d come into the room midway through the team’s briefing, looking tired, tousled, and worried, and sat beside him like she had every right to be there.

Which she did.

A few eyebrows arched when he laced his fingers with hers and unsubtly raised her hand to his lips, staking his claim, but everyone kept their mouths shut.

Smart men.

At first, her presence had been a comfort, a balm soothing the distress he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling since he woke. Now, as he spoke with Giancarelli on the phone, having her beside him felt more like a heavy weight on his shoulders. It was stupid, but he kind of liked the knight in shining armor fantasy she’d built up around him and hated to tarnish it, but he couldn’t mince words with Giancarelli either. Not if he wanted to get the information he needed to save her brother.

“And my client doesn’t matter,” he added. “Our end goal is the same.”

Giancarelli said nothing.

Since he didn’t hang up, Gabe took that as agreement and continued, “You don’t believe paying the ransom will save Bryson’s life any more than I do.”

Giancarelli sighed. “What I believe doesn’t matter much around here.”

“It does on my end.”

“Yes,” the agent answered after a second’s pause. “I think Marcus is right. By sending that money to the HTs, we’re condemning Mr. Van Amee to death.”

“Give me whatever information you can about the HTs and the ransom, and I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Another pause. “Put Marcus back on.”

Gabe handed the phone to Marcus, who took it off speaker, raised it to his ear, and said, “Danny.” Then, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” He glanced up at Gabe then said definitively, “Yes,” probably in answer to a question about Gabe’s legitimacy. He listened some more. “Well, funny story there. When I’m stateside I’ll buy you a beer and tell ya all about it.” After a moment, he nodded and handed the phone backto Gabe. “He’s willing to hear you out, boss.”

Giancarelli said, “What do you want from me?”

“We’re about ninety-five percent sure where Van Amee’s being held.” Gabe relaxed against the tilted head of the hospital bed. His stitches pulled as he reached for the notebook Harvard had brought him and flipped to a clean page. “We just don’t know what we’re dealing with as far as opposition and what our timetable looks like. You’ve been in contact with the hostage takers, correct? What can you tell me about them?”

“I’ve only talked to one,” Giancarelli began. “He has me call him Angel.”

Gabe wrote “Angel” in the notebook and circled it twice. As in, Angel Rivera, Jacinto’s brother. Was Jacinto just using his brother’s name, or was the FBI dealing with the man himself? If Angel was involved, things could get messy fast. Jesus Christ. “What’s his state-of-mind like?”

“He puts on a good front,” Giancarelli said, “but you ask me, he’s nervous. He doesn’t strike me as a professional.”

Which didn’t jibe with what they knew about Angel Rivera, who had at least ten kidnappings under his belt that Harvard had been able to dig up, and possibly more that hadn’t been attributed to him.

Gabe added a question mark next to Angel’s name even though he was now about ninety-eight percent sure that Jacinto was acting on his own, using his brother’s name. “What about accomplices?”

“Thing is, I’ve only heard one other voice in the background…”

“But,” Gabe prompted, because he heard it in the dot-dot-dot Giancarelli put at the end of that sentence.

“But nothing. I’ve heard only one other voice and it’s… high pitched. Like a woman’s or a boy’s. Probably more boy than woman because it has that squeaky adolescent sound to it, know what I mean? I’ve never been able to make out enough of what he says to translate.”

Gabe bet that squeaky adolescent voice in the background was Rorro. “When exactly is the ransom exchange supposed to go down?”

“I’ve managed to push it back until Tuesday. I’m going to try and talk them down another couple mil and get them to postpone again next time they call, but I don’t know how successful I’ll be.”

“Have they given specific instructions for the exchange yet?”

“Well,” Giancarelli said on a drawn out sigh, “it’s not a dead drop. As inexperienced as I think they are, the HTs were smart about that, at least. They want the money transferred to an offshore account.”

Where they probably had someone waiting to launder it till it shined, Gabe thought. Not a big stretch of the imagination if Rorro kept his racketeer father’s connections.

“Once they confirm the transfer,” Giancarelli continued, “they claim they’ll send Bryson in a taxi back to his apartment.”

“Yeah?” Gabe finished writing the information down, rippedout the sheet, passed it to Quinn, and made a motion that he circulate it throughout the room. “That’s putting a helluva lot of faith in the bad guys.”

“Yep. And I told Perry that, but he’s convinced we’re dealing with professionals. I don’t know how much you know aboutinternational hostage negotiation?—”

“Not a lot,” Gabe admitted. “I was a SEAL. I usually came in after negotiations failed.”

“All right. Quick and dirty lesson,” Giancarelli said. “If you have to get taken, you want it done by professionals, because you’re more likely to come out alive at the other end. It’s nothing more than a business transaction to them. Professionals don’t want to kill anyone. In fact, they go out of their way not to kill. It’ll hurt their reputation if they become known for not upholding their end of the bargain.

“The EPC,” Giancarelli continued, “has a reputation for returning hostages unharmed, and Frank Perry thinks we’re dealing with the EPC.”

“But not you.”

“Let’s just say I’m not convinced and leave it at that. I have no proof I’ve been talking to someone other than Angel Rivera. It’s just my gut reaction.”

“So because of the EPC’s rep, Perry wants to trust that the HTs will return Bryson alive after they get their money.” Gabe shook his head. That wasn’t a good idea on so many different levels. “I can see why you’d have a problem with that, Giancarelli.”

“And unfortunately, my hands are tied. It makes me sick that two little boys are about to become fatherless and it’ll be the FBI’s fault, my fault, but I still can’t do a damn thing to stop it.” He hesitated. “Marcus says I can trust you, and I trust Marcus. If you promise you can stop it, I’ll believe you and do whatever I can to help.”

Gabe looked up and met Audrey’s eyes, saw the hope and fear there, and squeezed her hand. “I can and will stop it,” he told them both softly. “I promise.”