Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (8 page)

She glanced at the clock, surprised at how long she’d been sitting at the computer. Her coffee had grown cold. If she were going to make the phone call, she needed to do it quickly, before Abigail woke up and wanted breakfast. Lauren found the number and, without hesitation, dialed the phone. As it rang, she had no idea how the person on the other end was going to react. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if who she were calling told her to go to hell.

“Hello.” A woman answered the phone.

“Is this Ms. Montero?”

“Yes.”

“This is Dr. Lauren McKenna. Are you free to talk?”

“What could you possibly want to talk to me about?”

“Donovan’s in trouble.”

“He’s been in trouble since I’ve known him. Why call me? Why now?”

“I need someone who knows the truth about him, about
us, someone I don’t have to tiptoe around like I’m working in a minefield. I promise it’ll be worth your time. Money’s no object.”

“You don’t have any reason to like me, or trust me. I blackmailed you and your husband, and nearly got all three of us killed.”

“You’re right, I didn’t like you. I’m not sure I do now, but I do trust you. I know the depth of your commitment and your capabilities as a former FBI agent. They’re the reasons I made this call. I’m willing to put everything aside and work with you, for Donovan’s sake.”

“I believe you, this couldn’t have been an easy call to make. I don’t know how much your husband told you about what happened to us, but he saved my life. I made him a promise I’d always be there if he needed me. Keep your money, Dr. McKenna, it’s not what motivates me. I’m in—where do we start?”

“What do you know about Stephanie VanGelder?”

“She’s William’s niece, right? Other than that, I know very little.”

“She’s in Guatemala, and she’s been kidnapped.”

“Oh no. So, Donovan’s there now? In Guatemala?”

“Yes. He and Stephanie are like brother and sister. Donovan showed up in Virginia all ready to rush to Guatemala, swoop in and rescue Stephanie. William, thank God, talked him down and managed to cool him off.”

“Dr. McKenna, what is it you want me to do?”

“Please, call me Lauren. I know that one of the reasons you were able to uncover Donovan’s secret is that you were, and still are, a great admirer of Meredith Barnes, and by default, you know a great deal about Robert Huntington. You’re also a trained investigator, and one of six people in the world who know the truth about my husband. I want you to help me find the people who have Stephanie.”

“There should be an entire FBI ‘Fly Team’ on the ground by now. FBI agents involved with the rapid deployment teams
handle logistics, and have hostage negotiators, crisis managers, evidence response teams. They’re very good at what they do. I ask you again, what is it you think I can do?”

“William, with his status in the State Department, waved off all help from the FBI. William, Buck, and Michael are all down there thinking they can do this alone. They’re operating in a completely reactive mode, waiting for the exchange. As far as I can tell, William is treating this as a business transaction.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best approach. Does he have the ransom money? Have there been any demands? Does he have proof of life?”

“That’s exactly why I need you,” Lauren said. “Yes, there’s money in Guatemala for the ransom. As far as your other questions, I have no idea.”

“Are you still connected with the DIA?”

“Yes, but I’m hesitant to use them directly. I have some indirect access, but nothing high-level.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Montero said. “The two of us trying to find specific kidnappers, in a third-world country without federal help, is like trying to find the
Titanic
while standing in Kansas.”

“I’m not saying we don’t have some assets,” Lauren replied. “We have an unlimited budget, and you still have connections in this town. You’re a decorated former FBI agent, and I’m a research analyst. If we can get access to the right files, we can be more than reactive. We can be proactive.”

“Where do we even start?”

“I’ll get an update from Donovan and William later tonight. I think I can also get Buck to keep me in the loop.”

“I’m a
former
FBI agent. Even when I was an active agent, the FBI didn’t always like the way I played. What makes you think they’ll even talk to me?”

“You brought down a terrorist cell bent on killing millions of Americans. You shot and killed the terrorist leader. The only person more famous than you in this town is the Navy SEAL
who pulled the trigger on bin Laden. You need to embrace that celebrity.”

“We both know I didn’t pull that trigger,” Montero said.

“We can discuss that detail another time, but for now, the rest of the world believes differently. We both know you’re a master at getting what you want. Use whatever connections you have inside the FBI and learn what you can. I’ll dig up everything I can find through my channels, and we’ll sort it all out together.”

“You think these people have kidnapped before?”

“I believe so,” Lauren replied. “There are roughly three thousand kidnappings a year in Central America. Once we filter out the drug-related, the custody disputes, and the kidnappings of locals, the number drops precipitously. I think there’s a chance we can identify the group, maybe even the individual responsible. It’s what I do. I sift through mountains of data—it doesn’t matter if it’s meteorological or statistical, the methods are the same. We look for small anomalies, trends, repeating patterns, commonalities, and then make predictions on future behavior. Add to the equation your instincts as an investigator, and we can cover a great deal of ground. We just need better data.”

“How’s Donovan doing?” Montero asked. “Emotionally I mean, being in Central America and dealing with another kidnapping?”

“I don’t really know, but if I had to guess, not very well. Last night I found him on the computer, reliving his past. He was looking at pictures of Meredith and Robert Huntington, reading both of their obituaries. We’ve been apart, so I have no real fix on the depth of his guilt these days or his state of mind. I’m worried.”

“Worried enough to call me, I get it. I’m on my way. Once I arrive in Virginia, I’ll need a hotel and a rental car.”

“Where are you?”

“Boca Raton, Florida.”

“I’ll arrange a private jet, then text you the details. And, Veronica, I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I made Donovan a promise, and that’s something I don’t do lightly. Though I do have one more request.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t ever call me Veronica. It’s Ronnie, or Montero.”

The State Department Boeing lifted off and Donovan watched as it climbed and banked to the north, the ransom note safely aboard. Behind him, two vehicles, a Mercedes and an SUV, pulled across the ramp and eased into the hangar. William and his security detail had arrived.

William read the crude note Buck had photographed, and then closed his eyes as if saddened by some great weight.

“Where did you get this?” William asked, after he’d collected his thoughts.

“Janie found it outside the hangar,” Buck said. “The airplane we flew in on was still on the ramp. I took the liberty of packaging the envelope together and sending it with them back to Washington. I just got off the phone, and the FBI has agreed to meet the airplane to collect the package. I was promised a preliminary report as soon as possible. I also spoke with the embassy here and managed to expand the security to cover all the USGS employees.”

“I see. The FBI makes sense. That was quick thinking on your part,” William said. “If we’re going to get any leads, it’ll most likely come from their laboratory, as opposed to here. Do we think the fingerprint is Stephanie’s? And, if so, was it really her blood?”

“It could be anyone’s. The bigger question was how the note was delivered—what made the kidnappers think the USGS is connected to you?” Donovan said. “And how did they know
it was this hangar? There’s no name on the door, nothing to differentiate this from the other dozen-or-so structures that line this side of the airport.”

“Someone is watching the activity at the airport,” Buck said. “That’s the only explanation. We can’t trust anyone. I go back to what I said earlier, these are most likely professionals, not amateurs, and we know that at least one of them is in Guatemala City.”

“Do you think Stephanie is in Guatemala City as well?” William asked.

“To be honest, sir,” Buck shook his head. “She could be anywhere.”

“We’ve got less than three days to find her,” William said softly.

“Did you learn anything at the embassy?” Donovan needed to know they were making progress, that their collective brain trust would come across something,
anything
, that would send them down the correct path.

“Nothing encouraging, I’m afraid.” William shook his head. “I was briefed by the ambassador, who, along with his deputy chief of mission, explained that right now diplomatic relations with the Guatemalan government are far from ideal. The ongoing corruption, drug trafficking, and now all of this—hasn’t helped mend any fences. This entire country is experiencing a sharp increase in the number of crimes committed against foreigners. It’s an epidemic.”

“How many of those crimes were kidnappings?” Donovan asked, trying to shift the focus back to Stephanie. Donovan knew enough about the third world, as well as William’s sensibilities, to understand the elder statesmen’s anguish.

“Did you sense anything when you were talking to them?” Buck asked. “Is there some kind of organized gang at work here?”

“No. Gangs are certainly a problem, but they’re not well organized, though they tend to be well armed and extremely violent. In some of the cases, I was told the suspects wore
partial police uniforms, which indicates certain elements of the police could be corrupt. In fact, it almost goes beyond simple corruption—into the realm of human rights violations. In Guatemala they have an abundance of weapons, governmental and judicial dysfunction, and an entrenched legacy of violence. The ambassador told me that there are more private police in Guatemala than actual police officers—because of the abuses.”

“If we can’t trust anyone local, are we going to be able to protect all of our people?” Donovan asked.

“Yes,” Buck said without hesitation. “And if I need to bring in some more people, I will.”

“Did you talk to
anyone
who might be able to help us?” Donovan asked William. If the entire country was corrupt, and they couldn’t trust anyone, they were going to have major problems finding Stephanie. “Do we have any leads at all?”

“I’m afraid we don’t,” William said quietly, angrily. “All I heard today was the usual diplomatic rhetoric. We’re outsiders, and whoever did this knows we’re here and that they have the upper hand. I’m afraid for now, we can only wait until another note arrives. Then we react.”

“What about the girl who was kidnapped several days ago, any more on her situation?” Buck asked.

“They said it’s a local matter,” William replied. “End of subject. What I was told is that we need to get the
Scimitar
into the air. The people studying this eruption have precious little information about the mountain and the people who may be in danger. I think our project may provide exactly what they need. Also, if the kidnappers are still in that area, and I believe they are, we may be able to spot something. I’m certain they haven’t calculated a drone into their operation parameters.”

“I agree,” Buck said. “My feeling is Stephanie isn’t far from where she was taken. I know in the Middle East, when we took hostages—I guess I should call them POWs—we never wanted to move them very far if we didn’t have to.”

“Sounds like we each have jobs to do,” William said. “The
overriding message I walked away with today is that the people we’re up against are brutal. We in turn shouldn’t hesitate to play by their rules; do whatever we need to do and deal with the consequences later. And Buck, whatever you do, don’t forget your primary job, which is to protect the people of Eco-Watch.”

“Yes, sir,” Buck replied. “I understand completely.”

“Thank you,” William replied. “Now, if you’d be kind enough to give me a moment to speak with Donovan privately.”

Donovan waited patiently as Buck excused himself. Once he was gone, he looked at William expectantly.

“I can see it in your eyes,” William said with a soft, yet authoritative tone.

“What is it you think you see?” Donovan asked. “And is it anything I don’t see in yours?”

“I don’t think you see bloodlust in my eyes,” William replied. “In yours, I see a desperation that I haven’t seen for over twenty years. I noticed it the second we stepped off the airplane. The feel of this place set you off, didn’t it? It’s something I’d hoped I’d never see you experience again. And now that you’re here, I’m worried.”

Donovan wished he had something to say to refute William’s words, but every denial he gave would sound like the lie it was. William had known him his entire life and missed little.

“Good,” William said. “At least you’re not going to deny it. I’ve seen you grow from a boy into a man, a process that hasn’t been easy. I’ve also seen you since you met Lauren and started a new life as a husband and father. Despite all the problems the two of you have, you’re still as happy as I’ve ever seen you, but the changes in the last two days are—worrisome. You know I love you as if you were my own son, and right now I’d like nothing better than for you to go home. I can’t stand the thought of losing either Stephanie or you. To lose both of you would be immeasurable.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Donovan stated. “Since you know me so well, I’d like to remind you that the one thing I don’t do—it’s
something you’ve instilled in me since I was a teenager—I don’t run from something just because it’s difficult. I’ll get through this, and right now we both have bigger things to worry about than my mood.”

“Go home,” William urged, his voice barely a whisper.

“You, of all people, should understand why I’m not leaving. I can’t believe you’d even ask.”