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think I heard of one where he sent a finger when things weren t moving fast
enough to suit him.
Got to be the same guy. Bob clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
This was great. The team hadn t been together half an hour and already they
were rolling.
Okay. Pull your file on him and we ll
Sorry. No file. The information s been tangential you know, the kind of
stuff you pick up when you re looking for something else. We don t know diddly
about the guy except that he seems to specialize in snatching the kind of
people who won t holler for a cop.
So we re dealing with an experienced team, Bob said.
Not good news. It meant this guy Snake had probably perfected his technique
before snatching the Vanduyne girl. He turned to Keane.
We figure this has got to be drug related, Dan. Who s most likely to be
behind it?
Hmm? Keane seemed mesmerized by the cooler.
Bob wondered what was bugging him. He repeated the question.
I can only guess, Keane said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.
The Cali cartel and that pretty much means Emilio Rojas these days has the
most money, but the Mexican traffickers have the most Stateside contacts now.
Could be Rojas working through the Mexicans, or the Mexicans acting on their
own.
Bob hid his annoyance. He d hoped for a little more in-depth analysis from
the assistant director of the DEA.
What s your best guess?
Best guess? I d say Mexicans. Kidnapping is an art form in Colombia; they d
bring in their own people. But I can see the Mexicans hiring local talent. We
keep tabs on Carillo, Garcia, Esparragosa, and the other big shots. I ll run a
check and see if any of them have been crossing the border lately.
That was better. Good. All right. We all know what we have to do. Don t
waste any time. This is top priority. He wished he could tell them they only
had till Tuesday, but only he and Razor knew that. I say we meet back here at
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six p.m. sooner if something breaks.
As they began to rise. Bob said. I know I don t need to repeat what the
President said when you all first got here, but I will anyway. Nothing said
here goes beyond these walls. Doesn t matter who asks, whether it s the
director of your agency or a senator or a cabinet member, you say nothing.
Razor has signed an executive order to that effect, so you re off the hook.
It s not that you don t want to discuss it, you are forbidden to discuss it.
And I want to know immediately the name of anyone who presses you about it.
Dan Keane was the first out seemed in a big hurry to leave followed by Jim
Lewis. Gerry Canney hung back, the cooler dangling in his hand.
Thanks for calling me in, Bob. I appreciate the confidence.
Bob smiled and thought of the close call they d had with a certain Dr.
Lathram a few years back. Not the first time we ve worked together on a plot
against a president. Except you may never get a chance to talk about this
one.
Canney shrugged. I ll save it for my memoirs. But more than anything I want
to get that little girl back alive.
Thinking of Martha? Bob said.
How can I not? Katie Vanduyne is only a couple of years younger. He glanced
down at the cooler. I don t know what I d do if someone ever& He shuddered.
I know, Bob said. His own boys were teenagers, but it seemed only yesterday
that they d been small and so much more vulnerable.
When Canney was gone, Bob sat down and began making notes and organizing his
information. He couldn t have a secretary in on this, so he had to do it
himself.
Not a bad start. Dan Keane tracking from the drug lords toward Snake. Jim
Lewis tracking from the anonymous remailer toward Snake. Gerry Canney tracking
from Katie Vanduyne s toe toward Snake.
Snake, my man, whoever you are, wherever you are, you re the key. And you re
in deep shit. Because we re going to find you. And when we find you, we
squeeze you. We squeeze you like no one s ever been squeezed before. We
squeeze until you cough up who you re working for. And then we find them and
squeeze again. And pretty soon we get to the guy who started it all.
By Tuesday, please God.
9
After a quick stop at his office to pick up his briefcase, Dan Keane hurried
along Sixth Street toward the Mall. The chances of his running into someone he
knew downtown on a Saturday were slim to none, but he kept watch, kept
glancing around, unable to escape the feeling that someone was following him.
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Just paranoia, he knew. And well deserved. The plan was unraveling before his
eyes. The weak link had always been Vanduyne, and he d broken.
But not before dosing Winston with that antibiotic, thank God. That was all
that mattered: taking Winston out.
And making sure nothing linked the plot to the drug cartels. Because if that
was ever established, it would advance the decriminalization cause precisely
the opposite effect Dan wanted.
Dan was in the clear, at least. Nothing to link him to Vanduyne, the
kidnappers, or Salinas. And to lessen the possibility of linking Salinas to
the plot, the whole kidnap apparatus had to be immediately dismantled and its
components scattered.
But what about the child? What happened to her?
He tried not to think about that little girl. Yes, she had a name, but he
kept it far to the rear of his thoughts, kept telling himself she d be all
right, but already he knew she was anything but. Great God in heaven, what
sort of monster can carve a toe off a child?
Dan knew exactly what kind. And this was simply further proof that these
slimy bastards had to be eliminated not by legalizing their filthy trade, but
by hunting them down, rounding them up, locking them away from decent society
and throwing away the key.
Dan knew his particular monster s name. He was going to speak to him today.
Now.
The little girl would be all right. But even if she weren t He couldn t
believe he was actually thinking this, but even if she weren t all right, even
if it worked out that she never made it back to her home, she was only one
life. If she was the means that put an end to Winston and his
decriminalization plans, her single life would be spent to save countless
others.
Keep thinking about the big picture, he told himself. Don t let the minutiae
swallow you up. What was one little life weighed against the unraveling of the
moral fiber of an entire nation?
One little life&
He spotted a phone near the Air and Space Museum and stepped up to it. He
removed the battery-operated voice distorter from his briefcase and glanced
around. No one nearby. He attached the mechanism to the mouthpiece, dropped a
quarter in the slot, and dialed. He had no doubt Salinas was recording these
calls, and doing his damnedest to trace them. Good luck. Dan used a different
phone every time, and in the highly unlikely event that the tapes ever got to
court, the distorter would confound any attempt at voiceprint analysis.
When someone on the other end answered, Dan said, Put Salinas on. The first
few times he d called there d been some argument about calling him back. Dan
had always refused. Those days were gone. Now when they heard his distorted
voice, they put him right through.
Yes? he heard Salinas say. Who s calling?
He pictured the fat slob sitting in a chair or on a sofa, his belly drooping
between his spread thighs. When was the last time you saw your dick, pig? Dear
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