Page 73 of Poison Evidence

“The guy who stole the AUUV—he had what looked like first- and second-degree burns over seventy percent of his body. It’s believed the burns killed him.”

“Well, he was tortured, right?”

“He was, but burns like that…that’s not a way to get information. Waterboarding. Starvation. Sleep deprivation. Tried and true methods that cause suffering but don’t tip the scale toward actuallydying. The guy was burned—and my source said his interrogators claimed they didn’t do it.”

“They could just as easily be lying to cover their asses.”

“That was the consensus. When he was taken, there were no blisters. So it was assumed his interrogators were overzealous and burned him to get him to talk.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Photos. Video. Reports. I was given everything I’d need to find the AUUV—except money, a boat, and actual mapping equipment. I was expected to come up with those on my own.”

“And so you did.”

“Nothing prepared me for you, for embroiling an innocent in my shitstorm.”

She held his gaze before returning to the key point. “Poison tree doesn’t kill. It’s a rash that blisters, like poison oak.”

“A severe reaction combined with torture? The stress alone could overload a heart. Best speculation, the poor guy went into cardiac arrest, and his interrogators didn’t know what to do. No medics, no one who would recognize the signs that the stress was too much for him. This wasn’t a sanctioned operation. The front office of GRU wasn’t running the show. We’re talking third-string hacks doing damage control. And the poor bastard died.”

“And you think he was exposed to poison tree?”

“It’s possible. If so, the exposure was severe.”

“But the blisters didn’t develop untilafterhe’d been taken into custody.” She frowned. “A severe rash like that means he either brushed up against a sappy tree or was standing under one in the rain.”

“Or he buried the AUUV in the roots. Either he didn’t know what it was, or he knew poison trees would be avoided at all costs, making it a damn good hiding place.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ulai Umetaro had departed for Kayangel Island and wasn’t expected to return until evening—if then. Luke and Ian moved to plan B and went to the hotel where the party had been held. They walked the edge of the mangrove swamp, assessed the layout of the property, examined the ballroom, and spoke with hotel employees about the party and aftermath of the attack.

Task complete, they returned to the rental car. Luke started the engine and stared out the window toward the turquoise sea.

“I’m no investigator,” Ian said, “but I know how cells work. It’s my guess they knew Ivy was in the garden. The assault on the party was a distraction. From what the hotel manager said, these guys weren’t prepared to dig in and use the hostages to their advantage. They had no long game, or even a short one, which would fit the suicide operator. The fact that the three men in the ballroom were taken alive is unusual.”

“If they knew she was in the garden, why not just take her there? Why reveal themselves by attacking?”

“She wasn’t alone in the garden,” Ian said. “She was with Dimitri Veselov.”

“That would indicate that they weren’t allied with Dimitri—unless the whole attack was to win her trust.” Using Parker’s real first name still felt strange on Luke’s tongue, but it was a form of conditioning for facing the man. He would adapt and use every tool at his disposal. Speaking to Dimitri as a friend was perhaps his greatest weapon—presuming Dimitri had a conscience.

“It’s either-or. Yes,” Ian said.

“If Dimitriisn’tallied with them”—Luke’s most fervent hope at this point—“then how did they know where she was and it was time to attack? They wouldn’t have spent hours waiting on the off chance she’d step outside on her own. You heard what the manager said, the garden was all but abandoned during the party.”

Ian’s answer was quick. “They’d have needed an inside man at the party—one whose job it was to get her outside, but then Dimitri did it for them.”

“Think we can convince the local cops to show us the security video from that night?” Luke asked.

“I think we have better odds of that than of getting to interview the men in the holding cells.”

Luke put the rental car in gear. “Let’s give it a shot, then.”

It ended up being easier than they’d hoped. Upon arriving at the station, they were introduced to Assistant Special Agent in Charge Kaha’i Palea, who’d been dispatched to Palau from the FBI’s Honolulu Field Office. The Palauan police had invited the FBI into the investigation, because it involved both US interests and terrorism. More importantly, Luke learned, Agent Palea knew Curt personally. One phone call to the attorney general was all it took to authorize the agent to consult with Ian and Luke, who were acting as private investigators, hired by Alec Ravissant to track down his cousin Ivy MacLeod.

Nice and legal, and they wouldn’t have to be skirting local and federal authorities in their search.

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