Page 32 of Inevitable Dream

“Have you been here all night?” I ask as I come into the room.

Wire avoids my eyes. “Don’t say it. Two people’s lives are at stake,” he mumbles.

“And we’ll find them. But it takes all of us, and we need to be sharp when we do,” I counter, getting closer and putting my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to make eye contact. “What’s going on with you?”

Wire lets out an exasperated breath. “I should be able to figure this guy out.” He throws up his hands at the computer screens lined up around him displaying data from all the sources we’ve tapped into and says, “I should be able to read this guy Mitchell. He’s detailed and systematic. He’s like me, and I can’t find his pattern. They took his daughter. She’s going to die if we don’t find them. Remmi and Mitchell are going to die, and it’s going to be my fault.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!”

“This is eating at me. I can’t let this go. We’re running out of time.”

“You did not kidnap Remmi or Mitchell. It’s what you’ve dug up that led us to GWO and Mary. You’re the one who confirmed that Emmanuela’s part of the problem. You plugged it all in, and it’s not up to you alone to find the answers. Go get a couple of hours in the back room while I go through Emmanuela’s file and see if I can find out who she’s taking orders from,” I tell him.

He’s about to protest when Falcon’s voice rings out. “Go, Wire. I’ll wake you in two hours. If we need to move fast, I need you to be ready.”

Reluctantly, Wire moves away from his station at the computer. “Two hours,” he repeats, warning us to wake him.

Falcon grins. “Take my office. The couch in there is comfortable.” Wire does as he’s told, and Falcon and I get to work on trying to trace the information that leads to the person responsible and to a possible site where they might have Mitchell and Remmi hidden.

“Run the plate on Mitchell’s car again. Maybe the police have found it,” Falcon says.

“Nothing yet,” I respond with a sigh. “Underground garage, probably.”

“Yeah, and they made sure his GPS was turned off. They’re smart,” Falcon says.

“Listen, I got a wild-hair thought.” Even in my own head, it sounds far-fetched, but it’s stuck with me since Mary said it. And since Wire talks about how detailed Mitchell thinks, it’s been bothering me.

“Let’s have it.”

“Mary said that Mitchell described their first date down to the last detail, but it was their second date. How can a guy so detailed get that wrong, brilliant mind and all? Then he told her to stay off the streets when his line has always been ‘Stay off the phone.’ Sounds stupid, I know. Even too simplistic, but what if it’s as easy as Second Street?” I voice my thoughts with a frown. Falcon would never toss an idea aside, but saying it out loud seems silly.

“Plug in Second Street on the map, and let’s see if there’s an underground garage within a ten-mile radius,” he says. We expand the search and find two underground parking structures and three other remote parking options in hangars by an old, abandoned airport site. “Go wake up Wire,” he orders, while trying to manipulate the screen to get an aerial view of each location.

It’s been almost two hours since Wire went to sleep, which is close enough, and Wire will want in on this anyway. Wire’s lying on Falcon’s brown leather sofa with his arm thrown over his eyes. I give his shoulder a shake. “Bud, we need you.”

Wire instantly drops his arm and his eyes come alert as he sits up. “What’s going on?”

“I got a crazy thought, and it might pan out. We need some help.”

Wire leads the way back into his computer haven, his attention moving to the screen where Falcon is trying to manipulate the image. “Move over, bro. I can get a real-time satellite image.” Wire steps in to take over for Falcon. “What am I looking for?” he asks as his fingers click over the keys faster than lightning.

“People,” Falcon answers. “The place is supposed to be shut down. Who owns it? Is it being used for something else? It could be a good place to store hostages and big enough to set up computer hardware for a data analyst.”

For the first time in hours, Wire smiles. I don’t want to get his hopes up; this could all be for nothing. “It’s a long shot. Just a wild thought,” I say.

Suddenly, the satellite image hovers over the area. The place isn’t deserted. Heavily armed guards dressed in black army pants and black T-shirts are posted at each of the entry points of all three hangars. The hangars aren’t spread that far apart, but getting into all three without being seen would be impossible with just five of us.

“We’ve got ’em,” Wire says excitedly.

“Slow down, dude. We have no idea if Mitchell or Remmi are holed up in there,” I remind him.

“Fine. Let’s get some proof,” Wire responds and begins a title search on the property. At the same time, Emmanuela’s phone rings, and Falcon shifts quickly to put a trace on it. He puts the earpiece in to listen in on the conversation.

I exchange glances with Falcon. He nods, telling me that he’s got Emmanuela speaking to her boss. I tap Wire on the shoulder, and he immediately jumps into action to see if he can pinpoint the area the call is coming from. Burner phones can only be traced when in use. The number is hidden, and you may never know who the caller is, but you can narrow down where the call is being made from.Spanish, Falcon mouths. So far, that’s in line with the Mexican cartel. Falcon is fluent in several languages, one of which is Spanish. He also knows French and Russian. He’s picked up Arabic, or enough to get by in a pinch. This all comes in handy in our line of work.

When the line disconnects, Falcon immediately turns to Wire. “Not exact, but I’ve got a ten-mile radius, and guess what area falls into that?” Wire points to the airport on the screen. “Not only that, but guess who bought the property we’re looking at?” He doesn’t bother to wait for our response but says, “A company that tracks to a Mexican corporation, funded by Diego Rodriguez. He’s a well-known cartel boss who has recently expanded his business to insider trading.” A newspaper article indicating Diego’s takeover of an investment company in California comes up on the screen. The previous CEO was found shot dead in his own office a week before the deal went through.

“I think we found our guy,” I say, looking over at Falcon.

---