Page 56 of Heston
“Why?” Heston asked, striving to—somehow—remain as calm as Jameson. Something about the blind guy inspired confidence. For the first time since he’d seen London’s battered image, hope lifted its weary head. Jameson believed London was still alive. Heston could feel it.
“We’re dealing with two alpha predators, Hes, not deadbeat addicts or brainless lowlifes who kill on the spur of the moment, then dump bodies wherever it’s convenient. Think about it. Obermeyer and Keane are both connected with powerful people in Congress, and they’re arrogant. They want Alex to suffer. They’re making a statement. They want him to understand, at least to think, they’re powerful enough to make him do what they want, whenever and anywhere they say. It’s early Saturday, and today, like every week until the middle of October, there’ll be a farmers’ market in the parking lot east of the monument. Right now, there are a hundred or so vendors setting up tents, E-Z Ups, and stands to sell produce and crafts. Before noon,the place will be crowded. Directly east of those vendor booths, between the parking lot and East Basin Drive Southwest, lies the District’s Inner-City Gardens, a green zone set aside to encourage inner-city families to raise their own produce. There you’ll find individual family plots, gardening sheds, and” —Jameson’s finger tapped the location he’d uncannily pointed out before— “three shipping containers repurposed as organic greenhouses. Keane owns them, and he’s made sure everyone knows the produce for his chain of pubs along the East Coast is grown there.”
Sounded plausible. Hes had seen Keane’s ads and billboards. He’d made quite the name for himself. And those were his much-touted, much-advertised containers lined up side-by-side with the fenced-in community gardens. What better place to stash London than in plain sight?
Jameson’s slender finger tapped again. “That’s where you’ll find her, in one of those containers.”
Heston agreed. “I think you’re right.”
“Keane and Obermeyer stashed her there because, sorry, Hes, Jake’s right, too. It’s close to the river. More importantly, Keane thinks he’s untouchable. With Obermeyer flying cover for him and campaigning for his ambassadorship, Keane believes he can get away with anything. Even murder.”
“Look at the photo again,” Alex said. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet for a man with a vendetta. “What do you see?”
The TEAM’s focus rotated back to the big screen, where Mother had once again displayed the shot of London, bound and gagged and—hanging by her poor arms. Heston’s eyes filled. It was damned near noon. She’d been missing for hours. Keane and Obermeyer’d had more than enough time to torture her. And worse. She wouldn’t last much longer.
“I see a flooded linoleum floor with a drain in the center,” Harley replied. “Plain metal walls. London barely standing on her toes and—! Look at her pant leg, Hes.”
Heston’s eyes jerked to the bloody symbols scrawled on the side of London’s thigh. Scribbles, really. But the Xs and Os were clear enough to make him panic all over again. She’d sent that message to him before she’d been strung up. Was that her way of telling him goodbye? Had she given up?
“Why’d they take her?!”Why not me?
Jameson breathed a drawn-out sigh. “When London outed Bates, she made it personal. Obermeyer’s carefully orchestrated plan to make Keane ambassador fell apart, as did their other plans.”
“Other plans?” Heston asked.
“Obermeyer and Keane own a warehouse full of containers just like these three, on a dock in Delaware,” Jameson replied soberly. “That’s where they stash the women and girls they’ve kidnapped before moving them to South America.”
“I’m still tracking the ship that left Delaware last night,” Axel piped up. “I’ll find those poor women. Don’t worry.”
“South America? This shitshow’s about human trafficking? That’s what Obermeyer and Keane are into?” Heston turned on Mark, ready to knock the guy’s head off at that despicable insight. “I knew there was a mole inside Stewart’s house. I abso-fuckin’-lutely told you! Who is it? Do you know? Have you even looked for the person who knew where the Stewarts were going? Didn’t you take me seriously?”
Mark was a big, broad bull of a man. Standing at six feet three inches tall and weighing around three hundred pounds, he could easily snap Heston’s neck if push ever came to shove. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and quietly replied, “I always take you seriously, Hes. You know that. You’re one of our best, and yes, we found the mole. Arlette Kramer is the Stewarts’neighbor and one of Lexie’s friends. But she’s only six years old, and she had no idea that the nice man with the funny accent who fell off his bike in front of her house was pumping her for information. Of course she told him everything she knew. Ask any kid. Kids love talking to anyone who’ll listen. I’ve already chatted with her parents. They also knew where Lexie’s parents were going on their secret getaway.”
“Because my daughter can’t keep her mouth shut,” Alex added wearily.
Well, shit.Heston knew Lexie. She was her mother’s Mini-Me, but also so much like her father. He scrubbed his face, not sure how to ask, but going to ask anyway. “She has a photographic memory? Like you?”
“Not photographic,” Alex whispered. “Eidetic. Like you. Kelsey and I outlined our route on a Trails Illustrated map of Mount Rainier National Park. We put it away. Made sure we didn’t talk in front of Lexie. But obviously, she found it and shared it. Us. We’re the breach in TEAM OPSEC.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mark said. “Kids—”
“Yes, it is.” Alex cut him off. “I should’ve known better. When Lexie gets her little posse together, the whole damned house sounds like a son of a bitchin’ chicken coop.”
“But we don’t know for certain it was Lexie, Boss. Bates might’ve turned on Malloy,” Mark persisted.
“Not possible,” Heston said. “We turned him and Malloy over to Tucker Chase, and I doubt Tucker’d let him make any outgoing calls. How’d Obermeyer get Malloy?”
“Tuck had no choice but release Malloy when Obermeyer sent the Secret Service to Tucker’s boss with orders to collect him,” Murphy spoke up. “Gawddamned diplomatic immunity applies to that jackass.”
“How’d Obermeyer know Tuck had Malloy and Bates in custody?”
Murphy shrugged. “Might be the same way the Irishman knew where Kelsey’s been all this time.”
“Which tells me they had eyes on us every step of the way. We played into their hands. Where’s Obermeyer now?” Heston demanded to know. “Where’s Bates?”
“Obermeyer’s whereabouts are unknown,” Alex answered, “and Tuck has one of his best psychics working over Bates. We should get better intel soon. Listen up, people.” All eyes were already on Alex. “Deck and Adam will fly us into Reagan. From there, I’ve got a fleet of unmarked vehicles on standby that’ll move us to this location.”
His index stabbed a long, rectangular position just east of East Basin Drive Southwest. “This is Keane’s container one. Mark, hit it and hit it hard. Take whoever you need to make it happen with you.” He stabbed the next container. “Murphy and Roy, take container two. Take whoever you need. And Hes…” Roy had to be the older Black guy with Murphy.
