Page 70 of Unloaded
“Well hell! You’ve got a woman, too?” Tiger questions, sounding as stunned by this development as I am at my public admission.
“Yes, Rachel is mine,” I admit, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. “And I’m kinda in a hurry to go find her, so get on with it, man.” Tiger chuckles briefly before sounding serious again.
“This ain’t something I’m comfortable saying over the phone,” Tiger begins, “but it’s something you need to know. Justknow the cluster-fuck that was our last mission together isn’t on you.
“I know you’ve blamed yourself for what happened to the 1stLt., but we have solid evidence to support that isn’t true. Go find your woman, then text me when you’re free to meet up.”
“All right, Tiger,” I agree. “I’ll see you soon.” I end the call and pocket my phone, even though I’m curious as hell about Tiger’s cryptic words.
It’sabout an hour before we’ve gotten all the intel we need. Det. Atwood has come through for us in a big way by not only getting the phone number of the witness, but also informing us of a reported incident at a truck stop near Richmond.
The witness had been more than willing to tell us what they knew after I’d explained that my wife was missing. Just a little white lie in the grand scheme of things. Nevertheless, it got us what we needed.
We have a direction of travel, and with the reported disturbance at the truck stop, Kelvin has been able to work his magic with traffic cameras. We found footage from the truck stop and saw not only Rachel but the twins on the grainy video.
Luke had called in a favor, and a local helicopter pilot is flying us to the scene. When we arrive, there are, thankfully, a couple of truck drivers on mandatory rest time still at the truck stop.
“You saw what happened here earlier?” I ask when the men approach us. The first one nods and pulls out his cell phone.
“I recorded it,” he says proudly. “Here, see for yourself.” He hands me his phone and clicks the video which begins to play. My heart drops when I see the scene unfold. Rachel elbows theman holding her and grabs her brothers into a hug, then her captor does the unthinkable.
I’m going to kill the bastard when I catch up to them. Send him straight to hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. He hit her! In. The. Face. She was bleeding.
“Will you send that to me?” Kelvin asks, glancing between me and the man whose phone I’m holding.
“What do you want it for?” the man asks, reaching for his phone. “Are you going to use it on the news? I hear you can get paid for catching news as it happens.” He looks at us expectantly.
“Find out the going rate,” Bo says to Kelvin without hesitation before turning to the man. “We aren’t going to use it on the news. She is his woman.” He points to me. “We are going to use special software to find out who that man is so we can get her back. If you want money to share it with us, it’s money you’ll get. Rachel means more than a few hundred dollars.”
“I’m sorry,” the trucker says, sounding contrite. “I got carried away. No money needed.” He gets Kelvin’s number and sends the video. Kelvin loads it to his facial recognition software within minutes. Now to find out who the bastard is that’s holding Rachel.
“Thank you,” I say, holding out my hand to shake his. The man gives me a firm shake.
“I hope you get her back safely,” the trucker says. I nod, knowing she’s already been hurt. The best I can hope for is no additional injuries.
“Let’s get going,” Bo says, slapping my shoulder. We all climb back into the Airbus H225. It’s one of the top civilian helicopters with a range of 832 miles and a top speed of 201 mph. It should get us damn close to Chicago without stopping for fuel, but I’m praying we don’t have to go that far.
We follow the interstate searching for the vehicles we’d seen in the video. Bo and I each have high resolution binoculars. We’re each perched on either side, scanning the traffic. Before long, I spot a dark colored sedan keeping, pace with the traffic.
“I think I’ve found them,” I say into the headset. “Can you get us lower?” The pilot lowers the aircraft until we’re only about fifty feet above the road. I zoom in on the sedan’s license plate. “That’s them! That’s the car that Rachel was in.”
“You’re right it is,” Bo confirms. He switches from in-cabin communication to call Luke, who is running the operation from his office at Invictus Security and Protection Agency.
“We’ve got them,” Bo announces the moment the call connects. I’m linked in so we can conference call. “At least the vehicle Rachel was last seen in. They’re east of Richmond on Interstate 264, skirting the city.”
“How do you want to play this, Rosco?” Luke asks, filling me with fear. I have to make the right decision. They’re letting me make the call because Rachel is my woman. “You want me to call in the Alphabets? Or should we handle this ourselves with a little help from Atwood’s connections?”
The weight of my answer is heavy on my shoulders. Rachel and the twins’ lives depend on me making the right choice. I’d made the wrong one six years ago, giving the 1Lt. my Ka-bar. I won’t do it again.
Suddenly I’m back in Luke’s dining room, and Dalton is demanding I tell him the 1Lt.’s last words.C.I.A. Then I recall what Tiger had said,“I know you’ve blamed yourself for what happened to the 1Lt., but we have solid evidence to support that isn’t true.”
“Don’t call in the Alphabets, yet. I’m not sure we can trust them,” I answer, sounding much more confident than I’m feeling. “How are we going to get them when they’re moving down the road at 80mph?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Luke replies.
“Well, if we knew what route they’re planning to take and where they might stop for gas or a bathroom break,” Bo muses, “then we could be ready for them.”
“Yeah, but that would be putting a bunch of civilians in danger,” Luke reminds us. “We could wait until they get to Chicago, but then we’d be running a long-distance operation in a city where we don’t have a lot of contacts. Not only that but you’d have to refuel the Airbus at some point.
