Discoveries (Mercenaries Book 5) Page 8

  “For me, Beckie,” Willie said, “Shalin’s is the important thing. Lisa getting her sheepskin is important, don’t get me wrong. But going there while we’re still doing nothing for Ian and Kevin… that doesn’t feel right.”

  She looked, first at him, then at each of the women. “We’ve been through this. It’s not that we don’t want to look. But where to go? Both Beth and Tjaart have been repeatedly dead-ended in Durban⁠—there’s been not even a hint of new data. The other thing I want you all to remember: we told them we wouldn’t play their game without proof that Ian and Kevin are still alive. I haven’t seen that proof yet.

  “And no one here thinks it’d be a good idea for me to head there, do they?” She barely paused as all four of them reacted as she expected. “So, given that no one wants me to leave Ralf and begin tracking Ian and Kevin⁠—and no one thinks I should do that with Ralf in tow, I assume⁠—why shouldn’t I make a routine trip to San Diego to honor one of our team members making a significant step in her life? I’ll step aside to the ladies while you see if there is a reason for making that choice.”

  When she returned, Shalin told her they couldn’t fault her argument, but it still felt wrong, somehow. “I agree,” Beckie said, “but I haven’t been able to find a better answer so far. I’ll be happy to listen to anyone who has an idea.” She sighed. “And I hope they answer our demand.”

  On Tuesday, June fifth, Jean-Luc left the Nest with Beckie and Ralf, Beckie’s mother, and Millie Ardan. After clearing US Customs and Immigration in Fort Lauderdale, he flew to New York and collected Amy Ardan and Dylan Rees. From there, they flew to Minneapolis to drop Beckie’s mom at her home. They overnighted there, and flew on to San Diego the next morning.

  Jean-Luc landed in San Diego, and Beckie and her crew made their way to Coronado, to the hotel Beckie remembered from the Rose Creek job. After checking in, Beckie and Amy gathered Ralf and his necessities and drove the fifteen miles north to La Jolla, where Lisa’s mom had said since they hadn’t expected her til Thursday, Lisa’d gone to spend Senior Day swimming and maybe surfing. Dylan rode with them; he planned to spend the day with a high school friend who had a summer research assistantship at UC San Diego, near where they would find Lisa.

  Amy drove while Beckie considered the walk they’d need to take when they arrived. After ten minutes along the beach, Beckie called a halt and sat down, unpacking Ralf and his gear. Amy continued for another couple minutes before returning.

  She pointed toward the water. Before Beckie looked, she finished slathering Ralf with sunscreen, but when she did look, two women were standing holding hands while small waves broke about their ankles.

  The women were facing the west, standing between the surfboards they’d planted in the sand while they talked. As Beckie continued to watch, a radio close by played the Beach Boys. That’s appropriate! “You think that’s her?”

  “I do. Don’t know who the other one is, but that’s Lisa.” Amy laughed. “But, I cheated. That’s her board; she sent me a picture of it a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Oh. Well, okay. Go down and bring them back, or watch Ralf and I’ll do it.”

  Amy trotted the fifteen yards to the water. After a quick round of what appeared to be enthusiastic greetings, all three of the girls ambled to Beckie’s spot on the sand.

  Lisa had to be sated with little Ralf before she even thought to make introductions; the girl she’d been surfing and swimming with was Cori.

  They’re California girls, Beckie thought, fairly tall, light hair, slim, tanned, buff. Cori was closer to the ideal just because she was sunlight blonde, in contrast to Lisa’s strawberry blonde. Beckie decided she wouldn’t challenge either of them to any hand-to-hand exercises; neither would have any difficulty beating her up today!

  However, Cori didn’t seem a challenge for Lisa in other ways. Beckie listened to the repartee between Amy, Lisa and Cori, but she paid less and less attention as time went on. Ralf woke, hungry, and she faced the water as she fed him, in case someone who’d finished protesting at Black’s Beach wandered by and took offense at the child covering her breast better than most of the swimsuits she’d seen.

  The girls talked for almost an hour while Beckie and Ralf napped; her alarm woke her to warn it was time to leave if they wanted to have dinner with the others. Cori begged off and headed toward her car; Lisa walked with Beckie, Ralf and Amy to the rental.

  Dinner was low key; Lisa reviewed the schedule ending on Friday with graduation.

  In the afternoon sunlight, graduation happened on schedule. Lisa hadn’t made valedictorian; however, she’d earned the honor of introducing the number one. Beckie almost fell off her folding chair when Cori answered Lisa’s invitation and spoke clearly and brightly on the minor terrors the class had weathered on their short journey to this field, and those they’d have to face in the years to come.

  I didn’t have her pegged for that down on the beach.

  Lisa invited Amy to accompany her to the three parties she planned to attend, which suited Beckie right down to the ground. They drove her back to the hotel; she left the girls in the car and walked across the grass toward her bungalow. Her breasts were full. I’m ready to give Ralf a good meal!

  Almost before the departing car had turned off the access road, two men appeared from the bushes next to the building. Beckie felt a sense of foreboding that increased by the second. Even at that, she hardly had time to be apprehensive before the men grabbed her by her arms and lifted her feet clear of the ground.

  “What the fuck⁠—”

  Her querulous outburst ended abruptly when the man on her left clapped his hand over her mouth.

  “Be quiet,” a hoarse voice in an accent Beckie didn’t recognize told her. “Or we’ll set off the explosives ’round this little shed.”

  Her heart stopped, then blasted into life again. Ralf’s in there! What…

  Her abortive question was soon answered. After a menacing whisper warned her not to make a scene, the men frogmarched her through the state park beside the hotel property, past the Friday evening soccer games, and deposited her in a dark blue van with no side or back windows. No number plate, either, she noticed as the men’s hands pushed her in.

  “We haven’t much time,” the second man said. Beckie marked him since he didn’t have the hoarse voice; his was smooth and soft, and perhaps a French accent. “We do not hurt you. You will soon be returned to your friends.”

  Beckie fell back against the van’s wall. They don’t know about Ralf? Who the hell are they, then? And what… Determined to give them nothing for free, she said, “What do you want?” enunciating every syllable even though she was sure there’d be no misunderstanding.

  “Why have you not responded to our friends?”

  “Friends?” She spat the word. This is who they send to… “What friends?”

  The man shrugged. “A message was sent. The video was seen. They grow impatient. They fear that you may be seeking to circumvent… Is that the right word?”

  His expression was so… innocent? How can he be innocent… no, artless would be a better description. She snorted her fake amusement. “That’s certainly the wrong word for me. I am not attempting to bypass or foil anyone’s plans, whatever they may be. Hard to do, when I don’t know them.” She straightened against the van’s wall. “I saw a video, and sent a response.”

  The man shifted nervously, glancing at his partner. “A reply was made.”

  “Never arrived. I won’t do anything until I have the proofs I require.” She took a breath to calm herself. “What do you want? What do you think I can help with?” She moved as if to rise. “Or shall I just open the door and walk away?”

  Hoarse-voiced man shifted in the door’s direction, and adjusted what Beckie assumed was a handgun in his pocket. Hard to believe I represent that much of a threat to him.

  “Since you have not been forthcoming, my friends have no way to direct your⁠—”

  Beckie blew up a
t the man. “I haven’t been forthcoming? Did you not listen? I responded that proofs were needed before I would do anything; that until we had those proofs, we believe our friends are dead and there is no reason to talk further. It’s been two months! Where are the fucking proofs! Or is this just a joke?”

  The man looked stunned, but he recovered. “No joke, Mrs. Jamse. I will… I will inquire. But, to my point, without assistance, my friends will fail. That would not lead to… beneficial? Is that the right word?”

  Beckie slumped on the hard bench seat. She allowed her head to loll, staring at her sneakers. “Yes, I suspect that’s the right word.” She raised her head. “Sorry. I still don’t understand what I am to do. Unless it happened in the past hour, we have received nothing. No proofs; no demands.”

  “I cannot explain that. However, a new message is being prepared. Before Monday noon, you will respond to this message in a positive manner. Should you refuse, the markers on your little island will have bodies to stand for. And you… You will be left to contemplate your failures.”

  Beckie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She did a little of both. This guy wanted to throw her failures back at her? Stand in fucking line, mister! I have so many things… Well, no need to go there.

  She looked up; the astonished look on the men’s faces took her aback. “I can go, right?”

  Hoarse voice moved away from the door and smooth voice opened it.

  “You won’t leave anything that might… wake me early? Or upset the hotel’s management?” She stepped out of the van and without a backward glance, ran into the park. She grabbed her phone and called Millie, who’d been gracious enough to forgo the graduation to watch Ralf. Maybe just as well, too, Beckie thought, considering. Those guys might not be that stupid⁠—

  “Millie, get everything packed! I’ll explain when I get there. Two minutes, no more.”

  A second call to Jean-Luc assured that the new Gulfstream would be ready.

  Ninety seconds later, she burst through the cottage’s door, looking for Ralf and Millie. Ralf was lying in his carrier, cooing and making happy sounds. When she got into his vision, he began to flail both arms and legs. “I hope that means you’re happy to see me.”

  “I am,” Millie said as she entered the front room. “What’s going on?”

  She updated Millie while feeding Ralf; the doctor packed everything up. In less than an hour, they’d met Jean-Luc and were in the plane. During the drive, Beckie argued for leaving immediately, but Millie reminded her that they had planned to have not only Amy and Dylan, but Lisa and her family, on the trip to the Nest. “While Boynton can certainly arrange commercial flights for them, it’s almost one in the morning back there. Between us and Jean-Luc, there won’t be any problems on the plane. Based on what you said, we can leave in the morning pretty much as we planned.”

  “You’re right, Millie. Sorry. For all those guys didn’t even threaten me, really, I’m a little tense.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” the doctor said; the sardonic tone in her voice made Beckie chuckle for the first time since leaving Amy’s car.

  Sleep came easily to Ralf; at least, he’d chosen this night to sleep for five hours. Much to Beckie’s dismay, she was unable to sleep at all, worrying over the others and the team and Ian and Kevin. At four AM, she called Willie to give him the quick run-down.

  Ten minutes later, she had to go through it again when Shen called. He assured her that Else would go through the archives though he was certain nothing had been missed. They’d continue to monitor her mail as well as the web site the unknowns had used before, “Even though there’s been no apparent activity there since the first message.”

  A few minutes before five, Jean-Luc opened the fuselage door to admit Lisa and her family, followed instantly by Amy and Dylan. Beckie felt her jaw drop when Cori came through the hatch. As much as Beckie was startled, the newcomer’s expression, a little hangdog and uncomfortable, and her shying away from the traffic in the plane’s small aisle also surprised her.

  Beckie waved at Amy; when she approached, Beckie said, “Picking up… like, strays?” tipping her head in Cori’s direction. “What’s up with her?”

  “Better Lisa tells you. But I agreed. She’ll come by after she gets her family settled.”

  Beckie didn’t fail to notice the mix of expressions on Dylan’s face; his twisted smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he said nothing and Beckie decided not to put him on the spot.

  “Okay. Looks like the plane’s pretty full, so pick your spots and get in them.”

  The couple settled themselves in one of the oversized loungers, meant for one but big enough for them. Beckie smiled internally, then focused on the Grove family as they distributed themselves. She stood and followed Jean-Luc to the cockpit. “Are we primed and ready to go?”

  “Almost. Our time will be ten before six, the tower has said.”

  “Good. And a normal five and a half hour flight?” He nodded. “You want to make the announcement, since we have no flight attendant and⁠—”

  His unexpected laugh pleased her, and she left him to his preparations.

  Back in the main cabin, Cori was by herself, strapped into the small chair at the secretary’s desk that some design wag had thought would allow work to be done aboard the executive jet.

  Beckie’s seat was waiting. Millie held Ralf in her arms, glowering as if to say, I can’t feed him, although there were a couple bottles of Beckie’s milk in the carrier. With a smile, she took Ralf and settled herself, baring a breast and watching the baby unerringly find her nipple.

  About quarter of six, Ralf was almost finished. As Beckie laid him down and straightened herself, Jean-Luc’s voice filled the space: “Ladies and gentlemen, we have been cleared onto runway two seven for take-off, proceeding to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. If Florida is not in your travel plans, this would be the time to say so.” The mike clicked. “Actually…” The engines spun up and the plane began to move. “… it’s too late, now. I’ll be back in the cabin in a moment; if you have questions about the seat-belts and the safety equipment, I’ll be happy to help you.”

  Beckie watched Cori throughout Jean-Luc’s speech. When he’d said Fort Lauderdale, her eyes opened a little, but then she became passive again. Maybe Lisa said the Bahamas… Hope she has her passport! The thought sent her on a terror-filled exploration of her bag, rummaging until her hand closed on her own passport.

  Once Jean-Luc had wandered the cabin checking seat belts and the like, and answering one question about life rafts, he disappeared back into the cockpit and in another minute, the Gulfstream G280 accelerated and left the ground.

  Beckie checked Ralf, who was sleeping again; the noise of the take-off making no impression on him. “This time,” Beckie muttered to herself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Millie. Just… nothing.”

  “I think Lisa’s wanting to talk.”

  When Beckie looked, she could agree. The girl was unclipping her seatbelt, ready to stand, though the motion of the aircraft made her attempts more tentative than she probably wanted. When she got free of the restraint, Megan gave her a shove on the butt to help her into a standing position. Cori was still in her seat. Placid? No, struck dumb and still. By terror? From what?

  Lisa looked around as if to get her bearings, then walked uphill against the plane’s climb-out to Beckie’s seat. Beckie scrooched over, leaving enough room for the girl to perch beside her. Uncomfortable.

  “Not a good place to have a conversation,” Lisa said.

  “Depends,” Beckie replied. “I doubt anyone can hear us… Maybe Millie, but she won’t talk. And looks like most everyone’s trying to sleep. But we can go back to the lav or forward to the galley if you’d prefer?”

  “No… No, we’ll stay here. You’re probably right.”

  “Should Amy listen in?”

  “No need; I already told her most of this.”

  “Okaaay. If you told her already…
And I guess Cori knows, too?” Lisa nodded. “What’s the hesitation for? Spit it out, girl!”

  Lisa wriggled. Trying to get comfortable? Beckie twitched her hips to give Lisa a fraction more room. “Just, I have no idea how you’ll react. That’s scary, at least⁠—”

  “The best way to find out how I’ll react is to tell me.” After everything… Why’s she scared of me or how I’ll react?

  “I know. Amy said that too, but she wouldn’t say what she thought you’d do.” She dropped her head to hold her face in her hands. “I brought Cori…”

  I know that. Tell me something I don’t know. Beckie chose to touch her shoulder.

  Lisa brought her head back up; her face was red. “She’s kind of in trouble⁠—”

  “Are we in trouble, then?”

  “No! No, no. We’re not. At least, we don’t think so. Cori and I and Amy. Her… her step-dad’s kind of a loser, beating up on her mom, treating them both badly most of the time. He’s like bi-polar or something; one minute he’s sweet and loving and kind, the next, it’s like Jekyll and Hyde or something.”

  “Later we’ll talk about why he doesn’t get help. But what’s she done to be in trouble?”

  “Yesterday, after graduation but before the parties we all were stopping at, he was beating up on her mom again. She grabbed a softball bat and slugged him. Not very well, ’cause he went after her. She hit him again and ran. Outside, she kept running til she could get her phone out and call me. Amy and I went and got her. She thinks she mighta killed him.”

  Beckie grabbed Lisa’s hand. “Almost certainly not,” she said. “Takes a perfect swing and placement to break a skull that way. Not something she’d be able to pull together in the heat of a fight. He might have a headache, maybe a broken jaw or tooth at the worst. But, he’d be mad. She’s on the lam because she thinks he’s dead? Even with the evidence?”