“Listening?”
“Saul had an implant. A small receiver that gives out a traceable signal so his whereabouts can be tracked. Designed and built it himself. Had it surgically inserted at the back of his left shoulder. Idea is that it emits a permanent signal.”
“But it isn’t doing that?”
“No. The signal has gone silent. And so has the tracker fitted to the Air Force car.”
“What does that tell you?”
“That maybe we have an inside mole working for the kidnappers—someone capable of disabling the car tracker. That the kidnappers knew about the tracking device on the vehicle and put it out of action.”
“So you have something to work on. Also means you have a weakness in your security shield.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“What about the implant device?”
“I don’t see that being public knowledge. It was inserted just below the surface of Kaplan’s skin soon after Zero was launched. Like I said, it was Saul’s own idea.”
“Not easy to get at?”
“It would have to be cut out.”
“Anything else affect it?”
“If they had the equipment the signal could be interrupted. That suggests whoever took Saul would have had to have known about it. Joshua, as of right now, we are running in the dark here. Reaching out.”
“Okay, but if these kidnappers have something they can disable your tracking devices with, then they have to be more than a bunch of perps out looking for ransom. Last time, we came up against renegade government individuals—and a bunch of Chinese trying to get their hands on Zero.”
“Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind. All the files on the previous attempt are being reviewed and individuals looked at.”
“The ones still alive, you mean?”
Valens understood the reminder. People had died before the Zero affair had been concluded. She also recalled that some of the Chinese operatives had escaped. But they had run off with a considerable amount of Chinese cash and lost themselves somewhere in America.
She had to go through everything, no matter how vague or how dead-ending it might turn out to be. She had to look into all aspects of the matter.
“Is Cooper involved this time?” Riba said.
“His name hasn’t been mentioned so far. Could be he’s working on something else. But the people he works with have their teams involved.”
“You want me to do some snooping around?”
“Off-the-reservation kind of snooping?” Valens said.
“Sharp as ever, Agent Valens, but just as you say. I’ll deal myself in. I’m closer to Saul’s lodge than you people are. I do remember where it is, too.”
“Joshua, stay in touch. If I can give you any backup I will. Use my name if you need to. Let me know if you find anything. But for now, keep it between us.”
Valens sent the data to Riba’s cell.
“Okay, got it,” Riba said. “Hey, you watch your back, Agent Valens. The way this has gone down, we’ve got some serious people out there.”
“I will, and for the record, it’s Claire. Drop the ‘Agent Valens,’ okay? I think you’ve earned that.”
“Okay. You can call me Josh. I hate the full-on Joshua. Makes me sound old and serious.”
“You’re a funny guy, Josh.”
“Got to redress the Hollywood version of solemn, hatchet-faced Indians. And don’t start me on the ‘Native American’ deal. Listen, I’ll be in touch soon as I have anything.”
Phoenix Force made contact with the Zero base a short time later. The credentials they carried got them inside the Zero Command Center. The isolated base, created solely for the operation of the Zero Project, was purpose-built. It stood in a wooded tract of land in rural Virginia and had a complement of around thirty, which comprised the Zero operating team and a rotating security force of Air Force personnel. A small number of highly vetted civilian personnel also worked on the base.
Even with their official Stony Man–provided IDs, McCarter’s team was well aware it was on site under sufferance. That made no difference whatsoever to the Stony Man squad; they had a job to do and territorial marking wasn’t about to stop them.
Colonel Rance Corrigan, the base commander, came out to meet them. In his late forties, Corrigan was a bluff, iron-gray-haired man who matched David McCarter in height and general build. His uniform fit him perfectly and was so neat it looked as if he’d had it dry-cleaned overnight while he was still wearing it. The perception the man might just be a poster boy for the Air Force faded quickly for McCarter. He could see behind the outward vision and recognize a true military character; Corrigan would match every word he spoke with dedication to his position in the Air Force of the United States.
“Colonel, we’re not the enemy,” McCarter said. “Right now finding Saul Kaplan is the only thing that concerns me. Run up the chain of command all you want. When you reach the highest level—and I mean the highest—you can make your feelings known. In the meantime we’ll go right ahead and see if we can figure out what happened. It’s why we’re in your face.”
“You’re a Brit,” Corrigan said, not disrespectfully. It was simply a statement of fact.
“Yes, Colonel. Hope you won’t hold that against me.”
Corrigan’s shoulder went back a fraction. “I’ve known a few RAF guys.” His expression didn’t change. “They can hold their own in a fight, and they respect the chain of command. So just explain what a Brit is doing in this outfit.”
“I work for the same government you do. Doing what I’m ordered,” McCarter said. “Whatever it takes. The same goes for my men.”
Corrigan scanned the rest of Phoenix Force. He saw a tight group who looked as if they would take no shit from anyone.
“We need to talk in my office,” he said. “I’ll have your equipment secured.” Corrigan called over a waiting sergeant. “Blaney, see to it.”
Corrigan turned and led the way to the main admin building, Phoenix Force falling in behind him. He took them through to his office, past a main area that held desks, computers and half a dozen Air Force personnel. He paused at one of the desks.
“Sergeant Ryker, call Agent Valens and have her report to my office immediately. And arrange coffee for us all.”
“Could you add one Classic Coke to that order, Sergeant, please?” McCarter said.
The
