“The kid’s name is Rodrigo ‘Rorro’ Salazar. Jacinto’s cousin,” he explained. “His deceased father owned the house. Did you see any sign of Bryson?”
“No visual confirmation, but when Jacinto arrived he went into a basement. There’s a small rectangular window on the south side of the house and Marcus saw the lights come on. By the time he got to the window, Jacinto had shut them off again, but he saw movement down there. They are definitely holding someone. What are the chances it’s not Bryson?”
Slim, Gabe thought. Everything they had pointed to Jacinto Rivera as Van Amee’s hostage taker. Were the chances good enough to risk his team in an extraction operation? He wasn’t sure. But did he really have a choice? No. They were out of time. Bryson was out of time.
“Is the team around?” he asked.
Quinn nodded. “Jesse’s in the waiting room with Audrey, and Harvard’s still back at the safe house. Marcus and Ian were heading to the cafeteria for coffee and snacks when I came down to check on you. I left Jean-Luc at Jacinto’s house. He reported in about ten minutes ago. All’s quiet.”
“Good. Leave him there, but get him on the phone and everyone else in here for a briefing. We need a plan.”
“Hooyah,” Quinn said.
…
Once everyone crammed around Gabe’s bed in the small hospital room, he gave them the rundown of what he knew about Jacinto and Rorro. He left out that he’d gotten the information from the now deceased Luis Mena since it would only cause a stir. He also left out his run-in with the probably deceased Liam Miller-slash-Collington because Quinn had more of a personal beef with the guy than he did. There would be plenty of time for those war stories after they got Bryson Van Amee home safe.
The guys then briefed him on what they knew. He agreed that the bomb-making factory they had stumbled over in their search for Jacinto Rivera had to be decommissioned, but it wasn’t a priority now.
It came as no surprise when they told him Cocodrilo claimed the EPC had no knowledge of Van Amee’s abduction. The more Gabe learned about the situation, the more he thought Jacinto and Rorro were acting on their own. The team also apparently had Cocodrilo held as a drugged and bound “guest” at the safe house, though there was some disagreement over what they should do with him.
“Turning him over to the authorities won’t do shit,” Ian said. “He’ll be free and back terrorizing people before breakfast.”
“What do you suggest we do with him?” Jesse drawled. “Oh, wait, we all know the answer to that.”
Interesting. Gabe studied the pair and made a mental note for future reference to keep them apart since they seemed to be about as compatible as fire and gasoline. He’d eventually have to work out that animosity between them. Just one more problem in a long list he had to deal with if this team was going to function smoothly.
“Easy, gentlemen. Let’s focus on Bryson right now. He is what’s important here.” He shifted in bed to pin Ian and then Jesse with silencing stares. He hated that he couldn’t do this standing up, but his strength was fading fast and he needed to conserve every ounce of energy. He regretted ripping out the IV pain medication, which Jesse had blasted him about as soon as the medic stepped into the room. Pain flared through his side every time he moved, and much to his annoyance, he couldn’t sit up straight without the head of the adjustable bed to support him.
With the pair grudgingly subdued, Gabe focused his attention on Marcus. “What can you tell me about the FBI agent in charge of Bryson’s case?”
“You want my professional opinion, boss, or personal?” Marcus asked.
“They’re different?”
“Only in that my personal is much lower.” Marcus snorted. “Frank Perry’s a know-it-all jackass who actually doesn’t know squat about shit. And, yes, that is my professional opinion. Perry’s a wannabe hotshot who rides on the coattails of everyone around him until all the hard work is done. Then he’s suddenly front and center to get all the credit. Or, if it goes to shit, he fades into the background and lets everyone else take the blame. Believe me, the Van Amees did not win the FBI agent lottery with him. He’s known around the office as Perry the Prick.”
“So he won’t be willing to work with us.”
“Not on your life.”
So much for that idea. “We’ll have to come up with another—”
“But,” Marcus interrupted, “the lead negotiator, Danny Giancarelli, is a good friend of mine. Or, uh, was. He has no more love for Perry than I do, and I’d bet my left nut he’s bound in so much red tape right now it’s driving him crazy. I’ve spoken to him once already, and I believe he’s frustrated enough to help.”