Sight Unseen(88)

“What did you tell Kendra’s mother?”

“The same thing I’m telling you. She’s sharp, and she deserves the truth. What’s more, she can handle it. She accepted my report and asked only two things. One, that I keep alert and assume there was someone out there last night. Two, that I not tell her daughter that there was a possible problem. Since it didn’t pan out, she didn’t want her worried.”

“Neither surprises me.”

“She shut down that FBI agent that’s parked inside guarding them, too. However, I didn’t promise I wouldn’t report to you. What do you want me to do?”

He thought about it. He didn’t like even a hint of a threat to Kendra’s mother and Olivia, but this was too vague to be a legitimate concern.

And God knows, Kendra had enough to worry about right now.

But Kendra would kill him if she found out there was danger to the people she loved, and he hadn’t told her.

However, no real threat had been demonstrated.

So accept the responsibility and do what Kendra’s mother was doing. Keep a close eye out for potential peril and protect Kendra from frantic worry for no reason.

“Lynch?”

“You’ve got a pretty good commander in chief out there. Do what she tells you. But keep me informed. I want to know if there’s even the slightest inkling of anything wrong.”

“You’ve got it.” He hung up.

Lynch stared thoughtfully at the phone as he pressed the disconnect. He was definitely uneasy.

Forget it. Nothing he could do now.

He had to concentrate on getting Kendra to that FBI meeting and zeroing in on Myatt.

FBI San Diego Field Office

10:25 A.M.



“FIVE MINUTES UNTIL SHOWTIME,” Griffin said into the P.A. microphone at the front of the war room. “Unit leaders, verify that your teams are in place and ready to move.”

Now it did seem like a war room, Kendra thought as she and Lynch moved through the crowd of agents and support personnel. A high-wattage projector was throwing a map of greater San Diego onto a twelve-foot-wide screen high on the front wall, augmented by two flat-screen monitors. Pulsing blue dots indicated the GPS tracking beacons of the response teams, located at strategic locations around the city.

A systems chief from the wireless telephone provider, Lightwire Communications, stood at the front of the room wearing a headset, linked to the company headquarters in nearby Escondido.

One by one, the response teams checked in. They were ready.

The room’s roar of voices abruptly subsided, dropping in volume as the clock inched closer to ten thirty.

Metcalf stepped closer to Kendra, watching the countdown displayed on the big screen. “With a little luck, this could be over by lunchtime,” he whispered.

“I sure hope so.”

The digital countdown clock neared zero.

10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 …

Please let this work, Kendra prayed. Let this nightmare come to an end.

5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1.

Griffin nodded to the systems chief, and he spoke into his headset. After a moment, the technician looked up and spoke to the assembled agents and support staff. “They’ve initiated the ping test.”

He punched a button and patched his headset audio through the P.A. system.

“Account one is a no-go,” said the voice on the line. “I repeat, it is a no-go. We have no connection.”

Groans erupted in the room.

Griffin raised his hands to silence the staff.

Kendra looked around the room. Metcalf no longer had the same confidence he’d shown only moments before.

“Account two is also a no-go,” said the voice on the P.A. “Same story with account three. No connections with the towers on any of them. Sorry, guys.”

More groans from the staffers.

“Shit.” Kendra’s shoulders slumped. She had hoped against hope. All that soaring optimism she had tried to keep alive was ebbing away. “I guess there’s a reason they call them disposable phones.”

“It’s not over,” Griffin said. “We know that third phone has made contact with the prison less than twenty-four hours ago. He probably just leaves it powered down until he’s ready to use it. We’ll continue to live-monitor, and the teams will stay in place. I’m telling you this could still work.”

Kendra leaned against a table. “I want to believe that. Damn, I want to believe it.”

“It’s our best shot,” Lynch said. “In the meantime, we’ll just keep following every lead. You know how it works … keep chiseling until the dam breaks.”

“Chisel? I wanted a sledgehammer, remember?”

He smiled. “Just point me in the right direction.”