Crazed: A Blood Money Novel (4 page)

Beth’s face had gone stark white. “That’s why Nash asked me about the helicopter, and a mole in
Polnoch’ Pulya
, when he was...was interrogating me. He and Kedrov wanted to know if I knew.”

“They wanted to know if they still had Faraday on back-channel speed dial,” Casey growled, pushing out of his chair in obvious anger to pace once more.

“And you had Adam looking into this, all on his own,” Gillian said from the flat-screen, her tone bordering on accusatory. “Is there any chance he was snooping too close to the leak, and that’s why...?”

“Maybe.” Tobias’s mind raced as he considered the known facts and pushed aside hypotheticals. “Remember the shell company
Polnoch’ Pulya
laundered its money through? That shell was operated in consortium by multiple illegal and terrorist organizations, including a couple of cartels out of South America. And Gavin, you were in Chicago as part of your cover before things went to hell, to—”

“To play talking head between the Russian Mob in the city and the Lobos Rojos,” Gavin finished for him. The Lobos Rojos were one of the deadliest drug-running gangs in Chicago, with direct ties to a Colombian cartel.

“Adam was snatched by three Latinos.” Casey stalked his way into the kitchen, taking a loop past the pastry box to grab a bear claw before tearing off a massive bite. He spoke as he chewed. “You’re thinking if the Russians have ties to the Colombians, the same Russians who have one of our people in their pocket—” he emphasized this particular point by shaking the bear claw at the room at large “—then we could feasibly be looking at Colombians in that alley with Adam.”

“If we’re operating on the theory that everything’s tied together.” Tobias remembered the obsessive, panicked nonsense Kedrov had been spouting about the Faradays moments before he’d killed the bastard—
you think you can buy your power, but power is earned; power is taken
—and combined with Beth’s torture, the helicopter Gavin had found... It wasn’t anything so simple that they could dissect and solve it all now, but there was definitely one thing they could do. “Della, narrow your search on the suspect images from the red-light cameras to Colombians. Specifically, the Marin cartel.”

Both Casey and Vick swore vigorously.

Gillian tapped on the screen. “Hey. Someone fill me in. Why’d the air turn blue just now?”

It was Chandler who answered. “Four years ago, three spies were taken hostage by the Marin cartel, based out of Medellín. Two were CIA, one was MI6.”

“That one would be me,” Vick supplied.

Nodding, Chandler continued. “An extraction team was sent in to rescue Vick and the Americans. I was there, Beth was there, Bok was there—and Casey ran point.” She glanced at a silent Casey before looking back to the screen, at Gillian. “He orchestrated the rescue from inside the Marin cartel, where he had been embedded for a few months as one of the brigadiers in Felipe Marin Donado’s personal guard.”

“Felipe Marin Donado. Why do I know that name?” Gillian’s tone was thoughtful, then she appeared to be typing, the gray eyes behind her glasses scanning her side of the screen as though reading, rapidly. “Holy shit. Pipe?
The
Pipe?” Her gaze sought Casey where he stood near the island counter. “Go big or go home, huh, brother?”

Still, Casey said nothing, and Tobias suddenly remembered what Casey had been like upon returning from Colombia. His bulldozer of an older brother, who so rarely kept his feelings under wraps, had been withdrawn, only a biting temper whipping out to lash those around him in the weeks after he’d come home. He’d resigned his position with the CIA and onboarded completely with Faraday Industries...and then, one day, he’d magically turned into Old Casey, an aggressive but generally genial man with a protective streak ten miles wide.

And Tobias had never bothered to follow up, after that. He’d been so buried in contracts and service agreements and product launches and negotiations, he could barely grab a few hours per night for sleep, much less stop to examine the temporary odd behavior of one of his siblings. Though perhaps he should have.

Beth looked to Gillian. “How do you know Pipe?”

“Outside of the news?” Gillian shrugged. “He’s sent a few...gifts over the years, trying to convince me to provide him with Faraday weapons.” And the only customer of Faraday weaponry was the United States government, in an agreement that had been in place since the mid-nineteenth century.

“Gifts?”

“You know my Aston Martin?”

“The Vanquish? No.”

“Yes.” Gillian grinned. “I mean, I had it completely disassembled and swept for trackers or explosives, but yeah.” When no one said anything, she threw up her hands defensively. “What? I’d like to see
you
turn away a ride that sexy. And it’s not like I gave him any guns.”

Everyone knew Gillian had a thing for cars, and not for one second did Tobias believe she’d made a deal with a drug kingpin so infamous he’d loitered on the FBI’s ten-most-wanted list for close to a decade. Felipe Marin Donado—or Pipe Marin, as he was more colloquially known—was an intelligent businessman worth hundreds of millions in dirty narcoterrorist dollars, a beloved leader of the people under his protection and a vicious power known for the biblically bloodthirsty manner in which he took on and took out his enemies.

While in Pipe’s care, Vick had lost a couple of molars, a toe, suffered broken ribs and some minor internal bleeding, and Tobias knew that had been the Marin cartel’s version of benign neglect. The two CIA operatives had been in far worse shape when the extraction team snatched them from an outbuilding in the forest where they were being held.

Chandler left Tobias’s side to settle her teacup in the kitchen sink, then turned to face the room, leaning against the counter next to Casey. The ache that had taken root beneath his sternum eased as understanding of what she was doing for his brother dawned.

Bringing up the Marin cartel and rehashing his time in Medellín had obviously upset Casey, so Chandler was standing by him. Knowing he wouldn’t lean on her, wouldn’t trust her, she offered her support. She didn’t want him to stand alone, with whatever was going on inside him at the moment.

Tobias suspected she’d deny doing so if he called her on it, but he knew her and that big bleeding heart she worked day in and day out to keep under wraps. He knew her, and he loved her, and suddenly he wanted to snatch her up and haul her away to some darkened corner of the house where they wouldn’t be disturbed for at least thirty minutes. Thirty very long, very private minutes where he could show her exactly how much he appreciated that bleeding heart of hers.

Her voice, when she spoke, was all business, though. “As I see it, we have two major concerns, the primary of which is retrieving Adam from wherever he’s being held.” Reaching up, she tightened the elastic holding her blond ponytail in place. “The other is to learn why you Faradays are being targeted in recent months, and who’s doing the targeting.” She turned, eying Della and muttering, “I’m surrounded by Quinns, every bloody place I go.”

Della flipped her the bird, not bothering to shift her focus from the laptop.

With a good-natured chuckle, Chandler gestured to Della’s setup. “For now, I vote we backburner the helicopter issue and concentrate on identifying who took Adam and why we haven’t received a ransom demand. Once we have names and potential locations, we gather a trusted tactical team—Casey, Vick, myself, maybe a handful of Faraday employees you believe without a doubt aren’t your leak—and do a single day of recon and sweep, followed by a nighttime extraction, chopper to jet, a couple of road vehicles to dilute the trail.” Her hands fell to her hips. “Finer details can be worked out once we have a specific target. And gold star to us if we can grab one of Adam’s kidnappers for interrogation purposes at the same time. Any questions?”

“Yeah.” Della finally looked up. “You wanna hear the names of the bastards who took our pet hacker or no?”

Chandler heaved a put-upon sigh. “Please.”

“We got hits off Interpol and US DEA for three known members of the Marin cartel. Manuel Dias, Eddy Jimenez and Juan David Guzman. No identity on the driver, but Dias, Jimenez and Guzman all have registered addresses central to Medellín.”

“I know Manuel.”

Everyone stared at Casey.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Manuel Dias and I ran patrols together when I was undercover with the cartel. He’s a mean sonofabitch, and Pipe’s top brigadier. Manuel’s breed of loyalty can’t be bought.” Casey’s voice was completely without inflection. “Which means Adam was taken under the express orders of Pipe Marin.”

What they didn’t know was why, but Tobias was determined to find out. “I have contacts at both the DEA and Interpol. There’s bound to be either an operative or informant with boots on the ground in or near the cartel. We keep it quiet, of course, but we get visual confirmation that Adam’s actually there. Gillian?”

“Sup?”

“I need you to borrow some satellites.”

Gillian clapped her hands together in glee. “You know how much I love appropriating other people’s property.”

“Borrowing, Gillian. Borrowing.” Tobias pushed out of his chair. “I want every place owned by Pipe Marin under surveillance. It’ll be difficult to pinpoint Adam, but look for movement that indicates something or someone being guarded 24/7.”

“The only reason we were able to successfully rescue Vick and the two CIA agents,” Casey said softly, in a tone of voice Tobias had never before heard from his older brother, “is because I was embedded in the cartel. I knew patrol patterns, Pipe’s daily schedule, who was in charge of what, and where to be to avoid detection. All of that will have changed since then, but I can guarantee you this—simple extraction won’t work. Pipe runs his cartel like it’s Fort fucking Knox.” He paused, sighed. “I need to go back in.”

This time, the whole room seemed to curse as one, but it was Gavin’s voice that carried best. “Can’t revive a dead cover, man.”

Casey shook his head. “Dead, not burned. We left behind a deceased brigadier in my clothes with my ID and a face so busted it wasn’t recognizable. My cover, Casímiro Cortez, supposedly died that day. Turn Casímiro into a runaway coward instead, and I can come back to the fold now that I feel I’m out of danger. Or something.”

“But what about Pipe?” Beth asked. “He was there that morning, at the outbuilding. I had him in my sights. How can you be sure he didn’t see you during the firefight?”

“Because he was pulling me out the back of that building.” This from Vick. “And my understanding is that you and Gavin were keeping Pipe pinned down in the front.”

“Regardless,” Casey interrupted, “I can revive my cover. Especially if I come bearing gifts.” He looked to Vick. “The crate that was delivered to your new office here last week?”

“Jesus,” Vick muttered, scrubbing a hand over his bearded jaw.

“Yeah, that. I bring that with me, I have an in.”

“Do I want to know what’s in the crate?” Tobias asked calmly, though he made a mental note to run an inventory check on the Faraday Chicago office as soon as he had a moment.

“No,” came the unanimous response from both Casey and Vick, though Casey kept speaking. “Tobias, get in touch with Interpol, find out who’s available to grease my cartel reintroduction. I’ll fly down, make contact and pray Pipe doesn’t shoot me on sight.” He jerked a thumb at Chandler. “Her plan is solid, once I’ve got Adam’s location and get a refresher on patrol schedules and Pipe’s whereabouts. One week, maybe two. Then you bring in a tac team and we run it like we did Vick’s rescue.”

“Will Adam last two weeks?”

Beth gave Della a hard stare. “Yes. And not just because he’s a tough little shit. If Pipe’s not asking for money, then he probably wants information, and it takes time to interrogate someone. There’s also the chance that they want him for what he can do with a computer, not just Faraday intel. Again, that warrants time.”

“But just to be safe, I’m leaving tonight,” Casey interjected. “The sooner I’m in Colombia, the sooner we can get Adam home. And then,” his voice darkened, “we hunt those who hunt us.”

Tobias didn’t have a response, but one wasn’t necessary this time. Casey’s mind was made up, and given Tobias’s recent vigilantism, he was in no position to throw stones and tell his brother not to get his head blown off in South America. What he could do, however, was make sure Casey had options once he was with the cartel—and that meant making a few calls.

Conversation diverted then into planning, with Gillian signing off to do her satellite research, Gavin and Beth rehashing what they remembered from the mission four years ago, Casey and Vick doing much the same and Della turning her attention back to Adam’s smashed hardware. Tobias locked eyes with Chandler and held out his hand, and immediately she came to him, linking her slender fingers with his. Just that small contact with her leached some of the tension from his muscles. Only she could do that for him, be that for him. Only Chandler.

Promising they’d reconvene again before Casey flew out, Tobias and Chandler bid their quick goodbyes and were out the front door, across the porch and down the steps to the waiting town car. After directing the driver to the Peninsula hotel, where he had a suite booked, Tobias leaned back with a sigh, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“So. That went well.”

He smiled at Chandler’s dry tone before tugging her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her in a hold so fierce and so tight she could never escape. Not that she tried. No, she returned his hug with her strong arms looped around his neck, face buried at the base of his throat. He kissed her temple, then her cheek, the curve of her jaw and, when she tilted her chin, took her mouth like the necessity it was. Nothing soothed him quite so much as kissing Chandler, holding her...keeping her. That she planned to let him keep her forever still astounded him.

With one last, soft brush against her lips, he cuddled her closer, tucking her petite yet powerful body into his and letting his chin rest atop her head. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. I know it wasn’t easy, being in that room with Beth and the others.”