Code Name: Baby Page 10

  Somehow on her six-foot frame the look worked perfectly.

  She crumpled an empty cardboard milk carton and tossed it in a perfect arc, hitting a garbage can shaped like a coyote. “So we’re at the movies. Jackie Chan is into perfect southern kung fu moves. Then the jerk I’m with goes for his zipper. And I’m supposed to be thrilled. What was he thinking?”

  “About getting you into bed,” Kit murmured. “Men do that a lot.”

  Miki went on as if she hadn’t heard, trying to demonstrate a kung fu kick and nearly hitting Baby in the head. “Sorry, honey.” Crouching, she smoothed Baby’s fur. “Bad Miki.”

  The puppy closed her eyes and rolled over, luxuriating in the attention. Seconds later Butch and Sundance crowded in, determined to get their share. Laughing, Miki stretched out on the floor and played dead, while all three dogs huddled around her, licking her face.

  “What’s the word on Diesel?”

  “So far Liz hasn’t found anything concrete. She’s still waiting for blood test results.”

  Miki stood up. “Don’t worry. It’s going to work out fine. You’ve got great dogs here.” She sniffed the air. “I think the lasagna’s ready.”

  A pink teapot threatened to topple as Miki swung past, and Kit caught it quickly. She had always assumed that Miki would outgrow the occasional clumsiness that struck the summer she grew four inches, but it hadn’t happened. As a result, Kit had grown adept at rescuing ceramics and stemware from sudden death in her friend’s wake.

  Miki bent low, digging in the back of her refrigerator. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that thing you do—following me around and rescuing stuff when you think I’m not looking. It’s annoying.” Miki made an irritated sound. “I have nightmares that I’m going to break something really important one day. Where was I when they were handing out the coordination genes?” She shook her head, pushing a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. “Don’t answer that question.”

  As she walked to the sink, Miki glanced across the back wall.

  “Why do you keep looking out there?” Kit followed her friend’s gaze, but saw nothing.

  “I could swear something moved in those piñon trees beyond the wash. Probably my imagination.” She wrapped a set of silverware in a napkin and tossed it to Kit. “Let’s eat. Then I think you should try calling the ranch. Wolfe will be wondering what happened to you.”

  Kit rolled her eyes. “I doubt the man has paid me a second thought.”

  AS WOLFE MADE HIS third surveillance trip around Miki’s house, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

  Keeping to a row of scrubby mesquite trees, he trained his binoculars on the nearby foothills, then turned to study the down-slope recess where he’d stashed his knapsack.

  Something moved in a bank of wild grass. Silently, he circled back up the slope, coming around the spot from behind.

  When he was in position, he inched forward, parting the tall grass.

  A man was squatting in the dirt, going through his field rations.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SILENTLY, WOLFE PULLED OUT a length of nylon cord, watching the man search his pack. In one sharp move he wrapped the line around the man’s throat, feeling the immediate defensive recoil and the search for any points of weakness.

  Wolfe left no chance for a counterattack. The nylon cord tightened; the man slumped. Neither one said a word.

  Before he could straighten, something hit Wolfe’s chest. He grunted, the world flashing into a corona of white light as fifty thousand volts from a Taser exploded against his ribs.

  He managed to stagger back, grabbing a boulder for support, then dropped out of sight down a steeply eroded wash.

  Boots crunched on gravel behind him. “Don’t fire, damn it. Ryker sent me.”

  Wolfe had his Sig Sauer in his hand with the safety off when he heard the man’s sharp warning. When he didn’t answer, the man moved a little closer.

  “Don’t shoot. My hands are up, and the Taser is on the ground. Ryker sent me with new information.” He stopped, coughing a little. “Call him to verify. The code word is Eskimo.”

  Hearing the code word, Wolfe lowered the gun slightly. So far half of his story was right, but half wasn’t good enough.

  Wolfe took a shooting stance, arms extended, his focus locked on the spot where the man’s head would appear as he rounded the boulder.

  “I came in by chopper to the ranch. When I saw you tailing Kit O’Halloran into town, I followed you.”

  Wolfe didn’t move. He felt a sharp pain at his eyes and he blocked the attacking energy. What the hell was going on?

  “Ryker told me you were stubborn. He said if you weren’t inclined to believe me, I should remind you that ‘two plus two equals seven.’”

  Wolfe dropped his Sig to port arms position. Ryker had specified a secondary code phrase in case of last-minute mission changes. Even though this new arrival didn’t appear to be a hostile, Wolfe still had doubts. “Stay where you are and tell me why Ryker didn’t notify me that you were inbound.”

  “He’s tied up. The rest of the Foxfire team has been deployed.”

  “Keep coming, hands up. Stop beside the wash.”

  A tall man with a striking resemblance to Denzel Washington appeared above the steep wash, his hands raised high. “Call Ryker. Tell him Ishmael Teague needs clearance.”

  Wolfe’s eyes didn’t leave the man’s face. “Why was Foxfire deployed?”

  “An embassy attack in Indonesia. Two U.S. senators were visiting at the time, and things are heating up fast. Ryker needs you here or you would have been on the plane with them.”

  It made sense. And the pain behind Wolfe’s eyes was fading. “Why the energy loop just now?”

  The man turned, one eyebrow raised. “Beg your pardon?”

  “Energy. I felt it a minute ago.”

  “Afraid I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I’m strictly on the tech end.”

  Wolfe watched him search his vest and pull out a small ID. The likeness was good and the stamps seemed authentic.

  “So you’re Teague?”

  The man nodded.

  Wolfe knew the name. Ishmael Teague was a legend in espionage circles, with a reputation for getting nasty jobs done and leaving no trace.

  “Mind if I put my hands down?”

  “Go ahead. Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting a contact until somewhere between 0100 and 0200.”

  Teague put his hands down and rubbed his throat. “Last-minute changes can be a bitch.” He looked down the hill toward the swimming pool. “Kit O’Halloran and the dogs are down there, I take it.”

  Wolfe rolled his shoulders and stood up. “Only three of the dogs are with her. The biggest one, Diesel, is still in town with the vet.”

  “I heard about that. Any diagnosis yet?”

  “The blood work hasn’t come back. I’m monitoring Kit’s cell phone, and as soon as she knows, I’ll know.”

  “Sorry about the Taser, not that it seemed to stop you for long. Ryker slipped up. He should have notified you.”

  “I’ll be sure to mention it to him.” Wolfe gestured at the black case beneath Teague’s arm. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a six-pack of Dos Equis on ice in there.”

  “No such luck, Commander. This is a laptop with a DVD player. Ryker wants you to watch some surveillance tapes from the lab.”

  “Listen, Teague, I don’t have time for—”

  “Call me Izzy.” He pulled out a sleek, high-tech computer. “There have been some new developments, and Ryker wants you fully briefed.”

  Wolfe checked the surrounding terrain. Nothing moved, and the earlier energy hit was gone, leaving no trace. If Ryker was sending in a man for a new briefing, the news had to be bad.

  “What did you mean by that reference to an energy—what did you call it—energy loop?” Izzy asked.

  “Forget I asked.” Wolfe fought his impatience. “Kit is supposed to be back at the vet’s a
t six, which doesn’t give us a lot of time.”

  Teague powered up a titanium laptop and studied Wolfe for a moment. “You’re not going to like some of what you see here, Commander.” He tapped a button on the laptop, and the screen filled with motion.

  Wolfe saw the well-equipped lab with dozens of caged animals. His body tightened when he saw Cruz in the middle of the room—gaunt, determined, his eyes blazing with arrogance. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

  “Finish watching. Then we’ll talk.”

  Cruz looked half dead. What was he doing in a government lab, naked and looking more animal than human?

  As the tape progressed, the animals grew increasingly agitated. Wolfe wasn’t sure he believed what he was seeing. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to believe it.

  When it was over, Wolfe didn’t move. “Why didn’t Ryker tell me this sooner?”

  “The man is a law unto himself. You’ve worked with him long enough to know how he thinks—need-to-know and all that shit.” Izzy closed the laptop and pulled a file of papers out of his backpack. “Ryker had that surveillance tape thoroughly analyzed. There’s no doubt that Cruz used the animals to escape from that room.”

  “Impossible.” Wolfe’s face was a mask as he squatted on the ground, staring at the opposite ridge. “If he had the ability to control animals, one of us would have known.” Wolfe had been led to believe that he was the first and only member of the team to be able to influence animals, and even his skills on that front were still rudimentary. A thought came to him, one he didn’t like. “Unless the government was working on something secret in that lab, using Cruz as a guinea pig.”

  “If they were, they didn’t tell me.” Izzy met Wolfe’s gaze squarely. “And if his new skills came out of that facility, it still doesn’t matter. What you saw on the video matters. Now that he’s free, you can count on him to do it again. Meanwhile, six security officers were killed there.”

  “Ryker told me.” Wolfe was still struggling to understand why Cruz had been hidden away, his existence kept top secret for all these months. The next question was why Cruz had gone right to the computer. “He was getting information from the lab computer. What files did he tap?”

  “The dogs,” Izzy said quietly. “Kit O’Halloran’s puppies among them.”

  “We all knew that the government was testing a variety of animals for military use. To control their unusual abilities, there would be a need for humans trained to work with…unconventional skills.” Wolfe turned, staring down the hill at the house below them. “Like Cruz, apparently.”

  “He pulled up your service records and your recent assignments before he vanished. Any idea why?”

  Wolfe picked up a pile of pebbles and tossed them from hand to hand. “Cruz and I worked together from my first day in Foxfire, and we got very close. If he’s looking for me now, it’s because he believes I’ll help him.”

  “Will you?”

  Wolfe stood up slowly. “If you ask that question again, you’re going to be spitting up blood from a broken jaw.”

  “The question has to be asked and answered, Commander. Cruz can be a persuasive man, and your history together won’t make it easy to say no. Ryker wants to be certain you’re aware of his interest in you.”

  “Cruz has no hold over me.” Wolfe tossed away the pebbles and checked his watch. “Kit should be leaving shortly, so let’s wrap this up.” He passed a plastic evidence bag to Izzy. “The operative I caught earlier provided this evidence. I swabbed the man’s mouth and put a sample of his saliva in the bag. The poison was very fast acting.”

  Izzy folded the bag carefully and slid it inside his backpack. “I’ll handle the analysis myself. Any distinguishing facial features that might be useful?”

  Wolfe shook his head. “The man was no amateur. No ID, no notes, no wallet, no maps. What’s the connection between him and Cruz?”

  “Speculation is a waste of time.” Izzy stowed his laptop inside the backpack. “I’ll update you when we have this analyzed. Ryker’s got a forensic team waiting to examine the body tonight.”

  “Still no sign where was Cruz headed?”

  “None that can be verified.” Izzy shrugged. “Ryker doesn’t tell me everything.”

  But Wolfe didn’t expect Cruz to leave tracks. The man had top-flight survival skills, and regular trackers wouldn’t find him.

  It would take another member of Foxfire to do that.

  “Did Cruz have friends or family in this area?” Wolfe knew Cruz well, but team members seldom discussed their families.

  Izzy shook his head. “Only a brother. He used to work at a small airport, but he died doing volunteer work in a forest fire last year.”

  “Was his body ever recovered?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Wolfe didn’t move. “Did his brother have any surviving relatives?”

  “His ex-wife lives south of Albuquerque. They had three kids.”

  “Put a surveillance team on their house. Training or not, Cruz is going to need support to stay hidden.”

  “Already done.”

  “Did Cruz’s brother have a military background?”

  “Marine sniper training and demolitions work. According to his discharge records, he had better backwoods skill than his instructors.”

  Suddenly Wolfe flinched beneath a wave of pain hammering inside his head, this attack focused and definitely hostile. Defensive tactics kicked in as he blocked at all levels.

  Cruz.

  Nearby?

  He was aware of Izzy studying him curiously, but he shook his head when Izzy started to ask a question. Ignoring the pain, Wolfe scanned the hills above the house, putting out a net in search of Cruz’s energy signature.

  Long minutes later he gave up. The terrain was clean.

  Had Cruz tracked Wolfe—or followed Izzy? The rules kept changing, Wolfe thought, partly because he still didn’t know exactly what skills Cruz had acquired since his supposed death.

  His cell phone vibrated. He scanned the caller ID, noting the Los Angeles area code. He showed the phone number to Izzy, who shook his head.

  Wolfe couldn’t pick up any details about the caller, despite a quick probe. He blanked his mind, releasing all emotion, then answered the call. “Yeah.”

  Static crackled.

  “Hello?” Wolfe repeated.

  “Welcome to hell, Houston.” There was no mistaking Cruz’s voice, with the long, flat tones of his native Montana.

  “Who is this?”

  “Cut the crap. You know exactly who this is. What you don’t know yet is where and why. But you will.”

  “Cruz?” The name was cold on Wolfe’s lips. “You’re dead.”

  “That’s what they wanted you to think.”

  “I went to your funeral, damn it. I carried your casket and saluted while the rifles snapped off the volleys. You’re dead.”

  “Ryker set it up. You’ve seen one face of Foxfire, but I’ve seen another.” Cruz’s voice hardened. “Pray to God that you never have to see that side.”

  “This is bullshit.”

  “You want it to be bullshit.” Cruz’s voice was low, persuasive. “But you know that I wouldn’t lie to you. Not after Bogotá. Not after Kabul.”

  Wolfe’s fingers tightened on the phone. Only half a dozen people knew about the secret operations Foxfire had carried out in those cities. Only Cruz and Wolfe knew how Cruz had saved Wolfe’s life in Bogotá following bad intel and malfunctioning equipment. Wolfe had repaid the favor three months later in Kabul.

  “Words,” he said harshly. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because we shared the dark nights, my friend. Especially in Kabul when that forward skirmish team nearly got me.”

  Wolfe said nothing. The identification was unshakable. Only Cruz knew those particular details.

  He saw Izzy pull a small box out of his backpack and gave a warning wave with his hand. He didn’t want Cruz to get a hint that he was being tracked or
monitored.

  “Even so, why contact me?” Wolfe demanded.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the story by now, at least Ryker’s version. You’ve probably even seen the surveillance tapes. I doubt they’ll tell you about the tests they began after my body began to deteriorate. The cage they kept me in won’t appear on any front page either.”

  “What cage?”

  “The one I lived inside,” Cruz said tightly. “My home for the last two years.”

  “You’re full of shit, and you’re wasting my time. I’m hanging up now.”

  “Wait.”

  Wolfe heard the desperation in that single word. Was part of the old Cruz still alive, hungry for contact with the people he’d known best? Or was this simply another way to mess with his mind?

  “You want to kill me, don’t you? Their pet project slipped the leash and they sent you out to clean up the mess. You’d like to reach through the phone and strangle me right now.” Cruz laughed coldly. “If you were the new man, you probably could.”

  The new man. Wolfe tensed. How had Cruz learned about the newest recruit to Foxfire? The man had talents in manipulating electrical equipment unlike anything Wolfe had ever seen. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Bravo. Ryker would applaud your performance.”

  “You’re boring me with this story of yours. Tell me what you want.”

  “Time. That’s what they stole from me while I was locked in that filthy cage. What is two years of a man’s life worth?” Cruz’s voice dropped. “I’ll let you know when I have the answer. Until then, tell Ryker he’s wasting his time. He’ll never find me.”

  The phone went dead.

  Izzy stopped pacing. “Cruz?”

  Wolfe gave an angry nod.

  “What was that about a cage?”

  Wolfe didn’t answer. He wanted to consider everything Cruz had told him first. “What’s important is that he’s on the move. He said to tell Ryker he’d never track him.”

  “Why did you stop me from tracing the call?”