Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3) (18 page)

He kept his voice low. “We need a floor mat.”

Scanning the immediate area, Nathan was amazed that every window of every vehicle was intact. Incredible. He didn’t want to break any glass, because that would make a substantial amount of noise. They didn’t have time for this.

“Lauren, I’m going to take my shirt off. Don’t freak out.”

“What do you mean?”

He scaled the hood of the SUV and looked across the street. There was no sign of Voda or his men. He removed his shirt, folded it half, and placed it on top of the sharp prongs lining the top of the fence.

“What happened to you? All those scars!”

“Come on. Up and over. I’ll hand you the duffel.”

She straddled the fence before dropping to the other side. He lowered the duffel into her arms and climbed over. Lauren gave him the bag, and they ran in a full sprint toward the Taurus. The police siren sounded much closer. They had less than a minute.

At the Taurus, he retrieved the keys from the top of the tire and used the remote to unlock the doors. The car made a damning
chirp
, and all the parking lights flashed. He’d have to talk to Harv about disabling that feature. He tossed his shirt and duffel into the back but left his NV on. Before starting the engine, he twisted the headlight switch from auto to off.

Nathan believed the police response would be coming from the west, so he backed onto the street paralleling the wrecking yard and accelerated toward Otay Mesa Road. The buildings on his right would screen them from any approaching police units.

“Lauren, look around. Let me know if you see any cars following us.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Keep looking.”

“Are those scars from when you were tortured?”

“Yes.”

“They’re horrible…”

“Stay focused. Keep looking for cars following us.”

“I will.”

He hadn’t planned on exposing his damaged skin to Lauren, but there’d been little choice. At Otay Mesa Road, he removed his NV, turned on his headlights, and accelerated into the light traffic. Up ahead, he saw the flashing light bar of the arriving SDPD unit.

He pulled his cell and handed it to Lauren. “Check the call log.”

Lauren’s voice held a softer tone. “There’s one from Harvey Fontana.”

“Put it on speaker and play the message.”

Harv’s deep baritone survived the tiny speaker. “
Call me back as soon as you can.
”

Chapter 16

“Should I press call back?”

“That won’t work.” He gave the international code for Turkey, then gave her Harv’s number.

Harv answered on the third ring. “What’s your status?”

“You’re on speaker. Lauren’s with me. We’re just leaving the warehouse.”

“What’d you find in there?”

He turned right on Otay Mesa and relayed what they’d seen: the portable X-ray machine, the typewriter, and the Bolivian passports.

“The X-ray machine’s probably related to Voda’s smuggling operations,” Harv said. “The passports are a tougher call, but they might be connected to the border murders case. It sounds like all the passport photos fit the descriptions of the victims. The question becomes, why would he need them? Illegals are inherently untraceable.”

“Yeah, I thought of that.”

“Have you made heads or tails of those hand-typed numbers?”

“Not yet.”

The police cruiser they’d heard earlier screamed by.

“Is that for you?” Harv asked.

“Voda’s men aren’t overly concerned about using automatic weapons in public.”

“What happened to avoiding more firefights until I get there?”

“I feel a lecture coming.”

“If I thought it would do any good…”

“We’re heading to La Jolla for a change of clothes. We’re both trashed.”

“Last I checked, you don’t have any twelve-year-old girls’ attire in your closet, unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”

Lauren smiled at the lighthearted comment.

“Cute, Harv. We’ll wash them. There’s something I didn’t mention when we had Holly on the three-way call. I confiscated a cell phone from the gunman at the grocery store. I haven’t had a chance to look through it, but I will once we arrive at the house.”

“It might be a throwaway, but it might contain texts or other frequently called numbers we can trace.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Why didn’t you tell Holly about it?”

“Because her people will want it right away. And I don’t want to give it up until I’ve had a chance to go through it myself.”

“I agree with you keeping it, at least for now.”

“I’m still uncomfortable not telling her about it.”

“Hey, the FBI doesn’t tell us everything they’re doing.”

“The next time we talk, I’m telling her I have it.”

“Put it in your mailbox at the street after you’ve looked through it. They can pick it up at their convenience. Update me when you get to La Jolla. My flight doesn’t leave for…three more hours.”

“Have you told Candace about Lauren?”

“Yes.”

“What’d she say?”

“She said you’ll make a good uncle. Now, will you
please
try to avoid more gunplay?”

“For you, Harv, anything…” Nathan signed off and pocketed his cell.

“I like Harv. He sounds like a nice man.”

“He’s superprotective of me, overly at times. Are you okay looking at the passports?”

“I guess.”

He dug them out of his pocket. “See if you recognize any of the faces.”

She stared at the fourth one. “This is the girl I saw.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name.”

“Margarita Gutierrez.”

Nathan wondered why Voda or Marchand had kept the girl’s passport. The same question applied to all the others. Why keep them unless they planned to reuse them? Voda might choose girls based on their likeness to these photos. If so, how many additional girls did Voda plan to murder? Nathan felt something else was at play. If all Voda wanted were victims to feed his twisted habit, there was an endless supply of illegals coming across the border. Holly had mentioned Voda’s ties with professional coyotes. He didn’t think coyotes needed passports for anyone. Not only that, but the vast majority of illegals were men seeking work. He didn’t know how many families attempted to cross the border together but believed it wasn’t too commonplace. Maybe Voda had some kind of human-trafficking thing going and he skimmed off the top for his own pleasure. If so, there could be dozens of young girls at risk.

“Do you recognize any of the others? Look for someone with the last name of Hernandez.” It was the surname atop the typed list of numbers.

“I don’t see that name. They all look so sad. Are all of these girls dead?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wish there weren’t bad people in the world.”

“Me too.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lauren was close to dozing off. Her comment about bad people wasn’t naive, just reflective of her age. Nathan’s resentment and anger flared at Voda for terrorizing her. She was just a kid and didn’t deserve any of this. Again, he marveled at her resiliency. Considering everything they’d been through, she seemed remarkably poised. He gave a tiny portion of the credit to himself, knowing she’d tapped into his composed nature. Overall, he had no complaints.

Without his shirt, Nathan felt a little chilled, so he adjusted the temperature. Scrolling through his cell’s log, he found Jin’s number and made the call. He hadn’t expected an answer and didn’t get one. He let it ring ten times before giving up. If Jin’s call had originated from a cellular carrier, it should’ve forwarded to voice mail. He pictured an isolated pay phone ringing into the night somewhere. For now, it seemed she would have to be the one to initiate any additional contact.

Thinking about Jin was a stark reminder he needed to call his father. Sooner or later, he’d have to break the news. He glanced at his watch — just after 2300, making it 0200 in Washington. There was no sense calling his dad in the middle of the night. Although the startling news of a long-lost Korean daughter warranted a wake-up call, he thought it could wait. After sixty years, what was five more hours? Besides, Nathan knew how he’d feel if the situation were reversed. He wouldn’t want a midnight call from his dad telling him he had a teenage son or daughter. Good luck falling back asleep after hearing that.

He also owed Voda another call. After their initial call, which Holly had recorded, Nathan had told Voda he’d call him back. Voda…What kind of person could murder a young girl like Lauren? Not only murder her, but do unspeakable evil first. Did he feel no guilt? No shame? Was it arrogance? Smug superiority? What drove the guy? It had to be insanity, but Nathan knew not all killers were technically insane. Some of them simply enjoyed violence, enjoyed torturing and killing. He’d had this discussion with Holly several times, and although she’d tried to explain it, he just didn’t get it.

Despite what he used to do for a living, he didn’t consider himself a cold-blooded killer. Yes, he’d been a sniper, but he’d always believed the kills he and Harv made were both supportable and warranted. They’d saved countless innocent lives. Was the death of one evil person worth the lives of ten good people? Was that a fair trade? Perhaps it defined what snipers do: trade lives.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“What were you thinking about?”

“It’s kinda personal, but if you must know, I was thinking about killing Voda.”

“I’ve thought about it too. Is that bad?”

“For someone your age, I’d have to say…maybe.”

They drove in silence for a while.

“Nathan, do you believe in evil?”

“You mean theologically?”

“I guess.”

“Then yes, I believe in evil. There are dark forces working in direct opposition to God.”

“Is it hard being religious — you know, like being a Christian?”

“I can’t speak for anyone else, but to answer your question…yes.”

“Was Voda going to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“And do other things too?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“I’m glad you saved me.”

“Try not to think about it.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“Do you know what
intangible
means?”

“No.”

“It refers to something we can’t understand. The circumstances that brought you into my life, and me into yours, are intangible. Think about it. If you take one thing from our pasts and change it, a completely different outcome happens. Look at tonight’s events. If I had waited one extra minute to respond to your texts, I may not have seen the black SUV leaving the Exxon station. I could’ve arrived after you were gone and just driven home. In truth, that’s nearly what happened. Think about our close call with the security patrol at the warehouse. If he’d seen us hiding in the backseat, a new set of variables would’ve been in play. The security guard driving that vehicle didn’t know our situation. All he would’ve seen was a grown man and a twelve-year-old girl lying down in the backseat of a car together. Since we didn’t look homeless, he would’ve been suspicious and might’ve called the police. When you broke my concentration, I was formulating a plan based on what the security guard did or didn’t do. I call them if-then scenarios. If the security guard does this, then I’ll do that. And each if-then event triggers another, and another. It’s a chain that contains a vast number of possibilities based on the original, triggering event. After you sent me the text, a chain of events unfolded that led to us being together. In a visual way, think about the shape of a pyramid. The triggering event is the top, and the base represents all the possible outcomes. The height of the pyramid represents the length of time since the triggering event.”