Dead Man's Land by Jack Patterson (digital e reader .txt) 📕

back to the table and pulled his chair out again to have a seat. “Tell me about that night.”

Prado swallowed hard as he forced the words to come out. “What do you want to know?”

CHAPTER 25

WALLER TAPPED HIS PENCIL on his notebook and stared out the window. The slow-turning wheels of government bureaucracy ground to a halt. Of all the agencies he worked with, the Department of Homeland Security operated on greased skids. If there was an issue, it always seemed urgent. His lack of response from them on the matter of Vicente Prado meant perhaps it wasn’t the high priority he believed it to be—or something else was afoot.

He put his pencil down and clicked on his favorite playlist while he waited for a call back. With his ear buds in, he gazed out the window and imagined himself sitting in the same spot in Sausalito, California, where Otis Redding penned the classic, “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay.” Waller felt like he was doing nothing more than wasting time.

“Heard anything yet?” Hampton said.

Waller yanked the buds out of his ears. “Geez, Hampton. You scared me half to death.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re not doing any work.”

Waller sighed and gestured toward his phone. “I’m trying but DHS is in shutdown mode or something. I don’t know. They won’t call me back.”

“Maybe they caught Prado already.”

“What about the kidnappers? Seems they might be high up on DHS’s most-wanted list after that stunt.”

“They didn’t leave much of a trail to follow. They paid in cash, used fake IDs, and operated out of smaller locales where security video footage wouldn’t be likely.”

Hampton ran his fingers through his hair. “I remember their faces. And if I ever see them again, so help me God—”

Waller’s phone rang. “Hold that threat.” He answered. “This is Waller.” He put the call on speaker phone.

“Waller, this is Sheila Doleman from DHS. I’m just returning your call.”

“Thanks. We’ve been unable to get any new leads and we’re wondering if you wouldn’t mind sharing with us why this is such a high priority. It might help us do our job better.”

She sighed. “Again, I’m not really at liberty to discuss all that, especially on speaker.”

Waller clicked off speaker and picked up the handset. “Look, we need to know what we’re dealing with. Maybe it might give us some clue as to who these guys are. We’re just not able to track them down with what you’ve given us.”

“I can’t divulge everything, but I can tell you that we think those men involved in the kidnapping were working for the Cuban government.”

“So, Cuba’s sending people over here to kidnap them?”

“Highly doubtful. We believe it was probably a situation where they hired someone stateside.”

“Mercenaries? Here? In the U.S.? Working for the Cuban government?”

“That’s our best guess right now based off what we know around the case.”

“Well, I wish you’d tell us something so we could figure out what’s going on.”

“Again, I don’t want to beat a dead horse, but I just can’t tell you.”

Waller exhaled a long breath through his teeth. He felt just like he did when he called his cable company to complain. If he didn’t get an answer fast, he was going to lose it. “I’m not asking you to divulge everything, but just a hint of what’s going on here.”

“Fine. I’ll send you a redacted document within the hour and you can review it for yourself and see if it will help you.”

“Anything we can glean from those documents might help us catch the kidnappers. The best way for us to solve this is to work backward, starting with these so-called mercenaries.”

“Okay. Have you spoken with the journalist yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, do it quickly. He’s trying to leave the country. We blocked him from getting the proper documentation to enter Cuba as a journalist, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try some other way.”

Waller hung up and immediately dialed Cal Murphy.

“Mr. Murphy, this is Gus Waller from the FBI.”

“Good to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from you again after the way your boss went after my editor.”

“That was unfortunate, but he can be a real pain sometimes.”

“Can’t they all? So, you got anything for me?”

Waller spun around in his chair. “Not yet, but you’ll be the first to know when we do.”

“So, you just wanted to call and say hello?”

“Actually, I wanted to make sure you weren’t planning on going anywhere.”

“I can’t go anywhere? Am I under suspicion?”

“Suspicion that you might leave the country and try to go to Cuba.”

“It’s a free country.”

“Cuba isn’t—and based on this current situation, it’s not advisable for you to travel over there.”

“Well, somebody over there made sure of that by blocking me from going as a journalist.”

Waller stood up and stretched. “It’s for your own good. Trust me.”

“This coming from the man who’s hard at work tracking down a pair of kidnappers after you let Prado slip between your fingers. I would’ve kept him myself had I known that would happen.”

“I’d love to tell you more about this case, but I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? Or maybe you don’t even know.”

“Just bear with us. We’re going to catch these guys and I promise you’ll be the first to get this story. It’ll be an exclusive.”

“I’ve heard that promise one too many times to believe it.”

Waller sighed. “Just believe me when I say that it’s for your own good to stay here in the U.S. Don’t break my trust, okay?”

“You mean don’t break your trust like you already broke mine?”

“We’re not adversaries here, Mr. Murphy. We both want the same thing.”

“I don’t think so,” Cal said. “I want a story—and Vicente Prado back here playing for the Yakima Seafarers. I doubt that’s your same aim. I think you want information.”

The line went dead.

Waller hung up and slumped into his chair.

“Problems in River City?” Hampton asked from his cubicle situated next to Waller’s.

Waller nodded. “Cal Murphy is going to Cuba. I just know it.