SEAL's Code Page 11

  “No man in your life?” Luci asked.

  Younghorse shook her head slowly. “No. I think I wasn’t meant for the family life. I cared for my mother until she passed at ninety-six. When I looked up, all the men were gone.” She shrugged. “I have so many wonderful friends in L.A. I’ve not wanted for anything.”

  Griffin needed changing and Luci found a clean table to cover and used it as a changing table. Jenny watched her carefully, several feet away.

  “You want to hold him?”

  “I don’t know how to handle a baby that small. Usually, I’m more comfortable with them when they’re toddlers, although I still prefer them when they can talk and and when I don’t have to worry about where the paint’s going to land.”

  They both laughed. “I think you should hold him. You know, this little man’s great-grandfather was a Code Talker as well.”

  “Seriously?” Jenny’s eyes grew wide as she inclined her head.

  “Chester Begay is his daddy’s grandfather.”

  “Ah! Yes. I remember Chester. He was like royalty in our house. Mother said he came and consoled her when my father died. She told me later on she’d tried to flirt with him, steal him away from his Jenny. That’s where mother got my name.”

  Luci was stunned at what a tangled knot of family stories existed on the res.

  “I used to babysit his two kids, Harry and Alberta, during part of one summer when Chester and Jenny traveled on tribal business. Those two kids were wild.”

  Luci had never heard Danny talk about his father, now that she thought about it. She’d met his aunt, though.

  “I don’t know him.”

  “He disappeared one summer on a hunting trip. They never found him. I had been living in L.A. for a long time, of course, but news traveled quickly. Very sad.”

  Luci held Griffin up. Jenny hesitated, then stretched out her hands and held Griffin under his armpits, his dimpled legs dangling in midair, doing bicycle movements.

  “You’re a strong little warrior, I see. I foresee many adventures coming your way.”

  “Here,” Luci said as she arranged Griff to be cradled in the older woman’s arms, but the baby stiffened his back, arched up, and began to cry immediately. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. Like I said, I do better when we can have a conversation.” She handed the squalling baby back.

  Luci put him to her breast and sat down, adjusting her body for privacy. She looked around through the dirty windows of the warehouse to the outside. “Wonder why Sarah’s been so long.”

  The calm demeanor of Younghorse’s face left her quickly, as she dropped the towel she was holding and flew out the door. Barely a minute passed when Jenny Younghorse’s tiny frame shadowed the doorway, her palm to her forehead. She looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Luci,” she said, her face pale, eyes pleading, “something’s wrong!”

  Chapter 19

  ‡

  Danny got a frantic call from Luci at three o’clock in the morning Djibouti time.

  “Sarah’s gone. Just like all the others, Danny. She’s gone!” she screamed.

  Whatever remnants of a pleasant dream he was having about being with Luci dissipated in the blink of an eye. He felt adrenaline pump into his body as he stepped around the small body of Ali, asleep on a small mattress beside his bed. He walked to the hallway and out of the room he shared with four other SEALs.

  “How did this happen? Tell me everything.”

  “I went to pick her up from her art class. The teacher had asked her to take out some trash when I arrived, and when she didn’t come right back, we went looking for her. She’s been taken, Danny.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She dropped the boxes she was supposed to throw away, the ground looked like she’d fallen, looks like there was a scuffle with papers and rags thrown everywhere. There are multiple footprints. Danny, I was afraid to look in the dumpster for fear—”

  “Nonsense, hold on, Luci. We’ll find her. What do the police say?”

  “They’ve brought in the FBI.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad they were brought in. When did this happen?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  Danny felt helpless halfway across the globe and unable to do anything. He knew Cooper had friends in the Bureau in California as well as Virginia. He’d make a point to have some calls made on Luci’s behalf when Coop got up. He was the Team’s gentle giant, their medic and all-around fixit guy with connections. He didn’t want to get Coop worked up until he’d had his full allotment of rest.

  “Do they have any suspects? You see anyone or anything that was unusual?”

  “Not a thing, Danny. I’m wracking my brain here.” She paused and then Danny heard her almost whisper, “They found another kidnapped girl five days ago, well, didn’t find her, just found her missing. In the middle of the night. Snatched right from her bed, we think.”

  “We?”

  “Rumors, information released by the tribal police who were already working with the FBI on that case. First time it’s happened so close together.”

  “Any chance, Luci, she could have gone somewhere with someone and not told you?”

  “No chance, Danny. You know Sarah. And with that other girl—oh, God, Danny what am I going to do?”

  “You start the vigil. Give them photographs, if you haven’t already. Let them plaster it everywhere. Maybe someone’s seen her.”

  “I’m going home to get them right now.” Danny could hear her voice break, and the anguish left his stomach in a knot. He hated not being able to be with her and aid in the search. He would ask Kyle for emergency leave, but doubted it’d be granted.

  Fuck it.

  He decided as soon as he got off the phone with Luci, he’d wake Coop up and see if there wasn’t something additional that could be put in place, as well as get a liaison to give him information and updates. He’d be in Hell without it.

  “Luci, go get those photographs so they can start the search immediately. The next twenty-four hours are the most important. After that, sweetheart, it’s a long waiting game. Right now you think of anything that you noticed out of place, and go check her room. You find something, you just leave it alone for the Feds. But visually scan the room and look for something odd, or out of the ordinary.”

  “Will do. Danny, any chance you could come home?”

  “Not much, Luce. I wish I could be more encouraging. But keep me in the loop. I’m going to talk to one of the team guys who is fairly well connected. If I get anything, I’ll pass it along to you.”

  “Thanks. Oh, my God, Danny, I feel like this is my fault.”

  “No, it’s not your fault at all. There’s a creep out there. Maybe more than one. But we’ll find them. Be very, very careful who you let into your inner circle right now, Luci. Very careful. Someone knows more than they are letting on.”

  “I just won’t forgive myself if she’s found—”

  “Don’t say it, Luce. Right now, don’t let your emotions rule. You have to think to be of help to the investigation. Keep your wits about you. Try to remember things. I know it sounds completely impossible right now, but try to stay calm and think. And help your mother do the same. More than likely, something has happened you didn’t notice, got that? Not your fault, but try to concentrate on every little detail.”

  “Thank you. I will.” She blew her nose and added, “Love you, Danny.”

  “Love you, Luci. Griffin being good?”

  “The best.”

  “Let him comfort you until I can get there. I’ll ask if they’ll let me go, but don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.”

  Danny hung up with a lump in his throat. He found the advice he’d given Luci ironic, since his emotions were all over the lot. Fresh off the murder of Ali’s father two days ago and his constant reassurance of the young boy, he now had another front to fight and another battle with his emotions. He understood now that he was healthy and fit
, the sharp edges of his emotions cut into him unlike he’d remembered before the Navy. If anything, the hurt was more piercing. The gritty reality of war, death, and destruction he experienced on a first-name basis. It was one thing to be prepared for battle with his buddies around him, his equipment and training giving him the advantage, and quite another to sit back and listen to innocents at home being victimized by some of the same strains of fungus that he had to, unfortunately share the planet with.

  Coop was clearly not happy, but when he reached over and turned his bedside low voltage lamp on, peered back at Danny and got a good look at his face, Danny saw a marked change.

  “’Sup, big guy?”

  “Luci just called. Her little sister’s gone missing. Remember I talked to you about the Feds coming on the res to do some investigation of missing girls? I need a favor, Coop. I need to get some eyes I trust down there, since obviously Kyle won’t let me.”

  “Won’t let you do what?” Kyle shouted from the other side of the small room he shared with Coop.

  “Sir, my girl’s little sister has gone missing in Arizona.”

  Kyle coughed and gave him a string of filthy words. “You fuckin’ know the answer is no. We didn’t let guys go home for much worse things. Shit, Derek missed his whole fuckin’ wedding, Begay. It sucks, but you gotta buck up.”

  There was no problem there. Consistent as he was a leader, Danny knew this would be his reaction. “I’m good with that. Not complaining.”

  Kyle turned on his light and sat up. “Fuck. I gotta go pee. Hold that thought.”

  “Me too,” said Coop. As Danny began to rise and follow him, Coop turned, “Get the fuck off my back, Begay. I’m not going to have you watch me take a pee. I can do without the eyes on my dick, you feel me?”

  “Sorry. Wasn’t gonna—”

  He heard Coop talking to Kyle’s back as they waddled barefoot down the hall, stating things like, “Crazy Injuns. They got some cultural things we gotta get straight once and for all.”

  “I didn’t hear him come in, did you?”

  “Fuck no.”

  The rest of the conversation was muted behind the privy door. When they returned, Kyle started with the questions.

  “So, Coop here says this has been happening and they don’t have a clue who is doing it? You’re thinking there’s a ring going after these girls, killing some of them and shit?”

  “I don’t know, Kyle, but I wanted Coop to talk to his friends, see if we can get someone I trust giving me information. It’s not anything I can do anything about, except make sure she has the very best help. Things on the res work differently than normal law enforcement.”

  “No shit.”

  “People don’t trust outsiders, so they’re not gonna tell them anything unless they think they have to. But something is going on. I should have asked you before, Coop. I’m kicking myself for not thinking about it sooner.” Danny felt he gave them the most honest answer he could.

  “Why do they distrust—oh, I get it, the cowboys and Indians thing,” Kyle said.

  “Exactly.”

  Jeffrey slid past the door and sat down on one of the beds. “Can I take a listen?” he asked.

  “Sure. Let’s wake up the whole fuckin’ squad,” Kyle said. Then he sighed. “Look, Begay, I’m real sorry about this. One thing to get a call or make a call to home. Calling a secure line at the Bureau or wherever the hell it would be, well, Coop’s not at liberty to call from over here unless we get chain of command permission. They monitor everything from this place.”

  “Understood,” Danny answered. “What can I do, then?”

  “You can pick up one of those sat phones on the black market. The untraceable ones,” Jeffrey answered helpfully.

  “Whoa, seriously?” Coop asked. “Why am I not surprised you’d know that, Parker?”

  “You sure?” Kyle asked.

  “Sure it’s untraceable or sure I can get one?” Jeffrey leaned back on his elbows, his legs extended, crossed at the ankles. “As soon as the sun comes up, I can have one within an hour, I’ll bet. Maybe before. But I won’t risk leaving the compound without permission.”

  “Hold it. Coop, you have anybody to call?” Kyle asked, rolling his right shoulder and cracking his neck.

  “I got the guy. Remember we got help with Rory’s dad? That guy.”

  “Okay, then. Nothing we can do until sunrise in a couple of hours. You guys get back to bed and get more rest if you can. Then you fill Coop in while Jeffrey and I go get you a phone.”

  Everyone nodded in Kyle’s direction.

  “By the way, I’m not paying for it. I hope you are, Jeffrey, ’cause it sounds expensive.”

  “No worries. I got Danny covered this time,” said Jeffrey.

  Just as planned, at oh-eight-hundred Jeffrey was the proud new owner of a state-of-the-art Finnish sat phone, in its own pink case, complete with charged up spare batteries and a Hello Kitty logo stitched in leather on the small backpack case made for a child.

  Chapter 20

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  Cortland Sanders was an odd duck and he liked it that way. He always caught the unusual cases the Bureau couldn’t figure out who to assign. Because of his boyish appearance, he could go undercover in high school. He was big enough to ride with bikers if he shaved his head and grew a beard, albeit a scraggly one. He had designs covering both his legs from the knees down and a large dragon tat covering most of his back. He was saving his chest and belly for something really special. He hadn’t found it yet.

  There weren’t many things that scared him. He wasn’t afraid of getting fired because he knew too much about too many people, and he could read enemies better than anyone else could. He wasn’t afraid of any of the assortment of bad guys he hunted down. But he hated one category of criminal with a passion so great, it was all he could do not to waste the MFers when he caught them.

  He hated child molesters. They were subhuman detritus of society, throwaway people who could never be rehabilitated. No lifelong living in a cell, even in a maximum security prison cell or mixed amongst a dangerous prison population, was near punishment enough. They all deserved to have the flesh peeled from their muscles in one-inch strips. Indeed, he’d often visualized doing just that. It’s what he thought of at night when he couldn’t sleep.

  Better than counting sheep.

  He knew some day he’d do it. And that’s what scared him most of all. Someday, when the sun was just right, when the combination of adrenaline and emotional pain became too much to bear, he’d cave, and that would be the end of what little shred he had of his own humanity. There’d be no paperwork. He’d go out in a blaze of glory and leave the forms to some other asshole who wouldn’t know how to structure the report so it didn’t read like science fiction to the superiors at the Bureau. When he was ripe, done, and ready to roll out of this realm, he’d do it like no other in the history of mankind. He’d be remembered.

  Stationed in Los Angeles, where he could blend into whatever crowd he fancied each day, he frequented the dungeons and playrooms of the counterculture, the ones without safety codes or where the vetting was lax, looking for unwilling or unsuspecting underage participants. He didn’t have a problem with consenting adults old enough to know what the hell they were getting into. But the sight of an underage young girl or boy, drugged up or otherwise bridled, perhaps bound and gagged, would make his blood boil.

  When he found them, he was careful not to blow his cover so he could continue to use these dangerous rooms as his personal form of bait to catch the bad guys. They were nearly all men. But his hatred extended to women who would sell their own daughters or grandkids for drugs or other habits.

  When Sanders was called and asked to lead the investigation of the missing girls on the Navajo reservation, his apprehension surprised him. He’d related so well to colorful characters in history like Sam Houston who used to go native. In fact, he’d thought when he checked out some day, that’s where he’d run. He’d run to a sov
ereign nation with its own government and tribal police that didn’t know dick about anything in his white man’s culture.

  He didn’t need to know too much about them to live amongst their People, as they called themselves. He liked the fact that they’d never be understood by the white man, his own ancestors, people he couldn’t relate to either. He also liked the idea of being a blond hair transplant on a Native American warrior’s scalp—something that would hurt like hell to remove, but would always just hang on and look different no matter how the hair was cut, braided, or beaded. He’d hide in plain sight.

  A further complication to the investigation was the fact that another FBI undercover agent had not been heard from in nearly two weeks. Why they’d waited so long to get someone else on board was a mystery to Sanders. It was a niggling question which gave him heartburn. Loss of one agent was certainly bad news, but could be explained away by some mistake or slip-up on the part of the undercover agent. But when special agent Logan also went missing, it meant something else entirely. It indicated to Sanders there was some kind of organization in place. He was anxious to get to the bottom of it. He didn’t like dangling questions.

  He interviewed several of the family members, nice decent women and men who walked a gentle path he never had the luxury to experience. The local tribal police were not much help, considering it a hate crime against their nation, which Sanders knew was dead wrong. It wasn’t until he bumped up against Assistant Sheriff Payette that his nose began to sniff out something which started to make him salivate. Somehow he knew Payette was involved. That little pimple of a man with his big guns and brand new Tahoe with the shiny lights had no idea who he’d soon be messing with. Squeezing that one would be just as satisfying as the zits he squeezed in high school. But that was a whole other story.

  He didn’t look Payette in the eyes because he was half afraid some ancient preternatural spirit would come out and flash red eyes at him and tip the guy off. Sanders wanted to catch him as close to red-handed as he dared allow. He wanted to dictate the manner and time of this asshole’s demise.