The Buried

CHAPTER 28

Dani hadn’t realized something was wrong until they reached Waitsburg.

“You can leave me here,” she said. “Anywhere’s fine.”

“Here? Nah. You don’t want to get out here,” Ricky said.

He then raced straight through town, ignoring all traffic signs.

When she had tried to open the door and jump out, he grabbed her arm, pulled her back, and punched her in the jaw. That had knocked her out. How long, she wasn’t sure, but when she woke, they were rambling down a highway, the sky still dark.

“I suggest you not try that again or I’ll really hit you next time,” Ricky said.

Dani scooted as far away from him as she could, biding her time until an opportunity to escape presented itself.

One never came.

As they neared Spokane, he grabbed her again and pulled to the side of the road. This time, instead of punching her, he manhandled her into the back.

He flashed her a look at the gun in a holster under his arm. “Don’t try anything.”

He climbed out of the car and retrieved something from the trunk. After opening the passenger-side rear door, he slid in next to her and held out a bottle of water.

“Drink it.”

“I’m not thirsty,” she said.

He pulled out his gun and pointed it at her ribs. “Drink it.”

“You won’t kill me.”

He chuckled. “You know, you’re right.” He switched his aim to her thigh. “But I have no problem hurting you a little bit. Now drink.”

She reluctantly took the bottle from him. As she unscrewed the top, she realized the seal had already been broken.

“Go on,” he said.

She pretended to take a sip.

“That was very pretty. Now take a nice, big gulp, or in a few seconds I’ll put a new hole in your jeans.”

She did as he ordered.

“Now finish it,” he told her.

She downed the bottle.

The first wave of dizziness hit before she had even removed the bottle from her lips. Within moments, she was leaning back, barely able to keep her eyes open.

Ricky took the bottle from her and laid her down across the seat. “Don’t worry. You’ll only have a little bit of a headache when you wake up.”

The last thing she remembered was hearing him get out of the car and shut the door.

Orbits had been doing a lot of thinking on the drive to Spokane.

It was possible the Californians were responsible for the roadblock, but he hadn’t seen any sign of them since Yakima so he wasn’t going to jump to that conclusion. Whoever it was had access to some pretty extensive resources. Considering that and what he had seen of the Californians’ operation, he couldn’t ignore the fact that a hell of a lot of money was being poured into capturing the girl. Which led him to one very annoying conclusion: Even with his fee doubled, he was being woefully underpaid.

He began to wonder how many others were looking for the girl.

There was his client, plus the Russians who’d tried to hire him, and the Californians at the very least. He was willing to bet there were more.

His dour mood brightened as the outline of a new business opportunity formed.

After drugging the girl, he found a quiet motel on the edge of Spokane. The room was ratty and nowhere near the standards he preferred, but it would do. Setting his alarm for three hours, he lay down and contemplated the windfall he was about to receive until he fell asleep.

Orbits rose again at 7:30, even more convinced he could pull off his idea.

He checked the girl and called Donnie.

“I need three things right away,” he said.

“Hold on.” Movement on the other end, the rustling of sheets and then paper. “I’m ready. Go ahead.”

“One, a secure location in or near Chicago. Clean, you understand? Nothing to tie it to any previous operation. Two, a four-man support team with their own gear. They can’t be afraid to get dirty if needed. And three, a private jet from Spokane to Chicago that can leave within the hour.”

“All that’s going to be expensive.”

Orbits knew the costs would be a drop in the bucket if everything went as planned. “I don’t care. Just do it. The plane first. You can work on the rest while I’m in the air.”

Donnie called back ten minutes later with flight information, and a half hour after that, Orbits and the girl arrived at the specified airport entrance.

As he’d hoped, no one questioned his story of a sick sister he was taking home to their parents’ house. It was all in how you sold your story, and boy, could he sell. He even doted on her during the flight, just because it amused him.

When they arrived in Chicago, Donnie had an ambulance waiting, driven by one of Orbits’s temporary team members.

They headed south from O’Hare airport, along the western edge of the city to an empty industrial building in Broadview. They passed through a gate in the fence that surrounded the property and drove straight into the building, courtesy of a large metal door rolled up.

The three other members of Orbits’s team were waiting inside. After instructing them to take the girl into the most secure room, Orbits found an empty office where he could have some privacy. He pulled out the piece of paper he’d used to work out the details of his plan and called Donnie again.

“I think you’re going to enjoy this,” he said before laying out his plan.

“Whoa,” Donnie whispered when Orbits finished.

“Whoa as in you can’t do it?” Orbits asked.

“No, as in that’s pretty crazy. I mean, good crazy, you know?”

“Then you can make it happen.”

“I’ll need an hour or two to work out the details, but I don’t foresee any problems. What’s the timeline?”

Orbits thought for a moment. He needed this to happen fast so that no one could waste time looking for him. He glanced at his watch. It was already 2:30 in the afternoon, Central time. Assuming Donnie would need all of the two hours…

“Start it at four thirty my time, with a two-hour time limit. But use Pacific time since that’s where everyone will think she is.”

“Dammit,” Orlando exclaimed.

Quinn twisted around in the front passenger seat, where he’d been keeping Daeng company. “What is it?”

“Come back here.”

“Garrett, you’ve got copilot duty,” Quinn said.

Smiling, Orlando’s son moved to the side to let Quinn out, and then took the passenger seat.

“Did she stop again?” Quinn asked. Twenty minutes earlier, Dani’s tracking chip had started to move once more.

From the look Orlando gave him, he knew it wouldn’t be good news. “She’s flying.”

“Flying? Are you sure?”

She turned the screen toward him. The blip representing Dani was now moving eastward, heedless of any roads and at a clip no car could match.

“Where is she going?” Quinn said under his breath.

Though he hadn’t expected an answer, Orlando said, “Their current course will take them anywhere from Minneapolis in the north to St. Louis in the south, and as far east as New York or possibly Boston.”

“She can’t be doing this on her own. Someone must have her.”

Orlando nodded. “There can’t be that many places in Spokane to rent a jet. I’ll make some calls.”

“While you’re at it, see if you can arrange one for me,” he said.

She frowned at him, and then opened the browser on her computer.

Out of the corner of her eye, Orlando watched Quinn return to the front of the RV. She was angrier than she had a right to be, but she couldn’t help it.

He had asked her to arrange a plane for him, not them. He’d probably take Nate and Daeng but clearly intended to leave her behind. Was it the right call? Maybe, but she didn’t care about the right call. She needed to be where she was useful, and that was wherever he was.

The baby pushed against her stomach. “Quiet, you,” she whispered, taking the baby’s movement as traitorous support of its father’s viewpoint.

She’d been right about jet rental places. There was only a handful in the city. She worked her way through the list and found the winner at number four. Someone there told her a man had chartered a flight that morning to take his ill sister home. But when Orlando pressed for more details, the person had clammed up and not divulged the jet’s destination.

That wasn’t a big problem, though. She had the name of the company now, so it was easy to find a listing of tail numbers of all the company’s aircraft. Since flight plans were public record, all she had to do was plug in the different numbers until she found the right one.

Chicago.

She almost hollered out the info, but remembered she was annoyed with Quinn. She decided it could wait. She arranged for a jet from a rival company that could hold up to ten passengers, and then switched back to the tracking map. Though she feared the flight plan was false, Dani’s plane was still on course for the Windy City.

A ding signaled the arrival of an e-mail. It was from Gordon Evert, a fixer in San Diego she had known before either of them had entered the business.

“How did I know you’d try me right away?” Evert said when she called.

“How’s it going, Gordon?”

“You know, all sunshine and pretty ladies. When you coming home for a visit?”

Orlando had spent much of her youth in San Diego. It’s where her mentor, Abraham Delger, had recruited her. “Soon. Tell me about Tex Winston.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Ideally, where I can find him right now.”

“I believe I can help you with that.”

When she finished talking to Gordon, she called the jet company back and reserved a second plane.

“Absolutely not,” Quinn said.

They were in the RV, parked in the airport lot next to the private jet terminal. Mr. and Mrs. Vo had taken Garrett out to look at the planes.

“Who else are you going to send?” Orlando argued.

“Daeng can do it.”

Orlando glanced at Daeng. “No offense…”

“Why do I think I’m about to be offended?” Daeng said.

Orlando turned back to Quinn. “Daeng isn’t the best interrogator. He’s too nice.”

“It’s true,” Daeng agreed.

“Besides, we can’t send him in alone,” she added.

“I wasn’t planning on sending him in alone,” Quinn said. “I was planning on getting him some help.”

“Just not me.”

He hesitated before saying, “I was thinking Ananke.”

Orlando threw her arms up. “Oh, that’s just great. You think Ananke is a better interrogator than Daeng? She kills people for a living. She doesn’t talk to them.”

“She can handle the job.”

“I know what to ask him. I know what we need to know. I need to be the one who goes.”

“You and Daeng can’t do it on your own.”

“Fine! Then…call Ananke, if you want. She and Daeng can do their thing but I’ll talk to him.”

“Orlando, look at yourself. You’re going to have a baby at any minute.”

“My due date isn’t for two weeks.”

“Nine days.”

“Okay, nine days. That’s still not today.”

Quinn knew she would not let go of the idea. Though he was sure he’d regret it, he said, “All right, all right. Go. But anything dangerous you leave to the others.” He turned and pointed at Daeng. “And you are responsible for anything that happens to her.”

“Me?” Daeng said. “This wasn’t my idea.”