“Then he’s not the head of the snake,” I surmise, studying Carnes. “Who is it? Who do you and Scavino answer to?”
“I don’t know,” Carnes replies quickly, holding his arms up. “I swear. I just know he has big money backing him.”
“To commit treason,” President Alexander growls. To my utter surprise, he throws a punch at Carnes, hitting him square in the bridge of his nose.
Blood spurts out, splattering my chest, and Carnes squeals like a pig. Once again, the doors burst open as agents rush in.
This time, Alexander doesn’t wave them off. Instead, he nods toward Carnes. “Take him into custody, then call the FBI to place him under arrest for treason. And I’m sure a host of other charges, too.”
The agents move in as Carnes screams. “You promised if I helped, I’d get recognition of that.”
“And you will,” the president replies as they start to pull Carnes away. “As long as what you’ve provided leads to us finding Barrett quickly and safely.”
“Malcolm,” Alexander says to one of the agents who steps forward. He and I shared protective detail when Alexander was vice president and he chose to stay on. He’s a good man. “I want you to go to Clarence Scavino’s office. Take him into custody. We’ll turn him over to the FBI but for right now, I want him isolated from all people and access to phones or computers.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies without asking for any other details. He sharply pivots, then heads out of the office.
When we’re alone, Alexander turns to Kynan and me. “Not much we can do right now except wait for federal prosecutors and the FBI to step in and interview Scavino.”
“You should have let us take a crack at him,” I gripe.
Alexander shakes his head. “This is high treason, Cruce. It goes beyond just Barrett now. It’s about contravening presidential policy as well as the law. I have to go by the books.”
“When will they talk to him?” I ask.
His expression is grim. “Soon. Probably within the hour. But he’ll lawyer up.”
“Fuck,” I grunt, wanting to ram my fist through the wall.
“Bebe,” Kynan says, but him saying her name doesn’t make sense to me.
“Huh?”
“Bebe,” he says again. “Let’s get Bebe to start digging digitally. Let her hack Scavino’s computer, phone records, and bank accounts. It might take her a few hours, but it’s better than nothing.”
“No, wait,” I say with a sudden burst of inspiration. “Call back your men on Scavino. Let’s set him up to force him to call his money benefactor.”
“How’s that?” Alexander asks, but Kynan nods his agreement without me needing to explain.
“We spook him,” I reply. “Get Carnes to tell him that we were nosing around asking questions about Barrett’s kidnapping. He can tell Scavino he’s scared, but then assure him that he kept his mouth shut. That could make him reach out to warn whoever is actually running this show.”
Alexander doesn’t hesitate. He exits the Oval Office, and I get an image of him sprinting down the hall to catch up with the agents he’d just dispatched to grab Scavino.
To Kynan, I say, “You need to assemble a strike team ASAP. We could be ready to move on this guy to find Barrett very soon.”
He pulls his phone out to make the call. “I already had them come to D.C. They’re on standby. I’ll get them here.”
I move over to look out the set of three tall windows behind the president’s desk, staring blankly at the Rose Garden that borders the exterior of the Oval Office. There’s a chance I’d see Barrett shortly.
Hold her in my arms.
This should alleviate my worry, but it doesn’t. They’ve had her for over twelve hours, which is a hell of a long time to implement torture techniques to make someone talk. I can only hope and pray the grit and determination she has within her is enough to fortify her resolve to hold onto her secrets.
Because once she tells them what they want to know, they will have no further use for her.CHAPTER 21BarrettMy teeth chatter ceaselessly.
So damn cold down here.
It’s a regular basement as best I can tell, but the room they put me in must be soundproofed because it’s deadly quiet when the door is closed. I can’t hear any noises whatsoever.
They’ve also left me in absolute darkness. Not even a thin line of light under the door from the outside can be seen.
It’s almost like a sensory-deprivation chamber given I can’t see or hear anything, but I sure as hell can feel the cold, so not quite.
No clue how long I’ve been in here. Feels like hours, but I’m so uncomfortable it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s only been minutes. That oaf Paul put me in a folding metal chair, then tied my hands behind my back and my ankles to the metal legs. I tested the strength of the rope bonds, but there was no wiggle room. When he left, the resounding sound of metal sliding against metal told me there was more than just a standard lock on the door. I would not be leaving from this side on my own, so I stopped struggling with the ropes to conserve my energy.