I pulled the phone out again, and checked another major city. Systematically going through them. London. Hong Kong. Miami. Los Angeles. New York. Dubai. Anywhere that madman might have taken her.
He could be anywhere in the world by now. I slammed a fist into the wall. She could be dead by now.
Could be. But I didn't believe it. Because her tracker was sending out information just like it was supposed to. Tracking dots bloomed across the screen with the U.S. mapped on it and then sent out ripples showing she was there.
And there. And there.
That was the problem. There were multiple signals and they all had the same signature. They were all the same tracking device I'd implanted in her.
She couldn't be in half a dozen places at once. But a cloned tracker could. When I'd put it in her, I hadn't been thinking in terms of Vincent Geddes. Mostly I'd been anticipating a time when she would run again. Or maybe she'd be taken in a kidnapping for money, ransom and extortion.
Not by the billionaire down the road.
I moved through the halls of the compound, in and out of spring sunlight. Through corridors Annie had never seen. Into a secure communications room, and through it, into a room like an emergency services 911 dispatch room.
On the far wall, maps flickered up into being and were gone again. There was a low, tense, electric current of excitement and anticipation. Everyone wanted to bring Annie home. The reward would be tremendous.
Because they all know I don't misplace my property.
In the blue-lit room were the best hackers and computer techs in the country, sitting in front of stations, collected and brought here within the last ninety minutes. Some of them owed me favors. Others hoped to collect. Still others simply wanted a flat fee. They were the best at what they did or they weren't here.
"Tokyo, Moscow, London, New York." I was already reading out names and assignments. I was already calling in favors even as these people hacked and slashed their way into systems not made for them. Looking for traces of anything strange, putting together algorithms that could pick up the smallest anomaly, the merest hint of a woman who looked like Annie.
The favors:
In New York City, an ex-Marine with one too many bar fights on his record. We'd gotten him anger management classes, made a conviction go away when he broke a guy's back. He was a tracker. Human style.
In London, a woman with high security clearance and an unfortunate fondness for all the wrong things in bed. Not things that would be tolerated in her society. She had the ability to bring in military surveillance.
In Cabo, a talented prostitute who just happened to frequently sleep with an American expat general I thought would have some interesting ideas for finding Annie.
And Annie – her tracker was pinging off satellites or whatever it is they do and there seemed to be six Annies moving around the world.
That would scare most people but the tracker was small. If Vincent had dismembered her, the tracker would almost undoubtedly have gone whole, wherever that part of Annie's body went. It wouldn't have sent out extra signals. If the tracker had been cut up, it would have stopped working.
He'd cloned it. That was all.
I told myself that over and over and despite the fact that I was right, it was cold comfort. An hour later there were no clear reports coming in. The clones were good. All the trackers were in motion. If one stopped moving, and the others kept going, that would mean the others were electronic fakes.
That didn't happen. Neither did any of the trackers stop moving. Of course. I'd been thinking he'd left hers on her. As a taunt. But he hadn't. The original was out of her, and out in the world - useless.
"Get me Beam." I forced myself to ease up the death grip I had on the phone.
"I've heard," came Beam's voice. Police detective in Manhattan. "What do you want us to do?"
"There'll be texts and emails coming to you. Proprietary signals. Track it. Find it."
"If it's a clone? Why?" Beam was a hard-driving woman, dedicated to her family and in over her head just a couple times on playing the horses.
Amazing in bed, too. One of those few vanilla times that totally didn't suck.
Or totally did suck. Depending on how one looked at it.
She'd bribe her way on her knees to find information for me if she had to, knowing without a trace of doubt if anything came of that, I'd make it go away.
Nothing would come of it, no matter how she got her information. "I'll round up everyone I can."
I disconnected. Called a man in Vegas, just miles from where I stood.
"Derrick." His voice was always short and choppy. This time it was shorter. More cut off.
Like maybe he knew I'd be calling. Because Vegas is a smaller town than people give it credit for. So he could have heard already.
Or he could have had something to do with it.
It would be worth keeping an eye on him. Jason could do that. Get himself back in good graces. Because I'd sacrifice the son of a bitch if that's what it took to get somebody bringing Annie back. When Kie had hurt Annie, instead of moving to protect her, Jason had laughed. I knew Annie hated him. Of all the men in my employ, he was the one who looked at her body when she was humiliated in front of them. I didn't like the way he looked at her, but I liked her uncomfortable reactions so I kept him on. He was a good guard even if he was an asshole. He could do some work on this. Pay off some of the hospital bill. He'd been well cared for after being whipped for not protecting Annie.
Call after call. Setting cops and state senators and prostitutes in motion. All of them with the same orders. Get her back if you can find her. Get me all the information if you can't.
Sending out the signal from the tracker so people in every city would be waiting for that signature. Now it would be a waiting game.
If only I meant to sit still and wait.
My boots echoed on the polished hallway floors. I'd left the control room to send out some of the secure communications to military officials and high ranking politicians. It's amazing what the fear of having one's deviant sexual history exposed will do to people. I had assistance all over the world.
Problem was, so would Vincent.
Suddenly I was running, tearing up the corridor thinking of all the cameras everywhere in the world and knowing one of the hackers in the secure communications room would know a way into one. Once upon a time hackers had broken into Department of Transportation computers and used them to light up those big orange and black roadway signs so they read ZOMBIES ON ROADWAY – RUN! It was pure lighthearted silliness but they were still arrested and charged. Apparently only the Dept of Transportation with its annual holiday warnings – ONLY SANTA'S REINDEER CAN FLY – YOU CAN'T – WATCH YOUR SPEED – can put out playful fantasy messages.
But cameras and warnings were everywhere. I could put out amber alerts or something close to them since Annie wasn't a child.
I slowed for a second. No, she wasn't, and probably she didn't have a lot of time left before she at least looked in her twenties rather than a cute seventeen, but for now she looked young enough I could tap into that system and put that out there.
Probably wouldn't help. Those clone trackers were reporting in from everywhere in about the time it would have taken Vincent to get the tracker out of her and send them on their way.
That made my fists tighten and my breathing come rough and angry - The idea of him touching her intimately enough to remove the tracker.