Forgiving Paris: A Novel(12)

Jack understood. The girl’s options were limited. Allow other girls to be killed by her father, spend a chunk of time behind bars… or cooperate with the FBI.

“Provided she agrees to work with you, she’s our insider.” Oliver turned to Jack. “Minutes before the raid, she’ll have to round up the girls and help them leave the compound safely. Because of the scope of the operation, we will have the Army and Navy working with us that night. We’ll go over everything later today and tomor row. At the completion of the raid, you and the other agents, and all seventeen girls, will be brought back here to San Antonio.”

A few questions remained. “Who are the informants on the ground?” Jack looked from Matthew to TJ and finally to Oliver. “How trustworthy are they?”

Matthew lowered his voice, as if this part were more sensitive than the rest. “Belize City has a new chief of police. Manny Averes. He’s been working with us for three months now, one of the good guys for sure. A few of his team are on the take from the Blue Breeze Yacht Club, and Chief Averes knows it. He plays along and because of that he has good information.”

“We trust him.” Oliver gave a firm nod. “And of course we have two operatives from the San Salvador office who have been monitoring the situation in Belize for several months. Even still, we don’t know the layout of the Palace, where the armed guards sit and how best to rescue the girls without incident.” He paused. “We think Eliza can help us with that, too.”

Eliza Ann Lawrence. Jack added the girl’s name to his notes. “How close is Eliza with her father? If she’s helping him with his operation, why should we put faith in her?”

“That’s the risk.” TJ returned to his seat and looked to Jack. “You’ll have to think fast, Ryder. Read the girl. If she’s working with her dad, she might lie to you. Trick you. It’ll take all your instincts on this one.”

“Be very aware, Jack.” Pendergast stood and sauntered to the spot near Oliver. “Watch her hands and fingers. Her expression. Look for subtle cracks that indicate whether what she’s telling you might be a lie.”

“And be careful, man.” TJ looked concerned. “Be so careful.”

“The agents are right.” Oliver set his folder down on the podium at the front of the room. “Eliza is either a victim or a mastermind, Jack. You’ll have to figure that out.”

Victim or not, Jack was suspicious of any girl who would help lure children into the Palace. Especially after she, herself, had seen the heartbreak and brokenness of the girls being trafficked by her father.

“Got it.” Jack took the papers on his desk and looked them over. “When do we start with the details?”

“Ten minutes from now. In the computer lab down the hall. Every moment counts at this point.” Oliver picked up a satchel from the podium and handed it to Jack. “Here’s your flight itinerary, identification papers, Belizean money, falsified bank routing information, addresses, a cell phone, and the contact information you’ll need for the Blue Breeze Yacht Club.”

Oliver looked at TJ and Pen. “The two of you will lead the raid.”

“Yes, sir.” TJ collected his things.

Matthew did the same. “We’ll be ready.”

Jack felt the weight of the satchel in his hands. Just a few days to memorize his newest identity. This was standard. Jack was a quick study. It was one reason he was top of the list of agents sent out on TOC secret missions. Oliver once said Jack assumed identities as if he didn’t have one of his own.

The man didn’t know how true the statement was.

When the other agents were out of the room, Oliver looked at Jack. “Belize.”

The word hung in the air like the blade of a guillotine. Jack broke the silence. “It’s not a problem.”

Oliver knew the history, knew everything about Jack. It was why he had chosen Jack as an agent in the first place. Straight out of Navy SEAL training.

“You’re my top pick. But be honest, Jack. I can have another agent on this in a minute.” He sounded like Jack’s father now. “I need to know.”

“I’m fine.” Jack nodded. “It’s just another beach. Another operation.” Tears stung his eyes but only for a few seconds. “I want the mission.”

“Okay.” Oliver looked satisfied. “See you in ten.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack pushed thoughts of Belize from his mind. He grabbed the satchel and headed down the hall.

After learning and relearning hundreds of details that would make up the Belizean operation, Jack finally left the building. By six o’clock he was back at his Magnolia Heights apartment on Broadway near San Antonio’s famous River Walk. The bureau moved Jack around the city every six months or so, in case a criminal from a previous case figured out where he lived.

A few years ago an undercover agent was killed in New York City by a guy dressed as a doorman. He couldn’t be too careful.

Jack liked this particular apartment. He had a balcony overlooking the stream of people strolling along the famous stretch of shops and restaurants. Jack was one guy in one apartment on a street of apartment buildings. The place made him feel invisible.

Exactly how he liked it.

He took the satchel to the balcony and sat at the round metal table. Inside the package, on top of the pile, was his identification. Henry Thomas Ellington IV. A name Anders McMillan would trust.