Velocity (Karen Vail #3)(97)

Vail pushed past Dixon and headed downstairs, back into the living room, where Mann was sifting through items in a desk drawer and DeSantos was on his cell phone.

DeSantos covered the handset microphone with a couple of fingers. “I’ve got someone putting together a dossier on Cortez for us. NSA and CIA contacts, I’ve got them searching for any known cartel hideouts, family members, business associates . . . ” He watched her lift the framed photos, examining each one carefully. “Karen? What is it?”

Vail pulled her BlackBerry. She scanned through the call history. Shit. Not here. Dialed information. “I need the phone number for the Microsoft corporate campus.”

Dixon said, “What do you see?”

Vail handed her the framed photo. “Get the picture out of here. And keep your fingers off the surface.”

Dixon took it and flipped it over, then dug a fingernail into the brown paper backing.

“Yes,” Vail said, “please connect me.” She waited a moment while the phone rang, then said, “This is Karen Vail with the FBI. I need to talk with someone in the Office division; we’ve worked with a guy who handled security stuff.” She turned to Dixon. “The guy Eddie knew, the one who helped identify Mayfield—”

“Tómas,” Dixon said.

“His name’s Tómas,” Vail said into the phone.

“You think they can help us with this photo?” Dixon asked.

“Worth a shot.”

“No—no,” Vail said into the phone. “I can’t wait. Is there anyone else on his team I can talk with? I’ve got a picture of some violent criminals and I need to see if someone can tell me where it was taken. And I don’t have a lot of time.” She listened, then said, “Sure, that may work.” While on hold, Vail called Mann over.

“What’s up?”

Vail rotated the handset away from her mouth. “Those Mayfield photos you sent over to Microsoft. How did Tómas figure out where they were taken?”

“He said he analyzed stuff like textures, lines, vegetation, topography. Then he compared it to some database.”

Seconds later, a woman’s voice came on the line. “Athena Hu.”

Vail nodded at Mann, then turned her attention to the call. “Athena, this is Karen Vail, FBI. A few days ago we worked with a colleague of yours on a case, and I’ve got another photo here I think will give us some important clues as to where a kidnapped law enforcement officer’s being held. Your guy analyzed some photos based on textures, lines, vegetation, that sort of thing. He then compared that to some kind of database.”

“Sounds like he used the Flickr GPS-tagged database. Can you email me the photo?”

Vail took the picture from Dixon, who was holding it by the edges. “It’s not digital, but I guess I can have it scanned.”

“That’ll work. Make sure you scan it at a decent resolution.” She gave Vail the email address, and Vail gave Athena her contact info.

“As soon as you’ve got something—a man’s life depends on it.”

“Do my best.”

Vail disconnected the call, then spun around. Facing her were DeSantos and Mann.

“Can they help?” Mann asked.

“We need to get this photo to the DEA field division ASAP.” As Vail spoke, Turino walked through the door. “I assume you have a scanner at your office?”

Turino’s brow bunched. “We do. But why—”

“I’ll explain on the way over.”

On the ride back, Vail told Turino that cutting-edge digital photo analysis could determine where in the world a particular picture was taken. It was highly accurate—but a bit of a crapshoot on Vail’s part. The photo showed Cortez with two buddies mugging for the camera, Dos Equis bottles in their hands, shirts off, looking as if they were having a stellar time. But the background was what Vail was interested in. She would also send the image to the FBI for analysis of the other men in the photo in hopes that could generate other leads: known accomplices, people they could track down and interview.

They arrived at the San Diego field division, a modern three-story structure with a solitary American flag flying by its front entrance. Outside, there was no DEA sign proudly displayed, no seal or any indication that it was a building where vital government business was transacted.

Vail and the task force entered and passed through the X-ray scanner. They surrendered photo ID and were cleared to take the elevator up to the third floor. While waiting for the car to arrive, Vail noticed the sign on the wall behind the security guard: they were in the Enrique “Kiki” Camarena building.

Within minutes of entering the field division facility, Vail was in the command center, a cavernous room on the third floor replete with high-tech gadgetry: along the side walls were computer stations, while the front stage was fitted with an outsize rear projection screen, sliding white boards that rode in vertical side tracks, and a Windows PC designed to project PowerPoint presentations and pictures to those in attendance.

Vail set the photo down on the scanner and watched the bright white light pass beneath its surface, turning analog colored ink and paper to digital ones and zeroes. A moment later, the jpeg image was on its way to Athena Hu at Microsoft.

And then Vail was pacing the hall, like a 1950s expectant father waiting for word of his child’s birth.