Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(70)

“Both of you shut up,” Brent muttered. “Your yammering is making my head hurt worse.”

Eli grabbed another cold pack, activated it, and pressed it to the back of Brent’s head. “I don’t suppose you put a tracker on your woman, did you?”

Brent slanted him a look. “What do you think?”

Eli smiled. “Excellent. Want me to contact Zane?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He pulled out his cell phone and called his tech guru. He put the call on speaker.

“How’s the head, boss?”

“Peachy. Feels like I got too close to a stun grenade except I can hear. Rowan has a tracker on her watch. It’s logged under my name.”

Keys clicked as Zane logged into the Fortress system and searched for Brent’s tracker signal. “Got it. She’s heading toward McMinnville at a fast clip.”

“Stay on that signal.”

“I did more digging into the list Heather Maxwell gave Rowan for safekeeping.”

“What did you find out?”

“Two things. One, Keith Phillips is the one who has Alexa Maxwell. I haven’t been able to uncover his location yet.”

“Looks like we’ll be finding out soon. What else?”

“The reason why Phillips is so desperate to get his hands on those records is they confirm the connection between international terrorists, the militia groups, and the Navarro cartel. The terrorists are the drug couriers, Brent. Once they’re inside the United States and deliver the drugs, they disappear into the general populace.”

“Until they surface for a terrorist attack.” Just what they didn’t need. Gun-toting terrorists acting as drug mules. President Martin needed to know. Brent suspected Fortress would take on Navarro in the near future. They couldn’t let Navarro continue to import drugs and terrorists into the country. The risk was too great. He prayed the call wouldn’t come before he’d freed Rowan and Alexa. Their safety was his priority now despite his loyalty to his country and President Martin personally.

“Z, it’s Jon. How do you know this?”

“One of Phillips’ guys has a big mouth. He’s been emailing a buddy, angling for another job in one of the other militia groups. He’s worried Phillips is drunk on his own power.”

Brent and Jon exchanged glances. Not good news. Phillips would be all the more dangerous when he realized his plans were doomed to fail. The question was, what would he do to Rowan and Alexa? Would he blame them and take his anger out on them, or turn the anger on Brent? He’d prefer to be Phillips’ target any day. He had the skills to handle the man and his organization. Rowan didn’t.

“Let’s go.” Brent slowly climbed to his feet with the assistance of his medic and Eli. “Z, find out if Phillips has fast access to a plane.”

Silence, then, “You think he’s going to run?”

“I would. He has to know we’re coming after him for taking Rowan.” Brent worried the militia leader would take Rowan and Alexa with him, putting them further out of his protection. Where would he take them? Someplace Phillips felt safe, perhaps with reinforcements. But where?

“Jon, you have your laptop?” Zane asked.

“In the SUV. Why?”

“I’ll send you the frequency for Rowan’s tracker. One of the other teams is needing help.”

“What’s going on?” Brent asked. The only team in a hot zone was St. Claire’s.

“I’ll keep digging on the plane angle, but St. Claire’s team is seeing movement in their area. They need satellite imagery.”

“Copy that. Keep me apprised of their situation. One other thing, Zane. Find a way to contact Veronica Miles. Find out if she’s aware of the Navarro cartel importing terrorists with the drugs. We need intel on the cartel itself. Its size, strength, firepower. Need the information yesterday, Z.” He ended the call. He needed to contact Martin now.

Brent walked to the SUV, needing Eli’s steadying hand once. Okay, twice. But he wasn’t admitting that out loud. Finally settled into the back of Eli’s vehicle, he eyed Jake who climbed in beside him. “I’m fine, Davenport,” he groused. No way the medic could see his head felt as though it would explode into a million pieces any minute. “I don’t need a nanny.”

“Yeah? Guess the help you needed was just brotherly love from Eli.”

He scowled at his friend, hoping Jake had missed the assist. Should have known better. Jake Davenport never missed anything. It’s why Brent paid big bucks to keep him at Fortress.

“Look, boss, I know I can’t keep you on the sidelines. However, you’re going to need help in remaining functional.”

“No drugs.” If the medic drugged him, he couldn’t function at all. Made him a card-carrying wuss, but pain meds knocked him out.

Jake rolled his eyes, reached into his mike bag, and held up athletic tape. “I can’t fix cracked ribs, but I can make you more comfortable and mobile without drugs.”

“Do it.” Brent eased up his black t-shirt and Jake went to work with the tape. “Jon?”

“I’ve got her. They’re moving past McMinnville.”

“How far behind them are we?”

“Thirty minutes,” Eli said. “If we’re pulled over, we’ll be that much further behind them. We’re loaded with enough firepower to raise eyebrows, and get us cuffed and questioned for a long time.”