Aimee Thurlo - Undercover Warrior

“But I’ve only been there a few times. I’m not really familiar with it.”

“You still have the advantage over us,” Kyle said. “We’ve never been there. Let’s go.”

Chapter Four

“A word?”

Kyle recognized Preston’s icy tone and knew what was bothering him. Preston seldom missed much. Despite that, he decided to play it out. “What’s up?” he asked, stepping away from the SUV.

“Don’t give me that bull,” Preston growled. “What did you find in the box, and why the hell didn’t you turn it over? NCIS has given us the job of processing evidence, and it’s not up to you to pick and choose. Are we working together or not?”

“Your department’s cooperation is crucial, but I have to treat what I found as classified for reasons of national security. You in?”

Preston nodded.

Putting his latex gloves back on, Kyle pulled the small device he’d found inside the box out of his pocket. “I really doubt there’ll be any usable prints on this, except maybe Leland’s partial, but based on the markings this is an electrical detonator manufactured in Spain. You can’t get hold of something this sensitive in the U.S. without shoveling through a truckload of grief, and maybe not even then.”

“So that’s why you want to search Leland’s place ASAP. You think he shipped detonators hidden in those dismantled electronics and overlooked this one.”

“So now we need to find the rest of them,” Kyle said.

“How long have you had Hank Leland under surveillance?”

“Since he was spotted in Rota, Spain, meeting with a man on the watch list, a freelance bomb maker with ties to Spanish ecoterrorist groups. That was two weeks ago. I watched him land at the airport last night, get his luggage and pick up his Silverado. After that I followed him to his office. He stayed here for a while, which I suppose is when he unpacked the box, took the tools apart, and found the detonators.”

“Where’d he go next?”

“He got into his pickup and headed home, which is ten miles south, off highway 281. He took the old road so I had to give him plenty of room. It was pretty much deserted that time of night, and his house is all by itself out there.”

Preston nodded. “I know. I checked. You can spot vehicles for miles.”

“Once he got home, he pulled into the garage and never left again. No other vehicles drove up, either. I maintained surveillance until 3:30 a.m., then drove back into town and checked into the Chamisa Lodge. After catching a few hours’ sleep, I returned to his place at 6:00 a.m. There were lights on inside—still no other vehicles—and there was only one set of tracks leading into the property. Leland left for work at seven, and was still there when I went to meet you for breakfast.”

“So, let’s assume these terrorists are looking for their detonators. What’s their target?”

“I don’t know and that’s a problem,” Kyle said.

“Let’s go to Leland’s house and look around for his cell. We need to find out who he called after his return,” Preston said. “I’ll also get hold of Joe Pacheco. He’s a former police detective, and keeping his eyes and ears open is second nature to him.”

“Don’t ask him about the detonators directly,” Kyle warned.

Preston got the number from Erin and dialed as Kyle walked over to where she was waiting.

“We’re still working out a few details,” Kyle told her. “We’ll leave in a minute.”

After his call, Preston motioned Kyle over. “I asked Joe about the type of explosives used by Secure Construction. He said they use a proprietary mix of ammonium nitrate, but they pick it up from Zia Limited as needed. He also said that they use fuses and blasting caps instead of electrical detonators.”

“All right, let’s get rolling,” Kyle said, started to walk away, then stopped and looked back. “Anything on either of the dead kidnappers?”

“Nothing yet. The Office of the Medical Investigator processed their fingerprints, but there’s nothing on record—they’re ghosts. We’re using facial recognition software and running that through the database, and checking with Interpol, but it’ll take time. I have a feeling they’re foreign nationals—Spanish, most likely, for obvious reasons. The truck they used for the hit on the ambulance was stolen and they avoided cameras at that intersection. One more thing. The one who shot himself...those bruises on his face predated his death by at least a week. That’s based on the medical investigator’s preliminary report.”

“Get Daniel up to speed on this. He’s got clearance,” Kyle said.

Daniel Hawk, their foster brother, owned the largest security firm in the Four Corners. Level One Security protected more than half the high profile businesses and state government installations in Northern New Mexico.

“Once we identify the terrorist group we’re dealing with, Daniel may be able to suggest possible targets in this area—facilities or personnel,” Kyle said.

“Good plan.”

“I’ll take Erin over to Leland’s house. Let’s see if on the way there, I can get her to tell me something we don’t already know.”

* * *

THOUGH KYLE’S GAZE was on the road ahead, he was aware of everything about the woman beside him. Erin intrigued him. She accepted her own vulnerabilities instead of trying to conceal her fears, and held it together when it mattered.

Hearing the incoming-call tone, Kyle glanced at the phone display and saw Preston’s name. He connected the call and said, “I’m here.”

“I just got a report from the officer watching Leland’s residence. Someone drove up and slipped inside through the back. I told the officer to wait for backup unless the suspect gets back into his vehicle and tries to leave.”

Kyle pressed down on the accelerator. “Back up your officer and cover the rear. I’ll take the front and block the driveway.”

After he ended the call, he glanced over at her. “When we get there, stay inside the SUV and duck down. This thing is built like one of your safe rooms, and no one can get in once it’s locked.”

“IRS, huh? I don’t think so,” she muttered. “Who are you, really?”

“Your best friend while this investigation is ongoing.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You saw my badge and you know the Hartley P.D. trusts me. That’s all you need.” He made a hard left that had her groping for the armrest.

“How long have you lived in this area?” he asked Erin as they were forced to slow down almost to a crawl. Up ahead, several steers had wandered up to the shoulder and were eating tall grass fed by runoff. Two ranchers were busy trying to get the animals back through an open gate into a pasture.

“Practically all my life,” Erin answered. “There’s plenty of work, with all the oil and gas companies. I earn a decent salary, so with luck, in a few years I’ll have the stake I need.”

“To do what?” He moved to the right shoulder, eased past the men and the cattle, then was able to pick up speed again.

She sat back in her seat, adjusting to the sudden acceleration.

“I’m going to buy some decent farmland and grow chiles,” she said. “I’ve got a green thumb, and love getting my hands dirty and working with the soil. Farming...that’s my dream. One day it’ll be more than that—it’ll be a fact.”

There’d been no wavering and, for a moment or two, she’d reminded him of himself. He’d worked hard to get to where he was. Nothing had ever come easy, but he’d stuck to his dream and achieved what he’d set out to do. He had a feeling she would, too.

“Hang on!” Kyle made a sharp turn to the right off the highway, through an open gate and down a gravel lane.