Squatting down on the crest of the knoll to minimize his profile against the vast Midwestern skyline, Roman studied the long low structure that was nestled in the valley below. Positioned in a low-lying area outside Salem, the abandoned fruit plant was not visible from any of the nearby roads and highways, a fact that obviously made it attractive as a hideout, and he had to hand it to Vaughn for finding it.
As he analyzed the scene below, he detected no movement. The building appeared deserted, with no sign of either humans or vehicles, and in fact looked like no one had been there for years. The tall grasses and overgrown brush waved mildly in the slight breeze, and even from the distance, he could see clumps of stubborn grass growing in the cracks of the sidewalks and parking areas.
"Anyone see any sign of movement?" he asked, speaking into the handy-talkie. "Any vehicles visible in your positions?"
"Negative," Bo responded from his position on Roman's right, where he had a view of the building's east end.
"Negative here, too," Abe Carver said. "The place looks completely deserted. Are you sure this is the right place?"
Roman sighed, unwilling to admit that he was starting to wonder as well if Kim had incorrectly interpreted Adrienne's clue. But there was no other place in or around Salem that matched.
"Well, I don't think they're going to be advertising their presence," he replied. "These guys are I.S.A., or they used to be, so they're going to be very good at keeping themselves hidden. The victim indicated through clues that this is the right place, so we must proceed on the assumption that she is in there." He lifted his binoculars for a closer view of the entrances. "I'm seeing only two doors on the south side of the building. One is a garage-style door, the other a pedestrian door beside it. Both are closed, but there is no indication of any padlocks or deadbolts."
"There's a group of loading docks on the east side," Bo said from his position. "Four of them. No one's going in or out there, though; not without bolt cutters. I can see the locks from here on the doors."
"There's a single garage-style door on the north side," Abe said. "Probably directly opposite the one you're seeing, Roman. It has a padlock on it. There is no pedestrian door back here."
"No exits at all over here on the west side," Shane reported. "Leave it to me to get the boring side."
"Okay, if they're in there, it looks like they're using these two doors," Roman said. "Since there is no lock on the garage door, I'm guessing they're keeping their vehicles inside to avoid attracting attention to themselves if anyone happened by. Can anyone see any windows low enough to the ground to be utilized?"
"Negative," Abe replied. "All the windows back here are very high, near the ceiling. Most are broken, probably by rock-throwing kids with nothing better to do with their time than vandalism."
"Yeah, same here," Roman agreed, then his eyes fell on the four men who were concealed in the tall brush near the large crumbling asphalt slab that had once been the parking lot for the plant's employees. Wearing Kevlar vests, protective helmets, and carrying rifles, they had been selected to enter the building first to neutralize the situation. The leader wore a headset inside his helmet to communicate with command. "Looks like everyone is going in the front door, gentlemen. Kenny, I want everyone inside fast to catch them off guard. We cannot give them time to recover from the surprise. Remember, they're holding a woman hostage. We don't want to give them any time to grab her to use as a shield. Her safety is paramount."
"Understood," came the response from the SWAT leader.
"Remember, we need these guys alive, so if they resist, shoot to disarm or wound only. Do not shoot to kill unless absolutely necessary to protect yourselves or the woman. I repeat: do not shoot to kill."
"Understood," came Kenny's immediate response. "We shoot to disarm and immobilize."
"On my mark, go to the pedestrian door and prepare to enter. Do not attempt the garage door. The time needed to raise it cannot be spared." Still watching through the binoculars, looking for anything that might be a danger to his team, he added, "Mark."
Bent at the waist, the four SWAT members left the cover of the brush and hurried quietly to the pedestrian door, pressing close against it. One of them carried a batterer in the event that the door was locked.
The SWAT leader gave a hand signal to Roman that they were in position and ready.
"At your discretion," Roman directed.
The SWAT leader counted down from five to one with his fingers, then one of them slowly and carefully turned the doorknob. It was unlocked, so they pulled it open and burst through it so abruptly that Adrienne nearly leaped over the back of the sofa on which she was seated.
Drawn by the sudden movement, one of the officers turned his rifle briefly in her direction, met her wide terrified eyes, then swung away from her, settling on Carlton, who had already recognized the futility of resisting, and had thrust his hands into the air in surrender. The cup of coffee he had been holding was lying on the floor at his feet, spilling its contents in a black puddle on the hard cement.
A second officer was covering Jennings, who responded as Carlton had by thrusting his empty hands in the air, but his eyes darted back and forth, as if seeking an avenue of escape that did not exist.
The other two officers were inspecting the rest of the warehouse through the sights on their rifles, looking for other perpetrators. One of them investigated the rental car that was parked near the garage door.
"There's another one in the bathroom!" Adrienne said, pointing. "He has a gun."
The response was immediate. The two officers who had been conducting the visual search rushed toward the bathroom door, stopping about ten paces back, but taking positions about 15 feet from each other, their weapons fixed on the closed wooden door.
"You, in the bathroom. If you have a weapon, I want you to toss it out first, then I want you to come out with your hands on your head."
After a long moment of silence, during which the man in the lavatory seemed indecisive, the officer said, "We have the door well covered, and you have no hope of escaping. Do not make us come in there after you."
After another brief pause, the door cracked open and a pistol was tossed out. It clattered and slid on the concrete before coming to a stop at the officer's feet. He placed his foot on it, his attention directed totally on the bathroom door.
"Open the door and come out with your hands on your head," he repeated.
The door opened as directed, and the man stepped cautiously out, his hands laced together on top of his head.
With one man covering each of the three criminals, the man who seemed to be in charge of the SWAT unit, with the name tag "Kenny Stroud" on his uniform, raised the barrel of his rifle toward the ceiling and approached Adrienne. "Are you all right, ma'am?"
"Yes. I'm sure glad to see you guys!" Adrienne replied, her voice trembling slightly from the excitement and shock of the raid.
The officer spoke into the microphone on his shoulder. "The area is secure. No shots fired. We have three in custody, and the hostage is safe."
"Good job," Roman praised as he and the command unit made their way down the hill toward the warehouse.
When he, Bo, and Abe entered the building, they found the officers putting the handcuffs on the three criminals, but to Roman's consternation, former Agent Vaughn was not among them.
"Where's Vaughn?" Roman asked, his eyes going from one to the other of the three men who were lined up against the wall.
Two of the men glared defiantly, but the one on the far right of the group lowered his gaze to the floor, as if ashamed. For the moment, no one seemed willing to speak.
"Read them their rights," Roman said to Abe, who began to recite the Miranda Warning. Roman walked over to Adrienne, who was standing beside the sofa, and he immediately noticed the chain the tethered her to the support post. "Are you all right?" he asked.
She nodded. "A little shaken, but I'm all right."
"Who has the key to the shackle?"
"Vaughn, I think. He left about a half hour ago, but he didn't say where he was going or when he would be back."
"Okay. We'll get some tools in here to get those off."
"Thank you.
"We notified Justin and your mother," Bo said. "They're on their way to Salem as we speak. Should be here in a few hours."
"Where's Steve?"
"He's at a safe house. I'll drive you over their as soon as you're free."
Emotion rose again, tightening in her throat. "I was afraid that when you caught these guys, you'd tell me that it was all a hoax to trap them, that Steve wasn't alive after all."
Bo smiled. "I'm happy to say that he's definitely alive and chomping at the bit to get out of that house."
A laugh managed to break through the choking emotion that had threatened her with tears. "That sounds like Steve."
Bo gazed at her a moment with admiration in his eyes. "You did good, Adrienne. That was a good clue you gave us."
"I'm just lucky they took me someplace I was somewhat familiar with."
Roman turned to observe the three criminals. "Do you know who any of those guys are?"
She shook her head. "No. I do know that Vaughn assigned a couple of them to guard me in shifts. The other one is a sharpshooter, I think."
"Steve told me there was a sharpshooter by the name of Harding," Bo said. "This must be him."
Adrienne nodded. "Yes. Vaughn called him Harding."
"Which one is he?" Roman asked.
"The one on the left. The one next to him is called Jennings. The one on the right is Carlton. I don't know if these are their real names, but that's what they were calling each other."
Bo quickly jotted the names down. "No first names?"
"No, they were never that friendly with each other."
"That's fine. It's something to work with. All the names correspond with what Steve has already told us."
Roman's attention went to the rental car that was parked inside the garage door. "I'll bet that car is rented to one of them. Wait here."
Leaving them for a few minutes, he approached the car and opened the door. After slipping on a pair of latex gloves, he examined the paperwork inside the glove compartment. It was rented to Doyle Jennings, and when he looked up, his eyes met the bitter, hostile eyes of the man himself.
He shoved the paperwork back into the glove compartment and lifted the handy-talkie again. "This is Chief Brady. I need a couple of officers to go over to Champion Rental Car and see if they rented a vehicle to a man named Ogden Vaughn. He may be using an alias, so pull his picture out of the file and have the officers present it to the employees. We need to know the make, model, and color of the car he's driving. If they give you any trouble, let me know and I'll get a court order. Once the officers obtain the information, I want an APB put out on both Vaughn and the car. He's to be brought in for questioning on charges of kidnapping and breaking and entering for starters, but I'm sure I can come up with a few more charges to add to that."
"Yes sir," came the immediate response from dispatch.
Roman pushed the car door shut and removed his latex gloves. To young Jonesy, who had been present for the exhumation of the coffin and whom he knew to be quick and reliable, he said, "Bring in the forensics team to lift fingerprints and fibers from the car. I don't think we'll need it for our case against them, but I want to be thorough."
"Yes, sir."
Turning, Roman walked back across the concrete floor toward Adrienne and Bo. She was seated on the sofa, while an officer, who had located some tools, was kneeling before her, working on freeing her from the shackle that had restrained her. "About to wrap things up here?" he asked.
Bo, who had been watching, nodded. "Just about."
"Got it," said the officer as the shackle popped open. He pried it open wide enough to remove it from her ankle, then stood up.
"Thank you," Adrienne said, gratefully.
The officer smiled. "You're welcome, ma'am."
"All right," Roman said, turning to Bo. "Abe and I will finish up here. Why don't you take Adrienne out to the safe house? I'm sure she's eager to see her brother."
Her face. "Yes, I am!"
"Sure," Bo replied, then offered his hand. "Can you stand okay?"
"Yeah. The shackle wasn't that tight." Nevertheless, she accepted the hand that was offered and allowed him to assist her to her feet. To her surprise, she found that she was a bit wobbly in the aftermath of the raid, and he held her hand long enough to steady her. "Thank you. I guess I'm a little more shaken up than I realized."
"Do you want me to run you by the hospital first to be checked out?"
"No, no. I'm fine. I just want to see Steve."
Together, they walked across the smooth concrete floor, and as they walked, Adrienne turned her head to look at her former guards, who still stood in a row, handcuffed. Carlton was standing quietly, staring at the floor as if ashamed or dreading the legal process, while Jennings and Harding glared back at her, defiantly. All of them were silent, waiting to be taking to the station for questioning.
When they reached the door, Bo slowed to allow her to pass through first, then caught up with her again. She emerged into the bright Midwestern sunshine, blinking against the strength of the sun. Six or seven police cars, their lights flashing, were parked outside the door.
Just outside the door, they met Shane, who was waiting for the building to be secured by local law enforcement before entering. "Going out to see Steve?" he asked, cheerfully.
"Yes," Adrienne replied. "Thanks for everything you did to help me."
"You're welcome," he replied, then turned to Bo. "I hate to ask, but would you mind giving Kim a lift back to the pub? I left her at the safe house with Steve and Kayla, but I'm probably not going to be able to make it back out there for a while."
"Sure, be glad to."
"One more thing. Steve knows these guys better than anyone. Ask him which one might be the most likely to cooperate than the others."
"Sure thing. Thinking of getting one of them to turn against the others?"
"Seems like the best way to get the information we need."
As Bo and Adrienne proceeded across the asphalt lot, he said, "My car is parked just over the hill. We can either walk it, or have one of the officers drive us up."
"No, I'm fine," she assured him. "We can walk."
Moving in the direction he had indicated, they stepped off the asphalt parking area onto the knee-high grass, and started up the hill. It was shallow, and not difficult to climb, and to Adrienne it felt good to be moving around.
"So, how's my cousin these days?" Bo asked, amiably.
She glanced at him though eyes that were still narrowed from the unaccustomed sunlight, understanding that he was making small talk. "He's great. His law practice is doing very well."
"That's great. I don't talk to him very often, but I'm glad everything is going well."
"You said that Mama and Justin are on their way up here. Have you spoken with them yourself?"
"Yes."
"I was so upset, knowing that they were worried about me. Do they know about Steve?"
"Yes. I told Justin by phone, and he notified your mother. We both agreed that the news would be easier coming from him."
"Thank you for being so considerate. I know it hasn't been easy for her."
"Well, I'd say your ma is pretty happy right now."
"She's not the only one!" Adrienne declared.
They passed over the summit of the hill, and Adrienne saw the cars parked below. They started down, and when they reached the bottom, he led her to his car and opened the passenger door for her.
While Bo and Adrienne walked up the hill to the car, Shane removed his cell phone from his pocket. He had felt it vibrating during the raid, but had been too involved to answer it. As he looked at the caller I.D., he was not surprised to see that it was Dennis Thiessen.
With a sigh, he lifted it to his ear. "Donovan."
"Shane, I'm glad you saw fit to answer this time," Thiessen said with an annoyed clip to his voice, apparently thinking his called was being deliberately ignored. "I haven't heard anything from you since you flew out of here the other night. Am I to assume you are still in the United States?"
"I am. I was unable to answer your previous call because I had accompanied the Salem Police in a raid that captured three of the men who were holding Steve Johnson all these years, and who are tied to the theft of the I.S.A. devices."
Thiessen seemed to brighten at the announcement. "Excellent! Did you find out which one was responsible for that?" he asked, nearly breathless with anticipation.
"I haven't had a chance to interrogate them yet. We're still on the scene, in fact. Once I get their names, I'll search the Database to see if any of them are current or former agents."
"All right," Thiessen said, mildly disappointed and apparently unaware that he had not allowed sufficient time for Shane to obtain the required information. "That is some progress, at least."
"These things take some time to sort out," Shane reminded him. "Local law enforcement is in charge of the raid. I am permitted to be here as a courtesy. I'll call you back when I have more to report." Without waiting for a reply, he disconnected the call and snapped the phone closed. Although he liked Thiessen personally, the I.S.A. was starting to get on his nerves.
Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he stepped through the warehouse door for the first time and paused to view the situation, which was well under control. Cooperation always made for better relations, but now it was imperative to learn as much as possible about the perpetrators and try to find out what involvement they might have had in his actual assignment regarding the stolen equipment.
Roman's officers were already involved in the process of collecting and cataloguing evidence in the vehicle that was parked just inside the garage style door, and also the two separate areas with chairs and a ragged sofa, obviously the area where Adrienne had been held captive, judging by the chain that was still attached to a support post.
The three prisoners were lined up against the wall, guarded by officers with rifles. Their hands were bound behind their backs either with hand-cuffs or the cable ties that were now sometimes used. Vaughn was conspicuously absent from the group, and he wondered which, if any, of the prisoners in custody had been I.S.A. agents. If one was, that man might be the contact they were looking for, the one who had helped facilitate the theft.
As he observed the prisoners, one of them, a pleasant looking man who had been looking at the floor in apparent misery, seemed to sense that he was being watched. Looking up, his eyes met Shane's, and in that gaze, he had the distinct impression that the man recognized him. Shane could not say he shared any sense of familiarity with the prisoner, but clearly the man had seen him, or perhaps his picture, at some point.
The prisoner held his gaze a moment longer, then looked at the floor again, presumably wishing he was somewhere else at that moment.
"Shane," a familiar voice caught his attention, and he turned to see Roman approaching. "Here's a list of names," he said, offering a slip of paper, which Shane accepted. "They're all British, but we have no idea what connection they may or may not have with the I.S.A."
"Carlton, Doyle Jennings, and Harding," Shane read aloud. "No first names on the other two?""
"No. We got Jennings' name from the rental car, but Adrienne could only give us the last names on Carlton and Harding. They never revealed their first names, and they all refuse to talk to us."
"The names correspond to what Steve told me, but none of them are familiar. We have a lot of agents that I don't know personally."
"We're going to take them down to the station and see if any of them are willing to talk."
"I suggest you keep them separated," Shane said. "We don't want them to have a chance to fabricate a story."
"I agree."
"I saw Bo as he was leaving. I asked him to see if Steve might suggest which one might be the most likely to cooperate. With some incentive, he might be willing to turn on the others."
"Good idea. You're welcome, of course, to be in on the interrogations, if you'd like."
"Absolutely. I appreciate that. In the meantime, I'll check out these names on the I.S.A. Database, and then I'll meet you back at the station."
"Sounds good."
On the seldom used county highway that ran along the other side of the knoll on which Roman had been standing before the rescue, a beige car slowed down to view the vehicles that were parked on the shoulder, their emergency lights flashing.
A chill of apprehension rushed through him, understanding the significance of their presence.
"Damn it," Ogden Vaughn swore angrily.
Stomping on the gas pedal, he accelerated away from the area.