Deadly Games - Cate Noble [78]
The men had also been bodyguards. There had been two threats on Travis’s life in the past year. The first had come right after he’d received word that Dante Johnson hadn’t died. The second had followed the recovery of Max Duncan.
Both threats had been traced to an Indonesian associate of the late Viktor Zadovsky. An associate who had also committed suicide. A lot of that going around.
Zadovsky had been the common thread. The Agency knew Zadovsky had visited Dante’s and Max’s secret prisons in Thailand, so it was reasonable he’d visited Harry Gambrel’s, too. But where?
Tracking Zadovsky’s previous movements had been impossible since the Indonesian and Thai governments had ransacked and seized Zadovsky’s files.
Unfortunately, there were very few of Zadovsky’s known associates left. Rufin was one, but he claimed to have worked with and known about only Max. Zadovsky’s secretary, Bohdana, who had initially lured Rufin out of hiding, was dead now, too, murdered by a man who’d subsequently kidnapped Rufin.
The composite drawing of Rufin’s kidnapper matched the description of the mysterious Mr. Peabody, the middleman who worked deals between Zadovsky and his customers, including Minh Tran. Mr. Peabody’s failure to deliver a shipment of SugarCane had landed him on Minh Tran’s hit list.
Travis’s gut screamed that Peabody was the key to unlocking the puzzle. The problem was finding him.
A knock on the door interrupted Travis’s thoughts. “It’s open,” he called out.
Derek, a forensics lab analyst, rushed in. “You aren’t going to believe this.” He set a file in front of Travis. “You know the trash samples you gave me this morning?”
“You’ve got something already?”
“Fingerprint match.” Derek pointed to a report in the file.
Travis read the last line. MATCH FOUND: HARRY EPHRAIM GAMBREL. “Are you positive?”
“Absolutely.” Derek flipped to a page with multiple black-and-white fingerprints. “I got three partials and one full thumb.”
Travis stared at the identical thumbprints. It was proof. Harry was alive. And he’d been held in that same warehouse as Dr. Rufin, most likely by Mr. Peabody. Finally a lead!
“What have you got on other prints?” Travis was hoping to learn Mr. Peabody’s true identity.
Derek shook his head. “There were only two subjects’ prints. This one and the John Doe set you gave me for elimination.”
Travis had supplied Derek with an anonymous set of Dr. Rufin’s prints. Rufin’s prints weren’t in any known databases but had been expected to be found in Luc’s trash exhibit. The fact that Mr. Peabody’s prints weren’t found likely meant he’d worn gloves.
“Any chance of retrieving DNA?” Travis asked.
“Those samples will take twenty-four hours minimum to process.”
“See what you can do to rush it. Good work!”
“Thanks. I’ll get on the other.” Derek grabbed his file just as Travis’s cell phone started to ring.
Travis grabbed it, recognizing the distinct ring tone he’d assigned to Luc Skihawtra.
“Franks here.”
“It’s me,” Luc said. “And I know where Minh Tran’s helicopter went.”
Chapter Thirty
East Central Mexico
October 5, 10:25 P.M.
The plane was a total loss.
In the eerie glow of the fire, Rocco found the pilot’s body. He’d been thrown only a few yards from the wreckage.
“He’s dead. Broken neck,” Rocco said.
“The whole back is gone!” Clay motioned to the plane. “If we hadn’t fallen out, we’d be dead, too.”
“I don’t see any sign of my wife,” Rocco said. “That means she’s out there.”
“Hold up.” Clay tried to approach the wreckage, but the heat was still too intense. “I don’t think any of the emergency equipment survived. Hopefully, the tracking beacon is working. The pilot was radioing an SOS as we went down.”
“Let’s hope he broadcast GPS coordinates as well.” Rocco looked around at the site. “Tracking beacons on these small planes have a higher failure rate.”
“Any chance your cell phone survived?” Clay asked.