White Death (21 page)

After a pause, Wainwright turned and said, “Jake, he says you
can talk to Karen now.”

I snatched the phone from him, “Karen, have they hurt you? …
Polite?
Okay, that’s good. Follow his instructions until we can rescue you. Where are you?”

Sterling’s voice returned, but the sound quality from the conference call was poor. “Now, you know we can’t let her tell you that, Jake. I’ll call tomorrow afternoon with more specifics on the trade. Goodbye.”

Jamie and Wainwright each had an ear on either side of me.
A trade?
For what?

“Sterling escaped the net; he got a lucky break Monday night because of the interoperability problem,” said Jamie. “So, instead of running to his millions, he orders a No Name to kill the troopers and heads back to Miami. It must be a trade for both him and Tyrone, free passage to George Town.”

“I’ll tell you what else he wants,” I added. “For security reasons, I convinced him to make all of his accounts in George Town numbered. He can’t walk in and show his driver’s license or passport. He needs those codes. The only places they could be are his office, the two safe houses, or a bank safe deposit box.”

“Sir,” began Jamie. “There are two things that would really help us out. One is a flyer to area banks regarding the safe deposit box. Second, we need the locations of those two safe houses, and a search warrant for each. If we can break Sterling’s secretary, then she is the one person who can give us the information. She was fully cognizant of and participated in his criminal enterprises. We need to arrest her on an intimidating list of charges, state and federal, and promise her the moon for cooperation. The U.S. Attorney would never blink later at our false promises. If you happen to have a judge in your back pocket…”

Wainwright stiffened visibly at this comment.

Treading more carefully, Jamie continued, “…that is to say, on good terms with, agents could put together an interrogation team
with the primary purpose of getting those addresses. A secondary purpose would be to fill in the gaps on Sterling’s crimes, especially if another reason exists for him to take the gamble of returning here.

“Also, the search warrant for Sterling’s office is on track. I was planning to call when you arrived. Do we know anything regarding the car or van they are currently using?”

“No, but I’m dedicating four additional agents to this case. I’ll tell them to contact all rental companies along the likely route between North Carolina and here. In addition, I’ll ask them to coordinate with police agencies for reported stolen cars from the same area and to the south. One more task for tonight: If they don’t stop, it’s twenty-four hours of hard driving to Miami. The warrants should be ready by morning, and I will walk them personally over to a friendly judge. Finally, I’ll negotiate with or threaten the phone company to obtain information regarding Sterling’s mobile phone.”

As he got up to leave, both of us thanked him, and he gave us his direct line.

I sank down in the sofa. Everything seemed so unreal. Jamie sat down next to me and hugged me tight.

“You’re going to hug Karen soon.”

I hardly reacted to her encouragement. “She’s only a pawn to him – dead the moment Sterling believes she’s no longer useful.

“James, you talked to her, and she was fine. You know SAC Wainwright and the state police will take every necessary measure to ensure her safe return. She is a policeman’s wife. This is not another routine kidnapping case.”

“Thanks. Let’s get some sleep. I can’t deal with tomorrow right now.” I went to my room, but sleep did not come. Sure, Karen was fine during my conversation with her. But what came next? Anything might happen.

Miami, Wednesday morning

Jamie and I were drinking coffee after an early breakfast when the secure phone rang.

“The secretary has been picked up? Great! Yes, we’d like to go with the team to the realty office. We can be outside in forty-five minutes. Thank you, sir.”

Jamie turned to me. “He said they are already interrogating the secretary, threatening her with a list of real and bogus charges good for about one-hundred-and-fifty years. He expects her to fold quickly.”

“Jamie, one No Name is dead, another is with Marcus, a third is probably in a safe house, but I haven’t seen Number Three for a while. We need to make sure Wainwright understands how lethal these goons are. He got a taste of their methods when the troopers were shot about twenty times.”

Jamie and I, plus four other agents, assembled on a side street near Ex-Pat Realty to go over entry and clearing plans. I glanced over at one of two agents carrying AR-15s with thirty-round, box magazines.

“The SAC warned us about the No Names,” he said. I nodded in reply.

We burst into the front door as a team yelling “FBI,” and ordered everybody onto the floor. I saw Number Three in the corner, partly shielded by the opening door. My weapon was out, but he already had his in hand. We traded shots, both missing. The agent behind me fired an eight-or nine-round burst, ending the career of one more professional killer. After confiscating a few weapons, the agents cuffed several persons working in the real estate office and set about filling paralegal boxes with potential evidence.

Personally, the question of who was a legitimate realtor and who was part of the criminal enterprise could be sorted out later. I understood, however, FBI agents are investigators trained to
build solid cases for prosecution. My goal at this point was much narrower: We needed the two addresses.

Three agents began their work of cuffing and frisking employees. Jamie and I, along with the agent who brought tools, headed straight to Sterling’s office. We pried open everything that was locked while another carried in empty boxes to help collect anything useful. We trashed Sterling’s office to no avail. Neither the addresses nor the bank account numbers was here. I had put them in a special file for him, which was gone.

Sterling’s private line rang. I looked at Jamie, and she pointed at me like the ringing phone could hear us if we talked.

“Yes,” I said into the phone.

“Jake? It’s Floyd Wainwright. How did the raid go?”

“One dead, No Name, but no other injuries. The addresses aren’t here.”

“No problem. The secretary broke, and we have them.”

“Yes!”
I shouted, pointing to Jamie with a thumb up.

“By the way, Sterling called me and wants free passage to George Town for him and his pal Tyrone, in exchange for Karen. I told him everything is negotiable. Give me a number to ring you later. He laughed, and said he would call back soon and expected a favorable answer.

“Ultimately, the approach we use is up to me. I’m open to ideas from you two as how to handle this.”

“We had an idea. As a demonstration of good faith, we actually send Tyrone to George Town. At the same time, we request the Justice Department to send Interpol a ‘red notice’
²⁷
which authorizes his arrest later. Without the account codes, Tyrone will not attempt to run until Sterling arrives. Sterling, in turn, releases Karen, and we give him a ride to the nearest jail.”

“We can try that as an opening gambit, but I don’t think he will agree to release Karen, even if Tyrone calls him from George Town. The new offer buys us time, however, and I’ll see how he reacts.”

Miami, Wednesday afternoon

“Try this on for size, Jamie. I know Marcus better than anyone. He has a thin veneer of polish and culture, but he is very self-centered, and only one cut above the No Names he employs. He needs the brainpower and organizational skills of Tyrone to get back in the business again. This is not about loyalty; accordingly he will reject the proposal because of a lack of ironclad guarantees. I doubt he would tell us where Karen is, even if he and Tyrone were in a bar together in George Town knocking back a few. She is not part of his plan. Once he believes she’s irrelevant to his escape, she is dead. I fear we are rapidly approaching that point.

“Moreover, I presume he’s in the house near the Opa Locka airport with a No Name; and Karen is in the West Miami house with the other surviving No Name. The Fixed Base Operator of Opa Locka is a crook with a long history of doing favors for Sterling. He could put Sterling in a private jet, and he’d be over international waters in minutes.

“I propose we split up. You and two heavily-armed agents free Karen, and I’ll leave with two agents to arrest Marcus, and make certain Karen is not there. The Florida Department of Law Enforcement should tighten the perimeter around both houses in case things go south.”

Jamie gave me an enquiring look. Avoiding her gaze I continued, “Karen might be with him after all, and my plan is based on assumptions. If she is not in either safe house, I’m more likely than strangers to get Sterling to tell me where she is. At this point I would persuade him that cooperating and freeing Karen
offer the best chance of avoiding the electric chair.” Jamie nodded her head; the last item seemed to resonate with her.

SAC Wainwright called to say Sterling had rejected the proposal, saying it had no safeguards for him. Wainwright proposed he bring Karen with him to the airport and release her on the steps to the plane. Sterling asked how many FBI snipers he planned to deploy on the adjacent rooftop. He also advised Wainwright that time was running out.

I laid out the plan to Wainwright as I had with Jamie, and suggested we implement it tonight, given the implied threat by Sterling. I added that Sterling might be wondering whether we had located the houses through land records, or by some other means. If he feels cornered, I warned, Karen is dead, and he is on a plane at Opa Locka. A long silence passed.

“Normally, we would go in with such a large show of force that surrender is the only option. Why do you want just two agents at each house?” asked Wainwright.

“Each house, I believe, uses a No Name to protect the primary occupant. These killers will not surrender. From the shell casings found near the dead trooper we can expect a firefight with automatic weapons. Forgive my directness, with more cops or agents being shot at from the house, the more return fire it will receive. It’s human nature to hold down the trigger during a gunfight. With all that lead flying, we still have no idea where Karen is within the house.”

“I agree in principle to your main point. We could bring night-vision equipment if necessary with a smaller, simultaneous entrance to the front and back.”

“That sounds good,” I said. He was clearly mulling over the size of the teams.

“I insist on a team of three at each entrance, and each house has two entrances. Don’t forget you are still a federal agent. Are you ready for this?”

“Is there a choice?”

“Yes. We can handle this.”

“No. I know and get along well with Marcus. Despite his anger at my betrayal, I need to negotiate with him in private if Karen isn’t at either house. He may disclose her location to me after he realizes how hopeless his situation has become. Can I say the death penalty is off the table if he releases Karen?”

“Sure,” said the SAC. “It’s not off the table, but what you tell him has no legal relevance.”

“Can we hit West Miami a few minutes before Opa Locka?”

“Okay. We have the phone numbers. Call the Opa Locka house and me with a report after securing West Miami. I’ll coordinate with the police. You and Jamie meet me in my office in one hour.”

Miami, Wednesday night

SAC Wainwright had blown-up plans on the walls with the entrances circled. Jamie, ten additional agents, plus myself, were present for the planning. A judge had approved “no knock” arrest warrants, given the kidnapping and danger posed by the fugitives. The first priority was to arrest, disable, or kill any No Names, followed by other armed collaborators who may be present. If Karen was not at the second house, I was to question Marcus. Failure to find Karen would land Sterling in front of a special interrogation team. The SAC planned to grant Sterling’s entreaties for a lawyer – after he disclosed her location. Suppression of evidence for kidnapping was not a major concern.

Wainwright had set midnight for West Miami and 12:15 a.m. for Opa Locka. Each team began its approach to the entrances about ten minutes before the raid, taking advantage of trees and darkness wherever possible.

At 12:15 a.m., I, and the other agents, were in place. I looked at my watch; we exchanged nods and kicked in the door. No Name One was dozing on a chair with an AK-47 lying on a table in front
of him. As he went for the AK, an agent cut him down with a short burst from an AR-15. Sterling was reading and jumped out of his chair. We motioned for him to sit down with his hands up.

“Any others in the house,” demanded the agent.

His head moved from side to side in slow comprehension of his circumstances.

“Frisk him,” said the lead agent. “We’ll search the rest of the dwelling.”

Of course, Sterling didn’t touch firearms. He had No Names to kill for him. I was waiting for the phone call. Finally it rang! I snatched the receiver so fast I knocked the base on the floor.

“Jamie, is she with you? How is she? That’s wonderful! A little shaky? I understand. Put her on.”

“Jake, I love you. I’m sore from the trip, but I’ll be all right. Jamie is taking good care of me.”

“I love you too, and don’t go away. I need to take care of a couple of things, and I’ll come down.”

Two other agents were now standing behind me. I stood up slowly and turned to look at them.

“Marcus and I share a long history together, including a few things to discuss in private. Would you fellows go outside and check the perimeter for a few more minutes?” One headed for the door; the younger one hesitated, but followed him.

“James, James. I am delighted to see you again. My best pilot and most trusted advisor is a fed. You played your role perfectly, my compliments. James, what are you doing?”

“Getting a good sight picture on your head.”

“Stop! I’ve surrendered. Besides, I saved your life. Alvaro would have tortured you to death.”

I dropped my elbow, raising the gun toward the ceiling. Sterling looked relieved and smiled.

“I’m immensely grateful for the rescue, and I will always be indebted to you…” I said as I lowered the gun and shot him between the eyes. “But, you crossed the line when you
kidnapped my wife.” I was speaking to his lifeless body.

The agents rushed in after hearing the sound of a shot.

“He went for the AK on the table while we were talking.”

Reunion

“Karen,” said Jamie. “Let me help make you pretty before Jake arrives. Give me your clothes and get in the shower. I’ll hand wash them in the sink and put them in the dryer.”

The agents had left with No Name Two in custody. How fitting, Napalm Josey would die in Florida’s electric chair.

Meanwhile, I found a trooper who could give me a red-light escort to West Miami. I told him my hot-rod Ford could keep up with him. Traffic was light at 1:00 a.m., but the trip seemed endless. My heart and mind were racing faster than the cars.

I opened the door, and Jamie was standing directly in front of me.

“Nice to see you, too,” I said. “But where’s Karen?”

“Not quite ready yet.”

“Huh?”

“I’m in charge of preparations tonight. So, sit down here.”

I got a kiss on the forehead, and she was gone. I heard what sounded like a clothes dryer. Then Jamie rounded a corner, ignored me, pulled out clothes and went back into a bathroom, then some giggling.

Karen came out, followed by Jamie, who was smiling and crying as Karen and I embraced. Then, I kissed her hard and long.

“I wasn’t sure this day would come,” I said, beholding her beauty and thinking I almost lost her. We held each other by our forearms just to touch and appreciate each other. Again, we hugged, but not so tightly. I detected a wince the first time. Jamie was standing near us with tears running down her face.

“Jamie, come here and put your arms around both of us,” said Karen.

After a few moments, the three of us began to sway a little, side to side, forward and backward until we laughed.