Page 17 of Forced to Kill


  “Think the safe house confession was bogus?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You?”

  “Unless he’s the best actor I’ve ever seen, I’d say no, but he may not know why it’s in San Diego. Ms. Dalton might.”

  “We really need to talk to her.” He looked toward the offices.

  “Nate, I feel I need to voice something. Are we being fair to Ms. Dalton? Keeping her here like this?”

  He looked down. Maybe Harv was right. Had he lost sight of the big picture? Was catching Montez worth prolonging this woman’s suffering, even for a brief period? Her wounds were superficial compared to what Montez could’ve done. Minor, really, but if she wasn’t a hardened operations officer, this had to be a horrifying experience. Perhaps his desire to see Montez eliminated had become horse blinders. No. He knew his core motivation, and it wasn’t revenge. He wanted to get Montez, but also wanted to save Nichole Dalton’s daughters. Given their current situation, questioning Nichole was the best way—maybe the only way.

  “Thanks, Harv. I needed to hear that. I’m okay. Are you?”

  “Yeah, but Grangeland’s right. She needs medical attention, preferably a plastic surgeon. Since we can’t involve regular EMS channels, I have an idea. Do you remember that security system we installed for Doug Reavie a few years back?”

  “The plastic surgeon in Rancho Bernardo?”

  “We’re pretty good friends. I think he’ll fix her up if we offer to cover his out-of-pocket costs. For something like this, he’ll want to use his surgical suite, so we might have to shell out a few thousand bucks.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “I don’t have his phone number in my cell, but I can use information and get the number. He’ll have an answering service for emergencies. Most doctors do.”

  “Good thinking, Harv. We’ll make the call from the road. Let’s get our guests’ bleeding under control and talk to Nichole Dalton.”

  Chapter 30

  Nathan and Harv made sure to use latex gloves, as there was no telling what these mutts might have. It took several minutes and an entire roll of tape to apply pressure bandages to sofa man’s shoulder and Julio’s hip. The mercs weren’t happy about being manhandled during the procedure, but part of the game involved taking a carefree attitude toward them. Satisfied their prisoners wouldn’t immediately bleed to death, Nathan and Harv rejoined Grangeland in the office who had Nichole on O2. Red splotches seeped through the gauze in places and Nathan felt another pang of guilt. Grangeland gave him a concerned look, her thoughts obvious. He nodded for her to begin.

  “I’m sorry,” Grangeland said, “I know you’re in a lot of pain, but we need to ask you some questions.”

  Nichole Dalton removed her oxygen mask. “Please, I just want to find my girls.”

  “We’re hoping you might know something to help us. Do you know why you were kidnapped?”

  “No!” She began crying again.

  This wasn’t going to work. Nathan turned off the oxygen and the hissing stopped. He stepped forward and took a knee in front of her.

  “Ms. Dalton, my name is Nathan McBride. The man behind me is Harvey Fontana.”

  “Are you police?”

  “No, ma’am.” She started to ask another question, but he held up a hand. “We aren’t going to hold you against your will, but please hear us out first, okay?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I promise to answer all your questions, but right now, we need to know everything you can tell us about the man who kidnapped you.”

  She hesitated, her uncertainty plainly evident. “He didn’t want anything from me.”

  “Whatever you tell us doesn’t go any further, you have my word. We already know you work for the NSA as an Eastern Bloc linguist.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We’ll get to that, I promise.”

  “I don’t know anything. All I do is translate phone calls.”

  “What makes you think he didn’t want anything from you?”

  “He never asked about my job or the NSA. I thought that’s what this was all about, that I’d translated something he wanted to know.”

  “He never brought your work up? At all? Nothing about Hungary?”

  She shook her head. “No, he’s after my ex-husband.”

  “Ms. Dalton, don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s no evidence, physical or otherwise, that you were ever married.”

  “I know. Duane said it was necessary to protect his work.”

  “Duane? Is his name Duane Dalton, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s your ex-husband?”

  “Yes, my girls’ father.”

  “Your kidnapper wanted you to make contact with your ex-husband? That’s why he used the video camera?”

  Her face screwed up as she fought tears. “He made me call him. He could see me on his computer. He showed him our girls too. They were so scared.”

  “Duane could see you and your daughters?”

  She nodded.

  “Did the man hurt your girls?”

  Nichole shook her head.

  Nathan gave an inward sigh of relief. “Who is your ex-husband?”

  “You mean what does he do? He didn’t talk about it much. He was always secretive about everything.”

  “Where does he live?’

  “Glen Echo.”

  He exchanged another glance with Harv. Glen Echo was right across the Potomac River from Langley. “Do you have an address for him?”

  “Not a real address. Just a post office box.”

  “No street location at all?”

  “No. All I’ve had since we divorced is his cell number.”

  Nichole Dalton’s voice grew higher in pitch. She seemed on the verge of losing control. Understandable, given what she’d just been through. Nathan looked at Harv and received a nod to continue. Harv was a better judge of mental states.

  “You’re doing fine,” Nathan said softly. “Everything you tell us will help us find your girls. What does Duane do for a living?”

  “He owns a construction management company.”

  “What kind of construction?”

  “Power plants.”

  “For generating electricity, like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here? In the U.S.?”

  She shook her head. “Overseas. Eastern Europe and North Africa.”

  “Nuclear power plants?”

  “No, coal and oil.”

  Another piece of the puzzle. “What’s his company’s name?”

  “Energy something… systems, maybe.”

  “Energy Solutions, Incorporated?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  Nathan looked at Harv. It was the company Holly mentioned, the same company Arthur Kramer had worked for before Montez sliced him up and dumped him in Lake Powell.

  “Does he have an office somewhere?”

  “I don’t know. He works out of his home back east, but he’s not there much. He hardly ever sees the girls.”

  “My next question might seem a little insulting. I’m sorry for asking, but could Duane be involved with anything illegal? Drugs or smuggling, anything like that?”

  “No way, not Duane.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “He hates drug dealers more than anything. His cousin died from an overdose when he was in high school.”

  “What did your husband do before he owned the construction management firm?”

  “He was an Air Force officer.”

  “Was he a pilot?”

  “No. He worked at NORAD. Something to do with satellites and thermal imaging.”

  He looked at Harv and received a slight nod.

  Harv stepped forward. “Ms. Dalton, you’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. I mean it. I’m not just saying it to patronize you.”

  “I don’t feel very brave right now. I’m scared for my girls.”

  “
We’re going to find them. Do you know if Duane was in Washington when your kidnapper forced you to contact him?”

  “No, he was in Eastern Europe, at one of his job sites. I don’t know exactly where.”

  “How long ago did you make that call?”

  “I think around three days. I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. They kept me in there the entire time except to use the bathroom.”

  “Have you been in contact with Duane since?”

  “No. But he talked to the girls. I heard them talking through the ceiling. They sounded really scared.”

  “When was that?”

  “Yesterday sometime.”

  “Was that the last time you saw your kidnapper or your girls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did the man say anything about where he was going next?”

  “No, but I overheard bits and pieces of their conversation. I’m sure I heard San Diego a few times. Is any of this going to help you find them?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” Harv paused to think for a moment. “I have one more question about your ex-husband. You said he only saw his daughters on occasion. Did he ever come out here to see them?”

  “A few times.”

  “Okay, now do you have any idea where Duane usually stayed when he came to San Diego?”

  Nichole thought for a moment. “He stays in a really big house in the Lomas Santa Fe area. I think it’s a friend’s.”

  “Have you ever been there?” Harv asked.

  “Three or four times. Just to drop off or pick up the girls. Never inside.”

  “Can you tell us where it is?”

  She took another drink of water. “I only remember turning onto El Camino Real from Via de la Valle. It’s a few miles up.”

  “Is there anything about the property that stands out? Anything you remember?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re doing fine.” Harv paused. “Think you can re-create the step-by-step process you went through when the kidnapper made you call Duane?”

  Nathan knew Harv had purposely changed directions. Debriefing often employed this method. New memories could trigger older ones.

  “I think so,” she said. “He set up the video camera and connected it to his laptop. He made me call Duane and then made him connect to a Web site so he could see me. Then he took the phone. I couldn’t hear what Duane said.”

  “What did he say to Duane?”

  She shook her head. “I was so scared. I don’t remember.”

  “I want you do a breathing exercise with me, okay? Close your eyes and take a deep breath. I want you to let it out slowly. We’ll do it together.… Breathe in deep, and let it out slowly. Let your pain recede into the background. Listen to my voice and picture a dark blue color, like a twilight sky. Take another deep breath and let it out slowly. See the twilight sky in your mind. Let’s take another deep breath together. Let it out slowly. Deep breath. Out slowly. One more time.”

  Nathan watched Nichole’s expression ease. Atta boy, Harv. His partner was so good at this kind of thing that even Grangeland’s expression seemed to ease.

  “Keep your eyes closed and picture the twilight sky. Concentrate on my voice. Take another deep breath and let it out slowly.” Harv’s tone had taken on a soothing, melodic cadence. Nathan found himself deep breathing with Nichole. “Rewind your thoughts. Go back to the call. Picture yourself as you were at the time and see the event as it unfolds. He took the phone from you and spoke to Duane. What happened next?”

  “He said something about being attacked, asked if Duane knew about it.”

  Harv waited.

  “He wouldn’t let Duane ask any questions. He shocked me with a stun gun to make Duane talk. It was horrible. Duane said something to him and he covered me with a sheet.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He said he’d keep his men away from us if Duane cooperated. He held a box of condoms up to the camera. I was so scared my girls were going to be raped.”

  “I know this is painful to relive, but you’re helping us a lot. What happened next?”

  “He brought my girls into the room. He told me he’d kidnapped them, but he never let me see them. Before that, I could only hear them upstairs. They were so scared. He taped my mouth closed.” She began to cry again.

  Nathan shook his head at Montez’s cruel methods.

  Harv continued. “Keep you eyes closed. What happened next?”

  “He said he didn’t care about Duane. He wanted someone else.”

  “Okay, I want you to keep your eyes closed. Take another deep breath and let it out slowly. Everything you’re remembering will help us find your girls. Let’s drive to the house in Lomas Santa Fe together. You turn north on El Camino Real and go up the hill. Do you remember crossing any streets with stop signs? Anything like that?”

  “Yes, we went past a stop sign, but I don’t know the street’s name.”

  “Don’t worry about that. What does the house look like?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen it. Duane didn’t want me to drive up.”

  “You can’t see it from the street?”

  “No.”

  “So you drop the girls off at the driveway and they walk up to the house?”

  “It’s a safe neighborhood. Duane meets them at the top of the driveway.”

  “The house is above the street?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does the driveway look like? Is it asphalt or concrete?”

  “No. It’s made of bricks.”

  “Bricks? Or pavers? Maybe interlocking pavers?”

  “Yes, pavers.”

  “Does the property have a fence?”

  “Yes.”

  “A rail fence?”

  “Yes. It’s white.”

  “You’re doing great, Ms. Dalton. Is there an electric gate to get in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which side of the street is it on?”

  “The right side.”

  “Okay, picture the entrance in your mind. You pull up to the driveway and stop. The electric gate is on the right. The girls get out. Can they walk around the gate?”

  “Yes, it’s just to stop cars.”

  “Is the gate white too?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “What else do you see? Does the entrance have anything architectural? An arch, maybe some stone columns? Anything like that?”

  “A stump.”

  “Stump? What do you mean?”

  “There’s a big eucalyptus stump next to the gate.”

  “From a cut-down tree?”

  “The girls wanted to know why the owner did it.”

  “It’s cut pretty low to the ground?”

  “They can climb on it.”

  Harv looked his way. He pointed to his wrist.

  “Thank you, Ms. Dalton,” Harv said. “You can open your eyes now.”

  Nathan took over, moving closer to Nichole Dalton and gently taking her hand. “You’ve given us really helpful information. The man who kidnapped you is very resourceful. If we take you to a hospital, the police will get involved. The news media monitor police and fire frequencies. Lots of people do the same thing with scanners. We’re going to tend to your needs outside the normal chain of the EMS. It’s the only way to ensure you’ll remain hidden and safe. You need to trust us. What I’m about to say may sound insensitive based on everything you’ve been through, but it’s not my intent. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I know your cuts are painful, but they’re not life threatening. You’re in no danger of dying. It’s important we keep you completely hidden. Harv and I know a doctor. He’s a very skilled plastic surgeon who can suture you up much better than an ER doctor. He’ll get you on antibiotics too. You’ll be in very good hands. I promise. You need to trust us, okay?”

  “I do trust you. You just rescued me. But what about my girls?”

  “Like I said, you need to trust us. While you’re being
treated, we’re gonna be busy.” Time for a white lie. “I promise we’re going to find your girls. All those questions you answered help us a lot. It’s also the reason for the secrecy I mentioned. We don’t want their kidnapper to know we’re closing in on him. I promise to have you out of here in the next ten minutes or so. I can’t tell you everything, but there are other people who’ll want to talk to you about your kidnapper.”

  “The NSA.”

  “Probably the CIA and FBI too. We can insulate you for a while, but you’ll eventually have to talk to them.”

  “I don’t understand any of this. It’s like a bad dream. I keep thinking I’ll wake up in my bed and none of this will be real.”

  “That’s a normal thing to feel. Ms. Grangeland is going to stay with you while Harvey and I talk to those men out there. I promise this won’t take long.”

  Nathan motioned for Harv to follow him out of the room. “She’s not a spook.”

  “I agree,” Harv said.

  “We need to find out which one of those goons is in charge and get Montez’s phone number.”

  Chapter 31

  The great and powerful Duane Dalton—a truly pathetic sight—broken and sobbing like a child. Not so great or powerful anymore. Yet something bothered Montez. He didn’t feel a sense of satisfaction with Dalton like he had with Kramer. He supposed it might have something to do with familiarity. Over the last six years, he’d had frequent contact with Kramer. Interrogating Kramer had been… what? Enjoyable? No, that wasn’t the right word. Satisfying. He’d always sensed a smug superiority oozing from Kramer, as if the man felt interacting with a mere Nicaraguan interrogator had somehow been beneath him. At the end, he’d actually lost his cool with Kramer at Bullfrog Bay. Montez winced inwardly. He was better than that. Above it. Still, casually pushing Kramer into the water with his foot had been sweet, as had seeing Kramer’s final expression.

  Dalton was in bad shape, but not as bad as Kramer. Montez’s interrogation techniques always produced a lot of blood, but not fatally so. He’d never lost a subject during questioning. Accidentally killing a subject was inexcusable and costly. Rule number one in interrogation: You can’t question a dead subject.

  Still, he hadn’t fully broken Dalton. The man acted as if he were telling all, but decades of experience told Montez he hadn’t extracted everything yet.