Death Echo

disconnected.
    â€œDid we get the kidnap victim out in one piece?” Dwayne asked.
    â€œI’ll tell you in ninety-one minutes.”
    Dwayne pursed lips that more than one woman had openly lusted after. He blew out a long breath that was also a curse. “So the government was in on it after all?”
    â€œCrotch-deep and still sinking.” Steele sped toward another station, another screen. “That’s why factions are useful, though slippery. It’s the ones that aren’t getting a cut of the ransom money that get chatty.”
    â€œAnd then they go to another faction and sell the same information.” Sell us out.
    Steele shrugged. “If we can buy someone, we can be assured that someone else can and will. Just a matter of who gets to the finish line alive. Has Alara returned my call?”
    â€œTwice.” Dwayne glanced at a bank of lights on his desk. Number Four was still blinking. “Transferring line four to your headset.”
    Before Dwayne had finished speaking, Steele was.
    â€œAlara. Thank you for getting back so quickly. What have you discovered?”
    The voice on the other end of the line was as clear and precise as Steele’s. “Somebody in the FBI stuck a screw-you flag on Blackbird ’s name in the Canadian customs’ computer system.”
    â€œAny reason, other than the usual?”
    â€œAn inter-agency pissing contest.”
    â€œThat would be the usual,” Steele said.
    â€œThe FBI was quite unhappy that they weren’t made aware of Temuri’s presence within U.S. jurisdiction.”
    â€œAccording to Joe Faroe, Temuri left Rosario shortly after Blackbird did.”
    â€œThe FBI was notified as soon as Temuri’s car turned onto Interstate 5, heading north or south,” Alara said blandly. “Our informant couldn’t be certain of the direction. In fact, he wasn’t certain that it was Temuri’s car until we traced the plates back to a rental agency. As soon as we were certain, one of my co-workers shared the information with the FBI.”
    â€œPity it was too late to catch him,” Steele said, his voice deadly neutral. “Any sign of other computer tags on Blackbird or its crew?”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œAny new information?”
    â€œI’ve sent many files to your computer,” Alara said.
    â€œMy dear, if I were a farmer, I would be ecstatic at the amount of fertilizer you’ve given to me.”
    Alara beat Steele to the disconnect button.

36
    DAY FOUR
NANAIMO
11:40 A.M .
    A fter being at full throttle, or even at sixteen knots, four to six knots was a yawning crawl. Emma felt like giving back the controls to Mac, who had let her take over as soon as they were through Dodd Narrows.
    She wouldn’t have touched the controls in the narrows. The current had been running at six knots and the slot looked like a churning, foaming invitation to disaster.
    Mac had brought Blackbird through without hesitation. “Are they serious?” Emma asked, looking at the “speed limit” sign floating at the beginning of Nanaimo Harbor.
    â€œVery,” Mac said. “Enjoy the slow-motion scenery.”
    She shook her head, but didn’t argue, just kept easing off the throttles. After some time at Blackbird ’s controls, she was more relaxed, if no less alert to the hazards on the water.
    She spared the scenery a few admiring glances. Nanaimo was a surprising gem set about halfway up to Campbell River on the east side of Vancouver Island, right in the middle of boating paradise—green and blue and white, rocky islets, whipped-cream clouds, and picturesque shoreline. The water was alive with workboats and cruisers, water taxis and the single-and twin-engine seaplanes ofthree different airlines. Not enough commerce to totally destroy the ambience, yet enough to sustain a small city.
    Except…
    â€œThat smell,” she said.
    â€œPulp mill,” Mac answered. “Used to be the perfume of the Pacific Northwest, the engine of growth. Now, so few lumber operations are active that the smell is almost nostalgic.”
    â€œNostalgic.” She cleared her throat. “That’s one word for it. I suppose you get nostalgic over the odor of fish canneries.”
    â€œMe? No. But a lot of old men who used to provide a good living for their children and grandchildren sure would.”
    â€œThe world still eats boatloads of