AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Monica put her hand on his shoulder, her expression sympathetic. She knew the whole story. She believed him.
“Mr. Roth,” Carter said, giving Monica a disapproving frown, “I don’t believe that Jacob Calakmul truly expects us to hand you over to him. It’s not the policy of the US government to negotiate with terrorists, let alone turn over civilians for them to kill or torture.”
“What does he want, then?” Roth asked.
“We were hoping you could tell us,” Brower said.
Roth looked at Monica and then back at the stone-faced FBI agent. “And I’m supposed to know . . . how?”
“Jonathon,” Monica said to Roth, “Calakmul doesn’t fit the profile of regular serial killers, organized crime bosses, or drug lords. Remember the recording you made at the Beck cabin?”
“Yes,” Roth answered. Jordan had zip-tied Monica to the kitchen chair. They’d believed, because of Moretti’s lies, that she wasn’t trustworthy. While she was tied up, he’d recorded his family’s story about the Mexico trip. She’d been skeptical at the time, but then she’d witnessed firsthand what a jaguar priest could do. One of them had taken out an FBI helicopter and a sniper team before transforming into a wild animal in front of them. It was the kind of thing that didn’t leave room for disbelief.
“We’re parsing through every word you said. Our analysts, as well as the CIA’s, are trying to connect the dots.”
Carter held up his hand. “You’re telling him too much, Agent Sanchez.”
“We need his help, sir. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? It was his idea to research the institute at UC San Diego. It might have been weeks or months before anyone thought of it—if they did at all.”
“It hardly matters now, Sanchez. They would have contacted us about the attack regardless, and—”
“Mr. Roth,” Brower cut in. Roth determined the man’s rank was much higher than Carter’s when the SAC quickly became tight lipped. “Were you aware that your home was bugged before we executed the search warrant?”
Roth looked into the man’s stern eyes. “I suspected it. Yes.”
“Why didn’t you notify law enforcement back then?”
“Because they had my wife as a hostage,” Roth answered darkly. He glanced at the boys, who were staring at the adults with frightened looks. They were just kids. Maybe he should have left them at the hotel, but Roth didn’t want to let them out of his sight. Not after Suki’s abduction.
“And I advised him not to,” Lund added. He’d been so quiet, standing with his back to the door, that Roth had almost forgotten he was there behind him. “I thought, at the time, that Calakmul was just a drug lord looking for money. I didn’t realize this was bigger than that until recently. We got a Vivint security system for the house—door locks, motion sensors—but didn’t clean the ducts. That’s not standard install protocol for a company like that anyway.”
Carter pursed his lips. “But if you suspected—”
“We wanted Calakmul to believe that his surveillance wasn’t compromised,” Lund interrupted. “I provided burner phones and new equipment. All of Jonathon’s research into the ancient Maya happened on those devices. That’s when he decided to make a trip to Germany to test his theory. As you already know, he wrote a book about his experiences in the death game, changing the names to ensure it didn’t show up on any of Calakmul’s searches, and published it under a pseudonym. He was sharing information to try and help—to see if anyone else found it and came forward—but in a way that wouldn’t compromise his wife or the rest of his family.”
Brower’s eyes crinkled just slightly. “And so you went to Germany to see this Dresden Codex. The director spoke to the head of the German BND, who was asking questions we’re not ready to answer yet. You should have been more open with us about all of this, Steve.”
“You and I both know why I wasn’t,” Lund answered defensively.
There was a story behind it. Roth didn’t know what it was, but he could feel half the people in the room bristle.
“Can I tell him about the equipment we found in his house?” Monica asked.
Brower nodded.
“It’s the same equipment the NSA uses,” she said. “High-end stuff. Stuff that even the movies get wrong. The director confronted the NSA about it and learned there was no active investigation happening with your family. No FISA court. Nothing. So we cross-referenced Agent Garcia’s cell phone and found a number for a guy who used to work for the NSA. A crackerjack hacker. Mexican American from the Bay Area in California . . . where you used to live.”
Roth nodded, interested. “Calakmul’s been recruiting people from Silicon Valley.”
“Obviously,” Carter said. “I think we’re nearing the boundary of what we can share with Mr. Roth. In the recording, you mentioned seeing people at the death game. Celebrities. Business leaders. Even politicians. Are you prepared to name names?”
Roth glanced at the boys and then at Lund, who shook his head no.
Carter slammed his fist on the table. “We don’t have time for games, Lund!”
Brower leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap. He looked patient, unbothered, but his eyes were fixed on Lund.
“You mentioned a ransomware virus,” Lund said in a measured tone. “What about the deadly one that’s spreading from those cruise ships? Mighty suspicious the way it’s spreading. Doesn’t seem natural.”
