Page 100 of Every Last Breath

“Where are you going with this?” Sanborn asked.

Castle slapped the table. “You’re a genius. Her watch has a GPS chip linked to her smartphone. If we have her phone, we can locate her.”

Oh, thank God. Cole could breathe again.

“Wouldn’t the stun gun have shorted out the watch?” Cutter asked.

“This isn’t a Road Runner cartoon where electricity races over Wile E. Coyote,” Gideon said, and Cutter rolled his eyes. “Stun guns have a very high voltage to penetrate thicker layers of clothing at the point of contact. But the amps, the amount of juice they use is pretty minuscule. Not even high enough to short-out a pacemaker. Novak would’ve gotten Maddox where there’s a big bundle of nerves close to the skin. Stomach, neck. Her muscles would’ve absorbed the energy, disrupting her central nervous system. Incapacitated her for a minute, two at most. That’s why he drugged her.”

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut as if picturing the same horrible thing playing in Cole’s mind. The pain Maddox must’ve felt as Novak had gotten her in the stomach or neck. Cole pressed his fists against his thighs.

“Thanks for the science lesson, Golden Boy.” The sarcasm in Cutter’s voice rang clear as a bell.

Gideon’s jaw hardened.

Reece let out a low whistle, flipping off his cap and setting it on the table. “Kid, you’ve got some nerve calling Reaper that. Having an Annie spot on the team, you REMF, hasn’t earned you the right to razz this operator.”

“I might be a rear echelon motherfucker right now, working a desk as an analyst,” Cutter said, “but I’ve bled in the field with some of this country’s finest.” He straightened his suit jacket with a huff.

“Enough.” The single, fiery word from Sanborn ended the squabble steeped in history Cole wasn’t privy to.

“Unless he used the stun gun directly on the watch,” Harper said, not the slightest bit derailed, gaze glued to the table, “it should be functional.”

“What are we waiting for?” Cole ground out, fighting for patience. “Let’s use the GPS to find her.”

“It’s not that simple,” Harper said. “Not unless someone knows her password. It took the FBI weeks to crack into the smartphone of a terrorist, and I’ve never hacked one.”

A deflated sigh resonated through the room, and for a moment, Cole didn’t know if it came from him or Amanda or them both.

“Our firewalls are more stringent than the NSA’s Utah Data Center because you designed them.” Gideon chewed on his gum in a slow, steady rhythm, head lowered. “I bet the only reason you’ve never hacked a smartphone is because you’ve never tried. You’re smarter than any FBI techie or analyst. If anyone can do it fast, it’s you.”

Gideon never once glanced at Harper, and she sat with her doe eyes wide and face flushed, looking totally spooked.

You would’ve sworn it was either the first time the guy had ever spoken to her, or she was terrified of him. Both seemed plausible. They moved in opposing currents—where one went left, the other went right. Even now, they sat at opposite ends of the table.

“O-kay. Can you do it or not?” Cole hit the glass table with his palm.

Harper flinched, snapping out of her daze. “I’ve never tried.”

“Do you know how?” Cole raked his hands through his hair.

“In theory.”

Her iffy expression didn’t inspire the confidence needed to keep him planted in the damn chair any longer. Cole sprang to his feet and stalked the room.

“Does anyone know if she enabled the iOS option on her phone?” Harper asked.

“What?” Cole didn’t know the difference between iOS and DOS. Based on the heads shaking and shoulders shrugging, the others didn’t have an answer either.

“On a smartphone, typically a person picks an alphanumeric passcode between four to six digits long. With a simple four-digit code, there are about ten thousand combinations and it could take a few hours. The iOS option allows for a thirty-seven-digit code. It’d take weeks to crack.”

His hands clenched. “We have hours! She has hours!”

Harper cowered as if the anger in his voice had smacked her with physical force.

“Settle down.” Gideon’s ever-steady tone took on an edge. “This isn’t helping.”

Cole nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”