“We need intel.”
“Four to five hours to Acapulco, and that’s pushing it if we have to hop back on the plane for another three-hour leg to Guadalajara. We’ll need to refuel someplace.”
“We’re covered. Sean, don’t change the plan.”
“We have no fucking plan because we don’t know what the fuck is going on or where the fuck they are!”
Sean turned toward the runway. He glanced once back toward the tarmac. Madison was standing right where he’d left her.
Kane didn’t say anything as Sean built up speed and lifted off. If this was any other day and any other trip, Sean would have appreciated the state-of-the-art plane. The comfort. The speed. But today … now … he just wanted to find his son.
His son.
Kane said, “Control your emotions.”
“I am.”
“Bullshit.”
Sean spent more time than necessary playing with the gauges and controls. Kane knew what he was doing. Getting his shit together.
“We landed on somebody’s radar,” Sean said. “That’s why Carson called her.”
“I talked to one person who I trust. But he may have tripped something getting details on Spade. Who did you talk to?”
“No one except you and JT and Jaye.” Sean paused. “I dug around in Carson’s finances.”
“Trip anything?”
“Doubtful, but I didn’t have time to be extra cautious. The only way he would know I was digging was if he was watching real-time or had a program that knew exactly what to look for in a hack.”
“How likely?”
“Well, I’d say highly unlikely unless he’s working with top tech people. Or he had someone like me set it up for him. Or if he was suspicious. And if he’s laundering money, he would be suspicious.”
“We tipped our hand. One of us—you or me. Or Jaye. You have her running backgrounds and financials?”
“She’s just as good as me when it comes to covering her tracks.”
There was only so much they could do. If someone was monitoring finances live and they were smart, they might see something odd. If they were up to no good, they would be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.
Kane continued. “My security guy in Acapulco is pulling feeds from the resort Spade was at. We’ll know who, if anyone, he met with. What he did. What he fucking ate for breakfast and when he took a shit. We need that intel, otherwise we’re going in blind. So stay on course, Sean.” He paused. “Jesse is a Rogan, we’re not going to leave him behind. I promise you that. But we’re not going to be stupid about it, just like you weren’t stupid when you rescued me outside Santiago.”
Kane was right. Of course he was, he’d been doing these kind of rescues for twenty years. It was in his blood. Sean was just the driver—or pilot, as the case may be. He had to trust his brother.
“She lied. In part. I’m sure she talked to Spade and Jesse, but he told her something else. Something that freaked her out so much that she came to the airport and tried to stop us.”
“The question is, did she tell Spade who she hired?”
Sean considered the conversation he’d just had with Madison. “My guess is no. She wouldn’t want him to know she came to me when the going got tough. Carson must know I’m Jesse’s real father. And Madison is trying to salvage her life right now.”
“We’ll go on that assumption, but you have to remember, Sean—the Rogan name is akin to God in some places, and Satan in others. We’re certainly not in Kansas anymore.”
Sean glanced at his brother with a half smile. “A joke. Really.”
Kane smiled, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
Sean flew. And thought about the lost years.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucy, Noah, and Siobhan arrived in Laredo just after nine thirty Tuesday morning. Lucy had spent the two-hour drive reviewing notes from their analyst regarding the properties managed by Direct Property Holdings.
TO:
SSA N. Armstrong
FROM:
Z. Charles, Analyst III
RE:
Case 16-T4022209-A
CC:
SA L. Kincaid