Larson lost most of the day to making arrangements. Dr. Miller had once again come through, this time working through the night to follow Markowitz’s e-mails. Those e-mails, all with encrypted attachments, had been sent from Useppa Island to Mountlake Terrace, Washington, north of Seattle. While the private jet was being refueled early in the afternoon on the outskirts of Denver, Larson sat in a black leather chair in the passenger lounge, speaking on the BlackBerry’s cell phone.
He should have felt a pit in his stomach over the seven thousand dollars it cost for him and Hope to fly charter from Tampa to Seattle. If he was not reimbursed for his expenses over the past twenty-four hours, it would take him a couple years to repay the home equity loan. But with Penny’s life in the balance, none of that mattered.
“I tried Rotem: Got his voice mail. You’re stuck with me,” he informed Trill Hampton.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Hampton complained. “That mess out at the Orchard House flattened us here.”
Larson knew the pall that hung over operations following the loss of a fellow deputy. The double homicide must have been devastating and would have long-lasting repercussions.
“I dropped two of Romero’s men last night, and one of them shot and killed Markowitz in the process.”
“That was you,” he said, as if this possibility had already been raised.
“It was ugly. I walked-had to-and I didn’t report it. I’ll pay for that.”
“The FiBIes are apeshit.”
“We’re a step ahead of everyone.”
“We? As in you and the witness?”
“As in,” Larson confirmed. “We haven’t determined how much of Laena he decrypted, but with this meeting called, they must have most if not all of it. How losing Markowitz affects the Romeros, we don’t know. But in all probability, it has sped things up for them. We’ve traced Markowitz’s e-mails to an address north of Seattle.” Larson read the exact address. “Another four hours or so, we’ll be on the ground there. I need you to get the place under surveillance until I arrive. Use our guys if possible. Use local law only if you have to.” Larson didn’t love the idea of Seattle ’s finest being part of the operation. “I want you and Stubby with me. Rotem as CO. We converge on this place ASAP. There’s at least some chance the Romeros have one or two children held hostage-Markowitz’s grandson was nabbed about the time of his disappearance.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“The kids are our top priority, so this is not a crash raid. You got that, Hamp? No matter what, we do not crash this place.”
“Got it.”
“And no one goes in ahead of me.”
“ ’Kay.”
Larson read him the address provided by Miller for a second time. He said, “The three of us-you, me, Stubby-go in after dark. Tonight. We’ll need full gear. No SWAT guys ahead of us. No crash team. But we’ll want them all-we’ll want the fucking Russian army-as backup if it comes to that. The best guys we can assemble.”
“I’ve got it all down.”
“But you, Stubby, and I are lead.”
“And if Scrotum balks at that?”
“Then you need to give me a heads-up, so I can work the alternatives. Don’t leave me hanging.”
“You got it.”
“You’re going to have to move if we’re going to do this tonight. You’re on a plane in the next two hours. If Rotem’s right about this meeting-this auction-taking place tonight, then this is our only window. Markowitz’s grandson has lost his value. We’ve got to act now!”
“So what are you doing keeping me on the phone?” Hampton complained.