Page 73 of Recipe for Disaster


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“Are we to be entertained by women fighting tonight? Or are we to enjoy the pleasure of your White House mole?”

CHAPTER19

“Agent Todd isn’t answering his cell,” Adam said into the speakerphone in the White House Secret Service office. “Ben, can we get a ping from the GPS device in the decoy vehicle?”

“I’m checking,” Ben answered.

Griffin had never felt so numb in all his life. He sat in Director Worcester’s office staring blankly at the agents scurrying around him.

He’d lost her.

After all he’d done, it hadn’t been enough. Griffin had lost colleagues before—both military and civilian—but never someone under his protection. And for it to be Marin was doubly devastating. They had a connection. One that scared the hell out of him, but not knowing her whereabouts was even more frightening. His mind whirred and his stomach lurched just thinking about the heinous murders Salenko had already committed. He slammed his eyes shut and banged his head against the wall at the thought of that monster touching Marin.

“Agent Keller.”

Snapping his lids open, he met the fierce gaze of the president. He was standing in front of Griffin holding a glass with amber liquid swirling around in it.

“Take this and drink it,” the president commanded. “That’s an order.”

Griffin was embarrassed at the way his hand shook, but he took the tumbler and downed its contents in one gulp. The bourbon burned his throat, but at this point Griffin didn’t care.

“No one holds you responsible, Agent Keller,” the president said. “We’ll find her.”

He shot to his feet. “She’s still alive,” Griffin croaked out. “I’d know if she—wasn’t.” He didn’t bother explaining to President Manning how he knew. Griffin got the feeling the man understood.

The president clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll find her,” he repeated.

“Damn it,” Ben’s voice came over the speakerphone. “It looks like the GPS in the decoy vehicle has been disabled.”

The fervor in the room seemed to dim.

Griffin ran his fingers through his hair and squeezed his skull. “There has to be some other way to trace it, Ben,” he groaned.

“Wait,” Ben said. “Did you say she took Otto with her?”

“That’s it!” Adam shouted. “The K-9s all have a GPS microchip implanted in them. Can you track them that way?”

“It’s gonna take me a few minutes. I have to find Otto’s specific serial number, but, yes, I’m sure that I can.”

The movement in the room stilled as everyone waited for Ben’s response. Griffin’s heart pounded so hard he thought it would crack a rib.

“I’ve got him!” Ben announced.

“Where?” Adam asked as he and Griffin headed for the door.

“Marbury Point. I’m texting you the address.”

“Text it to Agent Morgan, too,” Griffin called over his shoulder.

Officer Stevens, Otto’s K-9 handler, fell into step with them. Griffin acknowledged him with a nod as the three men jogged back through the West Wing and out the side entrance to where the Counter Assault Team’s combat vehicle was already running. Adam jumped in the front passenger seat while Griffin and Officer Stevens scrambled to get in back. The agent driving had the Humvee moving before Griffin closed his door.

“Talk to me, Ben,” Griffin demanded into his cell phone.

“Otto’s signal is coming from a warehouse near the water treatment plant,” Ben said. “The address checks out as belonging to the pool servicing company. I’m checking for live video in the area, but so far nothing is coming up.”

“Thirteen minutes out,” the driver announced.

Thirteen minutes.Griffin’s gut clenched. Salenko could administer any amount of torture in thirteen minutes.

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