“Do that and you may as well phone Guajardo himself and tell him who you are.”

“Exactly.”

“But if I ask my bosses for help, they will contact your people about it and then refuse because you weren’t given permission.”

“Of course. That’s what bureaucracy is all about.”

“The thing is, as it stands now, if you do find her, you’ll be in shit for going into Mexico.”

“I’ve been in shit before.”

Adams brooded silently as he twirled a spoon around inside his already-stirred coffee. When he looked up he said, “Actually, I’m in deep shit myself right now.”

“Oh?”

Adams twirled the spoon again, then let out a deep sigh and said, “I’ll tell you about it another day. Let’s focus on what we’re doing.”

“I do need to do that. I haven’t been to bed since the night before last.”

“Runnin’ on adrenalin.”

“Mixed in with a little alcohol and caffeine. Hell of a combination, but as far as me being in shit goes, I’m willing to take my chances. One way of getting me off the hook would be if I find her … and we can pinpoint her location, how about you going to your bosses and saying a CI told you where she is? Leave me out of it. Ottawa wouldn’t need to know.”

“I could do that,” Adams agreed.

“And as far as arranging to arrest the guys at The Old Warehouse tonight, tell your bosses I went back to the Armadillo last night to see if Slater had shown up and ended up running into Big Al’s men. Say we had a few beer and El Pero told me he kidnapped Lily and Berto and Eduardo told me they did the hit on Porter in Canada. If they ask you where I was drinking with them say you presume it was in my room. If we’re lucky, by then we will have found Lily and make it look like your friend told you.”

“What will you say if it goes to court?”

“The truth. I will never lie on the stand … maybe refuse to answer to protect a source, but I will never lie. Court’s not a worry. Except for whether or not someone was convicted, my bosses never bother to find out the details. They’ll presume I stayed on this side of the border … unless someone from here tells them otherwise.”

“My bosses would never bother hanging around a courtroom either, although I don’t know if the D.A. handling the case would blab. It would depend upon who we got.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“You don’t mind taking chances, do you?” replied Adams, looking thoughtful.

“The important thing is to rescue Lily.”

“Yeah … and keep you alive,” replied Adams sombrely.

At eight-thirty that morning Davidson was having a terse meeting with Weber in his office.

“So the fucking Mountie called him at five o’clock this morning?” repeated Weber. “I thought the son of a bitch said he was taking the night off to sleep.”

“He didn’t. Everyone thought he had gone to bed, but then the bug picked him up entering the room about five this morning. He called Adams shortly after to tell him the girl is still alive and is being held someplace as a sex slave.”

“And he got an admission from the two hitters who went to Canada,” noted Weber. “You gotta admit, the guy is good.”

“You’ve said the same thing before about Adams. We all could be if we broke the law or ignored policy.”

“That’s true.”

“Besides, I wouldn’t give them too much credit. Once the arrests take place tonight, there is no way any of the bad guys will talk. The Mountie did okay getting these guys to meet him tonight, but when you think about it, what he is really doing is signing the girl’s death warrant. For her sake, I hope it is quick,” said Davidson.

“Yeah … I agree with you there.”

“Another scenario I envision tonight is seeing them grabbing El Pero prior to the arrests and taking him for a ride out in the desert to make him tell them where the girl is. If Adams is true to form, he might kill him after and claim he escaped or something.”

“We could get them both on conspiracy to commit murder.”

“If we get there in time to rescue him. Otherwise it could be murder.”

“There’s always that,” replied Weber. “So what was Adams up to all night?”

“He did spend the night at home,” replied Davidson. “Then came in first thing this morning, grabbed the car, and split before anyone arrived.”

“So where are they?”

“Meeting one of Adams’s CIs,” replied Davidson. “They just got out of the car.”

“Did they talk in the car?”

“Nothing of interest.”

“What about what the Mountie did last night? He must have talked about that?”

“He left his room shortly after seven. Adams was out of his car at six-forty so I think they might have bumped into each other in the hotel lobby or coffee shop.”

“What if —”

“Not to worry. With whatever happened last night, it didn’t give them much time to talk about anything else. Besides, we would have heard something about it when they got back in the car.”

“It sounds like things are really coming down to the crunch,” said Weber.

“For sure. I spoke with the profilers this morning. They say once El Pero and the two hitters come into El Paso tonight and get arrested, it should do the trick. Adams and Taggart will feel a kinship with each other. Once the arrests are made, Adams knows Taggart will be heading back to Canada. They are confident Adams will spill his guts to him before he goes. Once that floodgate opens, it will make them more inclined to talk about other things they’ve done, as well.”

Jack and Adams stood in an alcove in the alley. It wasn’t long before Rubalcava arrived and Jack quickly filled him in on what had happened the previous night.

Rubalcava listened intently and his voice became grave when Jack mentioned the parade of four black SUVs that arrived when Big Al went to talk to his boss. “My friend,” he said, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder, “this is very serious. It tells me who you are dealing with.”

“Guajardo himself?” asked Jack.

“No, his protection is even bigger. But what you have described fits the men who are directly below him. They are extremely dangerous and would kill their own mother for a peso. You must be very, very careful, amigo.”

Jack nodded solemnly.

“Now, you have some pictures to show me?” said Rubalcava.

Jack turned on the laptop and brought up the pictures. Jack expected a little good-natured ribbing when the pictures from inside the brothel were displayed, but there was none.

Rubalcava’s dark eyes flashed out from beneath his furrowed brow as he looked. “I know three of these men,” he said bitterly. “They are sworn to uphold the law, not break it. This piece of shit here,” he said, pointing at the screen with his finger, “is a detective who works out of my office. His name is Sanchez.”

“That is who drove Big Al last night from the restaurant to the brothel. He is also the one who went with El Pero when they grabbed Lily Rae.”

Rubalcava stared at Jack for a moment as his thoughts went back to the day Greg Patton had been kidnapped. “Lily Rae … do you know if she wore a necklace?”

“Yes. Apparently she wore a pendant that was —”

“A small frog,” said Rubalcava.

“Yes. How did —”

“Sanchez gave it to a secretary in my office the same morning Greg Patton was kidnapped.” Rubalcava spat on the ground and uttered a string of profanities in Spanish.

“My original plan was to have El Pero, Berto, and Eduardo arrested tonight in El Paso,” said Jack, “but only if we could rescue Lily first … if she’s still alive.”

“If you are blindfolded, it may be difficult to find out where she is,” said Adams.

“Big Al said it was outside of Juarez and they would have me back at the motel three hours later. Between driving through El Paso, clearing customs, and driving through Juarez … then the return trip, I figure it can’t be more than a thirty-minute drive outside of Juarez.”