Page 130 of Grave Danger
“Good. Now delete it from your phone. What’s the location?”
“I’m nearby. Agent Kennedy and I are less than a mile away.”
“Give me the location, Henning. I said I’ll take it from here.”
Andie didn’t like being cut out, especially if Jack was in danger. But she’d already blurred the lines between professional and personal. She gave up Jack’s location.
“Jack is expecting me to call him back,” said Andie.
“I’ll handle it.”
“What should I do if he calls me?”
“Don’t answer. I’m going to contact him on my terms.”
It took all of Andie’s inner strength to remain respectful. “I’m sorry, sir. I have reason to believe that my husband is in danger. I’m not going to ignore his call.”
Tidwell took a moment to reconsider. “Fine. Take the call. But conference me in immediately. And delete that video.”
The videoconference ended. Andie glanced across the console at Grace in the dim light of the dash.
“There’s a very fishy smell,” said Grace, “and it isn’t coming from the ocean.”
“Which tells me one thing,” said Andie.
“What?”
“Ava Bazzi is bigger than Jack knows. Bigger than you and I can imagine.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Grace.
Andie reached for her tablet on the dashboard. “We’re going to watch that video.”
Jack was in the kitchen with Zahra and Nouri. His cell phone lay on the countertop, and his gaze was locked onto the screen.
Zahra shifted nervously in her seat. “I’m not sure I want to watch.”
“It’s important that everyone see this video,” said Nouri, and he hit the play button.
The video was low quality, and the frames jumped around so randomly that Jack had to strain to discern the image.
“It’s from a body camera,” Nouri explained. “Like the kind police wear.”
Jack watched closely. Whoever had been wearing the body camera finally stopped moving. The frame was still. The image came into focus on the screen. The camera—cameraman—was positioned at one end of a long corridor that was lined on both sides with iron prison bars. Hands and elbows protruded through the bars at random intervals, as if the cells were overcrowded, not enough room for all those detained. The hands appeared delicate, Jack noticed.
“A women’s cellblock?” Jack asked.
“Just watch,” said Nouri.
Two male prison guards appeared at the other end of the cellblock. An inmate stood between them, dressed in prison garb. The prisoner was much smaller than the guards and appeared to be a woman. Jack couldn’t be certain. A black hood covered the inmate’s head. The guards started walking toward the camera, bringing the prisoner with them. They walked the entire length of the cellblock, past the overcrowded cells, and stopped in front of the body camera.
Jack looked at the screen carefully. Even with the hood, it was now clear that the inmate was a woman.
One of the guards moved his mouth, talking, but there was no audio on the recording. The cameraman’s hands occasionally came into view. He was gesturing the way people do when talking, but it was more than just talk.
“Are theynegotiating?” asked Jack.
The answer came quickly. A wad of cash passed before the lens, from the cameraman’s hand to the prison guard’s pocket. The guard handed over a plastic bag that, Jack presumed, contained the prisoner’s belongings. The other guard then removed the hood, apparently to confirm that they were delivering the promised prisoner.