Page 105 of Code 6

Kate showed no reaction, but clearly her instinct had been right: Peel had told her less than everything about Olga.

“A white string bikini,” Peel said with a begrudging look on his face.

A chuckle came over the line. “I’ll bet she didn’t wear it for long, did she?”

“Is that what this call is about?” asked Peel. “Embarrassing me in front of my partner’s daughter?”

“No. This is all about the code you’re going to direct Buck Technologies to deliver to me.”

Kate reestablished herself as negotiator. “We’re listening,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“I’m not even going to try,” he said. “There’s only one person on this end of the line who can put this demand into words that leave no room for misunderstanding.”

Kate assumed he meant Patrick, but she wanted more than just his technical description of the ransom, which for all she knew was a recording. She needed confirmation that he was alive as of that very moment.

“One thing before we get into tech speak. You asked Mr. Peel a question to make sure it was him. I need to do the same with Patrick.”

“Fair enough. Ask away. I’ll get the answer.”

Kate would have preferred to hear it straight from Patrick’s mouth, but this would suffice.

“Ask him what his favorite breed of dog is.”

A good guess would have been a St. Bernard or Scottish shepherd, given that the company logo was based on the mixed breed in Jack London’s novel. But guessing would have been futile. Only Patrick could answer this question. Kate waited, and the kidnapper was back on the line.

“The Shiba Inu,” he said.

It made Kate’s heart sing. The Shiba Inu was the breed behind the meme that spawned the cryptocurrency Dogecoin. Patrick, of course, had gotten in on the ground floor as a teenager, turning a seventy-five-dollar investment into God only knew how much money.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“Yes. Definitely.”

“That’s your one and only question. I’m putting Patrick on the linenow. He will tell you exactly what you are to deliver as ransom, and he will say no more. Don’t encourage him to talk, or it will be at the expense of his health and well-being. Understood?”

“Yes.”

A few seconds of silence followed. Kate waited with anticipation. Then Patrick’s voice was on the line.

“I could go on and on,” he said. “But let me keep this simple and put it in terms you can understand. He wants Code Six. Got it, Kate? Code Six. That’s the whole enchilada.”

The kidnapper was back on the line. “Well, if the smart-ass had just told me it could be described in two words, I would have done it myself. But there you have it, and you know he’s alive. Next call is in twenty-four hours. Be in Cali by then. Have the code on a flash drive.”

“I can’t go to Cali.”

“You can. And you will—if you want El Rubio back. This exchange is not going to take place in your backyard. It will be in mine.”

The call ended. Kate put the phone away, her thoughts racing. The words Patrick had chosen, and the way he’d spoken to her by name, were not lost on her.

“What the hell is Patrick talking about?” asked Peel. “I have no idea what Code Six is.”

For once, Kate had no reason to doubt him. “I know you don’t,” she said.

Kate grabbed her phones—old and new—and started toward the door.

“Hey,” said Peel, stopping her. “You’re not going anywhere until you sign that NDA. This is all our secret.”

“I don’t sign anything under duress, Mr. Peel. And Patrick just changed the whole ball game with Code Six.”