The Heart of the Jungle, стр. 49

Frank sighed heavily on the other end of the line. "Kid, you're as bad as your father. You sure know how to get yourself into trouble."

Jason was surprised. As far as he knew, his father was the straightest lace there ever was. There was a story there, but now wasn't the time.

"I think you better tell me where you are so we can get this all sorted out."

"Bellagio, thirty-sixth floor."

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

"Bring support. This one's bad, and we need to move now."

"Understood," Frank said. "You can finish briefing me when I arrive."

FRANK MARCUS was a stocky, powerfully built man. His face was grizzled, but there was undeniable kindness in his eyes. The moment he strode into the room with two armed uniformed agents in tow, Jason was relieved. The days of overconfidence were long behind him.

Frank clasped his hand, and Jason pulled him into a hug instead.

After a moment, Frank pushed him away and, with a discomfited glance back at the agents accompanying him, said, "Shit, son, knock that crap off. What the hell's got into you?"

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Jason replied.

"You better tell me what this is all about," Frank warned.

"As I told you, I'm working a case. A little less than a year ago, my client came home to a bloodbath---his two-year-old daughter and domestic partner were apparently murdered. The cops investigated but never found the bodies. Forensics tested the blood and identified it as belonging to Michael Blake, my client's partner. Based on the amount of blood at the scene, they presumed homicide." He gestured toward the trussed and unconscious form on the hotel bed. "This is Michael Blake."

"But this man isn't dead."

"No, he's alive and... mostly in one piece. I don't know all the details yet, but there's some kind of crazy conspiracy underway, and it's like nothing I've ever seen."

"You're making this up."

"Frank, I assure you, it's all true. It gets worse."

"How worse?"

"The little girl is still alive. She's been placed in the custody of someone named Mariano---" There was a sharp intake of breath as the name registered with Frank. "Know him?"

"Mafia. Big shot. Deep connections in this town. Christ on the cross."

"Mafia?" Jason was stricken. He shook his head in dismay. "If you call Seattle PD and order up the records, you'll find out that the girl is presumed murdered too. What's actually happened is that the whole thing was staged. Maybe they used banked blood to make it look like a murder. Who the hell knows? All I can say for sure is that Brianna James is alive and right here in Las Vegas. She was kidnapped and transported across state lines, which makes it your jurisdiction."

"What else have you got? I can't move on Mariano without some kind of proof."

"Woman by the name of Sylvia Hopkins---owns a nightclub on Paradise---brokered the deal."

"Hopkins? Interesting. We've had a bead on that demented bitch for a while now."

"Yeah, I figured you might. Well, I paid her a visit last night. I recorded our conversation." He brandished his cellular telephone. "I love this thing. Everything you need to nail her ass to the wall is here."

Frank reached for the phone, and Jason handed it over reluctantly.

"Here's where it gets really bad."

"As compared to the pretty shit you've already told me? Goddamn, kid."

"My client has been abducted. He's in the custody of Johan Brunner. He's the mastermind of this whole twisted plot. Frank, because Brunner has him, we're out of time. The girl's life is in terrible danger. We have to move quickly, before he gets to Mariano and tells him everything is falling apart. According to Hopkins, taking the girl was a favor for someone. We don't know how strong his loyalty is. If he thinks he's threatened and he's as bad as you say he is---"

"John," Frank shouted to one of the agents, "get on the line with HQ. Tell them to expect a recording in their inbox. I need it transcribed and sent over for an emergency warrant, stat." The agent immediately began punching numbers into his mobile phone.

Frank rounded on Jason and poked a hard finger into his chest.

"Right now, this is all your word. Any holes in this fairy tale you've just told me and it's your ass in the sling."

"Pull the files from SPD, get the guys over here to pick up Michael Blake, make him talk. Do whatever you have to do. If we don't move now, they're both dead."

"If it were anyone but you asking me to do this, Jason...."

"I know, Frank."

Frank set up a temporary base of operations in the hotel room. He made several telephone calls in rapid succession, immediately diving headfirst into the myriad details of procedure.

Shortly afterward, the paramedics arrived and made certain Michael was stable. Frank compared his face to a file photo he'd received on his mobile phone from SPD and whistled. "I'll be goddamned," he remarked as they began to wheel him out under armed escort.

"It's him, all right," Jason said dourly.

Frank placed a hand on the lead EMT's arm. "What's his condition?"

"Stable. Without lab tests, it's hard to say. He could be out from a knock to the head, but odds are good he's amped on something. I'd bet my badge on it."

"Keep him under guard until we question him."

The EMT nodded and continued out the door.

Frank took a call, and when he disconnected, he turned to Jason.

"We've got our warrant. A team is assembling to move on the Mariano residence."

Jason shuddered and dropped onto the bed. Frank got back on the telephone with the Seattle police, and after a brief, urgent conversation, he disconnected and flashed Jason a smile.

"SPD just agreed to suspend action on the APB on you and Christian James provided you remain in my custody and agree to cooperate fully with their ongoing investigation."

"I'm far out of my depth as a PI. From