Special Forces Father - By Mallory Kane Page 0,49

followed him. He wasn’t sure if following the kidnapper was the best idea, especially in a decade-old minivan, but he couldn’t pass up the chance that the kidnapper might lead him to where he was keeping Max.

The kidnapper got on Interstate 10 and took the Airline Highway exit. He was heading to his hideout. Travis was sure of it. Now he had a decision to make. He was going to follow the man and he would find out where he was keeping Max. But what was he going to do then?

He knew how to move through deep forest or open desert nearly undetectably. With the proper equipment, he could pick locks and cut window glass without making a sound. But he held little hope that those skills would help him. Even if he could sneak into the place where they were holding Max, even if he could neutralize the kidnapper and his partner, how would he approach his son? To Max, he would be nothing more than another stranger.

Suddenly, the green sedan sped up, darting from one lane to another, avoiding cars. Travis’s pulse sped up. The kidnapper had spotted him. He gunned the van’s engine, but there was a dismaying lack of pickup. Still, he floored it. He wasn’t going to lose the kidnapper if he could help it. He watched the speedometer creep higher, too slowly, and listened to the van’s engine struggle. Ahead of him, the sedan was putting more and more distance between them. Airline Highway was a long, straight road, but as the sedan grew smaller and smaller, it became harder for Travis to keep his eye on it.

The van’s engine was straining. The speedometer appeared to be stalled at ninety. Travis focused on the road ahead, but now he couldn’t spot the dark green sedan at all. He didn’t give up, though. If he couldn’t see the sedan, he was certain the sedan couldn’t see him. So he kept driving, past Kenner, past the airport and farther, into LaPlace, then on until he saw the signs for the Maurepas Swamp. He slowed the van down and took the next exit.

Stopping on the side of the road, he slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Damn it!” he shouted, then pressed his palms against his eyes. He knew there was no way the van could have ever caught the sedan, but still he felt as though he’d failed his son. As though he’d failed Kate. All he could do now was head back. As he drove, he mentally cataloged each exit, and pinpointed the spot where he’d lost sight of the kidnapper’s car. He had driven almost thirty miles by the time he reached the swamp, where he decided it was useless to go farther. He doubted the hideout was in there, so it had to be one of the exits after the point where Travis had lost him.

He drove to the warehouse and parked the van, then went upstairs to use Dawson’s computer. Using Google Maps, he marked the exits that the kidnapper might have used, then forwarded a copy to Dawson and printed a copy for himself.

Within a couple minutes, Dawson called him. “So what am I looking at here?” he asked.

“I followed the kidnapper this afternoon. He went out Airline Highway. Of course I lost him around the Highway 51 exit, since his car was a whole lot faster than the van.”

“Did he get off at 51?”

“No. He was still going. That was the point at which I lost sight of him. I drove on until I entered the Maurepas Swamp, but after a few minutes of driving and not seeing a single side road, I figured if he was hiding in there, I’d never find him. I guess I could have gotten off at every exit and searched for his car, but that’d be like a needle in a haystack, so I thought it might be better to get this information to you.”

“I’m glad you did. Dusty’s almost ready to make the call. But we’ve got to get everything coordinated. We can’t afford to waste our only chance,” Dawson said. “We’ll coordinate from the warehouse.”

“Okay,” Travis said. “When?” He was ready, but he needed Kate to be involved. She was furious with him for going behind her back, but if she knew they were ready to close in on the kidnapper, she’d want to be there. She’d really hate him if they went in and she wasn’t there