Aztec Treasure Ch. 21-30

"I've already set her up with everything she needs," I added. "She's going to love the computer setup; everything is adaptable for how she's sitting in the bed or chair, and it's as powerful as mine."

"Good. Claire has a real talent for tracing things, and I'm sure she's raring to get back to work. Donovan, too." Frank had brought his friend into DHS as a consultant, meaning he could stay here with Claire and not take a leave of absence. Claire was still FBI on medical leave. Officially, she was only using her computer to play computer games and surf the internet. That meant the Franks couldn't ask her to do anything, as it might jeopardize her benefits. Me? I was a friend, and we could do whatever we wanted.

"Anything else," Chase asked.

"There was a development in the Portman shooting," Frank said. "A few days ago, Christian's assistant received an envelope in her mail at home. It was all of the material Christian had on Maria's home and her estate; he must have mailed it after I warned him. The FBI has it now."

"Will the money go to Maria," I asked?

"I'm pushing for that, but it's up to the US Attorney."

"Have a new attorney set up the funds in an account for Maria. I can help her get the money without the Feds tracing it to her." Moving money around was one of my talents.

Chase nodded. "If the Feds hold it up, transfer funds from the Pack account. I don't want her doing something stupid because she's running out of money."

"I'll take care of everything," I said.

"Anything else?"

"A party," I said. People looked at me like I was crazy; it had only been a few months since our kind came out to humans, and we still had gates and armed guards at the entrances. "We can't hole up like some cult, people. We live among humans, and we had good relations before the unmasking. We need to reinforce those relations with our neighbors and our friends."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"Invite the property owners around the lake, local law enforcement, and the Federal agents who assisted to a party. We get the grills going, have some games and tours, and open up our pool for an afternoon."

"Rori likes the idea, but she's always up for a party," Chase said with a smile. "When?"

"Before summer," Vic said. "Maybe the end of April or early May? We need some time to set it up and send out the invitations."

"We should do two parties," Teri said. "One for the people on the lake, and another jointly with Oxbow Lake for law enforcement, local politicians, and Federal agents. There are hundreds of homes on the lake, so we have to keep things to a manageable number."

"Good idea," I said. "As long as the kids get invited. Our pool is the best outreach tool this Pack has."

"Sounds good. Everyone have a good weekend, and Luna willing, it will be quiet."

Ch. 25

Maria Meztli's (aka Esmerelda del Rio now) POV

Northwest Park, Austin, Minnesota

Minnesota could go from warm sunshine to a blizzard in one day, so when you got a warm Saturday in early springtime, you took advantage of it. The grass was still brown, but the park still had swings and slides for Maritza to play on.

I'd picked Austin as my next hideout for a few reasons. It wasn't a big town, only twenty-five thousand people, and it was diverse enough for me to fit in. Around twenty percent of the population was Hispanic, drawn by an economy centered around Hormel and Quality Pork Producers' processing plants. No one looked twice when a Hispanic girl of eighteen showed up with her baby and rented the basement of a house with cash. Unlike Denver, it was cheap; I was paying five hundred a month in rent with utilities included. It even had cable and internet.

Geographically, it was a rural area. I could get to Rochester in an hour or the Twin Cities in ninety minutes if I needed a bigger town. Located a bit east of Interstate 35 on Interstate 90, it also meant I could get to Arrowhead in under five hours if I had to take them up on their offer. In the meantime, I'd enjoy the old neighborhoods, the parks, and the Spam Museum.

Yes, spam. I'd eaten cases of the stuff when I was hiding out in Denver.

We hadn't done much since moving in. I'd shopped at Wal-Mart for supplies to last a few weeks, including a stroller for the girl. We had to get outside, and there was no good place to let our cats out. This part of Minnesota was flat farmlands, not the rugged mountains I'd played in as a child. On the good side, a few neighborhood parks were within walking distance, and no one looked twice at a Mom pushing a stroller along the sidewalk.

I'd walked the six blocks to the McDonald's off Fourteenth Street, where we ate lunch before going in back to the neighborhood park. It wasn't a big one; a single baseball diamond, a small pavilion in case it rained, and a playground with swings and slides. Maritza was giggling as I put her inside the seat of the kiddie swing, which turned to screams of joy as I gave her a push.

She didn't get tired of the swing for almost fifteen minutes, and then it was on to the smallest of the slides. I would lift her to the top, she'd slide down to the bottom, and we'd repeat. When my girl tired of that, she started climbing on the playground while I sat nearby watching.

If I didn't have my Jaguar hearing, I never would have heard the women talking as they walked by on the sidewalk. They weren't talking loudly; in fact, they were whispering to each other, but since they were looking my way, I heard them. "I'm telling you, that's her! That's Maria Meztli," the younger woman said.

"What would she be doing here?"

"I don't know, but she has the baby with her. I'm going to get a picture so they know I'm not making it up." I didn't turn towards them or let them know I heard them talking about me. Instead, I turned to watch Maritza climbing around. I was shocked when the younger woman walked halfway to the play area, her phone recording the whole thing.

I stood up suddenly, making her jump before she turned back to the sidewalk. As they took off down the sidewalk, I picked up Maritza and carried her back to the stroller. "PLAY," she cried as I strapped her in.

I gave a low growl, one that meant danger. That quieted Maritza long enough for me to get us out of the park before anyone else showed up. I focused all of my senses, looking for threats as I hurried back home.

I took Maritza out and put the stroller into the back of the minivan. As I closed the hatch, I tried to figure out what went wrong out there. It didn't make any sense; I was a nobody, so why would some nosy bitches in Minnesota recognize me and film me? How did they know my name?

I had to leave, and I had to get out of this town fast. I buckled Maritza into her car seat, carrying it inside and leaving her by the door while I got our things. Just like the cabin, I'd never truly unpacked. I zipped up the bags, put the dirty clothes in a garbage bag, then packed the food and kitchen supplies into boxes and coolers. I had it loaded into the spacious minivan inside of ten minutes and went back inside to get my adoptive daughter.

When I came back out, a black SUV was blocking the driveway. A female werewolf got out, her hands up and empty. "Frank Grimes sent me, Maria. We need to get you out of here."

I kept the car seat behind me, pushing back the urge to shift and flee. "Who is looking for me?"

"Everyone," she said. "They may know where you live, what your name is, even what you drive. We're begging you; let us help you before it's too late."

I looked into her eyes, and I believed her. "What about my car? My apartment?"

"Let Tom handle that. We need to leave, and I mean NOW."

"Fine," I said. "What do I need to do?"

"Get into the car with her while I grab the base of the car seat and hand him your keys."

Tom took the keys and got out the other side. I got in the back, setting Maritza's carrier in place while I waited for her to move the base over from my minivan. She set it in place, then closed the door and backed out of the driveway. "Leave Maritza on the floor until you have the car seat secured," she told me as she started driving down the road. "I'm Meghan, by the way. Tom and I are warriors at Arrowhead Pack. Put this on." She handed me a brightly-colored hijab.

I pulled it over my head, glad she'd thought of something like this. The Islamic headdress left only my eyes exposed. I finished attaching the straps before I snapped the carrier into place, then I sat in the seat on the other side and buckled up. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"We've been tracking you the whole time, just in case you needed help," Meghan said as she turned onto Fourteenth Street. "We were in the McDonald's lot, using a parabolic microphone to listen in when we heard the women talking. As soon as I reported it to my Alphas, they sent us in to get you."

I let out a low growl, upset that Frank had people following me after saying I was free to go. "I should have known," I finally said. "He let me go too easily."

"We aren't kidnappers, and our orders were to watch and protect you without being seen," Meghan told me. "Even though you turned down our sanctuary offer, it didn't lessen the danger you faced. Nobody expected what happened this morning, though."

"What happened?"

We were waiting at a stoplight near I-90, so she took out her phone and opened up the browser. "Take a look," she said as she handed it back.

My eyes got wide as I saw my high school photograph, next to a picture of me carrying Maritza back into the United States in my jaguar form. "DANGEROUS WERECAT RUNNING LOOSE IN USA," the headline read. "$50,000 REWARD."

"What is this," I said as I looked up again.

"It's from the Human Purity League website, but the major news networks picked up the story, and it has been getting a lot of air time today," Meghan replied. "The HPL is the most active of the anti-were groups. They act as a clearinghouse for information and rumors; since they are never directly implicated in attacks, we can't shut them down. The more dangerous groups listen to them, and this takes it to a new level."

I skimmed the article, shocked at how much information they had. According to the webpage, werejaguars were dangerous, associated with a violent biker gang and the drug trade. There were other details; a family tree showing "DEAD" or "IN PRISON" for many of my relatives, pictures of the Denver SOT clubhouse, and even a photo of Maritza at eight months. The reward was for 'information leading to the current location of Maria Meztli' and included a website and a toll-free phone number. "The reward is for information only," I said. "Why?"

"These guys are smart," Meghan said as we headed west on I-90. "If they said 'information leading to the capture of,' then they are soliciting kidnapping. That's a federal crime. It would be even worse if they said something like 'wanted dead or alive.' This way, they can say they just wanted to know where you were so they could keep everyone safe from you."

"Could they hurt me?"

"Chairman Colletta said it isn't something to take a chance on. For the werewolf treaty, she explicitly clarified that werewolves have all the rights of humans. I could see a defense attorney arguing that the murder statute doesn't apply to werejaguars, especially if they kill you in cat form."

I shuddered; these people were nuts. Meghan was right to pull me out of there. A sighting could lead to a crowd, a crowd to a mob, and a mob to a lynching. Fear was a powerful thing, and this article was peddling fear. "Where did they get all this?"

"Frank thinks this is part of a CIA operation. They don't have the resources to scour the country looking for you, so they've recruited tens of thousands of people to do it for them. When they get good information, they'll send people in." She smiled. "Don't worry about it. Spider Monkey is fucking with them big time right now."

"Spider Monkey?"

She nodded. "She's a human and the mate of our Beta. She's also the most gifted hacker out there. That website to report sightings? She's already crashed it after sending in thousands of false sighting reports. She's got dozens of people calling in tips as well. Even if that woman gets through, her report will join thousands of others."

"Damn." Maritza was falling asleep, and the adrenalin crash was upon me. I leaned back, forcing myself to relax. "What is the plan now?"

"We're driving straight to Arrowhead. Tom needs another few hours to get as much DNA and physical evidence of your presence out of your apartment, just in case someone checks. I'm not too worried about that because the authorities aren't looking for you."

"What about my car? All my things?"

"Tom will get it transferred to a car we're sending down, then he'll take your minivan to a chop shop in the cities to get scrapped."

Dammit! "I just got it," I whined.

"It's under Esmerelda's name. If someone gets to your landlord or has a good description of your car, it could lead back to you. Don't worry; we'll find something better than a minivan for you when it's safe for you to drive again."

Safe to drive again. "How long will that be," I asked.

"I don't know," Meghan said. "Get some sleep if you want. We should get to Arrowhead before the dinner buffet shuts down for the night. Tonight is Ribeye night, and it's wonderful."

I might as well sleep while Maritza does. I grabbed a blanket from behind the seat, wedged it against the window, and closed my eyes.

Ch. 26

CIA Station Chief Richard Todd's POV

CIA Safe House, South of Ottawa, Canada

"New intercept is coming through now, sir."

"Thank you." I moved over to his station, looking over his shoulder as the computer decrypted the file. It had been a frustrating week for the Foggy Bottom brass. How tough could it be to bring in a 17-year-old girl and a baby? Apparently, tough enough to leave two in the ground, one in the hospital and two in Federal custody. Frank Grimes and his werewolf buddies made us look bad, and the heat was on.

Our break came when the National Security Agency managed to break the encryption Frank and the Packs used for their cellphone communications. The codes had changed five days ago, so we only had the numbers involved, times, and durations. When we started listening in, it was clear that they had eyes on Maria. The calls came in at the same time every night and never from a place within fifty miles of the previous report. Their people in the field removed the batteries between calls, taking away the ability to track them via cellphone towers. They were good, but they put too much confidence in the expensive military-grade encryption they were using. The NSA made it a priority, and their supercomputers cracked it in two days.

Their conversations didn't provide us any clues about where Maria was hiding; from the pattern of calls, we knew it was somewhere in southern Minnesota, southwestern Wisconsin, or northern Iowa. Frank Grimes and Chase Nygaard called them Tom and Meghan. A quick check showed Tom and Meghan Nichols were mated members of the Arrowhead PackLake Superior's North Shore.

The Deputy Director- Covert Operations came up with a plan. We knew the people involved, but we didn't know where they were. "When the game is hiding in the thicket, you need to flush it out," he told the five of us on the call. "Frightened game will bolt for the nearest cover. Since Arrowhead is the closest Pack, that is where they will run. When they do, we'll be waiting."

"How do we flush her out of hiding," Peter asked.

"Simple. We make Maria believe that hiding is no longer a viable strategy." Yesterday, the plan went into effect. We used the information on Maria, the paranoia about Were-people, and the promise of a large reward to turn the country into our eyes and ears. We put the reward offer out on social media and pushed it through the websites opposed to the Werewolf treaty. Since we knew she was in the Upper Midwest, our people targeted the advertising, leveraged media coverage, and invested heavily in social media.

For fifty grand in cash, people would sell their mother.

The tip lines didn't go as well as we had hoped. Cyberattacks, ranging from spoofing to denial of service attacks, slowed or stopped the tips. Our phone lines got swamped, with thousands of reports coming in every hour. If we needed that intelligence, it would be tough to find.

We didn't. All we had to do was scare the wolves enough to bring the cats home.

"The decryption finished, sir," the technician told me. Under the rules, the CIA couldn't listen in on intercepts of US citizens. However, the CANADIENS could, and there were no restrictions in sharing that information once it came to them. Since Canadian Intelligence couldn't break the encryption, they could say they didn't know the content under oath. The Canadian military was very interested in werewolves, as they had several Packs there already and a Russian Pack moving in.

I put on the headphones as he played the audio file. "Tom."

"It's Frank. We've got a big problem. Someone put out a fifty-k reward for Maria's location. It's all over the place, Tom. We've got to pull her in."

"Will she come with us?"

"You need to convince Maria because SOMEONE will have seen her. Spidey's doing all she can to mess with the websites, but it won't last."

"What if she runs?"

"Convince her that running makes her more vulnerable. Her best bet is to let us sneak her in."

There was a pause. "Maria is watching Maritza play at the park now, and I don't want to do this in public," Tom said. "We'll follow her home."

"Call me when you have her."

"Yes, sir. We're on it." The call ended as I smiled. I went into my office, opening up the secure line to Langley. I informed the Deputy Director of the conversation. "Good. Our people will be waiting for them north of Duluth. The vehicle registered to Tom Nichols is a maroon 2018 Honda Pilot, Minnesota license number NVY 287."

"Understood, sir." It didn't take long to get an update. The next call was at 2:05 Central time. Tom reported that Meghan had the two cats with her and should arrive at Arrowhead around seven PM. He was cleaning up her apartment and would follow a few hours later. I quickly passed the information to the DD-Covert Operations and went back to the rest of my work.

Cats may have nine lives, but the third time is the charm.

Meghan Nichols' POV

Interstate 35 North, Minnesota

Just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.

The events in Austin made me nervous about security. It was probably nothing, but my gut told me it was possible that Maria's landlord, or her neighbors, hadn't seen our car when we went into her driveway. It was enough to make me want some help. After all, when your Spidey Sense is tingling, call for Spider Monkey! I dialed her on the emergency burner phone. "It's me," I said. "I'm nervous about coming home."

"You shouldn't be; Mom will love them," she said.

"I just have a feeling something bad is going to happen."

She didn't say anything for a few seconds. "I'll send someone down to help."

"Thank you." I hung up and focused on the drive north through the cities.

It was two hours later when I got a mental send from Frank Grimes. "Where are you at?"

"I just passed Stacy on I-35," I sent back. "Thanks for coming."

"Better to be safe. Take the Highway 95 exit in North Branch. Go to the Holiday Station on the northeast corner of the intersection. Pull into the pumps behind a white panel van from Northwoods Catering. Have Maria exit on the pump side while we block the view from the store. We'll have the side door open for her. Brent and Laura will exit out the back with bags and get into your car while you're pumping gas. I'll follow you out after you pay and use the bathroom."