Jack Ryan 12 - The Teeth of the Tiger Read Free Page B

effective interviewer. The skill took years to develop, though Caruso thought he was pretty smart, and his college degree was in psychology.
    Look for a car with a little girl in it,
    
    he told himself,
    
     one
    
    not
    
     in a car seat?
    
    he wondered. It might give her a better way to look out of the car, and maybe wave for help . . . So, no, the subject would probably have her tied up, cuffed, or wrapped with duct tape, and probably gagged.
    
     Some little girl, helpless and terrified.
    
    The thought made his hands tighten on the wheel. The radio crackled.
    “Birmingham Base to all '7' units. We have a report that the '7' suspect might be driving a white utility van, probably a Ford, white in color, a little dirty.
    
    
     Alabama
    
    
     tags. If you see a vehicle matching that description, call it in, and we'll get the local PD to check it out.”
    Which meant, don't flash your gum-ball light and pull him over yourself unless you have to, Caruso thought. It was time to do some thinking.
    If I were one of those creatures, where would I be . . . ?
    
    Caruso slowed down. He thought . . . a place with decent road access. Not a main road per se . . . a decent secondary road, with a turn off to something more private. Easy in, easy out. A place where the neighbors couldn't see or hear what he's up to . . .
    He picked up his microphone. “Caruso to
    
    
     Birmingham
    
    
     Base.”
    “Yeah, Dominic,” responded the agent on the radio desk. The FBI radios were encrypted, and couldn't be listened into by anyone without a good descrambler.
    “The white van. How solid is that?”
    “An elderly woman says that when she was out getting her paper, she saw a little girl, right description, talking to some guy next to a white van. The possible subject is male Caucasian, undetermined age, no other description. Ain't much, Dom, but it's all we got,” Special Agent Sandy Ellis reported.
    “How many child abusers in the area?” Caruso asked next.
    “A total of nineteen on the computer. We got people talking to all of them. Nothing developed yet. All we got, man.”
    “Roger,
    
    
     Sandy
    
    
    . Out.”
    More driving, more scanning. He wondered if this was anything like his brother Brian had experienced in
    
    
     Afghanistan
    
    
    : alone, hunting the enemy . . . He started looking for dirt paths off the road, maybe for one with recent tire tracks.
    He looked down at the wallet-sized photo again. A sweet-faced little girl, just learning the ABC's. A child for whom the world has always been a safe place, ruled by Mommy and Daddy, who went to Sunday school and made caterpillars out of egg cartons and pipe cleaners, and learned to sing “Jesus loves me, this I know / 'Cause the Bible tells me so . . .” His head swiveled left and right. There, about a hundred yards away, a dirt road leading into the woods. As he slowed, he saw that the path took a gentle S-curve, but the trees were thin, and he could see . . .
    . . . cheap frame house . . . and next to it . . . the corner of a van . . . ? But this one was more beige than white . . .
    Well, the little old lady who'd seen the little girl and the truck . . . how far away had it been . . . sunlight or shadows . . . ? So many things, so many inconstants, so many variables. As good as the
    
    
     FBI
    
    
    
    
     Academy
    
    
     was, it couldn't prepare you for everything
    —hell, not even close to everything. That's what they told you, too—told you that you had to trust your instinct and experience . . .
    But Caruso had hardly a year's experience.
    Still . . .
    He stopped the car.
    “Caruso to
    
    
     Birmingham
    
    
     Base.”
    “Yeah, Dominic,” Sandy Ellis responded.
    Caruso radioed in his location. “I'm going 10-7 to walk in and take a look.”
    “Roger that, Dom. Do you request backup?”
    “Negative,
    
    
     Sandy
    
    
    . It's probably nothing, just going to knock on the door and talk to the occupant”
    “Okay, I'll stand by.”
    Caruso didn't have a portable