Domino Effect (2019 Edition)

my men will secure her for the trip. We leave in twenty. We’re expecting some turbulence, and I wouldn’t want to be responsible for damaging a Pan-head.”
She smiled at his knowledge and nodded. “We have a few minutes if you’d like to take her for a spin.” She held the keys for him to take.
A grin cracked his stony façade as he fisted the keys. “I guess we have time.”
She could tell by the way he sat the bike he was an experienced rider. She turned and faced Frank before he even kick-started the Harley.
“I’ve never seen you let anyone ride your bike before,” Frank said.
She shrugged. “It’s just a bike, and it gives us a few minutes to talk before I leave.”
Frank leaned against his car. “What have you been working on in the car?”
“If it was your daughter that was taken, and you had audio and video from the kidnapper, what’s the first thing you would have done?”
She watched as Frank thought for a moment. It didn’t take long before his posture straightened. “I would have had the audio and video separated and searched for clues to where it was taken.”
“Exactly. Background noises and such. When I watched that video, I knew I was missing something. I used the software Charlie installed on my laptop to do just that.” She pulled the clone out of her backpack. “Watch it again and tell me what you see.”
“I’ve viewed it more times than I can count, considering our lack of time, what specifically am I looking for?”
“Just before the video ends—”
“Where Becca tries to speak?”
She used her finger to move the video forward. “Yes, right there.”
The video played. “Say hi to Daddy, Princess.” They heard Becca’s muffled voice just before the video ended.
She watched Frank squint. She could tell he didn’t notice what she did.
“Up until that point,” she tapped the phone with her nail, “the video is still, no shaking or unwarranted movement. Just before it ends, it gets jittery. What does that tell you?”
Frank replayed the last few seconds. His eyes widened. “Something unscripted happened. The kidnapper was startled.”
“That’s what I think. That’s what was bothering me.”
“You separated the audio?”
She pulled out a tape recorder. “I separated the kidnapper’s voice from any background noises. Everything in the background is quiet until the end. Listen.”
Frank took the recorder and held it up to his ear. “I hear what sounds like a door open.”
“What else?”
Frank listened again. “Son of a bitch. I hear seagulls and the sound of a boat engine.”
She nodded. “I also played with the video. It seemed grainy considering today’s technology; even for a phone, the focus should have been better. Look at this.” She opened another video on the phone. It was of the same room, but the dimensions were different. And the video was clear, no longer grainy.
“The room is much smaller than it appeared the first time.” Frank’s pitch rose with surprise.
“I’m not sure, but the kidnapper may have been in the cabin of a boat, maybe a yacht. If they’re not on the water, they’re next to it, and the quarters are tight. They wanted anyone viewing this to think they were in a larger space than they are.”
She heard the sound of her bike getting closer. “You know the technology the Secret Service has at their disposal. They or the president must have thought to disseminate the original video. The question is, why didn’t anyone mention any of this?”
“Hell of a question.”
The major, smiling ear-to-ear, rolled the bike next to Sin.
She grinned back, talking out of the side of her mouth to Frank, “Get the truth out of Lancaster. I’ll do the same from the agents in Key West.”
“Amazing piece of machinery you have here, Agent.”
“I’m glad you like her. This is one of the few places you get to open her up. By the whine of the engine, I’d say you had her close to red-lined.”
Sterling laughed, handing back the keys.
“Walk with me,” Frank said, addressing Sin. He stepped around his car, opened the truck, and took out a gun case. “I had these made for you, sort of a condolence gift. I was going to give them to you at Charlie’s service, but—”
She opened the case. Inside were a new Sig Sauer .45 caliber semi-automatic and a Sig p365 9mm designed for concealed carry, both with pearl-grips. “They’re beautiful,” she said, tracing her hand over the pistols, “but why now?”
Frank pointed to her side-arms, two Colt .45 revolvers strung over her hips by way of a western-style holster. “You’ve been off the books ever since I traded your shield for the one you’re carrying. You can’t go gallivanting around the Keys or anywhere else with those hanging by your side. These you can conceal.” He pulled an envelope out of the gun case. “This is a civilian concealed weapons permit, just in case you need it.”
She barely heard him. She was busy checking out the guns and especially the ammo. Each pistol had five extra magazines, fully loaded. She flipped a bullet out of the end of one of the mags. “Damn, Frank, these are fang-faced bullets. Not exactly government issue.”
“Like that’s ever been one of your highest priorities. I put them in there because if you go shooting up the Keys or God-knows-where this case will take you, I only want the bad guy shot. They’ll disintegrate as soon as they hit their target. This way when you shoot the balls off a field mouse, we only lose the mouse, not the field.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re all right, Frank. No matter what anyone says.”
Taking off her gun belt, she placed it in the saddlebag of her bike. She then holstered the .45 inside the waistband of her jeans and strapped the 9mm to her boot before pulling the leg of her jeans over it. The rest of the magazines went inside her backpack. She then turned back to her bike.
“One more question,” Frank