I lean forward, pressing the scope to my eye as if that’s going to give me a better view or something. But then a man in a gray suit comes out. He’s bald, thin, and wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses. He and one of the gunmen confer for a moment before the black tarp is removed from the pallet.
“Jackpot,” I mutter.
The pallet is stacked high with bricks of white powder that, if I had to guess, contain either coke or heroin. I’m no expert on the street drug trade, but there has to be millions of dollars in drugs on that pallet. My boy Agajanian is moving some serious weight.
Fascinated, I watch as the bald man produces a small box. Like I said, I’m no expert, but I have enough experience dealing with shady assholes that I know it’s a chemistry kit he’s going to use to test the purity of the goods. I watch as he does his thing and holds the vial of liquid up to the light. A wide smile crosses his face, and he nods. Apparently, it’s good quality stuff.
He seals the bag again and replaces the brick on the pallet, gesturing for the men to take it away. They re-wrap the black tarp around it, then push the pallet jacks down a ramp and to the yard where a windowless and unmarked black van is waiting. I watch as they wave for a forklift driver to come to them. I put down my rifle and quickly pack up my things. I need to move.
Retracing my steps back along the top of the cargo containers, I scale down and slip back through the hole I’d cut into the chain link fence that surrounds the shipping yard. At first, I was surprised their security isn’t beefier, given what apparently passes regularly through the warehouse. But I figure they didn’t want to draw attention to the yard by making it look like they needed the added security.
They’re hiding it in plain sight. Most people wouldn’t give much thought to a commercial trucking company. It’s something we see every day. Our eyes simply pass over it, our minds dismissing the big semi trucks as unimportant. But if they put up high, thick walls, and hired armed guards to roam the yard, people might begin to wonder what back there is so valuable. It’s smart.
By the time I get back to my car and climb inside, I see the black van exiting the shipping yard. I give it a ten count, then fire up the engine and pull away, following at a discreet distance. These guys, unlike Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber back in town, probably will be looking for a tail. With the Feds looking to hang a case on them, they’ll be cautious. So I do what I can to be as unobtrusive as possible, hanging back and keeping cars between us when I can.
They take a circuitous route from the shipping yard to downtown, but I stay with them, always hanging back at the periphery. And when they turn into the parking lot that serves Agajanian’s social club, backing the van to the delivery doors in the back, I stop along the curb a good distance away and pull out my scope.
I watch them offload the pallet and nod to myself, smugly satisfied that I’ve been right about Agajanian needing total control and using his club as his clearing house. The smart and more prudent man would use an offsite location that couldn’t be tied to him in any way. But Agajanian doesn’t trust the people working for him, and so puts everything at risk to maintain control.
Okay, that’s one nail in Agajanian’s coffin. Now I just need to figure out where and how to hammer in the others.
Chapter Ten
I spend the following afternoon poring over the blueprints, looking for weak points to use for ingress. I hear the familiar chime on my laptop of an incoming video chat request and quickly open it, relieved to see that it’s Justice and not Delta. I need a couple more days here to finish this, and I’m not ready yet for my next assignment.
“What did you get?” I ask the instant her face materializes on my screen.
“Well good afternoon to you too,” she chirps.
I grin. “Well, good afternoon, Justice. How are you?” I ask. “Now, what did you get?”
“Have you ever thought about trying yoga?” she asks. “You’re always so tense and uptight. It’s not good for you, you know.”
“You know what makes me tense and uptight?”
“Do tell.”
“Smartasses.”
She laughs. “Hey, I’m just trying to help you live a little longer.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Somebody has to.”
Despite my best efforts to remain, as she calls it, tense and uptight, Justice makes me laugh. She’s got an energy that’s infectious. Annoying as that is. It’s just that when I’m on a roll, when I have something cooking, I like to see it through. I don’t like to break my momentum with things like laughter and banter. If that makes me tense and uptight, so be it. It’s what works for me. But I will admit that my intensity can sometimes make me forget my social niceties, and not everybody is the same way.
“So, to answer your question, from what I’ve been able to find, the Agajanian Social Club is outfitted with a top of the line security system,” she starts. “The Platinum T420 package from Diamond Security. It’s a pretty beefy system, Echo.”
“Of course it is,” I nod. “They need top of the line stuff to protect what’s inside.”
“Well, you’re looking at infrared camera monitoring, air temperature monitoring, random pressure plates in the floor,” she lists off. “The windows are all wired with vibration detection tech, and all interior doors hooked up to the system require a keycard, hand, and retina scans to access.”
“I’ve got a feeling there’s only one door that’ll be hooked into the system,” I mutter. “The one I need to get through.”
“The good news is that if it really is just the one door wired into the system, you won’t have to waste a lot of time searching,” she says brightly.
I chuckle. “Always a silver lining with you.”
“It’s just who I am.”
I tap my finger against my chin as I sit back in the chair and think about it. I mean, she is right in that it will eliminate a lot of unnecessary searching to locate the door I need to get through. At least it will if I’m right, and the door to his clearing house is the only one wired to the system. I’m relatively certain I’m right, though. I just can’t see him wiring up a door to a stock room like that. As I turn it all over in my mind, an idea starts to form.
“Is there any way you can hack into the system and shut it down?” I ask.
She purses her lips, twirling her finger around her hair as she looks off into the distance and thinks about it. Finally, she looks back at the computer screen.
“It’s—technically possible. But it wouldn’t be easy; I can tell you that much. Diamond Security is notoriously tough to crack,” she says slowly. “That’s why you see most banks, jewelry stores, and art galleries use their stuff. They’ve got top of the line tech and tech people to back it up.”
“But surely you’re better than their people, right?”
She grins. “Well, of course I am,” she says. “There’s nobody better.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
A small frown creases her lips as she looks at me. I can tell she wants to say something, and I have a feeling I know what it’s going to be. But, it’s better to tear the bandage off and let her get it out rather than let it fester. Or in this case, continue to fester.
“Go ahead,” I sigh. “Spill it.”
She laughs softly. “You know me so well already.”
“You’re easy to read.”
“You didn’t say that when we first met.”
A wry grin touches my lips. “That’s true.”
“That means I trust you, Echo,” she says. “And there are very few people in this world I trust. I can count them on one hand and have fingers left over.”
“I’m honored.”
“And you should be. That’s why I need to try to talk you out of this,” she continues. “I mean, you can still walk away from this clean. But if we do this, if you go into the club, you’re crossing a line you may not be able to walk back over. If you survive it, that is.”
I laugh
. “I appreciate your concern for me, Justice. I really do,” I tell her. “But I need to do this. Not just for me and my own motivations. I need to do this for everybody in that community. Narek Agajanian is hurting too many people. He’s got to be taken down.”
She sighs. “I know, I know,” she says. “But why does it have to be you?”
“Because I’m here,” I respond. “And nobody else is going to do it.”
Justice nods. I know she understands what I’m saying. In many respects, it’s the same thing she’s doing. We’re both answering that sense of duty that permeates our very souls and guides our actions.
“I’m going to need a little time to find a way to crack the system,” she says.
“Do what you need to do,” I nod. “And thank you. I appreciate your help.”
“You got it.”
Chapter Eleven
The sun is shining, and it’s warm. It’s an ideal day, and yet, I can’t help but feel like the storm is coming. And that when it inevitably breaks, it’s going to be nasty. Taking advantage of the sunshine, I find myself sitting in the sculpture park again, staring at the giant spoon and cherry. Again. I have no idea why, but with nothing else to do, it kind of called out to me. So like an idiot, I answered the call, and here I sit.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” he asks.
I grin as Arthur sits down on the bench beside me. Together, we stare at the giant sculpture again like we did on that first evening. Except this time, rather than adversaries, it feels more like we’re on the same side. Fighting for a common cause. I wouldn’t call us teammates, but we certainly want the same thing.
“How’d you find me?” I ask.
“You forget, son, I used to do this work too.”
A rueful grin touches my lips. “In your former life, were you with the Bureau or the Agency?”
“What do you think?”
“I’d say Bureau,” I answer. “I don’t get Agency spook vibes from you. You seem a little more grounded than that.”
He gives me a nod. “Twenty-seven years with the Bureau,” he tells me. “You’ve got good instincts.”
“They rarely steer me wrong.”
“Always a good thing. It’s one of the reasons I pulled the pin,” he tells me. “I got to a point where I couldn’t trust my instincts anymore. Made a couple bad decisions because of it. It’s gonna haunt me for the rest of my days.”
I nod. “We’ve all got things that are gonna stick with us,” I say. “But I guess that’s the good thing about losing my memory—I can’t remember what they are right now. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you a single thing about any op or assignment I’ve ever had. Maybe that’s for the best.”
I think again about Delta’s warning. Doors that I don’t want opened. And here is Arthur, holding the keys to some of those doors. Is that a risk I want to take?
It dawns on me that Arthur and I are somewhat opposites of each other. He found a way out while I’m on my way in. He has all sorts of names and identities to use, and I don’t even know my own. He’s got a lifetime of memories and instincts—and regrets—that he still wrestles with every single day. And all I have are the barest whispers of flashbacks.
He chuckles. “It’s true. We’ve all seen and done shit that’s gonna be with us forever,” he says. “But the day will come when you start second guessing yourself and can’t trust your instincts. And when it does, do yourself a favor and pull the pin.”
“Plan on it,” I nod. “If I can’t trust my instincts, I can’t trust myself. And if I can’t trust myself, I can’t do this job.”
“True enough.”
We both fall silent for a moment, and I start to wonder why he went to the trouble of tracking me down like this. It’s not like we’ve got any real history between us, nor are we friends. As I study his face, it seems like he has something to say. So I decide to wait him out and let him play this how he likes.
“You ain’t got to do this, you know,” he says. “You can just walk away. Probably should walk away.”
I shake my head. “Been over this, man. Can’t do it.”
“Listen, I never meant for you to get in deep with a guy like Agajanian,” he sighs. “I honestly thought it was just street thugs.”
I nod. “I know you did. Agajanian’s been smart. Covered his tracks and made sure his fingerprints were invisible,” I say. “Those clowns are just another layer of protection for him.”
“Yeah, they are,” he replies. “I wanted you to bust those two up, I ain’t gonna lie. But Agajanian is a whole different animal. And I don’t want to—”
“I’m choosing to do this. And I’m going into this with my eyes wide open,” I respond. “I don’t like guys like Agajanian, and I’m looking forward to taking him out.”
Arthur sighs and scrubs his face with his hands. “I don’t want to be responsible for what happens if he gets the drop on you, man.”
“You’re not,” I tell him. “This is my decision. My choice.”
He looks at me; his expression resigned. “I tracked you down out here to give you the information I have,” he says. “You can take it and go. You don’t have to get mixed up in this. Honestly, this is our fight. Not yours.”
“You can tell me after I’m done,” I say. “Maybe it wasn’t my fight before, but it is now.”
“No way I can talk you out of it?”
A rueful chuckle passes my lips. If I was a weaker, less confident man, between Justice and Arthur both trying to talk me out of doing this, they’d be giving me a complex. It’s like neither of them think me capable of taking Agajanian down. He’s just a man. A man who hasn’t had the training I have. I may not recall getting that training, but it’s apparently so ingrained in me, I don’t even have to think about it. He may be tough, but I’m tougher.
“I didn’t think so,” Arthur says, sounding regretful.
“It’s gonna work out, Arthur,” I assure him. “I’ve got him by the balls. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
I run down everything I saw at the truck yard last night and tell him what my next move is. He looks skeptical about the whole thing. He looks like a man ordering me to my death. But there’s nothing I can do to ease his mind. He surprises me by reaching out and taking hold of my arm. Arthur turns it over and points to a spot near the elbow joint. I look at him questioningly.
“You want to know how the Tower is trackin’ you, yeah?” he mutters. “Subdermal tracker right beneath the skin there.”
I touch the spot he’s pointing at. My eyes widen when I feel a small lump beneath the skin. I’ve been walking around this whole time assuming they’ve got trackers on the phone, car, and computer they issued me. It never occurred to me that they’d be using a subdermal implant too.
“Yeah, they keep close tabs on their property,” he mutters. “And make no mistake about it, you are their property now.”
I rub the spot, my mind spinning. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Obviously, I know what I’m going to have to do about it.
“If I were you? I’d cut that thing out.” He rolls up his sleeve to show me the scar on his own arm, where he must have done the same.
I nod. “Planning on it.”
I can already feel my mind becoming consumed by this damn tracker. I have to forcefully pull it back. I can’t afford to get sidetracked. I need to keep my focus where it belongs. On Narek Agajanian. Once I deal with him, I can obsess over this stupid tracker until the cows come home.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks.
I pause for a moment to consider and feel a plan start forming in my mind. It’s sketchy, and there are a lot of details that need to be filled in. The first thing I need to do is get into the social club and hope I find the clearing house. But at least I can see the framework going up. And I actually can use Arthur’s help. I turn and flash him a grin.
“Yeah, actually there is,” I tell him. “Still got friends at the Bureau?”
Chapter Twelve
I sit at the end of the bar again, still waiting for Justice to contact me. It’s just after noon, and, surprisingly, the place is empty. Arthur and I are the only ones here. I guess the barflies needed a day to dry out. Or maybe found some healthier way to drown out their sorrows. The thought almost makes me chuckles. They’ll likely be in sooner rather than later.
I look down at my phone, tempted to call Justice for an update. I don’t want to push her too hard, but I’m starting to get anxious. I need her to crack that security system and give me a window to move in. I need to get into that club and see their operation. If I can’t, there’s no way I can make a move on Agajanian.
Arthur is at the other end of the bar doing his paperwork and dealing with his vendors as I sip a beer and listen to the talking heads on the sports network dissecting the week’s big headlines which include a football player getting arrested for drugs, a basketball player getting arrested for domestic violence, and a major cheating scandal in baseball. News out of the sports world is as glum and depressing as news from the real world these days.
I look down and push on the lump beneath the skin on my arm. I can’t explain why, but it feels like a violation. I expected to be tracked by phone, computer, and car. And I didn’t raise a stink about that. But to actually put something in my body—that’s something entirely different. The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get.
I hear the bell over the front doors chime and glance back to see who’s coming in. And when I see who it is, I push thoughts of the tracker in my arm to the back of my mind. Skull Ring and Goatee strut in like they own the place. They shoot a glance my way, but if they recognize me, they give no sign of it. Instead, they walk straight over to Arthur, who’s standing there staring at them dumbfounded. He quickly gathers himself and stands up a bit straighter.
“Little early, ain’t you boys?” he asks.
“Two beers,” glowers Skull Ring. This time he’s wearing a track jacket and sweatsuit.
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