“Until we can get your identification properly loaded, stay with him at all times so we can keep this from happening again. It’s precaution, nothing more. You know how different security is in today’s world. We’ve gotta be overcautious…” It was a valiant effort to ease the agitation. One that didn’t work at all if the tension level was any indication, but still a solid try.
“We’re speeding that process along.”
Aaron looked over to see Agent Brown jogging quickly in from the side, a big giant grin made the corners of his eyes crinkle. His hand came forward as he reached the group of them, and he shook Kreed’s hand. “The place’s going nuts about a big, crazy Southern redneck causing problems. I knew immediately it was you, Sinacola.”
Brown patted Kreed on the shoulder. Aaron grabbed his identification from the sneering guard and hung the temporary lanyard around his neck, never looking back. While Kreed and Brown did their thing, Aaron glanced around the room and watched the guards continue to eye Kreed with an occasional glance in his direction as they spoke in hushed voices near the desk. They were no doubt grandstanding simply because they knew exactly who Kreed Sinacola was and wanted to make a show of going toe-to-toe with the big guy, maybe to earn a few pats on the back and bragging rights later in the locker room.
Agent Brown stuck his hand out toward Aaron. “Good of you to come.”
“It wasn’t a choice.” He only lowered his eyes for a second to clasp the hand before cutting his gaze back across the room to take in the animosity still brewing.
Brown followed his glance and waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, that’s standard around here. Why don’t we get you settled in?” Brown had Kreed by the shoulder, pushing him toward the elevator; Aaron followed, staying close to Sinacola. “That’s Roger Covington, Anne’s husband. He and Knox got into it when Mitch first arrived too. It was kind of comical. Wish I could have seen it firsthand.”
“He’s a douche,” Kreed said loud enough for everyone in the lobby area to hear. He looked back over his shoulder and pinned all the agents still watching with a warning stare.
“Yeah, I think Mitch had a few choice words of his own. Covington’s just doing his job. He’s clearly good at it,” Brown stated matter-of-factly, waving his badge in front of the elevator security pad. The doors opened and Brown ushered him and Kreed inside. The tension slowly began to fade once the doors had closed.
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Kreed muttered. Aaron watched as Kreed took a few deep breaths and visibly forced himself to calm down. Kreed’s mood control was an impressive sight. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone have that much self-discipline over their aggression before.
“It happens every time I have to show my credentials in a government office. That shit’s never gonna come off my record, but it’s also why they hired me,” Aaron said as the doors opened. Brown was off first, but Kreed made Aaron exit the elevator before he followed.
“That doesn’t happen to me. I served this country with a spotless record for the last twenty years. When I say something, it needs to be at least noted,” Kreed tossed out. Aaron didn’t respond as he pinpointed all the cameras lining the walkways of this floor. That uncanny big-brother-watching factor was high, and he wondered how many cameras were monitoring them right now. His stomach churned under the stress of the moment.
As he continued his forward motion, following Brown, Aaron did a complete circle. There wasn’t a space that a camera wasn’t trained on them. His eyes collided with Kreed’s and stayed there longer than they should have. Kreed was right. Failing in his first goal of being sent back home, they needed to team up and get out into the field as quickly as possible. Nothing would be solved under all this oppressive monitoring. How the hell had Mitch gotten as far as he had with the investigation? Aaron turned back around toward Brown and readjusted his attitude. He’d find the information Kreed asked about so they could get the hell out of there.
~~~
The overhead fluorescent lights flickered as Kreed shrugged out of his jacket, absently tossing the worn leather aside on a side chair in the conference room he’d called home for several weeks last fall. Clearly, not nearly enough investigating had gone on in this room since he’d left. All the victims of this case had their pictures exactly where Connors and Knox had placed them on the wall. The handwritten notes were still scribbled on the rolling dry-erase boards. The monitor they’d brought in to conference in Aaron during meetings still sat in its place at the table. His counterparts in the marshals’ division would be mighty pissed off to know the FBI had all this space while they doubled up in just about every field office they had.
Not paying any attention to anyone, he went for the break room. He needed a Mountain Dew and a minute alone to regroup. He rolled his head on his shoulders and shook the aggression out of his arms as he tried hard to re-center himself. The sexual buzz then the confrontation downstairs over Aaron had escalated into straight up pissed off on a level he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
All these erratic mood swings reeked of the PTSD diagnosis he’d been given upon discharge from the military, probably resurfacing after his brother’s death. Honestly, he’d been spoiling for a fight for the last few months. Kreed knew the signs. He was a ticking time bomb, and he needed to get his fucked-up shit under control.
“Hey. Where’s everybody?” Connors came from out of nowhere, stood directly in front of him, and effectively diminished his bad mood. Kreed couldn’t hide his smile. Connors was dressed in khaki walking shorts, flip-flops, and a frayed sweatshirt. Putting aside the fact it was freezing outside, he’d never seen the guy in anything other than his standard issue FBI crisp blue suit, stark white dress shirt, and matching silk tie.
“I’m not even sure I know who you are.” Kreed’s smile grew. He reached in his pocket for some change then dropped the money into the slot and pushed the button.
“I’m not here because I chose to be.” Connors shoved past Kreed.
“They’re in the conference room,” Kreed called out then thought better of it all. He quickly grabbed his drink then spun around. He jogged the few steps back to the conference room, bypassing Connors as he went, because he wanted a front row seat to Connors meeting Aaron for the first time. After all the hate the man had spewed to Knox about Aaron’s presence in the case—not trusting him as far as he could throw him—there was absolutely no way Kreed would miss this moment. Besides, Mitch would want a play-by-play. He owed it to his buddy to capture every minute. He made it inside the door, crashed into a front row seat, sending the chair rolling backward, bumping into the table as he kicked back to watch the show. Guaranteed entertainment. Too bad he didn’t have a bucket of popcorn; it would go really well with his Mountain Dew.
“Aaron Stuart, meet Special Agent Connors. Yep, it’s him—pale legs and all,” Kreed called out as Connors entered the room. He couldn’t see what Aaron did because his sole focus remained on Connors, who didn’t disappoint. He didn’t miss the wince, that little brief narrowing of Connors’s eyes at the introduction. Aaron’s hand came into his peripheral vision and Kreed laughed out loud as Connors hesitated to extend his hand. The guy was too much.
“Good to meet you,” Aaron said with definitely more manners than meaning. Connors didn’t seem to possess that same attribute though.
“We should get started,” Connors said. Kreed tracked the guy when he bypassed Aaron altogether as he rounded the table to shake Agent Brown’s hand. They were actually assigned partners. Huh. Kreed couldn’t see how Brown managed day to day with that stiff and formal agent. Kreed would never greet Mitch so formally. Actually, he and Mitch were more into greetings by way of insult.
Aaron’s gaze slid his direction. “You need to Google ‘mouse and Mountain Dew experiment’ sometime, just for the hell of it.” Aaron’s nose scrunched up as he nodded to the green can in Kreed’s hand before walking away.
“What? Why?” Kreed looked at the soft drink then shrugged befor
e bringing the can to his lips and finishing the last of the sugary drink in one big gulp. He tossed the can in the nearest wastebasket and headed back to the table before the briefing got underway.
Aaron drew Kreed’s attention over to him. His laptop was out and he typed quicker than any man Kreed had ever seen before. Kreed watched Aaron’s long slender fingers fly across the keys as he gathered information. He couldn’t help but wonder how well Aaron used those deft digits for other things.
The wall-mounted monitor lit up, drawing Kreed’s attention back to the FBI meeting room and what he was supposed to be concentrating on. Shit! Get your head in the game, Sinacola. Numbers and letters in no particular order scrolled across the screen as Kreed’s focus centered back on the task at hand.
Kreed turned his attention toward Colt’s picture—the New York Panther’s freshly out-of-the-closet quarterback whose automobile accident spurred this entire investigation. He’d never met the guy or his partner, Jace, yet he felt a bond with both of them.
“Do we need a refresher synopsis?” Connors asked from his seat at the head of the table. Since Mitch was out, Connors would, of course, be the sole lead. Kreed wrinkled his nose, remembering how many times he’d wanted to kick the guy’s ass during the brief time they’d worked together on this case.
“I think we’re good,” Kreed started but Brown cut him off.
“I’ll do it. I’ll hit the high points,” Brown said, taking his seat and opening a file. Thank God. Kreed breathed a sigh of relief. Connors could get windy. “Secret Service Agent Peter Langley was arrested in the attempted murder of State Trooper Cody Turner. Charges were also filed on the attempted murder and abduction of Elliot Greyson, Senator Greyson’s college-aged son.”
Aaron typed quickly and the agent’s mugshot appeared on the screen. Brown was silent a second, turning pages in the file before he spoke again.
“He pled guilty to a number of crimes but was found dead in his cell of an apparent suicide before any additional information was obtained. It was widely believed—albeit not with most of the parties present in this room—that Langley worked alone in master-minding and carrying out a long list of hate-related crimes against nine men, ranging from murder to kidnapping. Then, Stuart here spotted Langley’s attorney in the picket line at Derek Sinacola’s funeral…” Brown stopped and looked up at Kreed a moment, worry clear on the guy’s face.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Connors chimed in with the words that were so plainly expressed on Brown’s face.
Kreed already knew that Connors didn’t do compassion. The tone he used was clear; Connors thought Kreed might be a liability and he got it, but this was the one damn thing he could do. There were victims and families out there who deserved answers and he was going to make damn sure they got them. He knew how much this meant to Mitch, and he wouldn’t rest until the sons-of-bitches that did this got exactly what they deserved. He looked at Connors and just cocked a brow.
“You aren’t pushing me off this case, hot shot. I owe it to Knox.”
“How are they?” Brown asked, drawing Kreed’s attention off Connors.
“As good as can be expected.” Kreed assumed Brown meant Mitch and Cody. Then he smiled as he said, “Mitch knows, if that’s what you’re really asking. He’s pissed he wasn’t included, but he’s worried about Cody, so he’ll behave. If Stuart’s lead turns out to be valid, Cody isn’t safe. Hell, no one’s safe. We need to get ’em while they’re still regrouping.”
Brown nodded, shutting the file and pushing it out of his way.
“And we all agree Agent Langley more than likely didn’t act alone, correct?” The entire table nodded their agreement. Aaron made eye contact with Kreed for the first time since his fingers hit the keyboard.
“We should act fast before word can leak,” Aaron suggested.
Connors stayed uncharacteristically quiet while he looked over at Aaron.
“Right now’s our best chance. We need a plan before this holiday break ends and agents we haven’t vetted for possible involvement return to their posts. Stuart and I talked before we got here. I think what he has to say’s pretty solid.”
“Let’s hear it,” Connors said. Kreed would watch this play out. If he had to step in to create the outcome he wanted, he would.
Aaron gave a long pause before he bent to work at his keyboard again. “Agent Langley’s attorney was spotted across the street from the church.”
Kreed watched the screen fill with images of the religious haters picketing his brother’s funeral and his stomach turned. Stuart only showed shots of the crowd, and Kreed was grateful to avoid seeing the church or the funeral procession, not that those images weren’t burned into his brain anyway. The picketers hadn’t only disrespected his brother but Kreed’s entire family with their ‘God hates fags’ and ‘Pray for more dead soldiers’ antics.
Three or four pictures passed with shots of the attorney, wearing a baseball cap, pulled down low, and a high-collared jacket, but the facial shots were clear. There was no mistaking his identity, even behind the cap.
“I’ve narrowed it down to three churches involved in that rally. I haven’t had a lot of time with a secured line, but in the few minutes I had before this meeting started, I received the information I needed.” Aaron continued his keystrokes and three church names appeared on the screen. East Hill Fellowship, Jonesboro Baptist, Four Square Temple.
Kreed’s jaw clenched and his gut churned. How any of those organizations hadn’t been added to the national list of organized hate groups was beyond him.
“I don’t think any of this is a surprise,” Connors started, but Kreed lifted a hand. They were progressing, and if Connors took the floor, they’d be there hours listening to him think out loud.
“Hang on. We came up with an idea. Let Aaron tell us what he thinks. We need to get it out before we rehash everything. Keep going, Stuart.”
“Well, those three churches are satellite branches of the bigger, angrier Redemption Apostle Tabernacle,” Stuart said, looking back at him. Kreed nodded, a little distracted when their gazes made contact. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the kid but got the break he needed when Aaron finally looked down in order to bring up several images of the founder of the church.
“This is Pastor Gerald Albert Helps. These other three are the church’s top deacons. What’s important here is this one.” The screen changed again as one picture expanded to take center stage. “Deacon Silas Burns has a military past. It took me months to stumble on the information. He’s come up on a couple of lists, but his file was hidden away tightly for some reason. He was special teams for the army.”
Okay, that got all of Kreed’s attention, and he sat forward, leaning his arms on the table. The cut brake lines, all the different bombs… Burns would have easily gained that knowledge in the military.
“Anything else?” Connors asked.
“The deacon’s taken a mission trip to Mexico, per his credit card usage. Not saying he’s really there, but my gut says they’re trying to create an alibi.”
“Damn, you’re good,” Brown said. “How did Knox find you?”
“We played State of Decay,” Aaron answered absently, causing Kreed to laugh. A technology genius wasting his time on online video games. What a riot.
“All right then, here’s my plan. We go undercover inside the hub. We need to do it immediately, get the wheels turning this week while everyone’s gone. I’ll get Skinner to approve it,” Kreed said, dropping his plan in the middle of the table.
“That’s a shot in the dark. Besides, what do any of us have to offer to get inside the door of the church?” Connors asked, but Kreed talked over him.
“You haven’t heard me out. To me, they’re homegrown terrorists. So they’re extreme and need to be handled as such. We’ll pair up. Go undercover. Connors, you stay here and work your magic by buying us time. Brown, you monitor all the surveillance we feed you, and Stuart and I will go into the field.
” Kreed pointed to Aaron.
“Wait… What? I thought I was wrapping things up to go home,” Aaron said, his gaze darting over to Kreed’s.
“We need you. You’re the only one who can get inside the church,” Kreed explained.
“What? When did that become the plan?” Aaron shouted those words. He could tell Aaron was aggravated as hell, so he hid his smile at the outburst.
“He’s talented enough to create a completely new identity for himself. No one outside the four of us needs to know who he’s become. We’ll clean him up and get him a job in the inner workings of the church. Every company I know needs a knowledgeable IT guy. Am I wrong?” Kreed asked.
“Yes, you’re wrong. I can infiltrate them from my home office,” Aaron shot back.
“Not good enough,” Connors said, staring at Kreed as he thought through the potential plan. “It’s what you’ll hear on the inside that’s important. IT guys sit quietly and absorb everything. Every employee knows to go to them to get the gossip. Sinacola, your plan has merit.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Aaron countered defensively.
“Sure, it does,” Kreed argued, but never looked Aaron’s way. “I’ll wire him up, set up shop somewhere close by, and be there to handle anything that goes down. The threat’s real, but I’ve got your back.” Kreed spoke the last line to Aaron and meant it. Nothing would touch the kid.
“So no one outside of this room knows what we’re doing?” Brown asked.
“Skinner knows some,” Kreed offered. “But he’s given us the complete green light and came back from vacay to be our direct senior advisor.”
“It’s critical to the success. Their congregation’s too massive and far-reaching. That’s been proven with Langley,” Connors said as he contemplated the idea.
“Yeah, exactly. It’s already reared its ugly head inside the Justice Department. No telling who else in here shares their beliefs and the same hatred,” Kreed reasoned aloud, validating Connors. “I’ll have to tell Skinner parts, but I trust him with my life.”
Full Domain (A Nice Guys Novel Book 3) Page 6