by Bob Blink
"Jessie, you and Mark have the keys for the cars," Ed said. "You two drive. Mitch, myself, and our FBI visitor ride with you. The rest of you go with Mark. Unless I miss my guess, there will be no wounded or bodies of our people to collect, but have a look as we load up just in case. Throw the remains of Miss Chou or whatever that is in the back on one of the SUVs. The body will be useful. And make certain you secure that weapon. It's the best proof we have that something untoward is going on."
"Mitch, Burrow's is your prisoner. Ditch his phone and anything else that might allow his location to be tracked. We'll give him a more thorough check once we reach a more secure area. At that time, I also want the vehicle tracker units disconnected from power."
The government vehicles were equipped with satellite tracking so their position could be determined by the agency at any time. Because the need might arrive, the units could supposedly be turned off, which Ed had had done a couple of days ago, but he never fully trusted those tricky people at the agency, and wanted the units incapable of operation.
"Let's go," he added, finally.
"Where are we headed?" Mark asked.
"That cabin you mentioned earlier for now," Ed said. "Hopefully it'll be safe for a night while we rethink this whole thing."
They moved out with weapons ready, half expecting to find more ambushers waiting for them, but they reached the vehicles without coming under fire. As expected, other than Pam's body, there were no others to be found, either their men or the attackers. Mark and Jessie started the vehicles and backed them up to make loading quicker. Mitch stripped Agent Burrows of his iPhone, tossing it casually out of the window of the SUV onto the tarmac with no concern for its welfare. He continued to check for anything that might also be a tracking device, relieving the agent of pens, his watch, and the man's belt with a heavy belt buckle. Glen and Janet picked up the bloody remains of the Pam-clone, and threw it quickly and unceremoniously in the back of Mark's vehicle. Steph insisted on sitting in the front seat as far from the recovered body as possible, while the remaining pair climbed in the back seat after gingerly carrying the strange weapon the woman had dropped and placing it in with her body. Uncomfortable with the silvery device, they made certain the deadly end was pointed out of the side of the vehicle, away from all passengers.
As they drove away Jessie thought about how their situation had suddenly deteriorated. While there were no witnesses to the brief altercation in the clinic parking area, the doctor would certainly be questioned by the police, the FBI, and someone from her agency. The doctor didn't know their names, except for those he might have picked up off the news, but he could provide descriptions and within a few hours the identities of all of them would be known by all involved organizations. There were also more agency people now dead and missing, to be added to those lost earlier this morning. She thought about the friends she'd lost among those killed.
There also remained the all-important matter of how they had been located so quickly both times, and she wasn't nearly as comfortable as Ed that they wouldn't be facing further attacks at the mountain cabin. She hadn't had a chance to question Burrows whether the cabin location had been revealed to his offices, and intended to do that when they stopped to finish Ed's requested search of the man. No one had raised the issue, but they were getting uncomfortably low on manpower and ammunition to engage in any further confrontation, and somehow needed to get reinforcements and logistical support.
Chapter 31
There were only the three of them present given the sensitivity of the meeting. They had come together on the top floor of the J. Edgar Hoover Building to discuss the most recent developments.
"What is going on?" The Director of the FBI asked, in less than the most cordial tone. Sitting to his right was the Assistant Director of the organization, and across from him with the Deputy Director of Homeland Security. The Director of that organization had been unable to attend due to a conflicting conference with the President of the United States on an even more immediate problem, leaving his deputy the uncomfortable task of dealing with the matter.
"What exactly do you mean?" the Deputy Director asked, although he knew exactly what the other was referencing, but wasn't certain how many facts he had at his disposal, and he hoped he might learn how much the FBI knew of the situation.
"Come now," the Director said. "This Jessie Carter is one of yours. She and her friends are wanted for murder and potentially other crimes and have been on our search list for several days. Now, several of what appear to be more of your agents are found dead in what appears to be a shot up safe house, which shows evidence that these same people have been at only recently. Add to that, two of my best agents are missing after becoming involved in a second confrontation just outside the city where they were sent to attempt an arrest of two of these felons. Witnesses there, including the doctor that was called upon to patch up several more of your people, positively identified four of the fugitives, working closely with your people. Clearly you are not working in concert with the FBI to bring these people to justice, but have some operation of your own in progress."
"That's not the case," the Deputy Director objected. He shifted uneasily in his chair, not comfortable with this situation. The Director himself should be here to deal with a problem of this importance affecting sister agencies.
"Then I suggest you tell me what is the case. I want to know where my men are and what might have happened to them. We are unable to contact either of my agents, and a great deal of blood found at the scene of the last incident, which suggests that someone was killed. Unfortunately there is no body, so we cannot say who the victim might have been. Despite the impressive number of rounds discharged at that location, no bodies are present. Why would your people have carted away all of those killed?"
All were questions that the Deputy Director wished he knew answers to. The situation was actually far worse and more confusing than his counterparts from the FBI realized. More than a dozen Homeland agents were unaccounted for, all of them who had a known or prior close association with Ed Collins, who appeared to be working closely with the renegade agent Jessie Carter and her friends. Why they were with the fugitives no one could explain, and why there had been a shootout at the borrowed safe house and at the medical facility was not known either. Even more worrisome, no one had been able to determine who they were fighting with. Clearly it wasn't the FBI agents. They had apparently come to the scene with nothing more than their service weapons, and hadn't been to the safe house at all. The Director was furious with the situation, fearful of eventual more disastrous political fallout, which had been bad enough since the videos of Miss Carter's involvement in the Monica Parker shooting had surfaced.
Collins had been unreachable. Officially on leave, he was still supposed to respond to emergency contact attempts, but had failed to do so. Other men were missing, most of those not scheduled to be absent, and they had not responded either. It was as if a whole squad of their best agents had run off on some private mission of their own. He and the Director were fearful of what that might sort of mission that might be. Even the two wounded men who had been treated by the doctor had disappeared somewhere. The somewhere almost certainly was with Agent Collins, but what could be their purpose? All of them must know their careers were forfeit by their actions.
"I cannot tell you what is going on. We are every bit as much in the dark as your people," he admitted reluctantly.
"That's what kind of operation you run over there at Anacosta? What about your vehicles that were spotted. Can't you locate them?"
"That function appears to have been deliberately disabled," the Deputy Director admitted reluctantly.
That earned him another harsh glare.
"We have put all of those we know of on our wanted lists," the FBI Director explained. "I don't care that they are government employees. They are now fugitives. I am of the belief there are others you haven't been up front with us about. If I learn this is true, I will raise the m
atter with the President when I see him. My men are missing, and I want them found."
"We believe at least Agent Burrows was alive when he was taken from the confrontation at the medical facility," the Assistant Director of the FBI said, speaking for the first time. "He apparently had the foresight to toss his cellphone out the window of whatever vehicle he was being transported in as a clue that he had been abducted. We have no such assurances of the condition of Agent Geller, and given the amount of blood discovered, we are fearful he might have been killed by your people."
Slumping slightly, the Homeland Deputy Director could only say, "We know nothing about the status of your agents. This whole situation is unprecedented, and we are trying to unravel what might have happened." His personal belief was that the phone had probably been tossed by his people, worried it could be tracked. What bothered him was what might have become of the second agent's phone, but perhaps it would turn up further down the street.
"Can you tell us who your people might have been shooting at?" The FBI Director asked. "A remarkable number of rounds were discharged, all in a direction away from the clinic. My people indicate that they can find no evidence of any shots being fired toward the clinic, where your people were. What kind of battle is that, and why were so many rounds expended in such a one sided confrontation?"
"That is indeed curious," the Deputy Director agreed, but was unable to enlighten them on why it could be so. At least the safe house showed a more conventional scene where two opposing forces had exchanged gunfire.
"You appear to know nothing of value, or are deliberately concealing the truth for reasons I can't fathom," the FBI Director said exasperated. "You should know that the full force of the FBI and the Washington Police Department will be directed toward apprehending these men."
"Please try to take them alive," The Homeland Deputy pleaded. "We need to be able to question them and find out what this is all about." He wondered where they had gone and whether they were even in the D.C. area any longer.
"We always attempt to capture suspects alive, but this depends very much on the fugitives themselves, and I have a feeling your men are not going to be very agreeable to capture. I can make no promises, beyond if I find out you have been holding back, I will see your organization prosecuted to the fullest."
The Homeland deputy was very glad the FBI didn't know the full extent of the problem and how many agents appeared to be involved in this weird situation.
There was no point for the meeting to go on. There was no useful information that was being exchanged. As the three men left the office, clear hostility was apparent. The Homeland Deputy dearly hoped his men hadn't harmed the FBI agents. The Assistant Director of the FBI who had said little during the meeting, left feeling satisfied that the Homeland people knew very little of what was really in play here. In fact, he didn't either. Surprisingly, the fact the others had no clue about the true nature of events made him happy, that situation being important to him for reasons he couldn't have explained. He was, however, disappointed he hadn't learned anything useful about the location of the missing Homeland agents.
As he left the Hoover Building, Homeland Security's Deputy Director knew one thing for certain. Their people had to find the wayward agents that were with Collins if there was to be any hope of containing this situation. He grimaced as he thought about the report he'd soon be making in front of the Director.
Chapter 32
The drive to the wilderness cabin went smoother this time. Mark was driving the lead vehicle and had been there before, and Glen was in the back able to point out any turns that Mark was hazy on. The scenery was decidedly different looking as compared to the last trip, with most of the snow having disappeared since they'd last traveled through here. Where it had been mostly white before, the countryside now showed its true nature, although brown and drab without the spring colors that were still far off. The ditches that paralleled the side of the road were nearly full with runoff melt, and some patches of the road were muddy and slick. But there were no signs of car tracks, which supported Agent Burrows' claim that he hadn't revealed the existence of the wilderness hideout, and that the FBI had not discovered it.
They hadn't stocked up like before. If the cabin had been discovered, they wouldn't be staying, and if it remained secure, they only planned the one night. Jessie and her friends were familiar with the supplies on hand, and they wouldn't need anything that wasn't there from the last trip, with one exception. They had stopped at a gun store and purchased a case of .223 ammunition for the collection of AR rifles they carried. With the uncanny ability their enemy had of locating them, none could be certain they wouldn't find themselves in another fight before the night was over.
"Small," Ed noted when they pulled into the driveway of their destination.
"It'll be cozy," Jessie agreed.
As before, the women got the bedroom, although with three of them they'd have to sort out what to do with two beds. Since night watch shifts were planned, that was less of a problem than it might have been. The men would crowd into the living room near the fire. Jessie's note and money were both still in place where she had left them, and the rest of the gear was as they'd left it, providing some additional assurance that Agent Burrows had been telling the truth.
One of the first orders of business was to scout the area, and select watch stations. Ed wanted to be able to monitor the road, and any other paths that might be used to approach their hideout. He made up three teams, with four-hour shifts per team. He and Jessie would be on watch together, then Mark and Janet, and finally Glen and Mitch. Burrows wouldn't have a watch because Ed wasn't yet comfortable with the FBI agent's role in things, and Stephanie simply lacked the experience for the task. She was assigned kitchen duty, with Burrows helping.
The first order of business, once the watch teams and positions had been resolved, was to address the matter of how they had been found so readily, including by the two FBI agents. With Glen and Mitch positioned on opposite sides of the cabin with shelter, communications, and surprisingly commanding views of the surrounding area, Burrows was surrounded by the remaining group who had a number of questions that needed answering.
"I cannot see how the two matters can be connected, but I want to know how you and our enemy were able to locate us at the doctor's clinic so speedily," Ed demanded, to start off the questioning.
Tom Burrows met the questioning gaze of Ed Collins unflinchingly, and glanced around at the other pairs of eyes anxiously waiting for an answer. Some of the eyes were hostile, and others more curious. Some he'd considered almost friends before, but now he wasn't certain. A lot had happened of late.
"I have no idea how those others, including the duplicate Pam Chou, managed to locate you," Burrows replied.
His comment made each of them think about the bloodied body that was still in Mark's vehicle, marginally hidden under a plastic tarp they had found in the storage area of the vehicle. They also glanced at the recently acquired carry bag containing the strange weapon that sat on the counter not far away. It was one of the first items Mark had brought in from the vehicle, not wanting to give the damn thing a chance to disappear again. It was the only artifact that might prove their alien theory to someone, although he didn't know who they would be approaching.
Continuing, Burrows explained, "My partner and I were directed to go there by Assistant Director Baker of the FBI."
"Excuse me?" Mark asked. "You were directed to come after us. Just the two of you, when we numbered over a dozen?"
"I wasn't privy to the details of the call," Burrows explained. "Max was friendly with many of the upper ranks in the Bureau, and he received a call. As he explained to me as we drove to the clinic, the Assistant Director had received intelligence that you, and he pointed toward Mark, and Miss Carter would be arriving at the clinic before long. Nothing was said about anyone else being with you. We were directed to apprehend you, and were told that backup would be sent to support us."
"Backup that never arrived," Jessie said.
Burrows nodded.
"Sounds like you were set up," Jane suggested.
"How would this Director know that Mark and Jessie were going to be there, and why would he believe they would be alone?" Ed asked.
"Assistant Director," Burrows corrected. "I don't have any idea where the information might have come from. We have had no luck finding any of you since the shooting of Monica Parker. Nor have we spotted Bud Johnson, who we have sought with equal interest. Where the information might have come from is something I can't answer."
"Would your partner have known?" Mark asked.
"It's possible he was told, but I think he would have mentioned the source of the information when he told me where we were going and who to expect there. I can only tell you he was quite surprised to see so many of you, armed and prepared for an engagement."
"Could our communications be compromised in some way?" Janet asked. "Maybe someone in our organization was tracking our group, or detected our communications, and realizing we weren't an authorized mission, passed our intended location to the FBI. We talked about the doctor over the net I'm certain."
"Not possible," Stephanie said, surprising the others. "I worked on that equipment briefly. Without your code word, it would be all but impossible to decrypt your messages. It wouldn't be useful otherwise. It could be done, but it would take days on the NSA supercomputers. Whoever is behind the attacks on us, knew in minutes."
"I have a bad feeling," Jessie said.
Mark glanced her way. "Someone inside the FBI is like us," he guessed. "Someone that is controlled and may not realize it."