The Terminal List

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The Terminal List Page 13

by Jack Carr


  Once the men had passed, Reece ditched the menu and walked directly out of the front door of the restaurant, thinking that he desperately needed a surveillance skills tune-up. His heart was racing as he moved across the parking lot and hit the button to unlock the small sedan. Reece was carrying his Glock 19 and could defend himself if they made a move on him, but shooting it out with four federal agents in broad daylight would have immediately compromised the rest of his mission. He also couldn’t maintain his surveillance position any longer. A guy like Holder would notice the Nissan sitting in the same spot and possibly recognize him. Hopefully the DCIS boys would grab a few beers and let their guard down, but he couldn’t count on that.

  Reece started the Nissan, looking for a new spot to continue his surveillance. The next-best option was a nearby Montessori school, but an adult male sitting outside a preschool was a sure way to attract suspicion, not to mention that it would probably be letting out soon, and he could easily get stuck behind a line of soccer moms in minivans picking up their kids.

  Across a small side street from the backside of the DCIS office there was a Botox and Beauty Boutique.

  Only in California, Reece thought.

  If there was any place where the clientele were too self-involved to notice a guy sitting in an economy car, this was it. He pulled into a spot where he had a view of Plaza Road, which was the only way that Holder could exit the office. He couldn’t see Holder’s Escalade from where he sat, but he would most likely be able to see him leave.

  Reece didn’t have to wait long. Holder must have stopped by the office just to have lunch with the guys before heading back out. The car made a right out of the parking lot onto Plaza and then made an immediate right toward the intersection with Crown Valley Parkway, which was the main thoroughfare that connected with the interstate less than a half mile away.

  Reece assumed that Holder would head for I-5, so he went in the opposite direction on Plaza, turned left onto Los Altos, and stopped in the right-turn lane, preparing to turn as Holder passed his intersection. Instead he saw the black vehicle cross Crown Valley farther east and pass out of sight. Cars started to line up behind him as he was cleared to turn right with no way to get left without going the wrong way across eight lanes of traffic. Stomping on the accelerator, he made a right turn onto the parkway. If he’d been in his Cruiser he could have jumped the median and done a U-turn, but Donny’s sensible commuter car would probably high-center on the curb. Reece sped west until he hit the next intersection and steered into the extreme left-turn lane. He caught a green light just as he approached the intersection and made a quick U-turn, failing to yield to the four lanes of oncoming traffic. He pinned the gas pedal and immediately wished that Donny had driven something with a lot more power. He steered into the right lane and quickly made up the distance back to the street where he had last seen Holder’s Escalade. He made a right and immediately realized that he’d gotten lucky; this wasn’t a street at all, but an entrance to an apartment complex. He drove up toward the simple wooden arm gate and saw his target vehicle parked in front of one of the buildings to his right. Bingo. Now he knew where Holder slept.

  Reece turned around in the cul-de-sac in front of the gate and drove back out toward the main road. He made a left and then a right into a bank parking lot. He wanted to make sure that Holder hadn’t pulled into the complex simply to ditch him, which was highly unlikely, since Holder had access to the gate and it would have been difficult for him to have spotted the Nissan. He watched the parkway for nearly an hour, then left his vehicle on foot, not wanting to risk burning his car in a second drive-by, and walked back toward the apartments. He walked in via the access road until he caught sight of Holder’s car. The vehicle hadn’t moved. He made his way back to his car and headed for San Diego. He had accomplished his recon objective and was reasonably sure he hadn’t been compromised.

  It made sense that Holder would live that close to work. A guy coming out to the west coast from the D.C. area without a family would do one of two things: get a place as close to the beach as possible or get one very close to the office. Holder didn’t strike Reece as a guy who took long walks on the beach, so parking himself within walking distance of work was probably it. Deciding not to return Donny’s car to the Team, Reece headed for home to make plans for the next phase of his reconnaissance.

  CHAPTER 27

  THE NEXT MORNING, Reece headed out the door well before dawn, dressed in khaki pants, a white button-up shirt Lauren had bought for him, and a pair of brown loafers. He tossed his blue blazer into the backseat of Donny’s Nissan and climbed into the driver’s seat. He’d done an aerial recon using Google Maps and determined that another, ungated apartment complex just to the northeast of Holder’s place offered a view of Bellogente Circle, the access road that led to the DCIS man’s gate. Reece didn’t think that a government employee who lived two minutes from his office would leave home too early, but you never knew.

  He found a spot with an unobstructed view of Bellogente through the oaks and waited for the sun to rise. When there was enough light to see, Reece pulled out the legal pad that he’d been making notes on and went back over all the facts. Katie had to be right; this was surely some kind of money deal. DCIS involvement suggested some type of procurement scam, but there wasn’t a contract in the special operations community big enough to get this many people killed. It just didn’t make sense. Besides, he couldn’t imagine a contract deal that could give people cancer.

  At 8:25 a.m., the black SUV pulled out of the complex and crossed the parkway for the one-minute commute. Holder must report to the office at 8:30. He wasn’t exactly kicking the rooster in the ass to get there early. Reece waited until 9:15 a.m. and then pulled out of the parking lot. He drove up to the gate and pressed zero on the keypad.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m looking for the leasing office.”

  “Come on in.” He heard dial tones and the white gate arm swung upward. He drove through the gate and pulled into one of the spots marked “Future Resident.” He grabbed his legal pad, put on his blazer, and walked up to the leasing office with a smile on his face.

  “Hi, I’m Carmen,” said a middle-aged woman wearing a tan suit, too much makeup, and an overly healthy dousing of pungent perfume as she extended her hand. She wore gold rings on each of her fingers and had bright red nails that looked as fake as they were.

  “Hey there, Carmen, I’m Roy Boehm.”

  “How did you hear about us, Roy?”

  “I’m in medical sales and make quite a few calls in this area. I noticed this complex a few weeks ago. It looks like a great place to live.”

  “It’s a wonderful community. We have luxury apartments, and the amenities are fantastic. We have a pool, a fitness center, and a community room that you can reserve for parties or events.”

  “How many bedrooms do they have?”

  “We have two- and three-bedroom models. Would you like to see one?”

  “I’d love to. A two-bedroom is fine. My wife and I don’t have any children.”

  “Let me grab my keys, and we can take a look.”

  The model apartment was in the closest building to the leasing office and Reece followed Carmen down the sidewalk at a painfully slow pace thanks to a pair of high-heeled shoes that she hadn’t quite mastered. “Isn’t this place just gorgeous? Can you see yourself living here?”

  “It’s really nice. The main attraction for me is the location. It would cut down my drive time every day.”

  “Oh yes, we get a lot of that.”

  As they approached the unit, Reece pulled a small digital camera from his pocket.

  “Carmen, do you mind if I take a video to show my wife? She’s away on business this week.”

  “Of course, whatever you need to do. All of the two bedrooms are identical to this one.”

  As Carmen fumbled with a large ring of keys, Reece pressed a button to begin recording, being sure to zoom in cl
osely on the door locks. She found the correct key, put it into the well-worn dead bolt, and opened the exterior door. Reece took a tour of the decorated model apartment, pacing off dimensions and writing them on his legal pad as well as filming the locations of light switches, power outlets, and the circuit breaker. He asked questions about utility rates, opened kitchen cabinets, and went through all the painful motions of someone looking for a place to live. “I notice there’s no security system. Do any of the units have them?”

  “No, there are no alarm systems. Our lease agreement does not allow you to do any wiring or install any permanent systems. We are a gated community, though, in a safe area so it’s never been an issue.”

  “Well, that’s comforting. I was just curious. How much is the rent?”

  “It’s twenty-nine hundred per month, and we offer both twelve- and twenty-four-month leasing agreements.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s really more than we were looking to pay. You see, we bought our house back in Las Vegas at the height of the real estate market and we’re underwater on it. It’s really stretching our budget. I thought these would be more like fifteen hundred a month.”

  “Oh Roy, I’m sorry, we don’t have anything in that price range. Maybe if your wife falls in love with it you can make it work?”

  “I’m so sorry. We just can’t swing it. I hate that I’ve wasted your time. I don’t want to take up any more of it,” Reece said, heading for the door.

  “Please, let me take down your information and I can speak to the owner,” Carmen pled, desperate to make a deal.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I really better go. I’m so embarrassed.” Reece picked up the pace as Carmen stumbled along behind him in her heels.

  Reece started the car and waved out the open window to her as he backed out of the parking spot and steered toward the automatic exit gate.

  Having completed his close target reconnaissance he was ready to move to the next phase of mission planning.

  CHAPTER 28

  BY LATE AFTERNOON REECE had reviewed the video and his notes and had created a floor plan of the apartment on a large piece of poster board. On a second sheet he had drawn a sketch of the apartment complex and adjoining area and had pinned both to his bedroom wall. He would have preferred to have done it in the living room, but it would have been difficult to explain what he was up to if a friend or neighbor had dropped by to check on him. He’d purchased the same brand and model dead bolt that the apartments used and installed it on his bedroom door. It had been years since he’d messed around with lock picks, and it would take some practice to get his skills back up to par. He’d pick the lock, then stand and stare at the floor plan and sketch, making notes on the legal pad on his bed. He’d use the picks to relock the door and then do it all over again. He ordered a pizza and kept at it until midnight, when he finally had the plan developed to his satisfaction.

  His idea was based on some assumptions. Since whatever conspiracy Holder was involved in spanned at least two countries and probably both coasts, there was most likely some email or other message traffic going on among the players. He would not risk putting that kind of information on a DOD-issued computer, where it would be subject to scrutiny. Whoever was behind this wasn’t inept enough to get caught by a nosy reporter filing a FOIA request. His second assumption was that Holder did not carry the non-DOD computer with him to work. Doing so would arouse suspicion that he was either up to no good or doing personal business on government time. He also wasn’t carrying a computer when Reece saw him in the parking lot or in the restaurant. It was most likely stashed in either his vehicle or his apartment. Reece was banking on the latter.

  War had become extremely technical over the past decade and even door kickers like Reece had to learn to exploit electronic avenues to defeat the enemy. He’d been sent to several schools to learn how to harvest and decipher data from cell phones and computer networks, and though he was far from an expert in the field, he knew enough to get the job done.

  Equipment existed that would have allowed him to access Holder’s computer remotely, but he left that kind of thing up to the technical guys, and trying to obtain that equipment in his current situation could leave a clue as to his intentions. Reece did have a less sophisticated device that he’d secured from his gear locker, one that required him to physically access the computer in question. As much as he wanted to simply kick the front door down, shoot Josh Holder in the face, and grab the computer, that didn’t exactly fit into the overall plan, at least not yet. Reece needed the information on Holder’s computer to map out the enemy network so he could destroy it piece by piece.

  Knowing that Holder wasn’t likely to leave his apartment too early, Reece pulled into the parking lot of the medical office building adjacent to the complex at 7:00 a.m. The only separation between the parking lot and Holder’s building was a strip of grass and trees along a four-foot aluminum fence. At 8:15 a.m. he got out of the small Nissan and stood by an oak tree near the fence line, going through the motions of the world’s longest stretching routine.

  He wasn’t sure which unit was Holder’s, so he put himself in a position where he’d be able to watch him walk out of any door on that side of the structure. The Escalade had been parked on that side all three times that Reece had seen it over the preceding days. He was dressed in running clothes: shorts, a lightweight gray windbreaker, a cap pulled low, and sunglasses. He hadn’t shaven since his trip to Katie’s hotel, and his dark and increasingly gray beard was starting to change the appearance of his face.

  Holder walked out of his apartment seven minutes later and locked the door behind him. He scanned the area as he walked but took no notice of the jogger stretching on the other side of the fence. Reece waited for the big Cadillac to pull out of the complex and pass through the gate before vaulting over the fence and casually walking toward Holder’s apartment door. Putting on gloves, he unzipped his windbreaker, exposing a nylon Hill People Gear runner’s chest pouch that held the equipment he would need. It took him about ten seconds to open the deadbolt. He didn’t worry about any “telltales” left at the door to betray his intrusion, since he had watched Holder swiftly exit the unit. If Holder had installed any type of security system on his own, Reece was about to find out.

  He locked the door behind him and found an apartment almost completely devoid of furnishings, making it seem larger than the model unit. The living room had a flat-screen television sitting in the built-in entertainment center, a cheap black faux leather couch, and a small coffee table where Holder probably also took his meals. The area where you’d expect to find a dining table was empty. There was no sign of an alarm system or any type of surveillance device, though you could hide a camera anywhere these days.

  Reece went for the smaller of the two bedrooms first, assuming that Holder would be using it as an office. He was right. He found a small computer desk and office chair common to big-box office retail stores. A black neoprene zippered case was lying on top of the desk. Reece opened it and extracted a black laptop computer. Taking a silver aluminum device out of his pouch that was slightly larger than a smartphone, he connected it to the computer’s USB port. A red light on the unit began flashing, indicating that the contents of the hard drive were being downloaded.

  It would take several minutes to download the information so Reece took a knee in the corner of the room and drew the Glock from his runner’s pouch to cover the doorway. If Holder realized that he’d forgotten something and returned home, it was going to get loud. After ten minutes that seemed like an eternity, the blinking light turned green. Reece holstered his handgun and retrieved the device, putting Holder’s laptop back in the case exactly as he’d found it.

  He did a quick recon of the remainder of the apartment, particularly of the bedroom. Holder’s sleeping quarters were slightly less Spartan than the rest of the apartment, but not by much. He obviously wasn’t planning on spending much time in the area. Reece resisted the temptation to do something unmenti
onable with Holder’s toothbrush, but instead peered through the peephole before exiting the apartment, spraying the hinges with a small can of WD-40 as he shut and locked the door behind him. Closing the chest pouch, Reece zipped up his windbreaker and jogged back to his car.

  CHAPTER 29

  Hartley Family Foundation Offices

  New York City, New York

  J. D. HARTLEY WAS IN HIS Manhattan office when the call came in on his secure line. It was the best encryption that NSA could provide. Nobody but the president had anything close. The call was from his wife, Lorraine, to whom he rarely spoke about anything other than business.

  “Lorraine, what do you need?”

  “What are you doing, J.D.?”

  “Reviewing a foundation event speech. Is everything okay?”

  “Have you been under a rock, J.D.? Everything is not okay. We need to close the loop on this drug thing. Tedesco is your man, J.D. This is your show. I need this Reece guy dead and I need it to happen now. I am not going to let one of your get-rich-quick schemes take down my political career. I’ve given them access to all kinds of classified assets. They better not fuck this up.”

  “I know, I know. This guy has proven to be hard to kill. It’s not like we’re trying to take out a mess cook. What do you want me to do? Another attempt on him in his house would definitely raise some eyebrows.”

  “I want you to get on a plane and make those clowns understand that this needs to end now or we’re out and the deal is off. I don’t care how much money is on the table or what disease this thing is going to cure. I should have never let you talk me into this in the first place.”

  “Lorraine, I can’t go to L.A. I’ve got meetings here in New York.”

  “Jesus, J.D., isn’t there a skirt you can chase in California? I know damn well that your ‘meeting’ involves you and some blonde young enough to be your daughter. When are you going to grow up? You let your dick ruin your chances of becoming president. I’m sure as hell not going to let it ruin mine.”

 

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