FBI OFFICE — NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
Lexie’s supervisor, Mark Clarkson, was staring at a blank screen, cursing the IT guy who obviously had not gotten around to repairing his computer.
“Going that well?” Lexie asked.
“Oh, hi, Lexie. Come in. This damn thing never works. I’ve been locked out of my account three times this week, but somehow it’s always my fault. What do these so-called computer experts do all day?”
“Why, Mark, are you saying that the premier law enforcement agency in the world has shit for computer technology?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’ve got to retire soon. Instead of getting better, the Bureau seems to be crumbling at my feet.”
Mark looked up from his computer screen. “Have a seat. How was the undercover school?”
“Good. Always nice to be a role player and not a candidate. It’s much more enjoyable to be the abuser instead of the abused.”
Mark laughed.
“Do you remember Adam Harper? He was the agent who I worked for in California last year.”
“I remember him. Why?”
“Well, he approached me while I was at the undercover school.”
“Don’t tell me that he wants you back out in California for another undercover role?”
“Not exactly. He’s been promoted and is working at headquarters in the Undercover and Sensitive Operations Unit.”
Mark’s eyebrows arched. “And?”
“And, he has a case that he thinks I would be a perfect match for out of the Columbia Division.”
“South Carolina? What on earth does he want you to do there?”
“He needs an undercover agent who has experience working extremist groups, preferably a Southerner. I fit the bill in both respects. It’s similar to what I did in California on Operation Blind Fury, but instead of the Animal Liberation Front, I’d be chasing down Earth Liberation Front cell members.”
“What in the hell are members of ELF doing in South Carolina? I don’t know much about the extremist movement, but I’ve never heard of an attack in the South. Don’t they usually stay in the Pacific Northwest, or on the West Coast?”
“That’s what makes this case so interesting. It seems the activists are targeting a land development company in the South. The Myrtle Beach RA is running the investigation, but the agents are out of their element on this one. They’re putting together an undercover operation, and they need an agent with experience working the extremist groups, preferably an agent with a Southern accent.”
“Well, Lexie, that narrows it to precisely you, I guess.”
“That’s what I thought.” Lexie smirked.
“And you want me to get permission from the SAC to let you go traipsing about the South Carolina swamps?”
Lexie nodded.
Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re becoming a pain in the ass. When are you going to work some cases in New Orleans?”
Lexie hung her head.
Mark leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as he contemplated. “Are you sure you want to do this, Lexie? Operation Blind Fury took a toll on you personally and professionally. Do you really want to work another long-term case?”
Lexie’s head popped up. “Yes, sir. I’m definitely ready. I’m not sure if I can work my way into this group like the last time, but I want to try.”
Mark leaned forward, staring at Lexie from across his desk. He exhaled loudly and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try to make it happen. No promises, but I’ll go to the SAC with the request. You’d better work on getting a new set of alias identification. Since your last case went to trial, you can’t use the name Lexie Taylor anymore.”
“I’ll get on that right now. Thank you, thank you!”
“No promises.”
“I know you, Mark. You’ll make it happen.”
Mark smiled a toothy grin. “Get out of here and get some work done before I change my mind.”
“Yes, sir,” Lexie gave Mark a faux salute and dashed out of his office.
3
JUNE 2013 — MYRTLE BEACH, SOUTH CAROLINA
Lexie arrived at the Myrtle Beach Airport exactly two weeks after her conversation with Mark. She strolled over to the baggage claim and spied two men leaning against the wall watching the crowd. The younger of the two men wore a baseball cap embossed with the University of South Carolina emblem, his hands stuffed into his front pockets. He noticed Lexie, pulled his hands from his pockets and nudged his buddy with his boney elbow. The second man looked at Lexie and acknowledged her with a quick dip of the head. Lexie approached the two and smiled.
“You must be Zach and Don.”
The one with the cap smiled and extended his right hand. “I’m Zach Sheehan, this is Don West,” he said, motioning toward his partner. Zach shuffled his feet like a teenage boy on a first date and looked to be just shy of thirty. Don’s unruly curly hair gave him a youthful appearance, but the fine lines around his eyes showed that he had some age on him. Dressed in freshly pressed khaki pants and a silk Tommy Bahama shirt, he did not look like an FBI agent. Lexie was relieved that neither of the agents’ dress screamed federal agent. The case hadn’t started yet, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her with law enforcement personnel.
Lexie shook hands with both men.
“I’m Lexie Montgomery. Nice to meet you.”
“I’ll take your backpack,” Don said as he reached for Lexie’s overstuffed bag. Lexie handed him the pack and the three walked over to the conveyor belt to wait for her luggage.
“How many bags did you check?” Don asked.
“Since I’m hoping to stay for a while, I packed two.”
“We’re glad that you’re here. Zach and I don’t have a clue about these extremists and we need all the help we can get. The story caught the attention of the governor and you know what that means.”
“Sure do,” Lexie said. “It puts us under a microscope, which is never a good thing. Also, media attention fuels the fire of these extremist types.”
“So you see why we’re happy you’re here,” Zach said. “We’ll get you settled in and give you all the details that we have on the actions.”
“Actions? As in plural? I thought there was just one?”
Zach and Don exchanged a glance.
“Another job site was vandalized late last night.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No, the night security guard was at an all-night gas station picking up some food,” Zach answered. “We’re still checking his story.”
The black flaps on the conveyor belt opened and Lexie’s luggage was among the first bags to appear.
“That was quick,” Lexie said. “My bags just rolled out.”
“The green one?” Zach asked.
“Yep, and the yellow one, too.”
“I’ll grab them for you.”
“Thanks.”
Zach and Lexie rolled the bags out to a black Suburban parked in the lot. The three loaded up in the vehicle and as Lexie watched the palm trees through the side window she thought, Here we go again.
***
Zach and Don drove Lexie to a small condominium in Litchfield, the adjoining community to Pawleys Island. It was an older complex, but fairly well kept. A small pool graced the entrance to the property. An abandoned playground had fallen into disrepair, the children of the complex long grown and gone.
“We rented you a condo in the back,” Don said. “Your undercover vehicle arrived yesterday. Some supervisor at headquarters made sure that this particular car was shipped to us from California for you to use. Although I have no idea why, because the car is a piece of shit. It probably cost more to ship than the car is worth.”
A huge smile crept across Lexie’s face when she saw the beat-up Volkswagen Bug parked in the end spot.
Zach noticed the smile. “I guess the car has sentimental meaning,” he said.
“It does. It’s the car that I used out in California on my first undercover ass
ignment. I can’t believe that Adam had it shipped here.”
“Adam, that’s the guy. Yeah, he was adamant that the car be shipped here for the case. Something about he owed you a smile after your last experience.”
“He owes me more than a smile, but it’s a start.”
“The car has been re-registered in your new undercover name, Alexis Lynne Perry.”
“That’s a good name,” Lexie said. “I was Lexie Taylor in my last long term case. Now I have to get used to being Lexie Perry.”
Don grabbed Lexie’s backpack while Zach and Lexie rolled the suitcases to the bottom floor unit. Don looked annoyed as Zach struggled with the older lock. The mechanisms finally connected and the door made a loud creaking noise as it opened. The three stepped through the doorway and Don turned on the living room lights.
Lexie stepped through the threshold and peered at her new home.
She scrunched up her nose. “I hope no one died in here.”
Don laughed. “It smells like an old folks’ home.”
Zach turned on the lights in the rest of the condo so Lexie could have a look around.
The condo was in bad need of an update. The kitchen walls were painted an avocado green and the outdated appliances looked like they had seen better days.
“Al Bundy called and he’s looking for his appliances,” Lexie said.
Zach and Don stared at her.
“I’m just kidding, guys. Lighten up. This place is fine.”
Zach exhaled a sigh of relief.
“How did you guys find this place, and whose name is on the lease?”
“An agent in our office has a trusted contact who helps us out from time to time,” Don explained. “The contact hooks us up with rental properties when we need to stay below the radar.”
Lexie felt her stomach drop. “An undercover agent didn’t rent the apartment?”
“No, but the source who rented it for us is reliable,” Zach said. “We’ve used him several times. He’s quick and efficient.”
Lexie ran her hands through her mop of blond hair.
“We wouldn’t put you in danger,” Don said. “This guy is vetted. He’s a friend to the Bureau.”
Lexie chewed her bottom lip.
Don continued, “You undercover agents are always so paranoid. Trust us.”
“I trust you guys, but I don’t trust any source, no matter how good you say he is. Does he know that he rented it for an undercover agent?”
“I’m not sure what Tony told him. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll find out exactly what Tony told the source.”
“Yes. Please do. Actually, I’d like to talk to Tony myself.”
Don and Zach exchanged a glance.
“Is there a problem?” Lexie asked.
“No problem,” Don said. “I’ll set up a meeting for tomorrow morning.”
***
Lexie felt like she had stepped back in time when she entered the diner the next morning. Most of the stools lining the scratched, laminate counter were filled with the usual breakfast crowd: old men thumbing through the local newspaper, young men in various blue collar uniforms, and a few people waiting for carryout orders. A glass display behind the counter held a variety of flakey fruit pies and heavily frosted layer cakes. The beckoning aroma of brewing coffee filled the air.
A waitress wearing a nicely pressed red and white striped uniform made eye contact with Lexie.
“I’m expecting a few friends,” Lexie said.
“No problem, hon. Sit anywhere you like.”
Lexie selected a booth by the window. She slid across the worn out, cracked red vinyl bench and sat next to the window so she could watch for Zach and Don. As she sat facing the door, the traditional law enforcement “gun fighters” seat, it occurred to her that she now had to unlearn all cop habits again and get back in a common citizen frame of mind.
The black Suburban rolled in right on time. Both agents were dressed in jeans and wearing baggy shirts to conceal their weapons. Watching the two men stroll up to the front door, it was obvious to Lexie that the older agent was the mentor to the younger.
Zach spotted Lexie and gave her a nod.
“Gentlemen,” Lexie said.
“Good morning, Lexie,” Zach said. “Did you get some rest last night?”
“I did. Thank you.”
Zach took the seat next to Lexie and Don slid in on the other side so he was facing her.
The sturdy waitress strolled over to the table carrying a stainless steel thermal carafe.
“Who wants coffee?” she asked.
The three turned over the coffee cups in front of them in unison.
“We’re waiting on a fourth person,” Zach said.
“No problem, I’ll bring you some menus.”
The waitress returned and handed each person a menu, leaving a fourth one in the empty spot.
Lexie stirred her now caramel colored coffee.
“Lexie,” Zach started and stopped.
Lexie took a sip and stared at Zach.
“In case we didn’t mention it, Tony can be a little difficult at times.”
“Difficult, huh?”
“He rubs some people the wrong way.”
“I’ve been in the Bureau going on eight years. I’ve come in contact with more than my fair share of assholes. One more won’t make a difference to me.”
“Okay, as long as you’re prepared. Some women find Tony rather offensive.”
“Speak of the devil,” Don said as he motioned toward the window.
A man driving a gray Ford Taurus pulled into the space next to Lexie’s Volkswagen Beetle. The driver’s side door opened and smashed into the Beetle.
“Seriously?” Lexie said. “He just dinged my door.”
“That’s Tony,” Zach said. “The world rotates around him. Nothing else matters.”
Wearing a tan colored, tightly-fitted suit, a light blue shirt, and a green and navy striped tie, Tony strutted to the front door. Taking power dressing to the next level, he exuded confidence in his soft leather, Italian loafers without socks.
The agent immediately spotted his co-workers and approached the table. “Why do you insist on meeting in a greasy spoon?” he asked.
He extended his hand to Lexie. “I’m Antonio Russo, but you can call me Tony.”
Ugh, Lexie thought to herself. I know your type.
Zach rolled his eyes. “Tony, this is Lexie.”
After shaking hands with Lexie, Tony plopped down in the empty spot. He perused the colorful menu.
“Gotta love a place with photographs of the food on the menu,” Tony said sarcastically. “I need to get you boys eating at classier establishments.”
Tony’s dark eyes stood out from his olive skin. Every strand of his inky black hair was in its intended place.
This guy uses more hair product than I do, Lexie thought.
“You dinged my car.”
Tony stared at her.
“Just now, when you got out of your car. You slammed your door into my car.”
Tony looked out the window at the Volkswagen.
“That piece of shit is yours? I don’t think a small dent is going to affect the resale value at this point.”
The server approached the table with her coffee carafe.
“Would you like coffee?” she asked Tony.
Tony picked up his coffee cup and examined the inside.
“Sure. Why not. How bad can it be?”
The server rolled her eyes and poured the hot liquid into his cup.
All three agents were staring at Tony.
“What?” Tony asked.
“You’re such a dick,” Don said after the waitress walked away.
Tony snickered. “Yeah, whatever. So, why have I been called to this cloak and dagger meeting?”
The waitress came back with her order pad.
“Are you ready to order?” she asked.
Lexie looked up and smiled. “I’ll have the daily breakfast
special.”
“Make that two,” Zach said.
“Three,” Don added.
The waitress stared at Tony.
“I’ll stick with coffee,” Tony said.
After the waitress left, Lexie took the reins.
“I understand that you have a source who rented the Litchfield condo for us.”
Tony looked around to see if anyone could overhear them.
“Yeah, so?”
“I need to know what you told him.”
Tony took a sip of his coffee and stared at Lexie. “I told him to rent me an apartment and to keep it quiet. That’s all he needed to know.”
“He didn’t ask what you were going to do with it?”
“This guy has been my source for a couple of years. He knows to not ask questions. He does what he’s supposed to do and I pay him well. What’s the fucking problem?”
Lexie took a breath and leaned across the table so no one else in the restaurant could overhear.
“I’ll tell you what the fucking problem is, Tony. Your source, however reliable he is, rented an apartment for an undercover agent. That’s not cool. No one should know that I’m an agent. What if he decides to mouth off to his friends or to a girlfriend. All it takes is one person talking too much, then my cover is blown.”
“You’re so full of yourself, girl.” Tony said. “My source has better things to do than worry about who’s living in the condo or why. He rented it for me, gave me the keys, now he’s done with it. That’s how it works here.”
“Forgive me if I’m not impressed,” Lexie said. “It’s my life on the line, so I like to make sure things are done by the book.”
“If we would’ve done things by the book, you wouldn’t be starting this goat rope for another three months. That’s how long it would have taken to get a certified undercover to travel here to rent the damn apartment for you. My guy did it in one afternoon.”
“My alias has a full credit history,” Lexie hissed. “I could have rented it myself.”
“Stop bitching at me, sweetheart. It wasn’t my idea. Your buddy Don here asked for a favor. I lent a hand to a fellow agent and now you’re busting my balls.”
Lexie glared at Don.
“He’s telling the truth,” Don said. “I wanted you to be able to hit the ground running instead of spending the first month getting established. I was trying to save time.”
Beyond the Cabin Page 3