The Permit

by William B. Scott

  "I told him he did not have permission to go into Erik's condo, and that I'd be there as soon as I could. Besides, Kat was in the process of moving in, and she had a key. She'd protect any valuables, so there was no legal requirement for the PA to get involved."

  "I don't get it," Win said, shaking his head. "Why were they so adamant about getting into that condo? Did they have a warrant?"

  Kyler, who held a degree in criminology, clarified warrants and "officialdom's" rights in Nevada.

  "The PA supposedly doesn't need a warrant, Dad. That tells me Erik didn't do anything illegal, or he'd be considered a 'suspect.' If Erik had done anything wrong, the cops could have gotten a warrant to search the condo. Instead, they used the PA."

  Win slipped a credit card into a leather ticket jacket and handed it to the waitress.

  "Okay, so the cops desperately needed something from the condo, but we don't know what or why. Anything else missing? Something not listed on the PA's inventory form?"

  "Besides the four guns? Not that we know of.

  "But what the PA and cops didn't take is more interesting," Kyler said, lowering his voice. "Dad, there were four more gun cases with rifles in them, under the bed. The dorks ignored every one of them, and left all kinds of 'valuables,' like a printer, an iPod dock, and several high-dollar watches. Erik's company laptop was on the desk, four feet from the front door.

  "If the dumb ass was so worried about 'securing' weapons and valuables, why ignore a raft of guns, computer equipment and watches? Instead, he took the West Point saber—the one you and Mom gave Erik for graduation—a cheap, plastic watch that was on his desk, next to the computer… and random other stuff!"

  "They grabbed what they wanted, and took a few other items to make the break-in look legit," Win concluded. "Don't be surprised if those missing semiautos show up at a crime scene in the next few weeks. Some cop will use 'em as 'throwdowns.'

  "Perfect way to discredit Erik, implying he was selling guns on the black market or something like that. This whole PA crap stinks."

  * *

  Before 3:00 p.m., Trace parked in a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf lot. Win climbed out and pointed to a Ho's warehouse store about 100 yards away, across West Park Run Drive.

  "That's where it happened?" he asked. Kyler nodded.

  "Damn it's hot!" Win exclaimed. Afternoon temps in Vegas routinely topped 105 degrees this time of year. For one accustomed to Colorado's cool mountain air, the desert heat was staggering.

  "That's 'cause we're in Hell, Dad."

  Win shot a grimace at Kyler and nodded.

  Inside, Win ordered iced-coffee drinks, while Kyler greeted two of Erik's friends. He then introduced Win to Max Decimus and Rico Rodolfo. Both mumbled heartfelt condolences.

  "Mr. Steele, Erik was one of the finest men I've ever known," Rodolfo said. "I can't believe… ."

  "I know, Rico. Still doesn't seem real."

  Win looked past the dark-haired young man as a well-dressed, mid-forties woman entered the shop, carrying a leather folder. She immediately spotted Kyler, hustled over, and gave him a hug.

  Sofia Knight, Win assumed. Attractive and full-figured, she was dressed in dark suit pants and a plain white blouse. A tasteful gold-chain necklace accented a long, regal neck. Light brown hair had been pulled back and fastened, allowing a thick pony tail to settle around her shoulders. Small gold hoops served as earrings.

  Kyler introduced his dad to Sofia, who took Win's right hand in both of hers. She expressed sincere sympathy, and assured him that she would help Win and his family "with whatever you need. Anything!" Large, intelligent blue eyes underscored the words.

  Once the group had settled around a knee-high coffee table, Sofia said, "I want to take a look at Ho's and get a feel for what happened."

  The shop's door opened, admitting an unusually tall, thin woman with long, almost black hair. Kyler, Max and Rico greeted her with hugs, then introduced Erik's girlfriend, Katrina Hart.

  The young woman was striking. High cheek bones and angular features accented a model's shapely figure. Large, dark eyes ringed in red and disturbed mascara confirmed Kat had been crying.

  Voice wavering, she said, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Steele. If only I hadn't made Erik go to Ho's… ." She choked and covered her mouth. Tears were flowing again.

  Win squeezed her hand. "Wasn't your fault, Kat."

  She wiped her eyes and accepted a drink from Max.

  Sofia asked Kat a few questions, gently probing for details about what Erik had been doing in Ho's, before the place was evacuated. To everyone's surprise, Kat said, "I'll show you, if you want."

  "Are you up to that?" Sofia asked. "Going into that store won't be easy."

  "I know. If it'll help, though… ," Kat began. She took a deep breath and swept a shock of hair behind an ear. "My doctor put me on tranquilizers Saturday night. I… I believe I can handle it."

  Armed with cardboard cups, the group crossed the street to Ho's expansive parking lot. Win and Kyler flanked Kat, who was dressed in tight jeans, a collarless blouse and high heels.

  Sofia, Max and Rico entered Ho's roll-up entry door ahead of the other three. Kat made a point of skirting a distinct smear on the concrete, several feet from the store's entrance.

  "Is that where Erik… ?" Win began, staring at the swirl.

  Kat nodded, holding a hand over her mouth. Kyler took an elbow and gently steered her inside.

  Win remained, fixated on the smudge.

  My son's lifeblood. Mopped up and pitched out as dirty water.

  An oppressive force squeezed his torso, an invisible steel band. Again, he could hardly breathe.

  The group waited, while Sofia showed a membership card, then strolled along a broad center aisle, headed for the camping section. Kat was physically trembling, hugging herself and holding a hand over her mouth.

  Win took her hand and squeezed it firmly. "Hang in there," he said quietly. "We can do this."

  She returned the squeeze.

  As they passed a wall of high shelves, Kat suddenly pivoted and grabbed Win's bicep.

  "That's him!" she hissed, eyes wide, panicked.

  "Who?" Win tried to see around Kat's dark mane. Sofia grabbed Kat's elbow and repeated the question.

  "Him! The guy who pointed out Erik to the cop!"

  Kat was on the verge of losing it. Win took her trembling hands and put his lips close to her ear.

  "Kat, I want to see that jerk up close. We're going to walk down there, and you're going to verify that it really is the same guy," he said firmly. She nodded, dark, frightened eyes holding his.

  Together, the attractive twenty-four-year-old and what appeared to be a sugar daddy strolled down the aisle, hand in hand. With the other, Kat gripped the elder Steele's upper arm tight enough to inflict pain.

  Win looked askance at a chocolate-skinned, overweight, thirty-something with spiked jet-black hair. Thick eyebrows angled inward, aimed at a furrowed zone above a broad nose. Dressed in rumpled, oversized jeans, a dark-gray T-shirt and dirty tennis shoes, he had one elbow propped on a metal shelf, talking into a cell phone. Speaking loudly, the guy was patently boasting.

  That was Hajji Taseer, Ho's-Summerlin's undercover Loss Prevention Officer.

  Little piss-ant. Tin god with an ounce of power, Win concluded. That worthless bastard killed Erik!

  One pass, and Win had the pudgy cockroach pegged. They reversed course and approached Taseer from behind. Win again eyed the punk, sensing an arrogance and false cocksureness radiating from a minimal-intelligence, mean-spirited being.

  Every ounce of Win's considerable self-control was required to not kick the jerk's feet from under him, throw the little turd to the floor, and kick him in the face. Maybe a two-handed cranium-twist to polish off the maggot.

  Instead, Kat and a tight-lipped Win Steele turned right at the aisle's end and joined the others.

  "Well?" Sofia asked, head cocked.

  "I'm absolutely sure," Kat choked. "He's the on
e. He pointed at Erik and said, 'That's him.' To the bald cop. The scared one that shot Erik."

  She ducked and buried her face in both hands, fighting the onset of another flood.

  Win wrapped an arm around her narrow, shaking shoulders. Addressing Sofia, Kyler, Max and Rico, Win summarized his quick-and-dirty assessment of the Ho's undercover security guard. Sofia nodded, shooting brief glances down the aisle.

  "He's a loser," Win concluded. "Max, get a picture of that moron, would you? Maybe we can get an ID on him."

  Decimus had been taking photos of the store's security cameras, using an iPhone.

  Sofia placed a hand on Kat's arm. "Hon, can you show us where Erik was, when the manager first confronted him?"

  Kat nodded, turned into Aisle 126, and pointed at a stack of metal water bottles.

  "He was here, making sure three of those bottles would fit into one of these coolers."

  Kat picked up a soft-sided, zippered Kool Pac and opened it. Knees together, she squatted and demonstrated, describing how Erik was fit-checking the bottles, when he'd been challenged by a Ho's manager.

  "When I came around the corner, with the cart, the Ho's guy and Erik seemed to be… you know… just talking. I didn't see any tension, and they weren't arguing."

  Sofia and Win asked clarifying questions, and Kat answered them readily, confidently.

  Kyler watched the young woman closely.

  She's holding it together. Maybe a little too together, he thought.

  Harsh, yes. Maybe overly critical, too suspicious. That was his nature. He couldn't help it. Kat had forced Erik to come in here. Erik hated shopping, and was probably annoyed, after two hours of it.

  If he hadn't been in this damned hole, he'd be alive. Mean and unfair, maybe, but it's how Kyler felt. Pretty women had always been Erik's Achilles’ Heel, and one had gotten him killed.

  Later, beneath the Ho's entryway canopy, Kat was reliving the horror of Erik's deadly encounter with "the fat, bald cop." She explained where the officer had stationed himself at the store's entrance. How she and Erik calmly walked out that door. How Erik had been a few steps ahead of her in the crowd and walked past the Metro officer. Where Erik had been, when the cop started screaming. How Erik had turned and frozen, when confronted by a scared, sweaty officer pointing a gun at him and shouting conflicting commands. How Erik had raised the T-shirt with his left hand, exposing an inside-the-waistband, holstered firearm on his right hip, and elevating his right elbow to show the weapon.

  And the cop immediately firing. Two shots, then a brief gap in the gunfire. Erik's shocked expression, his wounded right leg buckling, as he tried to step back. His haunting, dumbfounded eyes locked on Kat's, as if screaming, "What the hell happened?"

  Erik falling and twisting, hazel eyes glazing over, becoming a sightless stare, as his head smashed onto the concrete.

  Another flurry of loud, jolting explosions. Erik's body flinching, as five more slugs slammed into his back.

  Kat moved from one spot to another, reliving the horrific nightmare in detail. Kyler listened closely, features impassive, eyes tracking Kat's movements.

  Win forced himself to breathe, but his chest and gut ached, muscles refusing to relax. He concentrated, though, listening and searing into memory each tidbit.

  Remember it all. Every detail, his engineer's mind demanded. This was the data-gathering phase. Absorb. Memorize. Soak everything up. Analysis and interpretation would come later.

  Rico Rodolfo stood behind Win. He held an iPhone under the tip of his chin, as if listening intently. The smartphone's position appeared to be a pensive quirk. It wasn't. The Checkmate-issued smartphone was surreptitiously video recording each word Kat uttered, every move she made. Rico had done the same in the camping aisle, while Kat described Erik's activities and encounter with the manager.

  Sofia noted two Ho's employees in red vests watching Kat closely. One pointed at Max, who was photographing signs mounted on a block wall, adjacent to Ho's entrance and exit doors. Not a single sign alerted customers to the store's "NO FIREARMS" policy.

  "Okay, Kat," Sofia interjected. "That's enough for now. You guys beat it, before Ho's pea-brains hassle us," she directed, nodding at the two red-vests. "I'm going to stick around a little longer."

  "Is that a good idea?" Win asked, eyeing the hostile employees.

  Sofia grinned and stage-whispered, "I want to generate a little tension. You go ahead."

  She looked up, pointedly observing security cameras mounted under the portico's roof. Over her shoulder, she announced to the departing group, "Yeah, no sweat. The video will definitely show Erik never touched his weapon."

  * *

  Subdued, Win, Kyler and Kat crossed the Ho's parking lot in silence. Max and Rico trailed them, quietly discussing Kat's description of that awful Saturday. They waited for a break in traffic, then jogged across the street to the Coffee Bean.

  Joining Win and Kyler, Max said, "You guys have plans tonight? You're welcome to come over and hang out."

  "Thanks, dude," Kyler said. "We're meeting a PR guy Dad hooked up with."

  "Lincoln Mann," Win added. "Said he'd worked with you and Erik on that South Strip condo project."

  "Link Mann?" Max asked, surprised. "Yeah. Good guy. How do you know him?"

  "I don't. A friend in Colorado Springs suggested Link could help us. I called this morning, and he volunteered to handle the media."

  "Awesome! The TV mice have been all over us. Especially you, right? Because you worked with E-Dog?" Max asked Rico.

  "Yeah, day and night. Driving my wife nuts."

  "Well, you both have done superb interviews," Sofia declared, appearing behind Win and Kyler. "You came across as credible, and articulately depicted Erik as a primo citizen. I was impressed."

  "Thanks," Max said. "Win, a couple of reporters have been pressuring us for 'family' contacts. Some are real jerks. Link knows all the good news-dudes, though."

  "Any of them been bugging you, Kat?" Win asked, concerned. The young woman had been tight-lipped, arms folded.

  She shook her head. "They don't know who I am."

  "Then let's keep it that way," Sofia declared. "You're the prime witness, Kat. Anything you say in public can and will be used against Erik—and possibly you. I recommend you stay low profile—at least for now."

  "Why?" Kat flared. "I want everybody to know what really happened! I was there, and the cops are all lying! Those bastards murdered Erik!"

  Pulling Kat aside, Sofia eventually convinced the young woman that keeping a low profile would work to her advantage.

  "Your story will have major impact, but only at the right time and place," the attorney stressed.

  Kat checked her watch and announced that she had to leave. Another round of hugs, and the group broke up.

  Sofia waited, then addressed Kyler and Win. "I'll talk to a few people, but I'm ninety-nine-percent sure you have a solid wrongful-death case. Could we get together at my office on Thursday to discuss a go-forward plan?"

  The Steeles agreed. Win traded business cards with Sofia, noting, "That number's my BlackBerry."

  He didn't mention the crypto-secure "Bat Phone" in his pocket.

  * *

  FORT DETRICK, MARYLAND

  Gray Manor and a U.S. Army specialist secured a well-insulated aluminum Halliburton case in a Range Rover's cargo area and closed the hatch.

  "Better hope some joker doesn't rear-end you, sir," the specialist said. The soldier, wearing a white lab coat over his uniform, wasn't smiling. "You really don't want those bio-bugs floating around in your rig."

  "No worries. I drive like an old lady. Thanks for the heads-up, though."

  Manor waved, slid behind the wheel and fastened his seat-belt.

  Maybe this wasn't too smart, he mused, backing from a parking slot reserved for flag officers. A lifelong hands-on manager and leader, he'd opted to drive himself up to Fort Detrick, near Frederick, Maryland.

  Checkmate comprised mos
tly covert operators scattered across the nation. His Washington-based support staff was virtually nonexistent.

  Besides, he'd wanted a firsthand briefing about pathogens and biowarfare agents under development by the U.S. government at Fort Detrick. A particularly nasty variety was riding behind him, in that Halliburton case.

  Todd Bright had barely saddled his Checkmate director with a presidential directive to immediately launch Operation Gold Shield, before suggesting Manor "run up to Fort Detrick and see what our boys have cooked up. I suspect you'll find their science projects to be very interesting."

  Todd's "boys" were cutting-edge Department of Homeland Security scientists conducting research at the brand new National Biodefense Analysis and Countermeasures Center (NBACC). It was no coincidence that the fledgling center was being constructed near the U.S. Army's storied Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases.

  Manor exited two guard gates and worked his way back to Interstate 270. Settling in for an hour-plus trip to Washington, he reviewed the NBACC briefing he'd received. A good bit of the biowarfare jargon had zipped past him, but he'd clearly grasped the ramifications of powerful "bio bugs" contained in those two dozen vials he was now transporting. Frankly, the genetically engineered prions in those glass tubes scared the hell out of him.

  God help anyone infected with them, he thought.

  Thanks to their own crimes and misdeeds, specific people had already been identified to receive injections of the deadly agents. Those recipients would be Checkmate's first Operation Gold Shield targets.

  Manor activated the Code Red subsection of his secure iPhone, and thumb-tapped a number for Nat Preston, the Homeland Security liaison in Las Vegas.

  "Yo, general! What's up, sir?"

  "Several things, Nat: One, Checkmate's been tasked with a new mission, and we're launching it in Las Vegas. I'll be flying in late this week to brief the team. Two, has a funeral been arranged for Erik Steele yet?"

  "Roger on One, and I don't know on Two," Preston quipped. "Might check with Castle. He worked closely with Comet, and he's in touch with Erik's brother."

  "Alright, will do. Anything new on Comet's murder? I've been on the road all day."