Caitlin's Conspiracies

by Mariella Starr

  Caitlin was released from the panic room only four hours after she’d been locked in. Unknown to Chase and Blake, she’d heard most of the transmissions and the innocuous ‘chat’ from the walkie-talkies through a state-of-the art prototype surveillance device she’d secured through her contacts on-line. She’d known exactly when Cramer and Dunbar had been taken into custody. She found herself on the outside of most of the discussions and questioning. She watched, sometimes she listened, but she didn’t volunteer any information. Blake’s protection assignment was skimmed over carefully and the technology used for security on the house was played down. To her knowledge the monitor room was never mentioned and neither was the panic room. How much of this information Blake had already divulged she didn’t know, but her orders from Blake and Chase were to keep her mouth shut as much as possible and not volunteer any information. It was an order that she didn’t mind obeying.

  It was seven in the morning when Blake drove the van out of the garage. This time the men in black were sitting up in the seats instead of lying down hidden from view.

  “Hungry?” Chase asked as they watched the van go down the lane. He had already secured the front door and proceeded to walk around the house making sure all the other windows and doors were secured.

  “I could eat,” Caitlin said, feeling very tired. “Pizza was a long time ago.”

  “It went down very easy. I especially like the nicknames. I hope that the arson inspectors found enough at my place to connect those two with that crime, too. Scrambled eggs, okay?”

  Caitlin nodded. “I’m going to check the monitors and make sure all the sectors are back up again.”

  Chase pulled her into a hug before she moved away. “Two down sweetheart, one to go.”

  “I underestimated Stevens before. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “We,” Chase said firmly. “We won’t make that mistake again.”

  Thirty minutes later, Caitlin joined him at the kitchen table. She was grinning.

  Chase slid a plate of food in front of her and narrowed his eyes. “Okay, what devious plan have you put into place now?”

  “Nothing new on that front,” Caitlin promised with a quick crisscross of her fingers across her heart. “Call Blake and tell him Stevens is on the move.”

  Chase snapped to attention. “What do you know?” he demanded.

  Caitlin took a bite of her eggs first and chewed deliberately. “He’s in flight from Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport to Denver at the moment. A flight plan was filed from DCA to DIA - direct flight, no layovers. Congressman Chapman of New Jersey owns the plane. I don’t know what his connection to Stevens is, but if I have time, I might scout around looking for it. It might be a little trickier to figure out what flight he catches out of Denver if it’s a private plane. I might not be able to get the plane pinpointed, but we’ll know when he’s in the air unless he ditches his keys. Even if he does, there’s a secondary bug but it’s only good for about twenty-five miles. Unless he strips naked, that one should stay on him since it’s attached to his toupee. We’ll know when he’s coming.”

  Chase put his fork down. “Blake is right. You are scary. Why weren’t you recruited for one of the agencies?”

  “I was, but I wasn’t interested,” Caitlin said seriously. “I never asked for any of this, Chase. All I ever wanted to do was have a nice peaceful life, write my software and raise and train my dogs and horses.”

  “You’ll get it back,” Chase promised kissing her on the top of the head. “We’re working on it. Just make sure you add a husband and a few babies into that plan of a peaceful life.”

  * * * * *

  “Caitlin! Get away from that window!” The command was sharp and snapped, demanding immediate obedience.

  Caitlin did as she was commanded, but she turned on him. “I’m so sick of being cooped up!”

  “Settle down, and stay away from the windows!” Chase growled. “I don’t want you taken out by sniper fire!”

  “It’s been five days!” Caitlin shouted. “Five days! The social media sites are buzzing, there have been millions of hits on the porn videos. The networks are claiming that they are taking the higher ground until the videos are verified and they keep saying that the Stevens camp is denying that the videos are real. Only three networks have actually reported on the porn videos with any kind of accuracy. I know they can’t show them, but they can report on them.”

  “They are reporting on them,” Blake said. “Only they’re not eviscerating him like you would like them to do. The videos have been pulled or blocked from some of the sites. Stevens is already toast; his political career is shot, there’s no damage control that will get him out of this mess. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to try, Caitlin.”

  “Is our public that stupid?” Caitlin demanded.

  “No, but our politicians are at their best when it comes to denial,” Blake answered. “Say something often enough and people will believe it. We’re living in a world of seven-second sound bites. That’s about all the news most people hear. They hear it, believe it, and go back to texting about their latest pedicure or dating problems.”

  “He’s here!” Caitlin snapped. “He was as close as twelve miles before we lost the signal! I’m going back to the monitors!”

  Blake looked over to Chase and shook his head. “She’s right, but she’s losing it. She’s a lot better behind the computers than she is in the day-to-day boring surveillance that we have to deal with.”

  “My gut says he’s going to try tonight,” Chase said. “He’s run out of time and I don’t believe he’s going to try to cut a deal with her. He’s going to try to take her out.”

  “Standard protocol, eliminate all witnesses,” Blake said.

  “Something jamming the monitors,” Caitlin yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Game on,” Blake said with a nod to Chase.

  Hours later, with absolutely nothing happening, Caitlin was still nervous and jumpy. Time seemed to be slowing down, they were constantly looking at the clock, their watches or phones. At eleven o’clock there were four simultaneous explosions and the house went pitch black. The electricity was gone and apparently so was the back-up generator.

  “It’s time,” Blake said grabbing Caitlin and forcing her down onto the floor. “Caitlin, I want you in the panic room.”

  She shook her head. “No, you need my help. Where’s your backup? Why don’t you have backup this time?”

  “They’re running late,” Blake, said, deflecting her questions. “They’ll be here.”

  “Why aren’t they here now? You had all those guys here to take out Cramer and Dunbar. There’s no one here now to help! It’s only you two and me!”

  “We know what we’re doing, you don’t,” Chase said. “No arguing, Caitlin. You’re going in, now!” He grabbed her arm and crawled across the floor, half dragging her to the top of the stairwell and down to the basement. He shoved a wooden panel in the wall aside that exposed a fireproof, tamperproof vault. “Don’t open up for anyone except me or Drake, promise.”

  Caitlin nodded her head, as Chase lowered his head and kissed her hard. “We’ll get him, sweetheart - Stevens’ or whoever he’s sent to do his dirty work.”

  Caitlin grabbed him. “It’s him, Chase. He’s dangerous and crazy. Anyone who thinks he can get away with what he’s been doing has to be crazy. He’s not even been trying to hide it that well. He thinks he’s above the law. Stevens spends a lot of time at those war game camps. He blogs about it all the time. He thinks he’s an expert, and I’ve driven him to the point where he’s deadly.”

  Chase looked at her with a steady gaze. “Honey, those camps are for guys that play games. Blake and I were both special operations. We don’t play games. We are the real thing. In you go, I want to hear that vault door lock!”

  Chase listened for the lock to click, but he didn’t trust her. He closed the hidden door, and with a nod at Blake who had appeared at his side,
they quietly moved a large and very heavy credenza against the panel. No way was she getting past that piece of furniture.

  Caitlin went inside reluctantly, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. Blake and Chase couldn’t do their jobs worrying about her. As soon as she was inside she fired up a state-of-the-art battery operated receiver set no larger than a pack of cigarettes and stuck the earpiece in her ear. She dug out a box of equipment and clothing that she’d hidden away after discovering it.

  With a single high-powered shot, the plate glass living room window shattered, the bullet imbedding in and destroying a small cabinet on the opposite wall. Upstairs, Blake and Chase were pulling on special operations gear: night camouflage, special frequency walkie-talkies, and some receiving devices that weren’t in the general publics’ hands yet. They had handheld heat detectors, night vision glasses, Kevlar vests and an arsenal of firearms. Overall they were weighed down with nearly forty pounds of gear. They wanted this to look real since part of it was real and dangerous. Employing their carefully planned strategy each left the house by a different exit. Blake neatly stepped out onto the front porch through the broken window. Chase circled around to the kitchen, only opening the bottom portion of a Dutch door that he’d deemed a security hazard on his first inspection of the house. From the downward trajectory of the bullet, the shot had come from the scaffolding around a wind turbine located on the right of the property, about 300 feet from the house.

  Neither Blake nor Chase had any doubt that the sniper had night vision, but if he climbed up the crossbars to get the height he needed, he also had to climb down. That would give them time to get into position.

  Twenty yards from his target, Chase spotted the man climbing down. He steadied his position and took his shot, dropping his target from a height of about twenty feet. He heard the thump of man’s body hitting hard-packed earth and his hiss of pain. His aim hadn’t been to kill, but to maim, and his target had a hole in his thigh at least an inch wide. He might still be able to move, but he was also bleeding out fast. Chase was close enough to see the man tie something around the top of his thigh as a tourniquet. Chase edged towards the man slowly and by the time he got to him, he was passed out. Shoving the man over on his stomach, he secured his hands and legs with zip ties before searching him for weapons. He turned his capture over, checked the tourniquet and sliced through it with his knife. Chase used his knife to rip through the man’s pants and slapped an Israeli bandage over the wound. He didn’t want the sniper dead. This one would be needed as a potential witness.

  Chase heard the strafing of a semiautomatic weapon and saw the flash of fire as he flattened himself to the ground. His mind was calculating - two assailants at least. Both not military trained because there wasn’t a flash suppressor on the rapid-fire weapon. The man he’d taken out wasn’t Stevens. Therefore, the second man was either Stevens or another accomplice assisting him. There was another strafing of bullets. Chase rolled, heading for Blake’s position.

  “I’m hit.”

  Those two words were all it took for Caitlin to break her promise. Counting her blessings that neither Blake nor Chase had neither detected nor investigated the ventilation shaft, she opened the small panel and shimmied her way out through the space that was only two feet wide by two feet deep, dragging the small black bag behind her. She emerged from the tunnel nearly seventy feet from the foundation of the house behind a large doghouse. She quickly dug into her bag, stuffed a nine-mm handgun in the back of her jeans and a small revolver in the front pocket, and pulled on a Kevlar vest. She crawled toward the part of the drive that split in three directions, one going to the house, another to a distant utility barn and the third to the wind turbine. She could hear voices in the darkness, but she couldn’t make out the words clearly. She was so scared that she couldn’t rely on her senses. Everything felt surreal.

  When she was close enough, she actually felt her blood run cold. Clifford Stevens was standing in front of Chase and Blake holding a military rifle that looked like the kind she saw in the news reports of soldiers. Another gun, the kind you saw in the old Rambo movies was slung over his shoulder. All three men were dressed for war, all in black, all looking dangerous. Blake and Chase weren’t holding guns. Blake was on the ground on a sitting position. Chase was standing above him.

  “Where’s the bitch?” Clifford Stevens yelled. “I want her now!”

  “You won’t get her,” Chase said evenly. “She’s smarter than you are, we knew you were coming and she’s gone. She has whole world to hide in Stevens, where are you going to hide after more of your videos are posted?”

  “No one is going to believe it. If you think you’ve got me boxed in, you’re stupid. You’re stupid! I was chosen! Do you hear me? I was chosen! Those videos will never be seen. As soon as they go up, they’ll go down. My people will take care of me because I am the one they want. I’m on a fast track, and in six to ten years, I’ll be president. No one is going to stop me!”

  “I don’t know what info you’re being spoon fed, Stevens, but you are history,” Chase growled. “No one is going to want to touch you again. You’re finished!”

  “No, my people won’t let me down,” Clifford Steven denied. “I’m the one they wanted! You’re both going to die, but how much you suffer will depend on how quickly you give up Foster. I know she hasn’t left this compound. Do you think you’re the only one that can hire competent help?”

  “What do you consider competent?” Blake demanded. “Your hired sniper is dead. Your so-called competent arsonists are in custody singing their heads off. A search warrant has already been issued and implemented. Every piece of computer equipment and every device you own is in federal custody. A warrant for your arrest has already been issued.”

  “Everything will disappear. My people have invested too much in me. The evidence will disappear. Just like you’re going to disappear,” Stevens snarled. “I’m not leaving anything to chance this time! Caitlin Foster was a mistake that should have been taken care of before. I told them to kill her. I’m correcting that mistake now and you two are going to die for the sport of it.”

  Caitlin was about to rise when a man in black seemed to roll over her and with one quick, hard clip to the jaw everything went black.

  Her assailant pulled out a roll of tape and taped her mouth shut and zip-tied her hands and feet. He searched her and removed her weapons quickly. He made a motion to his team members and they left her lying, unconscious on the ground and moved into position quickly.

  “Nothing will disappear,” Blake said. “Your short lived career will be a footnote in history as a total screw-up.”

  Stevens laughed, but his eyes were wild. “You guys are a jokes. Amateurs compared to my people. My people are politically connected and billionaires. They’ll get me where I want to be. I’m going kill both of you and torch this place. There’s no way any of you will survive the night.”

  Stevens jerked the rifle upward as three bullets fired by rifles fitted with silencers struck Clifford Stevens. It was a fatal hail of bullets. One struck him in the neck and two in the head. His body didn’t catch up with his instant death. For a moment, he stood wavering as if his body hadn’t yet received the message of its own lifelessness. Then he fell into a heap.

  Two men came out of the darkness dragging Caitlin. They dumped her in front of Stevens’ body.

  “This one was armed and about to step into the firing zone,” one of the men grunted.

  Chase and Blake both jolted.

  Chase grabbed for Caitlin, hauling her up and dragging her a distance away. He cut the zip ties and peeled the duct tape off her mouth. He gave her a hard shake, and when that didn’t work, he slapped her on the face lightly. “Cait! Wake up!

  “What?” Caitlin jerked awake. “What happened?”

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” Chase demanded.

  Blake was on his feet. “Damn it, Kid. How did you get out of there? You could have been killed!”
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br />   “You’re shot!” Caitlin exclaimed sitting up on the ground and moving her head about stiffly.

  Blake held out his arm. “It’s fake! We knew he was listening. It was a ploy to get him in the open and to get him talking.”

  Caitlin looked around and saw black-clad men coming out of the darkness everywhere. There were at least several dozen or more men all dressed like Chase and Blake and armed to the maximum. Most of them were carrying rifles with sniper scopes.

  “Don’t say a goddamned word, Kid” Blake growled as he stepped by her angrily. “Not a Goddamned word!”

  “Stay put!” Chase ordered also looking furious.

  They walked over the dead body of Clifford Stevens and spoke to another man. Two more men in black came out of the darkness carrying another man and speaking into headsets.

  Suddenly, there was a loud whopping sound and lights appeared in the darkness. Men set off flares and lit up the area further down the down the road from the wind turbine. The roar and wind of a helicopter landing whipped gravel and dirt at them so hard that those not running toward the helicopter turned their backs.

  “Is he dead?” Blake asked over his headset. “Good, keep him alive, he’s a prime witness.”

  Suddenly all the lights came on. The perimeter lights, the house lights, the driveway floodlights. Black trucks and utility vehicles seemed to come out of nowhere. Additional men were jumping out of the vehicles, setting up generators and additional floodlights. Men started marking off areas and walking with high beam flashlights pointed down at the ground. No one touched what was left of Clifford Stevens’ body. It was as if he didn’t exist. He would be ignored until the agency coroner arrived.