by Jana DeLeon
“I can’t wait to hear this one,” Harrison said.
“Simple,” I said. “You don’t tell the other members of the team who the target is.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to tell them?” Morrow asked.
“You tell them it’s a kidnap recovery mission. That the wife of a foreign dignitary has been abducted and your intel places her in the building.”
“And when they see you? Or Ahmad?” Morrow asked.
“Since I look nothing like I used to, they’ll think I’m the wife,” I said. “If they see Ahmad, they are under orders to take the kill shot. Unless that’s changed.”
“No,” Morrow said. “That order stands. But I still think it’s risky sending them in blind.”
“How many operatives?” I asked.
“Three aside from yourself and Harrison on the inside team, three more on the perimeter,” Morrow said. “None of them were on the job in Miami.”
“So don’t keep them blind forever,” I said. “Let them enter the building, then tell them who the target really is. Even if there’s more than one mole and he’s in the new group, it will be too late to get word to Ahmad about the ambush.”
“The mole could still take out the other agents, in order for Ahmad to escape,” Morrow said.
“He won’t do that,” I said. “He’s a coward who’s interested in money. Faced with the choice of allowing Ahmad to be killed or exposing himself, he’ll fire the bullet personally.”
“She’s right,” Harrison said. “In fact, it’s perfect. And that’s on the long chance that there’s more than one mole, which I don’t believe. I think it’s one person, and I think it was an operative in the last group.”
“But even if this is successful,” Morrow said, “he’ll still remain unknown.”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “I have an idea about that too.”
“What’s the idea?” Morrow asked.
“We know Ahmad will send out a crew to recon if he gets a tip on my location,” I said. “I have some other properties we can use to set up a sting. I get the cameras up at each location, then you filter a different location back to each member of the previous team. That was five agents aside from Harrison, right?”
“Yes,” Morrow said.
“Then wherever Ahmad sends his crew, that’s our guy,” Harrison said. “I love it.”
“Won’t all those tips on your location make Ahmad suspicious?”
“I don’t see how,” I said. “He’s only going to get two—the fake one through the mole, and the real one.”
“Are you sure you can handle the cameras?” Harrison asked. “I can send someone I trust. That way you’re not exposed.”
“The property owner has a security person on staff who can handle the cameras,” I said. “I don’t have to do it myself. And no one would think anything of him being on property since he works for the owners.”
“If we’re using the mole for the fake location, then how are we going to get the real location to him?” Harrison asked.
“I have a friend who’s going to handle that,” I said.
“What kind of friend?” Morrow asked.
“The same friend who owns the properties we’re using and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave it at that.”
They were completely silent for several seconds.
“You’re keeping some interesting company down there, Redding,” Morrow said.
“You have no idea,” I mumbled, and hopefully, he never would.
“Is this friend of yours aware that he could sustain property damage?” Morrow asked. “And that since we were never there, I can’t guarantee we could cover the cost?”
“I’ve already asked,” I said. “That’s not an issue.”
“If Fortune’s friend is okay with all of this and she trusts them, then I’m good,” Harrison said. “I like the location and the plan to breach through the water. It eliminates the problem with infrared. We’ll need to get a diver down there to check the tunnel, though.”
“I’ve already done that. It’s clear. Three feet in diameter. I sawed through the grate on the canal end but given the slow flow of water, I don’t anticipate any chance of blockage as long as we don’t take forever to do this. If you’d rather, I can remove the old grate completely and get a temp one in place.”
“There’s an occupied office building across the canal from the warehouse,” Morrow said. “Won’t a diver in that location look odd?”
“I’d go at night or dressed as a city employee. It’s easy enough to put some stickers on a boat long enough to get the job done. People won’t blink twice at a government vehicle.”
“I still don’t like it,” Morrow said. “But then I haven’t liked anything about this since we started going after this bastard years ago.”
“Then let’s get this one off your list,” I said. “Heck, you might even think about retirement after this. Although with me resigning, your stress level might go down a notch or two.”
“Ha,” Morrow said. “We have to get you out alive first.”
“What do you need from us?” Harrison asked.
I gave him a list of supplies—weapons, security equipment, and a replacement grate if they decided it was needed.
“I need that security equipment ASAP,” I said.
“I’ll get it overnighted,” Harrison said. “What about the staged stuff? Cot, cooktop…”
“I’ll handle those items here. It will look less odd for me to purchase them than to have a ton of shipping containers show up at my doorstep.”
“Okay. We’ll get this handled,” Harrison said. “You let us know when the cameras are in place, and we’ll filter back the bad location information and see if we can ferret out the mole.”
“If we can get that guy out of the agency,” Morrow said, “it would go a long way to my feeling better about this.”
“Me too,” I said. “But I’m only giving it a couple days once the info is filtered. If no one shows, then we move forward anyway. When can your team be ready?”
“I’ve got them here in DC awaiting assignment,” Morrow said. “But I’m not going to be able to hold them here forever. There’s a lot going down in the sandbox.”
“You’re not going to have to hold them long,” I said. “Assuming the security equipment is all in working order, I’ll have it ready to go tomorrow, depending on delivery time. Two days to ferret out the mole, takedown after that.”
“Three to five days, then?” Morrow said. “You’re sure you can be ready in that time?”
“I’ve been ready,” I said. “And guys, if I don’t get a chance to say it later on—thank you.”
“I reject your thanks,” Harrison said. “At minimum, you owe me a beer, and I plan to collect just as soon as this is over.”
“Sounds good.”
And it did. I just hoped we were both in drinking condition when it was over.
Chapter Twelve
I stood at my kitchen window staring out at the bayou. Everything was in motion in DC and until I got the security cameras and passed them along to Mannie, I had nothing else to do. At least not for the takedown. Given everything that had transpired over the last couple days, and the fact that I’d spent an entire morning planning for a mission that might be my last one—one way or another—I couldn’t manage to sit still. I was restless. Itchy. The way I always was before an assignment, but this time it was so much worse.
Because this time, it means everything.
And that was the crux of it. This mission wasn’t my job. It was literally my life on the line. My future. And although I’d been trained to contain and control worry, this time none of the mental exercises I normally used were working. I checked my watch again and sighed when I saw it was only two minutes since the last time I’d checked it, which had been only one minute from the time before.
Finally, I picked up the phone and called Ida Belle and Gertie. Might as well chase that darn alligator or figure out a way to inspect more freeze
rs. Something. Anything was better than sitting here and going over everything that could go wrong with the takedown. Mentally rehashing it wouldn’t improve my odds.
Ida Belle and Gertie showed up in Ida Belle’s SUV about ten minutes later, which meant they’d probably spent their day on standby, in case I called. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to warrant such good friends, but boy did I appreciate them. More than they probably knew. I waved them in and they followed me to the kitchen where we all took a seat, no one saying a word.
They looked at each other, then back at me, and finally Gertie spoke. “I told you something was wrong,” she said to Ida Belle. “You could hear it in her voice.”
“Bring us up to speed,” Ida Belle said.
“There’s not much to say, really,” I said. “I selected the location and sent the information to Harrison. Then he and Morrow called and we discussed the details of the mission.”
Gertie’s eyes widened. “So it’s set? I mean, it’s definitely going to happen?”
I nodded. “It’s definitely going to happen.”
“When?” Ida Belle asked.
This was the sticky part. I knew I couldn’t leave them out entirely, but I also wasn’t about to let them in harm’s way. “Soon,” I said. “Probably within a week.”
“That fast?” Gertie asked. “Wow. I mean, we knew it was coming but now that it has a time frame on it, it seems so sudden.”
“The operatives Morrow selected are being held in DC,” I said. “They can’t be forever. The agency has other things they could be addressing.”
“Morrow and Harrison were good with your plan?” Ida Belle asked.
“‘Good’ is probably too strong a word, but no one threw out anything better,” I said. “The hard truth of the matter is our back is against the wall on this. Either I expose myself to get to Ahmad or I live looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life—and it probably wouldn’t be a very long one.”
Ida Belle nodded. “So what can we do? I sense an overwhelming need for distraction.”
“Yes,” I said, grateful for friends who actually got it.
“I remember that feeling before we went on a mission,” Gertie said. “It was one part excitement, one part concentration, and one part wanting to get sick.”
“The good ole days, right?” Ida Belle said and smiled.
I was one of the few people who knew about Ida Belle’s and Gertie’s real roles when they served in Vietnam. But even if they’d taken out a front-page ad, I doubted many would believe that the two seniors had been spies. Unless they knew them well, of course. Then so many things made sense. Still, they’d never talked much about their service, and I’d never asked. It was the same with Carter. I might technically be a civilian but I’d been in the middle of plenty of war games. I knew better than most the sort of things undercover operatives and Special Forces faced. Often, they weren’t the sort of memories people wanted to revisit.
“I bet you both were pistols,” I said and smiled, easily picturing a young Ida Belle and Gertie giving them hell overseas.
Gertie looked over at Ida Belle, and I could see the depth of their friendship in that single look. “We were something,” Gertie said.
“Still are,” Ida Belle said. “And still undercover. So what’s on the agenda? We can take a boat ride and look for that wayward alligator or we can pursue this missing food thing.”
“Did Ally find out who Clarissa is dating?” Gertie asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Let me check.”
Any news on Clarissa’s boyfriend?
I sent the text. I had put a bug in Ally’s ear after our chat with Braxton, and she was going to ask Francine. If that didn’t work, she would attempt to coax the information out of Clarissa.
My text alert went off and I checked the display.
Poot Lowery.
“What the heck is a Poot Lowery?” I asked.
Gertie shook her head. “The Lowery brothers are no good.”
The name suddenly clicked and I remembered a pair of brothers that had almost capsized me and Ally shortly after my arrival in Sinful.
“One of them is named Poot?” I asked. “Do I dare ask what the other is called?”
“Zit,” Ida Belle said, and grinned.
“Poot and Zit?” I stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me this time.”
“Couldn’t make that up even if I tried,” Ida Belle said.
“Okay, give me the story.”
Ida Belle gestured to Gertie.
“Poot was a gassy baby who became a gassy boy,” Gertie said. “And since he was raised by mannerless people, he thought it was funny to pollute a classroom or Sunday school class. So ‘Poot’ because he was always pooting.”
“And Zit? Acne problems?”
Gertie shook her head. “Short for ‘Smells It.’ People used to say one poots and the other smells it.”
“I swear to God you are making that up.”
“I’m not that creative,” Gertie said. “Or that gross. That was the kids’ doing.”
“And they allow people to call them that?” I asked, still confused.
Gertie shrugged. “They don’t seem to have a problem with it.”
“So not only does Clarissa date a troubled man,” I said, “but he’s stinky too.”
“Her choice in men and her mother’s choice in tile are setting back the women’s movement at least five decades,” Ida Belle said.
“I can see how a guy like Braxton might end up with a woman like Destiny—young guy, kinda geeky, can get the hot girl, sort of thing,” I said. “But what surprises me is that she married him and moved to Sinful. Doesn’t seem like the life a party girl would be looking for.”
Gertie nodded. “I asked her about it once. She told me he was the only one of her suitors who had a steady job and all his teeth.”
“In Louisiana, that makes perfect sense,” I said. “Okay, so now we know who Clarissa is seeing, but does that help us any as far as investigating goes? I don’t suppose you could pass off a request for decorating tips with someone who gladly goes by the nickname Poot.”
“No,” Ida Belle said, “but I think I know a way.” She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “Shorty,” she said. “This is Ida Belle. Say, do you still own that place off Bullet Bayou? Great. I know you were thinking about selling at one point…is that still in the cards? I have a friend in New Orleans looking for a weekend escape-the-wife sort of situation. He’s wanting right on the water for the fishing. Uh-huh. Oh, I didn’t realize. Well, if it’s okay with you, he asked me to scout anything I came up with first as I had a good idea what he was looking for and how much work he’s willing to do. I don’t suppose now works? Good. See you in five minutes.”
She shoved her phone back in her pocket and grinned. “We’re all set.”
“Was that Shorty the butcher?” I asked.
“Yep. He owns the cabin the Lowery brothers rent. He’s been thinking about selling it forever, but it’s wishful thinking as long as those two live there. The place is probably a pit. But he says the lease gives him permission to show the property, so we can pick up a set of keys and let ourselves in.”
“One small thing,” I said. “Didn’t you tell me once that Bullet Bayou earned its name because the inhabitants tended to shoot first and ask questions later?”
“That’s right.”
“And you think it’s a good idea to stroll into someone’s house. Even with keys from the owner, that sounds risky. I get the impression that the Lowery brothers won’t care about our legal standing.”
“We’ll knock on the door first,” Ida Belle said. “I wasn’t planning on strolling right in as if the place was vacant.”
“Maybe we should stroll in with bulletproof vests,” I suggested.
“But it’s so hot,” Gertie said. “I’m wearing a padded bra. That should do.”
“Why are you wearing a padded bra?” Ida Belle asked.
“Because underwire h
urts and gravity is not your friend. Besides, I can pull out some of the padding and have additional storage space.”
Ida Belle looked over at me. “We’re good. The Lowery brothers are mannerless, and I wouldn’t put petty theft or poaching past them, but I don’t think they’d shoot someone. That’s not the sort of trouble they usually go looking for.”
I shrugged. “You know them better than I do. I guess we’ve got a key to pick up then.”
We headed out to Ida Belle’s SUV and off to the butcher shop, where Gertie ran in and picked up the key. Then Ida Belle drove out of town and turned onto what passed as a road, which was in keeping with most of the roads in Sinful outside of the town limits. About a mile down, she made a turn off the “good road” and onto an even worse one. This one could charitably be called a trail for vehicles. Two strips designated the tire path. In between the tread-worn lines, weeds grew and the foliage pushed right up to the edge of the trail.
“If I remember correctly,” Ida Belle said, “it should be just a little ways up.”
“We’ve doubled back north far enough that we should be hitting water soon,” Gertie agreed.
“Or maybe we’ve entered one of those gateways like in the movies and the next thing you know, we’ll see dinosaurs,” I said.
“Dinosaurs would be an improvement over the Lowery brothers,” Ida Belle said. “And here we are.”
The trail ended in a small clearing of dirt with just enough room to park without hitting the front porch of the house. No other vehicles were parked out front, so I hoped that meant the Lowery brothers were off polluting and smelling the air somewhere far, far away. I gave the structure a once-over and have to admit, was a bit surprised. I’d expected something from a Stephen King novel, but aside from the normal wear and tear one would expect of a place exposed to these elements, it was rather nice.
“This isn’t bad,” I said. “Not at all what I expected.”
“You might want to withhold judgment until you get inside,” Gertie said. “Shorty built the place himself and he did a good job, so I’m not surprised it’s held up. But the outside walls aren’t getting near the abuse that the inside is.”