by Blink, Bob
“Something you said after I convinced you what I could do,” Jake admitted. “You asked why I didn’t piggy-back the jumps. I’d never considered that before. After one jump, one’s immediate thought isn’t to make another. Physically and mentally it isn’t appealing. If you could do it you would understand.”
“And it worked?”
“Obviously,” Jake said. “I was anxious to extract myself from the personal nightmare I was in, but also doubtful that the attempt would work at all. If it did, there remained the question of how many jumps I would be able to string together. Several would be required to get back far enough to be able to help. Waiting around would only increase the number of jumps and increase the risk of failure. Since two weeks had passed without much being uncovered, I decided it was time to make the attempt.”
“And it obviously worked” Carlson said, “as here you are.”
“It was close. Getting back and then out of the facility was a bit dicey. I wouldn’t want to tackle that again. It could have easily turned sour.” Jake couldn’t help glancing at Laney as he spoke. Laney caught the glance, but didn’t know how to interpret it.
“Continuing to accept for the moment that you are correct, where in Atlanta was the bomb triggered?”
“Can you bring in a map of the city?” Jake asked.
Carlson nodded and Laney left the room. He returned five minutes later with something he’d printed from the Internet. Jake guessed that was faster than trying to retrieve a map from wherever they kept such things.
Laney laid the legal sized sheet on the table. Jake picked up one of the pencils and drew the slightly oval boundary that Carlson had shown him when she had been explaining the area of interest.
“This is what you showed me,” Jake said, looking at Carlson. “You told me to look closely so I would remember, but also warned that you were operating from memory as well, so the area you were giving me was not exact. But the best guess at the time was that somewhere within that area is where the bomb had been located.”
“They should have been able to use arial and satellite images to pinpoint it,” Laney objected.
“They might have known better than your information suggested,” Jake agreed. “At the time, you were involved in something of your own. It was only because you were in the area that you stopped in to see me. That and you wanted to break the case that had been stalled for so long. The bombing wasn’t something you were directly involved in, so your knowledge was not complete.”
“I should have urged you to wait while I found out more,” groused Carlson.
“I explained why,” Jake replied. “The idea was new to you at the time, and I don’t think you entirely believed I could do anything. You were having the same kind of doubts you are experiencing right now. I didn’t really believe I would be able to get back far enough.”
Carlson stared at the map. Laney looked at Jake.
“Do you realize how foolish I am going to sound if I take this to the Director and ask for resources to pursue it?” Carlson asked.
“Is that what’s important?” Jake asked. “How foolish you might look? That’s not how I read you in Los Angeles. Can you afford not to investigate it, given what you know from studying the cases where I’ve known other events in advance? Hundreds of thousands of lives are at risk, as well as a loss of one of our cities.”
Carlson made a face. “Take him back downstairs,” she instructed Laney. “I’ve got to see if I can get in to see the Director.”
Chapter 34
Special Agent Jim Laney came for Jake well before the morning meal. Jake had slept well enough on the narrow cot, and had been awake wondering how the day would go when he saw the muscular agent making his way toward the cell. He carried a bag in his left hand.
“Here, put these on,” Laney had said when he arrived at the cell and the jailer had unlocked the door.
Jake looked in the paper bag. It was filled with the clothes he had worn when he had come into FBI headquarters the previous day. He took it as a good sign.
As he stripped out of the prison overalls, Jake asked Laney what was planned.
“We’re going to Atlanta,” Laney replied.
“So she was able to convince the Director I’m telling the truth?”
Laney scoffed. “You can’t believe that. I was present for your little demonstration and I still have doubts. I can’t see how you could pull it off, but I’m certain there is another explanation. What I can’t figure is how you come out ahead in this. You have turned yourself over to us, and have revealed who you are. You also have confessed to additional crimes, which have been verified as real events by the way. What do you hope to gain?”
Jake sat on the cot so he could put on his shoes. “Why is it so hard for you to believe I’m telling the truth?”
“What you claim just isn’t possible,” Laney said with absolute certainty.
“If the Director feels that way, why are we going?”
“You can thank Susan for that. She is out on a limb on this one. While I don’t think she believes in your supposed ability either, you do have a demonstrated record of knowing about planned activities in time to be in place to prevent unacceptable events from taking place. We both are convinced some of those you admit to having killed were up to no good. You even demonstrated you have knowledge about the Federal lockup that we can’t figure out. So, you have some source of intelligence. Maybe the attack is real. Maybe you know about something in the works but don’t want to reveal how you know. Given the potential risk to the population, it has been deemed worth looking into.”
“I’ll take whatever reason you choose to go. Just so long as we are able to stop this.”
“One thing though,” Laney added. “You better not be screwing around with Carlson. She’s one tough lady and has a record of bringing cases to conclusion. Your elusive actions the past few years have been the one case that she has had little luck with. I think that’s why she is so open to seeing where this will go. But if you led her astray, be prepared for a mountain to fall on you.”
“Fair enough warning,” Jake agreed. “But I’m telling you the truth. I think you’ll come to realize that before this is finished. Where do we meet Carlson?”
“She’ll meet us at the plane. There is a Lear standing by to take us to Atlanta.”
“That sounds like a small plane. How many of us are going?”
“Just the three of us from here. We’ll coordinate activities with the regional office in Atlanta. They will provide additional agents who are familiar with the city. We will also meet with the police department and enlist their assistance as well.”
Jake stood, his shoes tied. He left the bag and the coveralls where he had dropped them. He noted that his wallet, keys, and cell phone were not among the items returned to him. No matter, they were on the way. He had a momentary thought that he should have made a trip into Atlanta before coming to Washington to provide himself a jump to point, but that opportunity was past. He’d have to hope things went as he hoped. Once they left Washington, he would be somewhat restricted in his back-tracking opportunities.
Laney pointed the way and Jake headed off with Laney close behind. They worked their way back to the bank of elevators that had brought him here the first time, returned up to the lobby where they headed out the front door where a car and driver were waiting. Jake climbed into the back seat and Laney slid in next to him.
“Don’t think about trying anything cute,” Laney warned him.
Jake smiled. “I came to you, remember. I want to go to Atlanta. I would have nothing to gain by trying to escape. If I wanted to get away, the method I would chose you wouldn’t be able to protect against.”
Laney looked at him intently for a moment, then settled back. The driver pulled away and they headed to Reagan Airport across the city.
The flight had taken just over an hour, just long enough for them to settle in and eat the small breakfast that had been arranged for them on the plane. Ca
rlson had been waiting when they arrived. Today she was wearing the gray version of her FBI suit. She looked tired, and Jake suspected she had spent a good deal of the night making preparations and convincing her superiors this trip made sense.
The landing in Atlanta was bumpy. Jake could see why by looking out the windows. He hadn’t known about the storm. Heavy rains were pounding Atlanta this morning. That wasn’t going to make their task any easier. He wondered why Carlson hadn’t told him about the weather, but she might not have known about the storm. Before, when she had lived through this particular date, Atlanta hadn’t been on her personal radar.
When the plane came to a stop at a small private terminal they disembarked and climbed directly into a large black SUV that was waiting for them. Laney climbed into the backseat next to Jake and Carlson climbed into the front seat next to the driver. Even though the vehicle was parked at the base of the stairs, they all were more than a little wet by the time they were safely in the vehicle. The driver introduced himself as Special Agent Harold Evans. He would take them to the FBI office and would be part of the team assigned to Carlson, who was to be the Special Agent in Charge of the case.
“How long is the storm supposed to last?” Laney asked as they started off.
“At least through tonight. More than likely into tomorrow as well. This is going to make matters much more difficult.”
The FBI office was in the northeast corner of Atlanta, outside the Highway 285 ring. It took them a while to get there as traffic was a mess as a result of the storm. Jake took the opportunity to have a look at the city through the rain. He had never been to Atlanta before, but a combination of the rain and the way it was spread out he was unable to get any real sense of the place other than it was flat.
“What about the police?” Carlson asked once they were on the way and Evans had settled into a slow crawl with the other cars.
“Representatives will be at the meeting as you have requested. They don’t have any idea what this is about, but have agreed to provide manpower. Realistically, it will be the next shift change this afternoon before they can brief their people, and with this weather, I don’t know how effective they will be.”
Carlson nodded and Jake could see it was no different than she had expected.
“Has there been any word on the vans yet?”
The vans were a pair of specially equipped units that would be flown into Atlanta from wherever they were normally stored. Laney had told Jake the vans were designed to be able to drive past buildings and monitor for radiation being leaked. They should be able to detect any but the most carefully shielded nuclear materials, and if this was meant to be a dirty bomb with lots of already hot waste nuclear material packed around the main core, then picking up a signature of the devices was expected to be straightforward. Jake wasn’t so sure. He had asked about how effective they had been in the past. Laney had admitted that they had never picked up covert materials being shipped into the country. In tests that had been performed, the rate of success in uncovering a suspect shipment had been between 15 and 85 percent, depending on who was running the test, and perhaps simple chance. That didn’t seem like a very good ratio to Jake.
“They should come in sometime tomorrow,” Evans replied.
Jake did quick calculation. Tomorrow was five days before the bomb would be triggered. That didn’t seem like very much time.
Then they arrived at the FBI facility. It was a very large glass building. Jake was surprised that such a large facility was required for Atlanta, but Laney had explained that it was one of fifty-six regional offices and was responsible for more than just Atlanta. At least they should have adequate resources.
Once inside, they were escorted to a large conference room on the third floor. Evans had called ahead as they approached the facility, so by the time they entered the room, more than a dozen people were already present. Jake was reassured by the efficiency of the group, and his hopes for their success improved.
Laney pointed to a couple of chairs off to the side and Jake sat where indicated. Carlson stepped up to the front of the room without hesitation and tapped the microphone to be sure it was active. Harold Evans had closed the door, a signal that everyone who was coming was present. Carlson didn’t hesitate, and in a simple direct presentation outlined the potential threat they were concerned about. She didn’t explain the source of the information, only that it was considered reliable and they needed to act quickly.
The people here were professionals, FBI and police as well. They might be curious about the background, but realized the immediate concern was attempting to locate the bomb. Therefore, questions were focused to that end.
“Do you have any idea where it might be located? Atlanta is a large city.”
An overhead projector was switched on and Carlson placed a transparency on the flat screen. It showed a map of the city with the area Jake had outlined back in Washington D.C. outlined in red pencil.
“Christ,” someone muttered. “That’s still a large area, and not one of the better areas to try and get local cooperation.”
The area shown on the map was nearly two and a half miles long, and perhaps two wide. It extended north and south almost equally from the east-west Ralph David Abernathy Freeway and was mostly to the west of the Freeway 75 & 85 throughway.
“A lot of that area is old and rundown. Some ghettos, some abandoned areas, and some that have seen recent restoration. In additional there is an old industrial area that remains mostly closed and run down. A lot of gang activity there. Drugs, prostitution, you name it. The locals won’t be the type to help us out.”
“I assume we can’t tell anyone what we are really looking for?” someone asked.
“Unfortunately, no. That would result in panic. We have to try and keep this low profile,” Carlson replied.
Jake groaned inwardly. He understood, but he knew that would make the job harder.
Questions and answers lasted another fifteen minutes. Then it was time to break. In addition to Evans, two additional agents had been assigned to the task. Jake was introduced to Special Agents Norman and Simpson. They would be coordinating efforts with the police, who would have their patrol officers keeping an eye out and would assign a number of detectives familiar with the area to start working their snitches and other resources familiar with the zone that had been identified. Evans would remain with them and they would perform their own search of the area. Carlson and Laney would also direct the teams in the vans once they arrived the following day.
Jake felt the effort seemed too small, but couldn’t visualize how many police would be involved, although their search would be hampered by not knowing what this was about.
The four of them returned to the SUV and Evans took them on a tour of the area Carlson had outlined on the map. Making the drive Jake realized how big the task was. A couple of miles didn’t sound like much, but the two plus miles from end to end was compounded by a great many parallel streets that ran that direction. While some of the structure looked in decent shape and the police could reasonably expect to find someone at each residence, many were ramshackled and probably deserted. Those would be harder. Other areas, clearly old industrial sites, were closed up and offered large buildings with multiple places to hide a weapon.
Each of the police would be given a special card to carry with them. At the end of their patrol those would be collected and checked. If anyone had been close to a radiation source it would show, and give them an area to check more closely. The patrolmen weren’t told what the cards were for, but Jake wondered how many would guess.
As they drove through the waterlogged streets, Jake wondered how they would tackle the task. This wasn’t something he knew anything about. He hoped that Carlson had a plan. It looked almost hopeless to him.
After several hours, Evan drove them to the safe house they would be using for the duration of the stay. Jake decided the house served several purposes. It gave them a comfortable base where they could opera
te around the clock if needed, and also provided an easy way for the agents to keep an eye on Jake. They still weren’t comfortable with him, and while he had been treated almost as one of them, his room was the one that was locked from the outside. Evans also stayed there, giving them an additional hand in watching him.
When they had the command post set up, Carlson explained they would coordinate the activities of the vans once they arrived, and would help in checking the abandoned factory sites. The police, who knew the city better, would work the more populated areas.
Chapter 35
The next morning they began the arduous task of examining all of the closed and deserted industrial facilities within the zone of interest. Those facilities that were still active were given over to the local police to investigate. Active facilities were considered low priority as it was unlikely that someone would try and hide a large explosive device in such a place, but they had to be checked. Jake had never been involved in anything like this, and was appalled at the sheer immensity of the task. The weather didn’t help either. The rain, which had tapered off somewhat, was still coming down with periodic bursts of increased intensity. The ground was wet with large puddles, and the skies were leaden and dark. Anyone with any sense was inside away from the weather. Wearing rain slickers, the small group of four, Jake plus the three FBI agents, departed the first unproductive site and headed towards the next on their list.
“This one’s locked up tight,” Laney said as they approached the rusted gate that led toward the dilapidated building that had once been an active factory. That had been a long time ago. Now the crumbling red brick building that could be seen on the far side of the chain link fence was a sad sight indeed. It had clearly been deserted for a very long time, and the years of neglect had not been kind to it.
“Let me try,” Evans said stepping forward.
They had no time to try and chase down the owners of each of the facilities in order to get permission to enter or to find someone with keys. Shortcuts were necessary in the name of expediency. To that end Evans had an electronic lock pick which he could use to try and open any locks that barred their way. In this case, the device was of little use. The lock was so badly rusted that the mechanism wouldn’t respond to the device that tried to align the pins.