Operation: Healing Angel

by Margaret Kay

  “What about the car I gave them?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the damn thing exploded if they were to get in it. In the least, they’ll be tailed the second they pull away from the curb.”

  “Where are they?” Manning asked.

  “In a bar across from Gloves. Whittier has a meet scheduled with his boss, don’t know when or where, may need your men to recon it.”

  “You don’t think your team can handle it?”

  Shepherd blew a breath out. “I might be able to pull a couple of my men from the base. Garcia’s burned. I can send him in to take them down, but I can’t risk him on active surveillance. We’ll be able to track Whittier’s phone to where the meet location is. But I would feel better with onsite recon to know how many Tangos, their locations, and the firepower.”

  “If he takes his phone with him.”

  “He will. This guy isn’t too bright,” Shepherd said.

  “I’ve dispatched a team to pick your guys up. Tell Garcia to be nice to them, will you?”

  Shepherd laughed. “Tell me when they’re onsite and I’ll relay to Garcia.”

  After he disconnected the call, he dialed Ops.

  “We’re still listening in on the bug in Whittier’s office and his cell phone activity. This guy is jumpy,” Madison reported. “He called some woman named Matilda asking about Rae Ella, wants her condition. Her phone pinged near the hospital. The agents watching over her have been notified.”

  “Thanks, Madison, stay on it. See what you can do to get me a video conference with Delta Team in Norfolk. I know it’s final load day so they may be hard to get on a call.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she guaranteed.

  An hour later, Garcia and Wilson were picked up by one of Manning’s local teams. Shepherd and Cooper settled in at his conference table and initiated a video conference with four of the six team members at the base in Norfolk.

  “Sorry, Big Bear, Undertaker and the Birdman couldn’t get away. They’re both taking part in their ship’s final store-load.”

  “I had something pretty funky happen earlier today to report,” Michael Cooper said. “One of the guys in my department during our load-in approached me and stopped short of accusing me of being an imbedded NCIS Agent.”

  “Sounds like he has some inside info that there are agents amongst the crew,” Cooper said. “How did you respond?”

  “I told him he was fucking whacked. Then I spouted off settings and other control criteria for the power plant. I finished up by asking him how many agents he knew had served for ten years on a damned sub and warned him about crossing me. I played the insulted badass,” he said.

  Shepherd’s lips tipped into a grin, but he noticed Cooper looked concerned. “Good approach.”

  “Just watch your six with this guy,” Cooper said.

  “I’m hoping we’ll be pulled before we sail. If this guy is in on anything, I don’t want to end up as bait over the railing, something I might add I never had to worry about on a submarine.”

  Shepherd’s lips curled into a grin. Then he brought them up to date on the developments from Garcia and Wilson’s angle. “Lambchop, I need you and at least one more of your team to standby and be ready to move to back up Garcia and Wilson when this meet takes place, preferably waiting someplace right off base.”

  “There is a bar just down the road from the main gate. A lot of the guys go there. If you can get a few of us Liberty, we can wait there. My watch-group is supposed to be on duty tonight,” Lambchop said.

  “I’ll call SecNav and get you that Liberty,” Shepherd guaranteed.

  The next time Shepherd checked the time, it was late afternoon and Doc stood in his office, asking about assisting with his mid-day exercise session. It was the third time Doc poked his head in and asked. Diana would be home late, so what was to be his third exercise session wouldn’t be until right before bed. Technically, it could be construed as mid-day.

  “Diana will have both our heads if you don’t take some time to do her exercises. Shepherd, this is the first full day of her new treatment plan. Do you want to get out of that damned chair, or not?”

  Shepherd sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He stood at his desk in the lift, hadn’t sat on the wobble board at all as she had instructed. “This has been a very busy day,” he said.

  “Do you have a half hour now?” Doc demanded. “Cooper will notify you if anything goes down in Norfolk.”

  Shepherd raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Okay, let’s go up and do it now.”

  They got to it right away and Shepherd was again humbled at how fast the exercises fatigued his muscles and how difficult he found them. He truly hoped that in a week or so, he would breeze right through them and beg Diana for something more challenging.

  “Thank you for verbally removing my head from my ass to get me up here to do these,” Shepherd said.

  Doc let out a hearty laugh. “Lassiter would have been the one asking you next if you’d turned me down again. And I wouldn’t have lied to Diana about why you didn’t complete them either.”

  Shepherd chuckled. “She already has you on her side.”

  “We’re both on your side, Shep. And for the record, I like the lady. She’s good for you.”

  Shepherd’s lips pulled into a smile. “I agree with that. She is good for me.” He began the dead bug exercise. After struggling to complete her prescribed number of reps, he breathed out heavily and collapsed onto the floor. “Even if she is trying to kill me with this one.”

  Doc laughed. “The dead bug is going to kill you. Think about that statement for a second. Buck up buttercup. No pain, no gain. Crush this like you have everything else in your life and stop whining.”

  Shepherd laughed as well. “Motivational speaking is not your strong point, Doc, but I get it. I am the luckiest son of a bitch and I know it.”

  “Not only are you getting a medical miracle, you’ve got one hell of a woman in your bed. I knew something was up Sunday morning when I got here.”

  Shepherd was still laughing. “You know what occurred to me? I’m the only one of the team who didn’t break protocol with my relationship. I almost feel left out, not one of the gang.”

  Doc still laughed as well. “Talk with Lassiter about that.” Then he did take on more of a thoughtful tone. “Seriously though, Joe will be scheduling some time with you. Though a great development, this medical miracle, or rather the realization that you had been misdiagnosed for so long, has him concerned about your mental state. I am sorry I didn’t have the knowledge to know that you were not really paralyzed all these years. I do feel partly responsible that you did not get several other opinions to confirm it.”

  “Damn, Doc. There is no apology needed, no reason for you to be sorry about anything. The doctors were sure of the diagnosis. And I wouldn’t expect you or anyone else to question it or have any other knowledge to know I wasn’t really paralyzed. Diana, with her wide range of knowledge, was probably the only person who could have figured it out. Vic took great care of me for years, but I am most thankful that he referred me to Diana.” He did feel a wave of emotions hit him with verbalizing this, that he hadn’t expected. And he felt bad that Doc felt sorry for not knowing. Doc had helped to take care of him. And Doc had encouraged him over the years to be as healthy as he could be, to strengthen the parts of his body that he could, and to accept his situation.

  Doc extended a hand to Shepherd. “Here, let me give you a hand to get off the floor. Soon, you’ll be back to full strength. But only if you do your exercises three times a day. No more putting this off, no matter what.”

  “Yes, sir,” Shepherd replied jokingly.

  Just then, his phone chimed a message from Cooper. Jeff Whittier was on the move. The team was engaging. Shepherd invited Doc to join him in Ops to observe.

  They entered the room. Cooper, Madison, Yvette, and Brielle were there. The room felt crowded.

  “Lambchop and Mother wer
e waiting at the bar off base. When we got word that Whittier was on the move, we were able to pull the Undertaker and the Birdman to provide backup. Razor and Taco are hanging back from active surveillance but will move in and participate in the takedown if there is going to be one,” Cooper recapped.

  Shepherd’s eyes went to Brielle. “Your article for the DEA on this will need to conceal the involvement of, and information relating to the base. Write it from a civilian distribution angle only.”

  Brielle nodded. “I thought maybe that would be the case.”

  “But our actual in-house report information will need to include it,” Cooper reminded her.

  Brielle nodded. She had her laptop open, ready to type her notes that would generate the article and the mission report.

  Shepherd knew that Cooper was extremely grateful that so much of the writing of the mission reports were now off his plate. Brielle had proven herself more capable than he would have predicted when he brought her onboard. Her ability to gather information and help the digital team was valuable. Helping with the many reports she had taken over was nothing short of amazing. And the news releases she wrote under an assumed name for the DEA was a huge public relations success for them.

  “Closing in on the warehouse the target is at now,” Lambchop’s voice broadcast.

  “We have no video yet,” Yvette said.

  “I just got off a call with the base. They are launching a drone with video and thermal imaging capabilities,” Madison said.

  Cooper shrugged when his eyes met Shepherd’s. “I took the liberty to get the support for our team.”

  Shepherd grinned. “Doc told you not to disturb me while I worked out, didn’t he?”

  Doc chuckled. “Guilty as charged.”

  Shepherd’s gaze went back to Cooper. “Good call.”

  Cooper chuckled. “On calling for a drone or not disturbing you?”

  “Both,” Shepherd replied.

  “Mother and I are in position outside of the warehouse. There are four vehicles here. Taking pictures of their plates now,” Lambchop transmitted. “We’ll enter after the rest of Delta arrives.”

  “Taco and I are onsite, hanging back,” Garcia added. “Call us in when needed.”

  “Affirmative, Razor,” Lambchop replied.

  “There is a fifth vehicle pulling in now,” Taco reported.

  There was a pause. “Got a sailor exiting the vehicle,” Mother reported. “Male, mid-twenties, enlisted, Caucasian. Taking pictures.”

  Shepherd heard keys clicking and his eyes were drawn to Madison at one of the computers. “I just got the photos in from Lambchop. I’m running the plates.”

  “Okay, the rest of Delta just arrived on scene,” Lambchop said.

  “Hold for the ID of the vehicle owners, Delta,” Shepherd ordered. “Xena, transmit photos and bios when you have them to the team as well as give us a verbal.”

  “Here’s the rundown,” Madison said a few minutes later. “Sending the file to each of you now.” The file she sent appeared on the main screen in Ops. “The Ford Escape belongs to our primary target, Jeff Whittier. Vehicle number two, the BMW, is registered to Rupert Mangio. His rap sheet is too long to list, but the highlights include possession of stolen weapons and large amounts of drugs with intent to sell and distribute. Vehicle number three, the Caddie, belongs to Charles J. Peppers, an attorney specializing in criminal defense. Vehicle number four, the Jeep Cherokee, belongs to Vergio Sandelucci, and yes, I swear that is his real name. He’s got a license and one credit card, but I’ve got nothing else on him. Brielle, can you do a quick dive into him? Nothing else is coming up on him.”

  “Sure,” Brielle replied. Her fingers began to fly over her keyboard.

  “And contestant number five is Petty Officer, Second Class, Joseph Harris, Pharmacy Technician, stationed at Norfolk for the past five years,” Yvette added.

  “Ding, ding, ding, there is our link to getting the drugs onto the base and probably onto the ships without arousing suspicion,” Shepherd said.

  “The drone just arrived,” Madison said. “Putting the feed on the main monitor.”

  “Be advised there are six heat signatures in the main, open room in the warehouse,” Cooper broadcast.

  “Okay, Delta, move in and see if you can get us some pictures or audio of something illegal taking place. Razor and Taco secure the outside of the building. If anyone else pulls up, detain them.”

  The men acknowledged him. The feed from the drone showed the four members of Delta Team converging on the warehouse through the door closest to the parking lot. They made their way through the front part of the building, which was cubed off office space. Then they penetrated the warehouse, concealing themselves among the crates and large stacks of boxes on shelves. They moved soundlessly.

  Shepherd’s adrenalin was pumping through his veins. Even if they didn’t catch them doing anything illegal, at least they now knew who the players were, and they could go from there. He kept his eyes glued to the drone feed.

  “Got the video from the team coming up now,” Yvette announced. “Putting it up on main view.”

  Shepherd watched the feed change. The team used a snake flexible-neck camera to covertly spy on what was taking place in the warehouse. It was discreetly poking through a gap between two boxes. Yvette tapped a few keys and zoomed the image in. They watched.

  “Fuckin’ A, yes,” Cooper said. “Got them, right there, boxes of pills being passed off to the petty officer.”

  “And envelopes of cash documented,” Yvette added. “They’re handing them out like candy on Halloween.”

  Delta Team had a screen that allowed them to also view what was transpiring, but they were so close to the targets, they could not speak even in whispers. They’d be discovered.

  “Move in and take them down,” Shepherd ordered. “Razor and Taco move in to assist. We’ll watch the outside vicinity to make sure no one else arrives on scene.”

  “And make sure you do it by the numbers, so it holds up in court,” Cooper added. “Getting your warrant now.” He had his phone out and was text messaging Manning. “I’m notifying Manning so he can get that warrant and move a team in to take control of the scene.”

  Shepherd nodded his appreciation. “We’ll have the regular DEA move in after you have secured the scene.” This was the easiest way for them to control the situation, not invite the DEA to the party until it was over.

  Shepherd watched the heat signatures and the video feed on the outside of the warehouse, that he knew were Garcia and Wilson, move in. Delta Team left the snake camera in place to record the takedown. Shepherd’s eyes bounced between the two feeds.

  “Just outside the warehouse door to assist. Will move in as needed,” Garcia broadcast.

  “Federal agents with a warrant! Get your hands in the air!” Lambchop yelled as the four-man team moved in, formed in a semi-circle around the six Tangos.

  Three of the Tangos reached for guns. Gunfire sounded. Through the camera, Shepherd watched two of the Tangos drop to the floor. The third dropped his weapon.

  “I said, hands in the air!” Lambchop repeated.

  The four men’s hands raised.

  “Now on the ground, hands out in front of you!” Lambchop ordered. “You, three-piece suit. Get down!”

  Shepherd recognized the attorney. He was the only one not to drop when ordered.

  Lambchop stood back to provide cover while the others moved in. The Undertaker went to one of the wounded men. He kicked his weapon, an AR-15, away from him. He searched him and secured his hands in zip ties before checking his wounds. He was not one of the men identified by Ops from the license plates.

  “GSW to the right shoulder. He’ll live.” He pulled his wallet from his pants. “Got a Military ID. Petty Officer Shane Brenner.”

  Sherman had gone to the second wounded man. He too kicked his weapon, a handgun away from him and searched his body for more weapons. Then he assessed his medical state. He pull
ed his wallet from his pants pocket. “Got Vergio Sandalucci, two GSWs to the chest. He’s gone.”

  Garcia kicked Jeff Whittier’s gun away from him. He was the third man who’d drawn a weapon. He searched him for other weapons and then secured his hands in zip ties behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent, scumbag asshole. You have the right to an attorney, though I wouldn’t suggest Mr. Peppers over there as he will be busy with his own defense. If you cannot afford an attorney, some overburdened public DA will be assigned. You should have taken my earlier offer, asshole.”