His coveralls were too clean, but what really caught Leo's attention was that he was wearing sneakers. What employer would tolerate one of their workers possibly getting their toes smashed by a heavy piece of equipment?
Then again, who would look at a service person's feet to figure out if they were legitimate?
So, this guy was someone he needed to keep an eye on. Was he from the FBI or one of the other alphabet federal agencies? It was the only reason that Leo didn't shoot him where he stood. He was already on shaky ground with the feds and didn't want to blast one of their agents if he could help it. Not that he would have any problem in dropping the hammer on one of them if they got in the way, but why call unwarranted attention to yourself by blasting them as they stood on a sidewalk?
###
Leo saw that there was someone behind his truck, messing with it. He watched. The man tried to fiddle with the lock on the topper. He would be there a while as he had put in a new, stronger lock when he'd bought the vehicle. Not to say that you can't get into anything, but it wasn't a lock that you could pick with a paperclip and a small screwdriver.
The man pulled a small box from a duffel and started working on it. What the fuck was he doing?
###
Jackie rode the bus as far as she could take it and walked the rest of the way. The breeze washed through her hair and made her feel almost refreshed. She didn't know what she would do once she got back to the hotel room. Would Leo be there?
###
Jeff Silver gathered up all the resources he could put his hands on, calling in all favors. It didn't take much to fire up the HRT to help as they would run over their grandmothers in an APC to get revenge for their losses. The difficult thing would be holding them back. They would be very likely to stomp the shit out of anything that got in their way.
With more time, he could have been subtle, but the quickness he needed had forced him into using the only tool in his box, a hammer.
He'd briefed the teams, and they were getting ready to load up when his cell phone rang. Another number he didn't recognize.
“FBI Special Agent Jeff Silver.”
“Leo Marston here, you get my earlier message?”
He had to lean down to hear as the engines of the vehicles started.
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Hanging around. You going to follow up?”
“I can't say.”
“You better. I have one of the people responsible for the recent carnage tied up in my room. You'll enjoy talking to her. But don't accept any food or drink from her as she kills using poison.”
“How are you so sure ...”
“It's the business I used to be in. I know.”
“Are you sending me into a trap?”
“Nope. As soon as I take care of a couple of things, I'll be happy to talk. But there’s something you could do for me in the meantime.”
“I'm almost afraid to ask.”
“There’s a guy at the back of my truck which is parked in the lot across from my hotel room. I think he's a car bomber. You mind getting there before he blows my truck up?”
“I'll see what I can do.”
“Be careful.”
“Why?”
“Because I won't be there to push your ass out of the way of a bullet.”
“Is that something that I should be concerned about?”
Leo laughed. Then he cut the connection.
Double dipped shit.
He jumped into the command vehicle. They had a lot of traffic to get through to get to the hotel and not a lot of time. Keying up the radio, he knew he'd have to brief the team en-route on the change in the situation.
There was the sinking feeling that he was being used as some sort of bait. But the only way to find out was to put his ass on the line and wiggle a bit. He hoped that he survived the experience.
Chapter 29
Leo settled in again behind his spotting scope. He watched with amusement as the heating and cooling guy struggled to pull a box up through a roof access cover. He should have made it more collapsible. Or at least improvised a bit more. Roof mounted air conditioners and heating units tended to be very large in order to spread their weight out over a larger surface area. So they were full of lots of empty space that could be used as a sniper hide.
Shut off the power at the unit, take a screwdriver and go to town. While he'd never had to shoot from such a hide, he had been trained in the concept.
Such a hide was for reasonably short term placement, as sitting in a big metal box for days on end, in the sun, would cook your brains in your skull. Then there was the possibility of having to deal with the repairman sent to fix the apparently broken unit.
He'd liked twisting the tail of the FBI Agent. It might keep the guy alive long enough for Leo to use him as proper bait.
Leo wished that he had a sound suppressor for his rifle. He could shoot the sniper when he got set up and then take a leisurely shot at the guy placing a car bomb in his truck.
But that wasn't the case, so he would have to make his shot count and hope the FBI made it in time to prevent his truck from being blown up.
He scanned the street again with his spotting scope. There was a familiar figure coming towards the hotel room. He twisted the zoom on his spotting scope and struggled to make out the features. Was that Jackie walking up the street?
###
Jackie was lost in her thoughts. How could she track down the software causing all this mayhem? There had to be some way to do it.
As a hacker, she knew that what one person had created, another, smarter hacker could undo. She hoped that she was that person.
She came to the street where their hotel was. Leo's truck was parked across the street. Did that mean that he was at the hotel? For the fortieth time today, she wished that he had a cell phone. Even though the man was smart and attractive in a rough way, that was off putting. So unlike Nathan in many ways. Thinking of Nathan caused a momentary pain in her chest. She shrugged it off and continued.
Behind Leo's truck was a figure. Was it Leo? There was only one way to find out. She carefully dodged traffic and made her way across the street.
###
Leo saw that the sniper had placed himself on top of the roof, in his hide. From below, it looked like another air conditioner or heater unit, but Leo could see right into it, where the sniper had pulled out a rifle, spotting scope and laser range finder and was carefully surveying the area. He scooted back, further out of the balcony. Not that he could be spotted from his angle, but it still paid to be careful.
Consulting his diagram, he figured the range and angle. The problem was when you shoot on an incline or decline the force and effect of gravity is less on the bullet, but the sight plane above the bore of the barrel remains the same. Because of this, the bullet will have a flatter trajectory and strike the target higher than what the intended point of aim was. So, to strike the target, the corrected straight line distance to the target, or sloped distance, must be corrected for gravity and the distance to the target.
He pulled the rifle off the case and took aim at the sniper. When he had the target in his cross hairs, took a look at the Angle Cosine Indicator (ACI) fastened to his rifle below the scope rail. Noting the cosine angle, he wrote that down and then lased the target for a more exact range.
Sliding back, he took out his calculator and multiplied the cosine number and the distance which gave him the exact straight line distance to the target. Looking at his rifle data card which was taped to the stock of his rifle, he changed his scope settings to match the new distance.
Then he took the temperature, humidity and barometric pressure. The wind looked to be about five miles an hour based on a flag flying by the hotel, heading into him. From there, he calculated the other changes he would need to his scope settings and checked his math. Right on. He adjusted his scope for the new settings.
It wasn't as accurate as some of the fancy ballistic computers the military was n
ow using, but Leo had almost a dozen years of very long distance shooting. The numbers looked and felt right, which was much more important than what a computer could come up with.
Settling in behind his rifle, the coolness of the stock was reassuringly comfortable. Leo tried to push the thoughts of Jackie coming down the street and the danger from the car bomber out of his mind, but struggled to do it.
He couldn't settle his thoughts at all and the scope danced on the target. Shit.
Fuck it, he thought. He shifted off the rifle and pointed his spotting scope at his truck. Moving the magnification out, he saw that Jackie was approaching the truck. Double shit.
There was no way to get a shot at the car bomber without taking out Jackie. He didn't have the time to properly dope his rifle for the change in the angle and range. It was a shot that a movie sniper could do without thinking, but Leo was a realist and knew he couldn't make both shots.
Now what?
###
Jackie came around the back of the truck. There was a package sitting on the ground behind the vehicle and someone working on the topper door.
“Leo?” It didn't look like him from behind, but it could have been.
“Nope.” He was shorter and stouter than Leo, and was wearing a Tyvek suit complete with rubber gloves. What the hell?
“I'm a friend of his, just dropping something off for him.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. He just wanted me to put this package in his truck for him.”
Then she saw the screwdriver. He had been trying to pry the door open with it. She had seen the locks on Leo's truck, much better than what had come with the vehicle, very difficult to pick. She could have picked them, but it wouldn't have been easy.
“I don't think so,” she said, stepping back.
The man pulled the screwdriver free and started moving towards her.
###
It was now time for Leo to fish or cut bait. The sniper had set up and was leaning over his rifle. While he couldn't directly see what the man was doing, he knew—cheek pressed against the rifle stock in a lover's embrace, all senses focused on the target, just waiting for the right opportunity.
Leo settled in behind his rifle, shifting so that it was set at his natural point of aim. Should he shoot and kill the sniper? Or take out the rifle? He wasn't an assassin anymore, and couldn't see damaging either.
Shooting to wound wasn't an option as even a tricky shot into an extremity with the caliber and power of his rifle would merely prolong death.
He made his decision. Shifted his aim. With a lover's gentle touch, he caressed the trigger.
###
Jackie didn't know how it happened, but in an instant, her gun was in her hand, pointing at the stranger's head.
He stopped. Lowered the screwdriver.
She continued to move back, and settled the front sight on his groin. It would allow her to see any movement that he made, and if she had to shoot, the groin was a good place to get started, and she could use the recoil to walk the rounds up into his chest and head. It was probably more than a bit disconcerting, having a pretty girl pointing a big ass gun at your family jewels.
“Drop it.”
The man smiled. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Last warning and then you can learn to sing Castrato.”
“What?”
Didn't anybody ever read anymore? “I'm going to blow your balls off and keep shooting until you are beyond dead.”
The man dropped the screwdriver.
There was a loud 'BANG.' Then what sounded like a freight train flew over their heads with a ripping sound ending with a heart-wrenching crack.
Someone started screaming.
###
His task complete, for the moment, Leo started packing up his gear. He hated having to put his rifle back in the case with the barrel still being warm as it would draw humidity as it cooled. But he needed to get the hell out of here.
A good sniper never fired more than two rounds from a particular location. To shoot more would invite counter-sniper fire, or in the modern military, an artillery or air strike.
While he felt that the FBI wasn't forward enough to employ something like the Boomerang Anti-Sniper System, which used microphones and sophisticated software to locate a sniper, it still paid to follow sniper doctrine and beat feet after taking a shot.
Before he packed his spotting scope away, he looked down at where his truck was parked. Jackie was pointing a handgun at someone. Good job. But she was on her own until either the feds showed up or he was able to get there.
After he was all packed up, he took another look around. No trace of his presence existed in the room. Before he left, he made a call.
He tossed his duffel over his shoulder and picked up his rifle case. Closing the door, he found himself smiling.
###
Despite the sound of what she figured was a gunshot, Jackie kept her cool and didn't pull the trigger.
He twitched, like he was going to try something.
“Hear that sound? It was my partner. The next shot is for you. If I don't get you first.”
There was the sound of screeching tires, vehicle doors opening and running.
Three men dressed completely in tactical black with 'FBI' across their chest in big white letters came from the street.
All of them pointed guns, short barreled rifles, at her. One shouted, “Don't move. FBI.”
She followed their instructions and soon found herself disarmed, and being handcuffed and dragged away along with the guy who had been fooling with Leo's truck.
Two men in heavily armored bomb suits approached the package.
“What's in that?”
She didn't get an answer and was led out into the street.
There was a man in a suit and body armor, wearing an FBI windbreaker, standing by a black van that had apparently brought the other FBI agents. The man had dark circles under his eyes and gray stubble showing on his unshaven face. His shirt was wrinkled and it looked like he had slept in it. He looked exhausted as he sucked on a cup of coffee.
“You Jackie Winn?”
She nodded.
“Where's Leo?”
“I haven't seen him in a couple of days. But I think I heard him working.”
A tired smile showed briefly on his face.
“I'm FBI Agent Jeff Silver. It's been a tough week or so.”
“I can imagine. Am I under arrest?”
“Not for now. But we do need to talk.”
“Will I need a lawyer?”
He shrugged. “It's entirely up to you. But I'm not currently looking at charging you with anything as long as you cooperate.”
She turned around so her back was towards him. “How about we lose the handcuffs then?”
He took the cuffs off.
“What was in the package that the bomb guys are so interested in?”
“A bomb.” He paused and listened to something that came over his earpiece radio. “A big one. Enough to take out a tank. Leo pissed someone off.”
She smiled. Leo could do that without too much trouble.
“How about we move out of the way of the bomb techs?”
He led her out past where fire trucks, police cars and more trucks full of tactically dressed FBI agents were all waiting. A helicopter hovered overhead, its rotor blades making chopping sounds.
Looking back, she saw a woman being taken out of her hotel room in handcuffs, already dressed in an orange jumpsuit by several men wearing Class A protective suits complete with respirators. Others followed, carrying brown paper bags sealed with red evidence tags.
“What’s that all about?”
Silver shrugged. “Another mess that Leo left for us—she was one of the people spreading chaos throughout the city.”
He turned to her and said, “What can you tell us about what has been going on around here recently?”
She leaned back against a squad
car. The exhaust fumes from all the idling vehicles were almost enough to make her gag. “It’s a long story. How about we sit down someplace and talk about it?”
Chapter 30
Leo didn’t want to get involved with the mess in front of the hotel. Nor did he want to go over and introduce himself to the FBI. He’d been released once before by some unknown benefactor but wouldn’t count on that happening again.
The way he saw it, he hadn’t committed any crime worth mentioning and had only tried his best to help. Hell, he’d handed them three of the five assassins running around Denver. The other two were probably out of the country by now.
His truck was in the middle of a big crime scene, and it was probably best that he simply disappeared for a bit. But where to go?
Finally, it came to him. He flagged down a taxi and had the driver take him to within two blocks of Jackie’s home address. Being blessed with an almost eidetic memory helped him remember where she lived from the targeting package he had read what seemed like a lifetime ago.
After the taxi drove around the block, Leo trudged to the apartment building. Jackie lived on the fifth floor. The elevator didn’t work and the stairwell stank of old urine and fresh despair. His shoes crunched on discarded crack vials. What a fucking dump.
The locks on Jackie’s door were top of the line and he knew that there wasn’t any way he could, with his limited skills and tools, get past them.
He set his stuff down in front of her door and moved down the hallway a bit to the apartment next to hers.
Leo tapped on the door and it was answered by short Hispanic woman.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jackie’s brother, here in town for a bit. She was supposed to meet me here, and I’m a bit early. I don’t suppose you have a key so I could just let myself in?”
The woman eyed him suspiciously past the chain still fastened on the door. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“I don’t know if you heard that her boyfriend died recently. I was out of the country on business, but when I heard, I came out to help her.”
Kill Code Page 23