Operation Mockingbird
Page 17
Matt stripped off his clothes as he headed for the shower. He turned the dial hard to the left, flinching when the water practically scalded his body. Facing the shower head with both palms pressed against the wall, he leaned in to the torrent coming from the shower head. His head fell down and the hot water cascaded over Matt, drenching his bowed head and plastering his hair to his face. Finally, he tilted his head up and felt the hot water sting his face before pouring down his body. His face burned from the assault. With his eyes squeezed shut, he struggled to shut out the images of Dan, Patrick, Stephen and even Aamir that were swimming before him.
He lifted his head weakly when he heard the bathroom door open. He hadn’t heard anyone enter the motel room. He turned just in time to see Alex walk into the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around her. Without a word, she dropped the towel and slipped into the shower behind him. The sight of her naked body was all too fleeting.
“Alex,” he began.
“Shhhh,” she interrupted as she stepped in close behind him.
With a slight pressure on his right shoulder she gently turned him back to face the wall. She reached past him and adjusted the temperature to something more bearable. As she did, he felt her breasts brush lightly against his back.
“I’ve got your back,” she said softly from behind as she reached for the soap sitting on the shelf affixed to the wall in front of Matt. Again, her breasts made an agonizingly brief contact with his back.
He held his breath as he waited for her next move. He didn’t have to wait long. Her soapy hands were gentle on his back. She expertly massaged his back and shoulders before moving lower. With her palms resting on either side of his waist, she pressed her thumbs deeply into the small of his back.
She hesitated briefly before her hands moved around his hips and to his stomach. Matt shuddered. Still without saying a word, Alex stepped forward and pressed her body against his. One hand slid across his abdomen. He could feel Alex’s full breasts against his back as she pressed deeper into him. Her other hand moved lower. A small groan escaped his lips.
Matt slowly turned around and looked at her. Her wet hair ran in shiny dark sheets down her face and covered her shoulders. Water droplets ran down her neck and chest. She opened her eyes. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, tentatively at first and then more deeply.
Desperate to escape the madness of the last few days, he pressed against her. He pushed his tongue deeply into her mouth. He felt her hands against his back. He moved one hand down her body and to her back. With his hand on her lower back he pulled her closer. With his other hand, he cradled her head as he took two steps forward, pushing her back against the wall.
She was returning his kisses hungrily, her hands pressing deeply into his back. She lifted one leg around his hip, welcoming him, begging him to come closer.
Not taking his mouth from hers, Matt reached out and slid the shower door open. He stepped out first and then pulled her with him. She followed him as he guided her to the bed.
Later, Alex and Matt lay in bed watching the shadows cast by the moonlight that peeked through the blinds. The red numbers from the clock shed the only other light in the room. The bed sheets covered their feet and nothing else. Alex’s head rested comfortably on his chest, her body pressed against his side, her right leg stretched languidly across him. With the index finger of her right hand, Alex absently traced circles and figure eights on his chest. His right hand rested on her hip while his other hand gently stroked her arm.
“What are you thinking, Matt?” she asked.
“I was actually thinking about Commissioner Suarez,” he responded.
“What?” She playfully pinched him.
“I assume you wanted the truth,” he replied.
“Okay, what’s the deal with you and this guy?” she asked.
He described Commissioner Suarez, his hard-partying past and the rumors that he had made his money by associating with some very unsavory people. Matt explained that the commissioner’s real estate development projects were fraught with complaints about shoddy workmanship, undocumented day laborers working for below minimum wage and worse. Yet the commissioner’s company was able to obtain with little difficulty all the zoning and building permits and approvals needed to move these projects along.
He described the commissioner’s run for county office and then the seemingly unchecked political power that he had been able to amass, despite his questionable reputation and history. Alex laughed softly when he got to the part about Matt’s public run-in with the commissioner at the charity event.
“And this man has the power to jeopardize your career?”
He explained the commissioner’s sphere of influence within the local Latin American community as well as the national star power of the commissioner’s brother who was a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee and one of the most promising Hispanic leaders in Congress. Both men were Cuban-American Democrats in a state with a significant Hispanic population, a state that had proven itself critical to any national political election. The commissioner’s brother was considered by most to be the Democrats’ only chance at securing Florida in the next Presidential election.
“That’s one of the reasons I’ve been so reluctant to go to the police about what’s going on,” Matt explained. “I am a prime target for Suarez, and he has the local police on his side. Once the commissioner and his brother hear about my involvement, especially with allegations against another high-profile and highly connected corporation that contributes so significantly to our local tax base, the commissioner, his brother and all of the minions at their disposal are going to be coming at me with guns loaded. So I know that I better be damn sure about the facts before I go to the police.”
“But, what then, Matt? Assuming we are able to get some proof and expose the truth, what are you going to do about these brothers From what you tell me, it seems like you’ll always have these guys threatening your career?”
“Well, it would be nice to expose the commissioner for what he really is, but I tried that and it didn’t work out so well for me,” Matt conceded. “So, second option — since I do really like living in sunny South Florida – is to stay under the radar with him and play nice, at least until I have something really concrete.”
“I see,” Alex said as she sat up, pulling the sheet up with her to cover her body.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Well, speaking of making nice …” she said as she let the sheet fall down around her and began to lower herself toward him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MATT AND ALEX DEBATED late into the evening whether they should show up for their appointment at Protegere. The news bulletins had only indicated Matt was a person of interest and wanted for questioning. There was no mention of a warrant out for his arrest or even of Matt being a suspect in the murders. Matt and Alex figured that even if the guards did run his name through some database of convicted felons or wanted criminals it was possible that nothing would come up.
And it was Sunday, Matt reasoned. The compound would probably not be fully staffed, and the guys assigned to the weekend detail probably watched more Dog: The Bounty Hunter reruns than local news. At least that’s what Matt and Alex hoped when they ultimately decided they would just show up at the designated time for their appointment.
They had to travel several more miles through the Everglades to reach the compound in the middle of the swamplands. The facility was strategically located in this remote location in order to allow Protegere to train its employees and law enforcement professionals far from prying eyes. It had long been speculated that the relationships with these government agencies had enabled the company to avoid the otherwise strict regulations associated with operating a large commercial enterprise in the federally protected National Everglades.
From the front of the facility it was difficult to see what lay beyond. They pulled up at a guardhouse made of concrete block squatting solidly at the entranc
e to the compound. A dense fichus hedge at least fifteen feet high spanned one-quarter mile across either side of the guard station. Matt noticed a solid-looking metal gate behind the foliage that seemed to cover the entire perimeter. The metal gate was topped by concertina wire, with Xenon Stadium lights perched above.
Four men were stationed at the entrance. They were dressed uniformly in black T-shirts, green fatigue-style pants and black boots. Their haircuts were short and Matt could make out security earpieces in place. They all wore wraparound sunglasses. Three of the men had goatees; the youngest was clean shaven. They all carried lightweight machine guns. A guard approached the window and instructed Matt where to park. It was clear that Matt would not be permitted to drive the car into the compound.
They parked and walked over to stand in front of the guard station, separated from the man inside by a very thick glass partition with a slot to pass papers back and forth. They had to present two forms of identification, provide their social security numbers and then wait. And wait. Eventually, one of the men standing outside walked over, opened a metal gate and gestured them through the entrance. Once inside, another guard approached them with a large handheld security scanner.
This guard instructed Matt to remove the contents of his pockets and the messenger bag he had strapped across his shoulder. After a slow and thorough search, the guard set aside the cell phone and Swiss Army knife and told Matt he could retrieve them on the way out. He instructed Matt to place his feet wide apart and extend his arms to his sides. He passed the scanner first in front of Matt’s face and neck and then above and below each arm. He scanned Matt’s front beginning with his chest. The scanner beeped when it passed Matt’s belt buckle. The guard paused, briefly inspected the belt buckle and continued down the front of Matt’s body. He then scanned on either side of Matt’s legs before instructing Matt to turn around and then followed the same process from the rear.
He instructed Matt to move to the side and motioned for Alex to move forward to the spot Matt had just left. After following the same procedure with Alex, the guard told Alex she would not be permitted to take pictures except with the express approval of their guide and that the camera, including memory card, would be inspected prior to her departure. If she violated this rule, the camera and the memory card would be destroyed.
Finally, temporary badges, color-coded to reflect their clearance level and stamped with an expiration date and time, were issued. The tags indicated they would be permitted to stay on the premises exactly two hours from their designated appointment time. They were instructed not to take off their interactive tags. If they did, the tour would immediately end and they would be ejected from the premises.
After they cleared that checkpoint, they were escorted to a Humvee parked nearby and told to sit in the back seat. One of the guards jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As they drove through the campus, Matt surveyed the expanse of yard and concrete paths leading to various nondescript one-story buildings. Each of the buildings looked exactly the same as the next one. The landscape was interrupted by fox holes and bunkers throughout the yard. Matt wondered whether these were for training purposes or in anticipation of some type of armed assault on the compound.
They traveled at a fairly brisk pace, but it still took several minutes to reach their destination. The building had a sign out front that read “Administration.” It was also only one-story high, an uncompromising hulk of grey concrete with no windows. The sticker in the front window announced that this building was protected by Preases, a large high-tech security company. Another guard waited in front of the building. When the car stopped, Matt and Alex jumped out and headed toward the building.
Once they were inside, the guard inspected their Protegere-issued ID badges closely and then placed a call. As Alex and Matt waited, they settled into a reception area that was clean and functional but devoid of any decoration. The reading material offered on the table in the center of the room consisted of the latest issue of the NRA’s American Rifleman and Shooting Illustrated. The guard stood immobile in the corner as Alex and Matt flipped through the magazines and waited for their escort. The man avoided all eye contact, but Matt suspected he registered their every move.
Finally, the door to the left of the reception desk burst open. A tall thin woman strode in, shoved her hand out to Matt and blurted, “Mr. Connelly, I’m Patty Shaw and I’m going to be conducting your tour of our world-class facility.”
“Patty, great to meet you,” Matt said as he slowly rose and took her hand. “This is my colleague, Alex Doren.”
Patty appeared to be in her mid-20s. Her flaming red hair was pulled back, but several errant pieces had fallen loose and framed a long attractive face dotted with freckles. She blew the hair back as she exchanged greetings with Alex.
“I want to warn you,” she said addressing them both. “I don’t usually do these types of tours. Typically, visits are coordinated through the North Carolina office and handled by someone else. So you’ll have to bear with me.”
“No problem, Patty,” Matt reassured her. “We appreciate your seeing us on such short notice. We promise not to take up too much of your time.”
“Alright, then let’s begin.” She said as she directed Matt and Alex through the door from which she had just come.
After an uninteresting tour of the administration building, Alex and Matt were led to a large building. The sign out front read “Armory.” They passed their identification cards through a security checkpoint and they were buzzed in to a large warehouse-type building. More than half the room was taken up by an indoor gun range with approximately ten lanes set up for target practice. The other half of the building was comprised of several storage rooms filled with the largest collection of weaponry Matt had ever seen. While he was in the Middle East, the United States had proudly displayed its state-of-the-art military technology as a testament to its reputation as an unparalleled fighting machine. But, here, during this tour, Matt saw technology of the likes he had never seen before or even heard about.
“Protegere is one of the nation’s largest weapons manufacturers,” Patty told them. “And this facility is one of the testing sites for our new technology. Once the weapons have been approved for sale in the marketplace, this facility also serves as a training ground for the end users. You could probably tell driving in that our campus is surrounded by the Everglades so we’re able to coordinate the testing and training without the risk of bothering the neighbors.”
After leaving the Armory, the trio approached a building designated “IT Building.” After passing through yet another electronic security checkpoint, they entered the building. The one-story building was laid out in a wide-open floor plan. From the entrance, you could see clear across the entire floor. Scattered throughout the floor were pods of cubicles separated only by partitions that stood approximately four feet up from the floor. Since it was a Sunday, only a few of the work stations were occupied. The men and women stared intently at their computer screens, ignoring the small group passing through.
The back wall was solid concrete block. Matt thought this was simply an exterior wall of the building, until he noticed two large double doors in the middle. There were no exit signs above the doors. There was a fingerprint pad to the right of the doors. During the course of the tour, they had gone through several doors. All the other entrances required a swipe card to gain access, like the cards Patty, Alex and Matt wore around their necks.
“Patty, what’s that area?” Matt asked gesturing toward the two double doors.
“I have no idea,” she said looking over. “I’ve never been in there.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Matt said heading in that direction.
“We can’t,” Patty said quickly. “That section is off limits to me.”
“Why?” Matt asked. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t have security clearance for that area.”
Matt raised his eyebrows.
“There are swipe cards on each of the computer terminals as well.” She stopped at the closest cubicle and gestured to a computer with a swipe machine affixed to its side. “The computers can’t be accessed until a card has been swiped and the system determines that I’m authorized to operate that computer. Once I’m logged on, the computer allows me access only to the files to which I’m permitted access. The computers track every location I visit and every piece of data I access. The card also has a microchip in it so security knows exactly where I am and what I’m doing at any given moment.”
Matt whistled softly. “Impressive.”
By this time, they had completed a loop around the perimeter of the IT Building. Matt glanced back at the double doors as Patty directed them toward the exit.
The last building on their tour was the physical training facility, a state of the art gymnasium the size of a large warehouse. In one corner were weight benches and weight-training equipment. In another corner large mats were set up for martial arts and hand-to-hand combat training. In the center were four large boxing rings surrounded by boxing bags hanging from the ceiling. Halfway up the wall was a running track. A lone man was working out in the corner. He bounced lightly on his toes, jumping rope with the grace of a dancer.