by Alex Siegel
"Just let me out of the car," Katie said. "I need to get the blood moving in my legs."
The obvious place to start the investigation was "Lake Francis Resort." He drove into the dirt parking lot and looked around. The "resort" was just a cleared area where people could park recreational vehicles or camp out. He saw only one permanent structure called the Palace Restaurant, and he parked in front of it.
Hanley and Katie got out of the car. He groaned as he stretched his arms and back. They had made the long drive with only brief restroom breaks.
The restaurant had a green wooden façade which was probably intended to look "old timey." Despite being the middle of the day, he didn't see much activity.
He looked over at Katie. "Ready?"
She was wearing a flowing black skirt which went down to her ankles and provided ample room to hide weapons. A yellow knit sweater was just right for the cool weather in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Hanley was wearing slacks and a button-up shirt, and his outfit was a bit too light.
"Sure," she said. "Let's go."
They entered the restaurant. It had plenty of "country charm" which didn't appeal to Hanley. He frowned at a dusty moose head above the fireplace. The furniture was made of varnished wood, and he estimated about a hundred people could sit inside, but only one table was in use at the moment.
He and Katie took a table in the corner and sat with their backs to the wall. They had good views of all the entrances.
A waitress wearing a blue shirt and a green apron came over. She was a middle-aged woman with brown, curly hair. She handed out two menus with a smile.
"Can I get you started with anything, darling?" she said.
"Just a big glass of water for me," Hanley said.
"Same here," Katie said.
The waitress left.
He studied the lunch menu, and it contained mostly burgers and sandwiches. The dinner section had more expensive items, but he didn't know if they were available at this time of day, and he didn't want to risk it anyway. He had learned the hard way to stick to simple, easy foods when trying a questionable restaurant.
"What's the plan?" Katie said.
Hanley shrugged. "I don't really have one. We'll ask people if they've seen anything strange lately."
"That seems like a long-shot."
"This whole trip is probably a complete waste of time, but Marina ordered us to be here, so we have to do our best."
The waitress returned a few minutes later with glasses of water. Hanley ordered a mushroom Swiss burger and onion rings. Katie ordered a chef salad.
Before the waitress could leave, Hanley asked, "I have a question."
"Yes?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Have you seen or heard anything strange lately?"
"What do you mean?"
"People who seem unusual," he said. "Rumors of trouble. Lights late at night."
She shrugged. "I don't think so, but this is a resort. Odd people come through here all the time." She walked off.
He frowned.
"Try to keep a positive attitude," Katie said. "At least we're out in the country on a beautiful spring day. The mountains are amazing."
"Yes." He sighed. "And if we're lucky, the food won't suck."
* * *
Marina was sitting in her office. She had a computer on her desk, but it wasn't fancy like the ones her hackers used. Hers just had a single monitor, a standard keyboard, and a mouse. Her one token of ergonomic design was a padded wrist rest.
She was looking at satellite photos of Dobbins and the surrounding area. She didn't expect to find much, but at least she was contributing to the investigation. Her assistants had been unable to find any new leads.
Aaron entered her office without knocking. He was wearing a white karate uniform with a gray belt. He had been working out with Ipo and was still a little flushed.
"You've been messing with your computer for a while. Did you learn anything?"
"A little," Marina said. "There is a giant dam near Dobbins, the New Bullards Bar Dam to be specific. It's 645 feet tall and generates 315 megawatts of hydroelectric power."
"Impressive," Aaron said.
"Otherwise, there is nothing but mountains and trees for many miles in every direction."
"Hmm."
He walked around her desk and stood behind her. She could smell his sweat but didn't mind at all. She loved everything about him.
"Let me see that dam," Aaron said.
Marina typed on her keyboard. She was just using a mapping website she had found on the internet. She didn't know how to use the much more sophisticated technology employed by her hackers.
She found a close-up of the dam. It was a circular arc made of concrete with a sloping face. A spillway ran down the right side. The dam held back the large and deep New Bullards Bar Reservoir.
"I wonder how strong it is," Aaron said.
"It's probably built to withstand an earthquake," Marina said, "so the answer would be 'very'."
"Pan around the area. What else is there?"
She used her mouse to drag the view. The reservoir had a marina with about thirty boats tied to the dock. The terrain was mountainous and thickly forested, and there were few roads.
"Not much," she said.
"Wait. What's that?"
He pointed at a spot on her screen, and she zoomed in. Colorful, rectangular boxes were lying at the end of a narrow road as if they had been dumped there.
"They must be big." Aaron said. "Train cars?"
"Maybe Min Ho can get a better picture," Marina said.
The two commanders left the office and hurried across headquarters. Ipo was lying on his back on the blue pads in the exercise area, and he looked too exhausted to move. Aaron had worked him hard.
Min Ho was sitting at his computer workstation.
"I need a recent, high-resolution satellite photo," Marina said. She described the location.
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
After a moment, an image appeared on his monitor. The photo had obviously been taken by a military spy satellite because the details were very sharp. The mysterious boxes were shipping containers like the kind used on cargo ships.
"Why would somebody dump them in the middle of the forest?" Marina said.
"I don't know," Aaron said, "but it's worth checking out."
* * *
Hanley's phone rang. He checked the caller ID and saw Marina's code number.
"Excuse me," he said.
He and Katie were talking to a Yuba County Sheriff's deputy. The deputy had issued the speeding ticket which had originally caused interest in Dobbins.
Hanley stepped away and put the phone to his ear. "Ma'am?"
"I have a task for you," Marina said. "We found a pile of shipping containers near the reservoir. We want you to check it out."
He raised his eyebrows. "Shipping containers?"
"They shouldn't be where they are. Unless you have some great lead which you want to pursue instead."
"No, not really."
"Then I'll text you the details," she said. "Bye."
The call ended, and he put away his phone.
Hanley returned to the deputy. He was a stocky man in a light brown uniform. His black hair was cut short and flat on top. Narrow eyes gave him a permanent squint.
"Sorry about that," Hanley said. "You were saying?"
"I just remember there were two men in the car," the deputy said. "I can't describe them, except I think one had a beard. It was weeks ago, and I hand out a lot of tickets."
Marina had made arrangements for the deputy to meet the legionnaires in Dobbins. They were standing in front of the tiny post office which served the area. The parking lot had just four spaces for cars.
"I know," Hanley said, "but this is important. Those were wanted men. Any clue would be helpful."
"Sorry. I wrote a report."
"Three sentences isn't much of a report."
"It was just a speeding ticket," the deputy
said. "They weren't even going very fast."
Hanley exhaled with frustration. He looked over at the deputy's white patrol car which had a decorative green stripe. A small camera was mounted behind the windshield.
"Do you think you caught them on camera?"
"They never got out of the car," the deputy said, "so I doubt it."
"OK. Thank you for your time, officer."
Hanley and Katie walked out of the parking lot and down the narrow road. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the many trees. A layer of light clouds diffused the sunlight and cooled the air. Spring showers had made fields of grass and flowers nicely green.
"Who was the call from?" Katie said.
"Marina. She wants us to look at shipping containers."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Hanley said, "but it can't be any more useless than what we're doing now."
* * *
Hanley was gripping the steering wheel tightly as the car bounced along the dirt road. Portions had washed out forcing him to weave back and forth. Tree branches scraped the roof and windows of the car. He hadn't seen a road sign or any indication of human habitation in miles. The road obviously hadn't been maintained in years.
It had been recently used though. Wide, deep tire tracks looked like they had come from a large truck, and they were fresh. Driving a truck down such a poor road had taken a lot of guts, and Hanley suspected criminal motives.
"I've investigated some remote locations," Katie said, "but this might top the list."
Hanley tapped the screen of the navigation system in the car. "Thank God for this."
By the time they found the shipping containers, he was sure he needed to visit a chiropractor. He got out of the car, popped his back, and looked at the evidence.
Ten shipping containers had been dumped on the side of the road among the trees, breaking some branches. The containers were green, orange, red, and blue. A lack of corrosion indicated they hadn't been there for long, and a few scrape marks in the dirt were still visible.
Katie walked over to the nearest container.
"Careful what you touch," Hanley warned. "We want to collect prints."
She nodded. After careful inspection, she pulled open the back door of the nearest container. "It's empty."
They checked the other containers and found they were also empty. Hanley had hoped to find a little garbage or debris that might be useful as a clue, but the containers had been swept out thoroughly.
"This is very strange," he said. "Somebody went to a great deal of trouble to get rid of empty containers. Hauling them down this road must've been a real pain in the ass."
"I'll send the serial numbers back to headquarters," Katie said.
She took out her phone and started taking pictures. Each container had a string of eleven letters and numbers printed on the back. In a few cases, somebody had scraped off the serial number with a sander, but the rest had been left alone.
The bad guys got lazy, Hanley thought.
"How did Marina find these?" Katie said.
"I don't know. I'm guessing she saw them in a satellite photo."
"Lucky."
"Very," he said. "After you're done with the pictures, we'll dust for prints."
* * *
Marina's phone chirped. She found a message from Katie containing a large number of photos. The pictures were focused on serial numbers.
Marina hurried over to Min Ho.
He glanced up at her. "I got the same message, ma'am," he said. "I'm already investigating."
Aaron joined them. It had been a long, frustrating day so far, but at least Marina had spent it with her lover. She was already dreading the inevitable moment when he went home.
"I found the records," Min Ho said. "The containers were stolen from the Port of Los Angeles."
"When?" Marina said.
"One at a time over the last few months from different locations. Here is a number you can call." He pointed at information on his screen.
She called the phone number. Aaron leaned in to listen.
A woman answered, "American Intermodal Management. How can I help you?"
"I'm Detective Spitz with the Yuba County Sheriff Department." Marina checked the information on Min Ho's computer. "Six weeks ago, you reported a shipping container as stolen. I may have some information about it."
"Hold on, ma'am."
Marina was routed through different people until she was finally connected to the person who had filed the police report.
"This is Mr. Don," a man said. "You found our container?"
"Maybe. Here is the serial number." Marina read the number off of Min Ho's screen.
"That's the one. Where is it?"
"First, what was in the container when it was stolen?"
"Nothing," Don said. "It was empty."
She furrowed her brow. "Really?"
"Yes, it was strange. We often have problems with people stealing stuff out of full containers, but we rarely lose an entire container, and this is the first time we've lost an empty one. We didn't even notice for a few days. It was sitting in the yard with a thousand other empty containers, and somebody snatched it."
"How is that possible? Those things are heavy."
"They obviously had a flatbed truck," Don said. "Are you going to bring it back?"
"To Los Angeles? I don't think so. Besides, it's criminal evidence. I'll let you know where you can pick it up after we're done with it. Thanks."
Marina hung up and faced Aaron.
"There is only one possible conclusion," he said.
"Which is?" she asked.
"The bad guys needed to ship a lot of material from Los Angeles to Dobbins, and they didn't want a paper trail, so they stole the containers."
"And I'm guessing the material was smuggled from out of the country," Marina said. "The Port of Los Angeles handles a lot of contraband."
"It must have something to do with the dam. It's the only thing up there."
"I don't know. Seems like we're grasping at straws."
"My gut is telling me we're on the right track," Aaron said.
"I can't argue with such a manly gut." She rubbed his hard abdominal muscles affectionately.
"You'd better send Ipo and Liam up there. It could get interesting."
Marina took out her phone.
* * *
Hanley was spraying dust onto the door handle of a shipping container. The dust was an extremely fine, black powder, and a specialized plastic squirt gun was laying down a nice, even coating, but he wasn't finding any fingerprints. It was possible rain had washed them off, but it was more likely they had never been there. The perpetrators could've worn gloves.
Hanley's phone rang. He put down his sprayer and his magnifying glass.
He put the phone to his ear. "Yes?"
"The containers were stolen," Marina said. "We believe they were used to transport something dangerous or illegal to your location. Check out the New Bullards Bar Dam. It's the only interesting thing in the area."
"Yes, ma'am. We passed it on the way over here. It's huge."
"And the reservoir is a major source of fresh water for California. It's a good target for mischief. I'm sending Ipo and Liam to help out. They should arrive in the late evening."
"They'll be hungry," Hanley said. "We'll meet them at the Palace Restaurant."
"Got it. Bye."
He put away his phone.
Katie walked over. She had also been dusting for prints, and a little of the black powder had marked her cheek. The sticky stuff got everywhere.
"Any luck?" Hanley said.
She shook her head. "The only prints I found were my own."
"Marina wants us to check out the dam next."
She smiled a little. "That will be more interesting than empty containers at least."
"I hope so." Hanley stared at the shipping containers. "But I'm not quite done here. Did we pack the bomb sniffer?"
"I think so, but I don't know
how to use it."
"I do. The FBI Special Missions Unit used them all the time."
He went to the car. He and Katie had chosen a gray Chevy Impala for today's assignment mostly because it had a very large trunk. He opened the trunk, and it was packed to capacity with gray bags.
Hanley pulled out the bags and picked through the contents until he found the bomb sniffer. It weighed about five pounds and could be carried in one hand. A sensor and a small computer display were mounted on top. The sniffer came with a plastic bag full of paper wipes. The device could "smell" explosives in the air directly, but it was much more sensitive when wipes were used to collect chemical residue.
"What can that detect?" Katie said.
"Most common explosives. Marina told me something dangerous or illegal was transported in these containers. Bombs or weapons are a possibility."
Hanley went to the nearest container. He wiped the interior surface with one of the paper strips, and then he stuck the strip into the sniffer.
"How sensitive is it?" she said.
"Extremely. It can find residue in the parts per quadrillion range."
"Wow."
The sniffer didn't detect anything interesting, so Hanley moved on to the next container. On the second try, the little display lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Bingo!" he said. "RDX and PETN. That stuff is used for bombs."
He continued to work through the containers. Six of the ten showed traces of explosives, and he became very concerned.
Hanley called Marina.
"Yes?" the commander said.
"I checked the shipping containers for explosive residue, ma'am," he said. "I got a positive reading on six of them."
"Oh."
"I don't know what the capacity of a single container is, but it has to be many tons. We're talking about the possibility of a truly enormous amount of explosive."
"Enough to blow up a dam?" Marina said.
Hanley furrowed his brow. "Yes. It's the only target that makes sense."
"You'd better get over there."
"Right away, ma'am. Bye." He closed his phone and turned to Katie. "Let's go!"
* * *
Hanley drove onto the top of the New Bullards Bar Dam. It was even more impressive up close.
A huge reservoir was on the north side, and it was hard to believe a man-made object could hold back so much water. Blue-green ripples sparkled in the light of an afternoon sun. Boats were docked at a small marina, and they looked tiny in comparison. Trees covered the surrounding hills.