Eraserbyte (byte series Book 7)

by Cat Connor

  I laughed. As if anyone was wandering around naked; tactics room, not locker room.

  “I need a favor, Andrews. Two men for a protection detail.”

  “Volunteers or do you have people in mind?”

  “I have two of your men in mind. But warn them, it’s a surveillance job and possibly quite boring.” My fingers crossed all by themselves. Boring is safe. With Mitch on the team, I wanted as much boring as a person could handle.

  “Names?” Andrews asked.

  “Jerry Dixon and Kris Gibson.”

  “You’re in luck, they’re both on today.” He turned around and scanned the room. “They should be in the armory. Wait one, I’ll get them.”

  I checked my phone while I waited. An email from Mitch. He said he was ready when I was. A warm glow spread through my stomach matched only by the smile on my face. I typed a reply explaining I was getting him a protective detail.

  I looked up to see Kris and Jerry walking toward me, carrying large bags and H & K MP5 assault rifles.

  “Hey, Conway,” Jerry said setting his bag down and shaking my hand. “Got a job for us?”

  “Yeah, did Andrews warn you … might be a bit boring? We’re doing a surveillance job and I need a protection detail.”

  “He did warn us. I’m sure we’ll cope. Who are we protecting?”

  “Mitch Iverson.” I couldn’t even say his name without smiling. I bit my lip. “He’ll be controlling a tiny drone for us. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

  Jerry grinned. “That smile just then … he’s the cause, yes?”

  No use denying it. I obviously couldn’t hide it. “Yep. Just look after him.”

  Kris grinned at me. “Risky, taking someone special into the field.”

  “Yeah, hence you two. Delta is two men down. You good to go now? I’ll brief you with the team.”

  “We’re good,” Jerry replied. “Let’s do it.”

  Andrews called out his goodbyes.

  We walked down to my floor, taking the stairs, not the elevator. I saw Kurt in Sandra’s office and stopped in the open doorway. “Either of you heard from Campbell?”

  Kurt nodded. “He’s waiting on you. Permission to fly was granted – the window is limited.”

  “How limited?”

  “You need to locate those women within an hour of the launch and follow up with the hummingbird.”

  “Okay.”

  Sure, an hour to locate three women in D.C. Easy? Hell, yes.

  “Our meeting room twenty minutes. Can you notify Campbell and Troy? I’ll get Mitch.”

  I motioned to Kris and Jerry and pointed them to the meeting room. “Go in, make yourselves comfortable. I won’t be long.” I headed down to my office while dialing Mitch’s cell phone.

  He answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, how quickly can you get here with that toy?”

  “Ten minutes,” he replied. “Where should I meet you?”

  “I’ll wait for you at the visitor entrance on Pennsylvania.”

  “That’s the main entrance, right?”

  “Yep. Once the CIA bird is airborne, we’ll have an hour to locate the women.”

  “I’ll bring everything I need with me.”

  “See you soon,” I replied.

  “You will,” Mitch said. I heard his smile. The warm feeling in my stomach flooded back.

  I hung up and sat at my desk. Without warning, a clawing cold replaced the warmth in my stomach.

  Breathe.

  Icy tendrils eased through my nervous system.

  Nothing bad is going to happen.

  Breathe.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled.

  Breathe.

  I glanced at the clock on my wall. Ten minutes.

  Time enough to access the file I’d set up for this case, Operation Visitor. I didn’t believe they were tourists any more than I believed in Santa or the Easter Bunny.

  Troy added his information to the file. I scrolled through images of the women and their entry cards, matching faces and names. I printed pictures, placed them inside a manila folder and then sent the photos to our phones and to Mitch’s.

  The phone on my desk rang. I pressed the speaker button. “Conway.”

  “Chicky Babe,” Sam crooned from my desk.

  “Hey, how goes it?”

  “Just landed at SFO. Everything okay your end?”

  “So far so good. Deploying drones very soon.”

  “Dammit … and we’re missing the geeky tech good times.”

  “You are. While you’re sitting around twiddling your thumbs, can you run some names by Faye in New Zealand?”

  “Your case has a New Zealand connection too?”

  “Oh yeah, starting to see what I’m seeing?”

  “I am. You want us to come back? If this is a decoy or a distraction …” He didn’t finish his thought. He didn’t need to. If someone just successfully split Delta A, then I’m freaking glad to have a couple of SWAT guys with us.

  “Run these names by Faye … it won’t hurt to check even though I don’t expect anything. Ready?”

  “Yep, fire.”

  “Trudi Welsh, Susan Hollows, Danielle Lane.”

  “Got them,” he replied then repeated the names back.

  “I’m out. Need to get this show on the road.”

  “Stay safe, Chicky.”

  “I intend to.”

  I hung up, picked up the folder and walked into the meeting room.

  “These are the women we’re looking for today,” I said, sliding the file across the table in the center of the room. “I’ll be back.”

  Nine

  Lips of an Angel

  My cell rang. I answered it, watching Mitch enter the atrium, a smile settled on his lips. He carried a metal case. I returned his smile and signaled for him to wait by the desk for me.

  “Caine?”

  “Cox and Trudenca were released on bail.”

  “What?”

  “I see your reaction was the same as mine and the DA’s.”

  “How the hell did that even happen?” Stunned.

  People hurried past or stood around in small groups talking. Busy as usual. I listened to Caine tell me they had no idea how Trudenca’s lawyer managed to get them out on bail. Or how a lowlife like Trudenca came up with the two million dollars the judge set as the bail amount. I imagined his parents helped.

  My thoughts were dark and my gut told me Trudenca would be dead by morning. I thanked Caine for the heads up and walked over to the desk.

  An odd awkwardness descended over me as I signed the visitor log to allow Mitch access to the building. We hadn’t worked together before and I wasn’t sure how we would handle it.

  The agent manning the desk handed me a visitor’s pass. I clipped it to Mitch’s lapel.

  “You need to sign in,” I said, pointing to the log.

  He signed the book adding relevant data to the appropriate lines. Mitch Iverson. Iverson Technology.

  “Sir, are you carrying any weapons?” The desk agent asked.

  “No.”

  “What’s in the case, sir?”

  I stepped in. “He’s with me, agent. The case is classified.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I turned and pointed to the stairwell door. My heart pounded. It was hard being that close to him and not touching. No kiss hello. No hug. Working. It was strange.

  It was a relief to be in the stairwell, just us.

  “Okay?” Mitch asked as we paused on the first landing.

  “I think so,” I replied. “I think so.”

  His hand touched my arm; warmth spread from his fingers. “You need to be sure, El.”

  “I’m okay. It’s just, this is … this is different.”

  “Harder than normal us,” he said.

  “Professional distance is no fun.”

  We continued the climb.

  “Breathe, it’ll get easier. It’ll be fun like usual.”

  “I’m bre
athing.”

  “Do I know anyone you’re working with today?”

  “Only Kurt and Sandra,” I replied. “Sandra will stay in the office and be on hand for queries, et cetera.”

  Four landings later, we reached our destination floor. I opened the door for Mitch.

  “Now where?” he asked.

  “Right, about three-quarters of the way down the corridor. We’re using a meeting room.”

  “Do I get to see your office?”

  With a smile, I replied, “Absolutely.” We walked in silence to the meeting room. I swung the door open. Kurt, Iain, Sandra, Troy, Kris and Jerry all looked up from their conversations. “And we’re all here. Introductions.” Mitch stood next to me. “Easiest way is often the best. This is Mitch Iverson, left to right, go …”

  “Kris Gibson, SWAT.”

  “Jerry Dixon, SWAT.”

  “Think you know me. Hi, Mitch,” Kurt said with a grin.

  “Me too,” Sandra said. “Nice to see you, Mitch.”

  “Iain Campbell, Homeland.”

  “Justin Troy, FBI.”

  “Nice to meet you all,” Mitch replied and sat down next to me.

  Our thighs touched for a moment.

  Breathe.

  “Let’s do this thing,” I said. “We have limited time. I’ve sent photos of the targets to your phones … apart from Jerry and Kris. I don’t have your cell numbers, so you have hard copies. Everyone familiar with the targets?”

  An affirmative murmur followed.

  “There is a pattern of sorts in the targets’ movements. We still do not know where they are staying. I don’t think it’s within the District. Pattern so far, the women arrive in the city before ten in the morning and have been seen on Metro cameras. Sticking to the pattern means they’ll be on a train about now. I think they’ll take the Green line today. My money is on The Navy Yard as their destination.”

  Iain took his phone out of his pocket and made a call.

  We waited, listening only to his side of the conversation. Moments after making the call, he hung up.

  “Had to check,” he said. “No one from New Zealand has applied for permission to be in the Navy Yard this week.”

  “I doubt that will stop them. No one asked for permission to go inside the Department of Energy complex either,” Sandra said, “I’ll tap into the Metro cameras and see if I can see something before we lose the feed. I guess if we lose the feed then we know we’re on the right track.”

  Something on the wall caught my eye. A still-life painting. A bowl of oranges.

  Yeah, that’s normal.

  I knew it wasn’t there when I walked into the room.

  What should be there? The Delta team seal. Not oranges. The painting changed and now a child sat at a table eating an orange.

  Breathe.

  “I can’t base this on anything other than my overwhelming desire for an orange, but I think they’ll change lines at L’Enfant Plaza,” I said. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. Everything was orange. Orange. The orange became a single line.

  Metro orange line ran from Vienna in Fairfax County, Virginia to New Carrollton, Maryland. “I think they’re in Virginia somewhere.”

  I felt Mitch’s questions and Kurt’s eyes studying me from across the table. Neither of them said a word. For that, I was thankful.

  The orange faded. Our seal returned. Fidelity, Bravery … ‘I’ for Integrity, not insanity.

  Sandra’s pen moved at speed across her notebook. She looked up. “Based on that, I’m going back to my office. I need to be watching the cameras at L’Enfant Plaza. If you’re right and they switch lines there, then we should get a good clear series of images. I’ll let you know.” She stood up, said goodbye, and disappeared.

  “How sure are you?” Kurt asked me.

  “I could be wrong …”

  “One day maybe, doesn’t feel like that day is here.”

  “I hope not.” I glanced around the table. “Iain, the drone should be deployed to cover the area from the Navy Yard Metro stop to the Navy Yard.”

  “That’s a compact and very specific area. You don’t want to widen that?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “We’ve only got an hour from the minute we launch the vehicle,” he reminded everyone.

  “I know.”

  I knew. I was putting all my eggs in one basket because it made sense. The Navy Yard made sense. But not if they were planning to attack the President only; it made sense if they intended to use a multifaceted approach. Terror was best deployed to terrify as much of the population as possible and to confuse a situation. The list of potential targets in D.C. was extensive.

  “Okay. As long as you’re aware,” Iain said.

  “I am aware. Now, once you locate the women with the big drone, Mitch will send in the hummingbird. We need to be close for that. Kurt and I will be on the ground, guided by Mitch. Kris and Jerry will be with Mitch at all times.” I looked at Kris and Jerry. “You do not leave him. Got it?”

  “We got it,” Jerry said with a small smile. “It might even be fun.”

  I hoped not.

  “Let me know when you want the drone in the air, I’ll be liaising with flight comms,” Iain said.

  “Waiting on confirmation from Sandra …”

  As if on cue, my phone buzzed.

  I read the text. “Visual confirmation of the three women at L’Enfant Plaza.” I glanced at my watch. “We have seven minutes before they get on a green line train.”

  My mind is a scary place full of numbers and dates and apparently train timetables.

  Iain made his call to deploy the drone and get it into position.

  “We’re moving out. Iain, you and Troy can use my office. Everything you need should be there, if not Sandra will locate it for you.”

  “Your office will be fine.”

  “Jerry, take one of the Delta SUVs, Mitch will ride with you. At this point, we are heading toward the Navy Yard. If anything changes, we’ll inform you.” I looked at the SWAT guys. “Need your cell numbers.” I slid my phone across the table to Kris. “Add your number then give it to Jerry. Add me to your phones but phones are not our primary communication device.”

  Kurt set a black case on the table and opened it. “We’re using these.” He unpacked familiar-looking comms equipment. “Channel four. Emergency channel is one.”

  Kurt passed the in-ear bone conduction headsets and control units around the table. “SWAT has been using this tech for a while now, I believe,” he said.

  “Yes, we have,” Kris replied.

  “This is a plug-and-go system,” Kurt said for everyone else’s benefit. “I won’t go as far as to say idiot-proof, but it’s pretty damn close. Push to talk is a T-switch, low-profile and a silent press. You can wear it on your vests or your palm.” Kurt looked at Mitch. “Palm probably easiest for you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You okay with that?” I asked Mitch.

  “Yes, if not, I’m sure Jerry or Kris will help me out.”

  “Okay, one last thing. Radio code.”

  Kurt smiled. “I got it,” he said, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and reading aloud, “Ellie is Nutcracker. I am Rook. Mitch is Blue Jay. Jerry is Crow. Kris is Magpie and Iain is Raven.” He looked around the table. “As a collective we are Corvid. Blue Jay, Crow, and Magpie are collectively Mobile Nest. Everyone okay with that? Anyone need a repeat?”

  Heads shook.

  Nutcracker? Are you kidding me?

  “Okay. We’re going,” I said and stood up.

  My heart pounded so hard I thought it was trying to find a way out of my chest. It did not feel good. Nervous. Shouldn’t be. A giant cloud of doom encroached. I shoved it away.

  Mitch touched my shoulder.

  “Breathe,” he said in a low whisper. “Focus.”

  “I got this,” I replied with a smile. “See you out there. Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  I left b
efore my heart threatened to cartwheel out of my mouth and followed Kurt down the hall. Behind us, I could hear Kris, Jerry, and Mitch talking as they walked. We reached the elevator before I realized I couldn’t hear them at all. I could hear Mitch and he wasn’t talking, he was thinking.

  Just Mitch.

  I liked it.

  Ten

  Carry On

  Before we got near our destination, the voices changed. Iain broke in, “Go for Nutcracker and Rook. Eyes on the targets. Looks like you were right, Nutcracker. Targets have emerged from the Metro and are walking toward the Navy Yard. Over.”

  I pressed the push-to-talk button on my vest. “Good copy, Raven. Stay with them. Can you see who is on the gate? Over.”

  “Go for Nutcracker. Wait one … Over.”

  I waited, scanning the gray sky through the windscreen for any signs of the drone.

  Campbell’s voice erupted in my ear, “Go for Nutcracker. Police,” he said. “No wait, rent-a-cop. Over.”

  Should be a marine. That’s not a public accessible gate. A ball of tightly wound dread formed in my stomach.

  “Good copy, Raven. Out.”

  Kurt glanced at me.

  “All right?”

  “You heard Iain. They’re going to walk right in, rent-a-cop on the gate.”

  “No way should that happen, especially after the 2013 shooting here.”

  “Five bucks says he lets them in,” I said.

  Kurt was right; it shouldn’t happen but I knew it would.

  “Not betting against you.”

  No one ever does.

  “I could be wrong.”

  “Yeah, that’s not today.”

  “So sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because so far you’ve been right.”

  “Pull over. We’re going in on foot.”

  I called NCIS at their office inside the Navy Yard. A familiar place; not only had my father worked there but we had a good relationship with Noel Gerrard’s former NCIS team. The last time I was in the Navy Yard was to remove evidence from Christopher Doyle’s office, former Director of NCIS, after his arrest. The Washington Navy Yard and I had history.

  “It’s SSA Conway. Can someone meet me at the 6th and M Street gate?”

  The gate on M Street and the 6th Street was for Department of Defense Common Access cardholders and military personnel only. To get to the public access gates, we’d have to go around to N or O streets, taking time we didn’t have.