Eraserbyte (byte series Book 7)

by Cat Connor

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Five minutes.” I looked up the street.

  Didn’t seem like much of a hill from where I stood but I knew it was a little more than a gentle slope. Rain splattered the windshield. I opened the car door and walked around to the sidewalk removing my vest as I went.

  I slid my left hand through the elastic band that held the push-to-talk button, and adjusted it, making the button comfortable in my palm. I depressed the button by closing my hand around it. “Go for Corvid. Heads up people. Kurt and I are on foot. Where are the targets? Over.”

  Iain’s voice was crystal clear in my head.

  “Go for Nutcracker and Rook. Long message. From your position, they are fifty yards back in a doorway. One was looking at a phone before they ducked under the awning to shelter from the rain. Can’t get this big bird low enough to see what they’re doing now. Over.”

  “Good copy, Raven. We’re going to stay ahead and go in first. Keep us posted. Nutcracker Out.”

  I turned to Kurt. “Pop the trunk. Leaving the vest.”

  He did as I asked. Our FBI vests and jackets would draw too much attention. From the trunk, I took my jacket. Kurt did the same. I’d expected a modicum of the usual protest when I ditched my vest. This didn’t feel like a shooty or stabby problem. Felt more explody. A vest wouldn’t help if that were the case.

  A smoky haze filled the air. I blinked but it stayed. Flames. Smoke. Sirens. Screams. I leaned on the car and closed my eyes. When I opened them a few seconds later, the smoke was gone.

  “Conway?”

  “Henderson?”

  “What was that?”

  “The street filled with smoke,” I replied, throwing nonchalant into my voice and hoping it stuck.

  “Smoke from?”

  This is a perfectly normal conversation to have.

  “I don’t know, but I suspect an explosion at the Navy Yard.”

  My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen. A text from Mitch. I read it twice.

  Mitch: Where did the smoke come from?

  We were ascending to new levels all the time. This didn’t feel like too big a step.

  Me: Did you see it?

  Mitch: Yes

  Me: I’ll explain later. Let’s do this thing first.

  Mitch: a smiley face.

  I pocketed my phone and turned to Kurt, who watched me with a mix of amusement and concern. Normal then.

  “Camera?” I asked.

  Kurt patted his jacket pocket. “Yes.” He shouldered his backpack.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Iain’s voice broke into our conversation. “Go for Nutcracker and Rook. They’re moving toward you now. Over.”

  Kurt replied, “Copy that, Raven. We’re on our way. Out.”

  We walked and didn’t look back. Iain was right; there was a rent-a-cop on the gate. He asked for our ID but didn’t really look at it. Beyond him, I saw Jen wave. She and another special agent I recognized as Kathy stood waiting for us.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Jen asked. The four of us stepped back behind the guardhouse. Off the sidewalk and not quite on the road.

  “Just visiting,” I replied with a smile.

  “We need to be out of the way but with line of sight to the gate,” Kurt said, looking around.

  “Because you’re just visiting …” Kathy’s disbelief echoed in the air. “Over here.” She moved away and we followed. Standing across the road in the shadow of the building, we could clearly see the street and anyone approaching. Rain dripped steadily off the guttering above us.

  I turned away slightly and pressed the talk button.

  “Go for Blue Jay. They’re almost in. We’re ready for the hummingbird. Over.”

  Iain replied, “Go for Nutcracker and Rook. The big drone is being recalled. The video feed is downloading now. Over.”

  “Copy that, Raven. Nutcracker out.”

  Mitch’s voice sounded in my ear. “Go for Nutcracker. Good copy. Out.”

  I turned to Kathy and Jen. “Three women will enter the gate on foot in a few minutes. The women are foreign civilians and about to enter a restricted gate. We also have a car coming onto the base.”

  “The car is just visiting too?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You think there is a briefing we missed?” Jen said to Kathy.

  “Think so.”

  “Gerrard might have bought this …” Jen said.

  No, he wouldn’t. He would have crucified me as soon as he realized I hadn’t shared information.

  “Our targets are entering the base. We need to use our own surveillance,” I said.

  I saw the women. The rent-a-cop stopped them. One of them flashed something and he let them through.

  Dammit. The drone would’ve been able to see what she flashed.

  “You going to let our car in?”

  Mitch spoke in my ear.

  “Go for Nutcracker. Hummingbird is up, picture is crystal clear. Over.”

  I pressed the talk button. “Copy, Blue Jay. You didn’t happen to see what the woman showed the guard? Over.”

  “Copy that Nutcracker. Passport. Over,” Mitch said. “Helpful? Over.”

  “Affirmative, Blue Jay, thank you. Out.”

  “Go for Nutcracker and Rook. By the way, I have a Defense CAC. We’re good to enter this gate. Out,” Mitch said.

  “Copy that, Blue Jay. Out.”

  I smiled at Jen. “Never mind. We don’t need authorization.”

  “You have someone in that car with DoD clearance,” she said with a small smile. “Well played, Ellie.”

  Well played indeed. Who knew?

  I signaled to Jerry to pull over as the car drove through the gate unchallenged. I went to talk to them. Jen and Kathy joined us. Jerry wound down his window.

  “Let the women go ahead, we don’t want them thinking we’re all following them. They know they shouldn’t be here and they must know they shouldn’t have used that gate. Let them think it’s all good,” I said. “Mitch, you okay?” I peered into the backseat where he sat, focused on a laptop screen.

  “Yes. The targets are still walking. Bird is performing well. Ticking all the boxes.”

  I smiled at him, his eyes flashed to mine for a second. Warmth.

  “I’ll leave you to it and brief NCIS. Then Kurt and I will go for a stroll.”

  “Be careful, El.”

  “Always.”

  I stepped away and talked to Jen and Kathy, filling them in on what we saw as the situation, conceding I could have briefed them sooner. They accepted that I didn’t know for sure that the Navy Yard was the destination of the day until they arrived at the nearest Metro station and started walking toward it.

  The four of us walked down the street. We were in no hurry. Somewhere ahead of us, the tiny drone watched and listened to the women as they chatted. Every now and then, I heard Mitch. I couldn’t tell anymore if he was using comms or I could just hear his thoughts. Either way, it worked for me. He warned us the women had stopped at a bus shelter. We slowed our pace.

  I pressed the talk button. “Go for Crow. Must be getting close to the edge of the range for the drone. Bring the car down to the NCIS building. There is parking out front. Over.”

  His voice came back in my ear. “Copy that, Nutcracker. Moving now. Out.”

  A few moments later, they drove past.

  We walked on. Twenty yards later, we passed the bus shelter. Walking and talking and taking no notice of the women, other than we saw them and I nodded on the way past.

  Two had backpacks. The third carried a shoulder bag.

  Backpacks. Carried by tourists and terrorists alike.

  I smelled smoke. Haze filled the street. My eyes darted around the area. No obvious cause for the smoke. No origin. The smoky haze meant something. Questions erupted: the navy brat that I was pulled a short list together. What was the point of being in the Navy Yard? The Navy Band? That was doubtful. Chief of Naval Operations
? Possible. NAVSEA – that seemed likely, Navy Sea Systems Command. I paused over that thought, trying to remember how many warfare centers that encompassed. Nine. Two undersea and seven surface. Taking out NAVSEA could be why they’re here? Nothing cemented to say I was on the right track.

  “Jen, what’s here apart from NAVSEA that could be a target?”

  “Navy Band?” she smiled. “No?”

  I shook my head. “You’d have to really hate brass instruments.”

  Her tone changed, serious, now. “Naval Reactors, JAG, us, a few classified facilities. The Navy Museum?”

  JAG, Judge Advocate General’s office. Didn’t feel right. Classified facilities. Maybe.

  “Naval Reactors?”

  “That’s the office responsible for the operation of our nuclear propulsion program.”

  A definite maybe on Naval Reactors then. The thought of propulsion systems reminded me that the decommissioned destroyer USS Barry was now a museum ship and moored at the Navy Yard. She’d make a big splash. I pulled out my phone and rang Dad.

  “Quick question, The USS Barry, what is she?”

  “A museum,” Dad replied.

  “Not what I meant.” I sighed. “What class is she?”

  “Destroyer. Forrest-Sherman from memory,” Dad said. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Just trying to figure out something. Barry’s propulsion system?”

  “Steam turbines.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I pocketed my phone and discovered all eyes were on me. “Thinking, that’s all,” I said and went back to my musing. NCIS headquarters? A large building right next door to NCIS housed the Navy Museum. Smoke thickened.

  Mitch’s voice but I couldn’t tell if it was via comms or not. “El, more smoke?”

  I went with comms and pressed the talk button. “Blue Jay? Over.”

  Thoughts muddled. More smoke. What if … what if it was today? What the hell is it?

  “Copy, Nutcracker. Today? Over.”

  My heart pounded so hard I felt dizzy. I didn’t know how to answer him, so I ignored his question.

  “Go for Blue Jay. What are they doing? Over.”

  “Copy, Nutcracker. Still in the bus shelter. Having a picnic. They’re eating. Over.”

  “Blue Jay, a picnic? Over.”

  “Affirmative, Nutcracker. Sandwiches by the look of it. I need to move the bird away a little bit. They’ll notice it soon if I don’t. Over.”

  “Copy, Blue Jay. Out.” I turned to Jen. “Okay to go into the NCIS building? If we stay outside, we’re too obvious.” A black cloud of holy fuck descended. Outside felt bad, unsafe, I wasn’t sure that inside was any better.

  Jen smiled and nodded. She and Kathy led the way.

  Once inside, I rested against a desk and waited. Words climbed the walls in my mind and tumbled to the cold ground.

  I knew I had to say something about the potential POTUS threat thing and the smoke and the possibility that something horrific could happen today. I saw it. It wasn’t something that I should keep to myself. Words. I needed some that didn’t sound like I required an MRI.

  “Kurt?”

  “Yes?” He turned away from the window and faced me. “Something I should know?”

  “Yep. Now that I’ve broken the ice with my orange line observation and I was right … there’s something else. I think the target here is the presidency.”

  Did I really think that? Yeah, I did. Whatever was about to happen at the Navy Yard wasn’t the main event.

  Silence.

  Not even breathing sounds.

  Damn.

  “That’s big, Conway. You got anything to substantiate that?” Kurt asked.

  “Nope. Not a thing. But wait there’s more.” I took a breath. “Twice now I’ve seen smoke coming from here. I can’t explain it, but it feels like a terror attack. It feels like explosions.”

  “So based on nothing, you’re going to put that out there?” Kurt said. “You think the president is under threat and the Navy Yard is going to go bang?”

  “Yes,” I said. “If I don’t say something and I’m right … then what?”

  “Then …” Kurt looked at me. “We can’t go there. That’s not an option.”

  “Those women, Kurt. What’s in those backpacks? We have no reason to stop them and conduct a search.”

  Kathy coughed, letting us know she heard our conversation. “You don’t, but we do. They came in a restricted gate. Let us do this.”

  “Do it,” I said. Then pressed the button in my hand. “Go for Blue Jay. Anything? Over.”

  “Negative, Nutcracker. Still eating. Over.”

  “NCIS are going to talk to them. Over.”

  “Copy, Nutcracker. I’ll bring the bird back in. It’s done well. Out,” Mitch said, the lightness in his voice spoke volumes. He was pleased with his prototype’s first field test.

  “Go for Mobile Nest. Thank you. I want you three out of here. Meet you back at the office. Out.”

  Jerry spoke, “Good copy, Nutcracker. Mobile Nest on our way as soon as the little bird is stowed safely. Out.”

  Kathy and Jen waved as they left the building. Kurt and I waited. We saw Mitch open his door and pick up something small from the ground.

  Two minutes later the car pulled out. I watched them. The car stopped.

  I pressed the button in my palm by closing my hand. “Go for Crow, you need to leave. How copy?”

  “Good copy, Nutcracker. Deploying the drone for one last look. Over.”

  “Negative, Crow. Move the Nest. Now. You’re too close. Out.” I heard my words and they made no sense. Too close to what? “Move now. How copy Mobile Nest?”

  Mitch broke in. “Nutcracker, it’s up and, we’re moving. Breathe. Out.”

  Breathe.

  I stood in the doorway as the car disappeared from view. Everything felt wrong. At the pier, I could see the USS Barry. Gray ship on a gray day. Ghostly. It just needed fog to make a perfect horror movie set. A shudder vibrated up my backbone.

  “Go for Blue Jay. Can you see anything? Over.”

  “Copy, Nutcracker. Be more specific. Over.” His voice smiled.

  Something was counting down.

  A flash lit the corner of my eye. As I turned my head to the left, the building shook: I lost my balance and hit the wall behind me. Debris flew across my line of sight. Hunks of metal slammed into a parked car. Smoke and dust filled the air. Large chunks of brick, concrete and metal crashed from the sky.

  “Break-break, Nutcracker!” Voices in my head belonged to Jerry and Kris.

  “Loud and Clear, Mobile Nest. Get Blue Jay out of here. Out,” I replied, turning my attention to the room we were in as I used the wall for support. “Kurt?”

  “You can be wrong any time now,” he replied, taking a step toward me. “Okay?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Yes.”

  Another massive explosion rocked the building. We hit the ground hard. I looked up in time to see a car crash down onto the pavement outside. I blinked. Mitch was just there. Bile rose.

  My hand closed around the button in my palm, “Break-break. Massive explosion in Naval Yard. Request emergency services.” I paused then pressed the button again. “Go for Blue Jay. It’s today. Out.”

  I struggled to my feet and grabbed for the door handle. Another explosion shook the area. Glass spewed from the destroyed windows, shards spearing desks and chairs. Screams followed. I spun around. Screams from where? There was no one in the bullpen. Where was everyone?

  “What building was it?”

  “I don’t know. Museum?” Kurt replied. He took my hand off the door handle.

  “Maybe museum. Where is everyone?”

  “I don’t know. You ready?”

  “Yep.”

  Kurt swung the door open.

  Silence.

  A thick blanket of smoke and dust fell over the area. We couldn’t see anything in front of us. We couldn’t hear anything. Seconds ticked by then fr
om under the cloud, I heard a cry, then another and another.

  “Kurt, there are kids in there.”

  He held my arm as I moved toward the sounds. Every breath caused coughing. The thick polluted air threatened to choke me. “Wait. They’ll have gas masks in here,” Kurt said.

  He pulled me back inside and shut the door. Smoke crept through the broken windows, rolling over wrecked desks, like dry ice at a concert. The sound disappeared. We scanned the walls looking for the telltale emergency arrow and spotted one. Kurt rifled through the cabinet and found two gas masks similar to those our SWAT teams wore. We pulled them on.

  “Let’s do it,” I said. “You can hear me?”

  “Yep. Voice box amplifier is working,” Kurt replied.

  “Yours too.”

  “Stick close, Conway. I don’t want to lose you out there.”

  Kurt stepped in front of me. I placed my right hand on his shoulder and squeezed, ready for him to move.

  Sixteen paces into the thick smoke, we almost tripped over a dismembered leg. Kurt kept going. My foot hit something – it dislodged an arm from under the rubble. A few stumbled steps later dead eyes stared at me. A deep breath shook my rib cage: time to push the horror away and concentrate on finding the living. After a few more yards, the carnage barely registered. I couldn’t let it. Sounds of life, albeit struggling life, found its way to us. Kurt tapped my hand.

  “Right.”

  I followed.

  Eleven

  Whole Again

  Twelve hours later, Kurt and I stepped out of the elevator and walked down the corridor to my office. Drained. Exhausted. Unable to process all I’d seen. We hadn’t spoken since leaving the Navy Yard. There was nothing to say. We’d seen it, all of it. Touched. Smelled. Vomited. Tried to piece people back together. Held children while life drained away. Lied to parents. Bagged limbs. Consoled the inconsolable. Picked our way through rubble and death to find the origin.

  The wreckage cried out, muffled, lost, broken.

  We’d soon realized where a lot of the people from the NCIS offices were. There was a special celebration happening in the museum. Navy personnel, partners and children.

  The bombs were in the museum. Coat check.