by Cat Connor
Thanks to some idiot journalist who splashed the story all over the internet. We would watch these women and closely. I didn’t like my chances of getting another drone airborne, so I hoped our surveillance teams could handle the task. They’d never let me down before. This cannot be the first time.
Kurt kicked my foot with his. He was not happy.
“Stay in public, like the mall or in your hotel room for the rest of today. Can you do that?” I said.
The three of them nodded.
“And tomorrow?” Trudi asked.
Thought we’d covered tomorrow. Maybe she was rattled.
“Business as usual, you travel via Metro? Train from Vienna?”
“Yes,” Trudi said. “We’re usually on the train about nine-thirty.”
I knew that.
“Good. Have a nice afternoon. We’ll talk again.”
I stood up and moved away, waiting for Kurt by the door.
We glanced back once and saw their heads bowed in conference. There was a lot to discuss. I had their phone numbers. I filled Kurt in on our need for more surveillance. He agreed and made a call to Judge Reinhardt to get a warrant sent straight to Cyber.
I made a call to the office as we went back across the parking lot to the hotel and our car.
“Cyber,” I said and waited.
“How can we help?”
“It’s SSA Conway. I need some roving bugs installed on the following cell phones, please.” I read out the numbers.
“We should be able to do that, are they all smartphones?”
“Yes, they are. Two iPhone 5’s and an android.”
“We have some new software that will look like Facebook updates.”
“Great. Fire away. A-sap.”
“They’ll be up and running within the hour. You have a warrant for this surveillance, I assume?”
Never assume. It makes an ass out of you and me.
“Not quite.” I crossed my fingers and looked at Kurt. “Any minute now.”
“I need the warrant, Conway.”
“I know, it’s coming.” So is Christmas. I hoped the warrant wouldn’t take that long.
Kurt smiled and gave me a thumbs up. He put his phone in his pocket.
“It’s on its way to you now.”
“Excellent. Where shall I send the links?”
“Send to my phone and SSA Henderson’s phone.”
“Sure thing, Agent Conway.”
I hung up as we reached the car.
“How’re we doing for time?” Kurt said, unlocking the doors.
“Not great. Head for Langley,” I replied, opening the back passenger door and grabbing Kurt’s laptop. “Mind if I use your laptop? Mine is sitting on my desk at work. I’ll write that briefing on the way.”
“Go right ahead.” Kurt grinned. “Last minute?”
“Well, I didn’t know anything until now.”
“True.”
My phone rang. Caine’s grumpy face flashed on the screen. I tapped the speaker icon.
“Writing the brief now,” I said. “But that’s not what this call is about is it?”
Caine huffed and snapped, “Cox was found floating in the river. Gunshot wound to the head.”
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“And Trudenca?”
“In the wind. There is a BOLO out on him.”
“Did he kill Cox?”
“No way of knowing that at this point.”
“This is getting very messy.”
“Watch your six,” Caine grumbled. “Nothing good is happening here.”
He hung up.
Kurt and I looked at each other for a split second.
Nothing good was happening anywhere.
Fifteen
Sittin’ On A Fence
Jonathon Tierney met us at the main doors. I looked down at the seal on the floor as we crossed it. Still preferred the FBI seal. The white eagle on the CIA seal appeared menacing. Fitted the agency behind it, I suppose.
“I’ve set up a conference room for your use,” Tierney said.
Yeah, he didn’t, his minions did. He gave orders. His hands rarely touched anything, yet his fingerprints were on so many things. Including my life.
We followed Tierney through the building down long corridors and into a spacious conference room. Nice. I slid the laptop onto the large dark-stained table in the center of the room.
“Need anything else?” Tierney asked.
“I’ll let you know,” I replied. “This is one helluva situation, Jonathon.”
“Worse than our last one?”
“Hard to know. Nukes versus a lunatic bomber intent on God knows what?” I didn’t add anything about his wife. It’s not as if I can kill her twice.
His beady eyes brightened. “About the same then.”
“We get all the fun.”
“You attract it, Conway, you always have. That’s what makes you so good at this,” he replied.
“Is there a printer I can use?” I asked, ignoring his comment.
“Yes,” he replied, pointing to a counter by the far wall and a printer. “It’s wireless. Your laptop should connect to our network automatically. The printer you want is Conference four.” Tierney scurried away, leaving me wondering if he’d handed me a compliment earlier or if he was just passing a comment.
I fired up the laptop and sent the short brief to the printer. Kurt walked over and waited for the paper to spew forth.
I checked my phone. Nothing. I expected – I didn’t know what I expected. I called home. The phone rang ten times before Mitch answered.
“Ellie Conway’s residence.”
“You’re there.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“‘You’re welcome’ doesn’t seem right. You okay?”
“Yeah, keep an eye on the news. I expect a bomb near the Newseum or in it.”
“That’s a ballsy move. Security is tight at that particular museum. You can’t even get to the store inside without going through scanners and having your bag X-rayed and searched.”
True. Security was tighter at that museum than the Navy Yard. Bizarre.
“All true. But in a world where terrorists hide fissile material in ventriloquist dummies …”
“Point taken. I’m staying in. Do you think you’ll make it home for dinner?”
“If you’re cooking … I will do my best.”
“Be safe, El.”
I smiled as I hung up. Home for dinner. I hoped so.
Caine called. I put him on speaker. “More bad news?” I asked.
“Trudenca turned up dead in the Anacostia River near the Sousa Bridge.”
That was a yes to the bad news question.
Kurt spoke, “Gunshot to the head?”
“Yes. ME thinks it was the same caliber round as the one that killed Cox. No gun recovered.”
“Potentially the same weapon?” Kurt asked, coming closer.
“Yes.”
“Someone’s cleaning up,” I said. “We’ll be in the office as soon as we’ve finished briefing the Directors.”
I disconnected. Messy didn’t even begin to describe the situation now. Someone was cleaning house. Made sense that it could be the person who hired Trudenca to take out my CI and me.
“Not loving this,” I mumbled under my breath and to no one in particular.
“You okay?” Kurt asked. He was back on the other side of the room.
I nodded. Okay. Yeah. Sure. Why not?
My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen. A Voxer message from Mitch. Voxer? I pressed play: Mitch telling me he loved me.
Pressing the talk button I held the phone in front of me and sent the same message back. Kurt pretended not to hear but the grin on his face was hard to miss. I ignored it. The Voxer thing spun around in my head until I felt dizzy. Voxer held possibilities I hadn’t considered before.
I lifted my phone and opened Voxer. GPS. Tapping the message Mitch sent showed the location he s
ent from on a map. He was at my place.
“Kurt, we can use this.”
“Voxer?” he asked.
“Yep. Let’s see if any of our new friends use Voxer.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking if I get them Voxing me then we know exactly where they are. It can’t hurt.” It didn’t hurt to have multiple ways to pinpoint someone’s location. Things were screwy with this case or these cases. Nope, case. I was sure what seemed like separate incidents were connected, somehow.
“Liking that.”
Finding Susan and Danni on Voxer was pretty easy. I sent them both text Voxer messages. They replied within minutes. I tapped the screen and revealed their location.
“They’re not in Fairfax,” I said to Kurt showing him the map on my phone. “Disobedient tourists.”
“Ah, crap. Pennsylvania Ave.”
I made a call to Kris to find out what was going on. Pacing up and down the room as the phone rang and rang. When I was about ready to give up he answered.
“Conway?”
“Got eyes on those women?”
“Not yet. We’re on our way.”
Dammit. I expected them in position by now.
“Give me a Sit-Rep A-sap when you have eyes on them.”
“Problem?”
“Potentially. Either the electronic surveillance is screwy or they’re not where they’re supposed to be.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
I hung up and stopped pacing.
“How far away are the Directors, do you think?” I asked Kurt. “We need to get into D.C.”
I heard a light cough and turned around to find our Director standing in the doorway.
“Give me the brief and go,” Cait O’Hare said. She walked to the table and placed her laptop bag on the polished wooden surface. “You have a brief?”
I nodded in an effort to stop my head shaking. Sort of. Yeah. Really, it was crap.
“Right here, ma’am,” Kurt said placing piles of papers on the desk. “Everything we know, and everything Ellie suspects.”
Cait picked the pile in front of her up and looked through them.
“This is it?” She looked at me.
“Yes. I think something is going to happen in D.C. now or very soon.”
That’s it and it’s mostly conjecture.
“Go. Keep in touch. Let me know what you need. I will carry on here and do the briefing.”
“Thank you,” I said and closed the laptop.
“Stay safe, Ellie.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kurt and I left Cait O’Hare to explain how my gut was responsible for stopping all leave and for putting everyone in D.C. on standby, and increasing security throughout the city. And how I was too late to prevent the Navy Yard. Not to mention why I demanded all the Federal Protection Service Explosive Dog Detection teams be at my disposal. It’s a lot to pin on a twingy gut. The overtime alone will severely dent everyone’s budgets.
In the parking lot, Kurt paused by the car door.
“Where?” he asked as I put his laptop in the back seat.
“The office.”
“Okay. You see anything, tell me.”
“Sure.”
Nah. Maybe. Dunno.
I called Sandra. “We got anything from the EDD sweeps?”
“Bomb squad has gone into Hard Rock Café. Dogs found a cell phone.”
“A cell phone?”
“That’s all I know so far. Waiting on the bomb squad report.”
“Keep me posted. How wide is the evacuation?”
“Limited.”
“Our building?”
“Not at this point.”
“Okay. We’re on our way back.”
Sandra’s words rumbled in my head as I dropped my phone into my lap. A cell phone? The dogs found explosives in a cell phone? That wasn’t going to bring down a building. It was an annoyance find. A decoy. Another distraction.
My phone was in my hand as the next thought surfaced. What about a cell phone bomb in the White House? Now that could cause pandemonium. I called Sandra back.
“I need a number for Charlie Prendergast.”
Kurt passed me a pen from his pocket as Sandra read out the number. I wrote it on my hand, thanked her and said goodbye.
Moments later I waited for Charlie to answer his phone.
“This is Charlie Prendergast.”
“Charlie, It’s SSA Ellie Conway, FBI.” I didn’t wait for him to acknowledge me. “There’s a situation unfolding in D.C. I need some information.”
“Sure. Fire away.”
Poor choice of words.
“Can you run three names, Trudi Welsh, Danielle Lane, and Susan Hollows? I want to know if any of them applied for a White House tour.” He typed. “They are foreign nationals from New Zealand.”
The typing continued.
“Not seeing any applications and they’re not on this month’s approved visitor list.”
“Try Caro Clancy, see if anything comes up.”
Typing.
“I have a Caroline Clancy but she’s a US citizen living in Virginia.”
“And she’s on an approved visitor list?”
“Yes.”
“Has she been on the tour?”
“Yes, two days ago.”
“Do you have surveillance tapes of visitors arriving or on the tour?”
“The rooms are monitored by cameras and yes, the grounds’ cameras capture visitors.”
“Can I see the video of the day Caroline Clancy visited?”
“Sure. Come to my office whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Charlie. See you later this afternoon.”
My gut twisted, turned, flopped and churned until I felt sick.
Sixteen
The Vision
Standing on Pennsylvania across the 6th Street intersection, I watched rubble spew into the street from the Newseum. Traffic in all directions slowed, some cars stopped, a truck hit a light pole on the other side of the road. The ground rumbled under my feet as walls collapsed and fell into the street. Dust, smoke, particles of building material billowed. I coughed into my elbow. Kurt grabbed my arm and pointed. People stumbled over rubble, wounded, bleeding, disorientated.
We’re here again.
Kurt’s backpack hung over one shoulder. I wondered if he’d added gas masks to his kit, as I heard sirens and horns. Flashing lights broke through the smoke. Two men ran past me in full SWAT gear. I turned as more spilled from a truck nearby. A voice under the crashing crumbling chaos spoke my name.
“Conway!” I shook the cobwebs from my head and turned to the voice.
Andrews. He ran toward me carrying two flak jackets and helmets.
“Put it on,” he said, thrusting the jacket into my arms and jamming the helmet on my head. “Do it up.” He peered past me to Kurt. “Here, put it on.”
Kurt nodded. He dropped his backpack and pulled the flak jacket over his head, fastening the Velcro at the sides. Andrews dropped a helmet on his head.
“Thanks.”
“You just get here?” Andrews asked.
“Yeah, we were walking toward the museum when it exploded,” Kurt replied. “I need to get to the wounded.”
One swift hand signal and Kurt had a two-man SWAT escort.
“Conway, with me,” Andrews said.
My head shook. “I’m going with Kurt. I just need to do something first. We have three people helping us, they could be in there.” I pointed to the rubble-spewing building. Another violent rumble toppled more of the building. “Kurt, wait?”
“Of course,” he replied.
I checked Voxer and audio messaged Susan. “Where are you?”
I waited. Hardly breathing. Breathing hurt anyway. Too much smoke, not enough oxygen. I needed a gas mask but didn’t want to feel trapped again.
A text message came back via Voxer. “In Fair Oaks Mall.” I tapped the screen. Nope, it came up as Capitol Hill. H
oly crap, it was getting worse.
I replied, “You’re not near the Newseum?”
This time she replied immediately, “We’re in the Redskin store.”
“All of you?”
“No, just me and Trudi.”
“Where’s Danni?”
“At the hotel.”
“Something just happened in D.C. Stay put.”
I pocketed my phone just as it rang again. It was Kris.
“Eyes on Hollows and Welsh – they’re in Fair Oaks Mall. Cannot see Lane.”
“Hollows told me Lane is back at the hotel.”
“Will confirm A-sap.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and this time my phone stayed silent as I shoved it into my pocket.
“Right, let’s get in there and do this thing,” I said to Kurt.
More wounded, confused people stumbled past us to a triage center that had popped up by the SWAT truck. Medical personal in scrubs and paramedics wearing flight suits directed the wounded. The only thing I felt grateful for at that moment was that everyone listened. We had people who knew what they were doing on the ground within minutes.
As we approached the building, emergency personal sprouted like mushrooms. High-Vis vests in all directions, both yellow and orange. People barked orders. Some yelled. The wounded we saw said nothing and made no noise. Shock. Disbelief. Horror. Terror.
I didn’t want to go into the building.
Suck it up, Princess. You’re doing this and dealing.
I kept pace with Kurt. Ahead of me a figure I recognized emerged and clambered with sure feet over unsteady hunks of stone, eventually jumping to a patch of clear ground. Blood trickled from Claude’s forehead. He wiped if off with impatience.
“If you’re going in, I’ll come with you,” Claude said. “But I don’t advise it.”
Kurt responded, “We need to. You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s nothing,” he replied. “Flesh wound.”
“How’d you get here so fast?” I asked. “Where’s the rest of Delta B?”
“I was already here and on my own.” He wiped away more blood. “I just wanted to be sure of their security measures.”
Kurt dropped his pack. He took out iodine spray, sterile wound pads and a sticky dressing. “Close your eyes. This will sting,” Kurt said as he sprayed the cut, wiped the area with the wound pad and then stuck a dressing over it.
“That’ll do for now,” he said, closing his pack and slinging it back on his shoulder.