by Rick Murcer
CHAPTER-7
Belle Simmons leaned back in her leather chair, hand rubbing her knee, staring out the window of her office in Quantico, wondering what the hell she’d got herself into.
She had always been good at what she did. Profiling, analyzing, and the rest of detective procedures had come easy for her. That was a huge reason why Josh Corner had hired her to work with the new BAU. And so far, that had been a heck of an experience. Especially getting the opportunity to see how Manny Williams did what he did, up close.
That old saying that nothing teaches like experience was invaluable regarding Manny’s methods.
None of that experience, however, qualified her, at least in her way of thinking, to lead a BAU. Sure, she’d run a department of detectives in DC and understood the politics of leadership. But the BAU?
“Oh, and you had to say yes, didn’t you, Belle Simmons?” she whispered. Now that the moment of excitement had died down, she realized what was ahead of her.
Turning back to her desk, she found the mirror in her top drawer and gazed at the ebony face that many said reminded them of Whitney Houston. “Damn, if I could sing like that, I’d be out of here,” she said out loud.
Or would she? As overwhelming as her overall situation was, she wouldn’t give up the triumphant feeling that electrified her from head to toe when they caught the bad guys. There couldn’t be anything like that, ever.
Her phone began playing a Motown hit by Stevie Wonder, and she immediately knew it was Josh.
About time, boy.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself, Belle. How’s it going?”
“I can’t believe you asked that. It’s total chaos. I have so many questions about re-staffing, payroll, benefits, and how to get new music piped into this place.”
He laughed. “That’s good. And I’ll answer as many as I can. You’ll have to get together with IT for the music thing. They’ll like your choices, I’m sure.”
There was a brief pause as she realized the pleasantries were over. Just like that.
“Belle, right now, there’s only one thing I need you to do for me.”
“Just one? You sure about that?”
“Yes, well . . . no, two things. You have to get your staff hired. You can’t do anything without that being done. And you can’t wait.”
“Yeah, you told me that before. I heard you then too. I’m working on it,” she answered, glancing at the stack of application files on the corner of her desk.
“Good. The load is easier to handle when you have help and share it.”
She sighed. “That’s true. I’ve interviewed six.”
“Any luck?”
“Well, there hasn’t been any Mannys in the group, but I like a few of them.”
“There’s not a lot of those out there.”
“I’ll take someone in the same ballpark.”
Belle waited for Josh to answer. He didn’t. Then she knew why.
“What’s up, Josh? What do you need?”
She envisioned him smiling when he said, “That’s why you were the right person to lead the BAU, Belle. I’ll get to it. I’m going to send you two names, and I want you to do deep background checks.”
“All phone records. All financial information, including deposits, withdrawals, paychecks, investments, and retirement accounts. All passport records, and domestic travel info as well. Any public records, right down to parking tickets and favorite restaurants. Hell, I want to know the size of their underwear and where they bought them.”
“Why don’t you have your new people do—” She stopped then switched the phone to other hand. “Oh. You don’t want them to know that you’re digging into these people, do you?”
“That’s correct. I don’t. You have all of the clearance levels you need. I want to particularly know what the NSA and CIA databases might show, including the secret and top-secret email servers too. There should also be information from the Sensitive Compartmental Information servers.”
Belle exhaled. “I have access to the SCI?”
“You do. It’s on the last few pages of the manual I gave you.”
“I haven’t gotten that far. I’ve been busy.”
“I know. But before you do any more interviews, I’d like files on these two.”
“C’mon, Josh. I’ve got a shitload of stuff to do here. We may already have our first case brewing in Los Angeles.”
“I get it. I do. But this is more important.”
“To who?”
“To all of us.”
She raised her hand in surrender. “Okay. Okay. Who are they?”
Her phone pinged. Josh had sent her an email.
“There they are. Let me know when you get what I need. And remember. This is between us.”
“Got it.”
He hung up.
She then thumbed open the email attachment.
Her eyes grew wide, and she almost dropped her phone while she read the two names on the screen.
Re-gripping her phone, she looked again, then began to shake her head. “What the hell is this?” she whispered. “Why them?”
Five minutes later, Belle rose from her chair, went to the safe, and pulled out the thick, heavy procedural manual Josh had given her and sat down at her desk.
He’d said this job wouldn’t be easy and she would do some things that didn’t exactly fit inside her moral compass, but in the end, they had to protect the people of this country.
Any and all that they did and would do was to protect the greater good of all Americans. This task didn’t seem to fall in line with that exactly. She also knew that not everything done behind a closed door was necessarily wrong.
Belle rolled her leather chair closer to her desk, logged into the first top-secret database on Josh’s list, and went to work.
CHAPTER-8
Manny stepped into the main cabin of the 650, did a slow half-turn and whistled. The jet was more than he expected. The craftsmanship and coordinated modern décor was beautiful, yet it rang of professionalism. There was also no doubt that the cabin was filled with all of the tools Josh had mentioned, and more.
On the far left of the compartment, a bank of four computers with twenty-five-inch screens were positioned for use individually or in networked tandem with each other, depending on the purpose of the operators. That arrangement gave a unique view of multitasking at its finest. Alex was going to be in heaven.
As was his usual mindset, Manny himself didn’t care all that much for technology, though he realized the usefulness of it. Yet, even he could envision a little fun playing with this display of new-world investigations.
That wasn’t all the jet offered.
On the back wall of the first passenger compartment was a sixty-inch, interactive, voice-activated LED screen system that would be used for posting questions and thoughts regarding any current case without the cumbersome process of writing on a dry-erase board. Perfect for brainstorming.
According to Josh, all anyone with proper clearance had to do was speak to the computer and it would post what was said, driven by the most advanced voice-recognition software on the planet. The clearance was set up before they took to the skies, allowing each member of the ACTU to use that feature right away.
He stepped in farther and shook his head slowly. This machine wasn’t done showing off.
The ten separate foldout bunks were strategically spaced around the cabin, and as far as he could tell, were situated with the finest mattresses known to mankind. There was also a full kitchen armed with two Keurigs, a regular coffee brewer, a double microwave, and a fully stocked refrigerator. He wondered if the fine taxpayers of this nation realized they had financed something resembling the Bat plane.
“Damn, Corner. You outdid yourself this time. This even has that new-car smell,” said Sophie as she sat in one of the beige leather seats around the conference table, wiggling for effect.
“Spared no expense, like I said. They want us sharp and rested whe
n we do what we do,” answered Josh.
“Mission accomplished,” said Alex.
Manny took Chloe’s bag and tossed both his and hers in the spacious locker area at the far end of the cabin. As he worked his way back, he hesitated and listened.
The excitement in each voice was obvious, but he felt it went far deeper than enthusiasm regarding the jet. It wasn’t just the prospect of the new flying machine that would make any billionaire green with envy. There was something pulsating between all of them that flowed with a more subtle feel, especially in Josh’s tone.
Manny understood.
No matter what the dark side of human nature had shown them over the years, and that had been plenty, the prospect of kicking psycho ass and taking names later held a draw that defied explanation for people like them. Like him.
Recalling part of the conversation he and Haley Rose had shared, he was reminded again that sometimes it was a good thing to embrace how God made you and use it. That seemed right, for now, for him.
“Before we take off, I want everyone to get settled around the table for a few minutes,” said Josh. “We didn’t really talk about all of the data sources and specifics last night.”
“I thought you were pretty comprehensive,” said Chloe, settling in beside Manny. “I think thirteen searchable federal and private databases is far better than the six we had five years ago.”
“That’s true. I was biased on what I had time to share. But there’s always more. We’ve got some new feeds that include imaging and some hot-spot websites that send quick notifications to our alert analysts at HQ when those sites are accessed.”
“You mean like who accesses the FBI or CIA sites, for instance?” asked Manny.
“Yes. But I want to concentrate on the six people we found in the warehouse first and any known associates, and yes, even Detective Brooks. Like I said, we’ll get that info when we need it. The other thing this unit can’t ignore is the general public, when people access info on how to make a nuke or some kind of dirty bomb or even chemical warfare. Hell, we even have to pay attention to who becomes interested in infamous domestic terrorists.”
“Really? There’s a site for that stuff?” asked Alex.
“Damn boy. Get with the program. There’s a site for everything,” said Sophie.
“No denying that,” said Josh.
Josh turned back to Manny. “I know you didn’t go straight to sleep last night after we left your house. You never do.”
Chloe reached over and kissed Manny. “No, I can vouch that he didn’t, don’t you know.”
The group’s loud laugh was led by Braxton and good to hear, even though it was at Manny’s expense, sort of.
“Ahh. We can leave that part out, Chloe,” said Manny.
“I see. Is it because it makes those cheeks blush a wee bit?” she teased, that electric look in her green eyes as bright as ever.
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I doubt that’s what we all want to discuss right now.”
“True, but maybe over a girls-only lunch,” said Barb.
“I have to admit, I’d like to be invited to that one,” said Josh, grinning. “But let’s see if I was right regarding our job and what Manny did, ahh, later in the night.”
“Deal. I’m guilty as charged. I just wanted to become familiar with what domestic terrorism is and who does it and why and how access to some of those databases will help us.”
“Keep it going, Williams,” said Sophie.
“How about you keep it going? Like you said, we did talk a few times last night,” said Manny.
“Yeah well, I’m not sleeping a ton these days. Okay, I will. When we met as a group yesterday, Josh said, about fifty times, that we need to find out if the murders in Louisiana really mean something is going down soon against our government or if this was some kind of revenge shooting or some other dumb-shit thing.”
“Dumb-shit thing? Good terminology,” said Alex.
“You know what I mean, heifer. Anyway, I decided to profile shootings like this in a few of the criminal databases that Josh mentioned. Including the CIA’s, especially their Information Operations Center Intel, the FBI’s, and even the Office of Homeland Security’s.”
Manny smiled on the inside as Sophie took another long draw from her coffee. The death of her husband was on the back burner for the moment. Her concentration on the beginning of this new unit was a suitable diversion. More than suitable. Negative emotion, any negative emotion, reaches a critical limit before it begins to exact its toll on one’s sanity. Sophie was getting a reprieve from those late-night thoughts and tears. He’d walked that mile and knew how good it was to move away from them.
“What did you find?” asked Barb.
“Just what Josh has said and the reason Manny has his underwear in a little bit of a bunch. Circumstances like those usually meant a product deal gone south. Like drugs or arms deals. A couple of times, they were gang related.”
“She did better in matching those up than I did. She’s way ahead of me in the cyber arena,” said Manny.
“Don’t forget it either,” said Sophie.
“Like you’d let him,” said Alex. “But keep going, Manny. The fog is starting to lift for me.”
“I ain’t going to touch that one,” said Sophie.
“Bite me.”
“Oh, that’s never going to happen, so let Manny finish. Then you can get your doughy ass to work.”
Alex bit his lip and then pointed to Manny. “Do continue. I’ll straighten this wench out later.”
“Thank you both. Not much to finish, in my mind. The murders dictate an unusual set of circumstances and fit into what we should be checking into. But I still don’t like the idea of not having files to read on our victims.”
Just then, the co-pilot, a tall woman with bright, brown eyes and an angular face emerged from the cockpit.
“We’ll be taking off in about six minutes, so please get yourselves ready,” she said.
“Will do,” said Josh.
She nodded and then returned to the front of the jet.
“You heard the woman, Williams,” said Josh, turning in his direction.
“Shouldn’t take that long.”
“Sophie and I ransacked the FBI’s Investigative Data Warehouse, and the CIA’s IOC, for more history. Whether or not this is a case for us, I wanted to understand more on how our targets communicate.”
“That makes sense,” said Josh. “Please share.”
Manny scanned the group slowly, capturing everyone’s undivided attention.
Time to do what we do.
“Here’s the question: if you wanted to keep what you were planning to do away from anyone except your own people, how would you communicate?”
“Obviously not cell phones or email. Too easily traced and hacked,” said Josh.
“Not even the burner phones are immune to that kind of search,” said Sophie.
“True. Particularly given the FBI’s software development. So for the sake of this conversation, let’s eliminate those two possibilities,” said Manny.
“Snail mail. But that’s slow and not effective for immediate communication, specifically when the shite begins to hit the fan,” said Chloe.
Manny nodded. “I wouldn’t use that as a primary source either.”
“What about go-betweens?” asked Barb “It would be safe, and only the people involved in any plan would have knowledge of what’s going to happen. Maybe a bit slow, but a plane can get from one end of this country to the other in four to five hours. Not totally efficient, but it would work. I’ve seen it.”
“The trouble with that is airport security checkpoints and cameras. If I were trying to stay invisible and my profile low, that could be an issue. I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Good point,” said Barb.
The others had looks of concentration on their faces. All except Braxton, who had remained silent for most of the last fifteen minutes. He was wearing that cockeyed smile that reminded
Manny of the first time they’d met in Puerto Rico.
“Braxton? Do you have a thought?”
“We tried all of dis stuff when I worked for dat drug lord, Fogerty. None of dat was foolproof, so we didn’t really try to fight it, mon.”
“What does that mean?”
Then, in the blink of an eye, he understood where Braxton was going.
“Wait. You hid in plain sight.”
“We did dat.”
“How in the hell did you do that?” asked Sophie.
“I tink Agent Williams can explain it.”
“I’ll try. I read a DEA report on how they brought down one of the Columbian cartels.”
“Good God, I can’t believe some of the crap you read,” said Sophie, shaking her head.
“Oh it’s true,” said Chloe. “I’d be snoring in five.”
“Hey, you never know what might come in handy,” he said. “At any rate, the cartels were feeling the pressure from every Caribbean government as well as the United States on their backs. But the folks feeling the most pressure were the government officials and high-ranking cops on the take. As investigations grew more intense, those people knew they were in deep.”
“Dat is good so far, Agent. Keep after it,” said Braxton, his smile wider than before.
“The problem was that no one could find a communication method between the officials suspected of being dirty and the cartel contacts. It wasn’t like they were talking via email. No evidence means no case.”
“That would have been stupid. It would have only taken a few hours to bust their asses doing that,” said Alex.
“True. But as the suspect list grew, there was an increased communication pattern among those thought to be on the take.”
“Okay, but those suspects still weren’t talking about drug trafficking, right?” asked Sophie.
“They weren’t. The emails looked innocent enough, especially if they were asking about budgets or tourism, or if they were condemning the drug trade,” said Manny.
“Code?” asked Josh looking at Braxton.
“Let da good mon finish. He be hittin’ a homer so far.”