“Yes. They are to a CIA office in the Middle East.”
He stared at her for a minute and then blew out a breath. He turned toward his computer screen, and he let out a low whistle. “There’s a lot of activity for that day.”
“Start at the first call that happened after ten that morning,” Kelsey instructed. “We’ll go from there.”
* * *
Over and over, Noah played through his mind how he was going to act when he saw Kelsey again. He waffled between wanting to demand an explanation of who the guy was who had picked her up at her house last night and trying to pretend it never happened.
Before he could come to terms with that problem though, he had to face her as Kelly, knowing that any conversation about Kelsey would have to wait until they were away from work. Noah could feel his neck and shoulders stiffening as he passed through security and approached the taskforce offices.
Just as he had known last night that Kelsey was waiting for him in his house, this morning he recognized that she was missing. A quick sweep of the room revealed that everyone else had already arrived, and he didn’t have to look at his watch to prove that she was late. He had cleared it with Cullen the night before to come in late so he could check on Devin this morning.
Devin was holding steady, which was good, according to the doctors. Unfortunately, even in the best of circumstances, he wasn’t likely to communicate any of his findings for at least another day or two.
“Noah, I was hoping you would make it in time,” Ted said as soon as he noticed him enter the room.
“In time for what?”
“Our navy gunrunner called into the NCIS hotline last night and wants a deal in exchange for providing us information.”
“Are you talking about the suspect down at Norfolk who’s been stealing weapons?”
“That’s right. We know some of the weapons have ended up in Abolstan, but he says he has knowledge he wants to share.” Ted pulled his service weapon out of his top desk drawer and holstered it in the back of his waistband.
“I thought he didn’t know you were on to him.”
Ted paused, and his eyes met Noah’s. “He didn’t.”
“This should be interesting.” Noah stepped toward the door.
“Definitely,” Ted agreed. “Cullen has a meeting at headquarters in a little while, so he said to make sure we bring back the interview tapes for him to see.”
“What about Kelly?” The question popped out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.” He lowered his voice and glanced back toward where Cullen was sitting at his desk talking on the phone. “It’s kind of weird that Cullen didn’t seem worried when she didn’t show up this morning.”
Noah’s suspicions sharpened, and he wondered once more if perhaps Kelsey held more authority in this taskforce than he’d first assumed. Eager to change the subject, he asked, “Where exactly is your suspect?”
“He was brought here to Quantico.” Ted led the way out to his car and drove Noah to another part of the base where Rodney Teasdale was being held in an interrogation room.
The seaman rose and stood at attention as soon as Ted and Noah entered. His light-brown hair was cut short, and tension vibrated from the man despite his lack of motion. Noah noted that his uniform was a bit wrinkled, probably from driving from Norfolk to northern Virginia.
“Have a seat, seaman.” Ted lowered himself into the chair across the table from him and slapped a file onto the table. “You said you have information for us.”
“I’ll trade what I know for a deal.”
“We already know that you’ve been selling off weapons,” Ted announced. “We also know those weapons are ending up in Abolstan.”
Rodney stiffened. He nervously looked from Ted to Noah and shook his head. “That’s why I called. They aren’t all going overseas anymore.”
“Explain,” Ted demanded.
“I want a deal,” he insisted again, but this time his voice wavered.
“Rodney, you’ve been smuggling weapons off a US military base and putting them straight into the hands of terrorists. We already have enough evidence to put you away for life.”
His face paled. “I wasn’t working with terrorists.”
Ted sent Noah a silent signal for him to step in. Leaning casually against the wall, Noah shrugged. “Whether you knew it or not, you were definitely working with terrorists.”
Ted shifted in his seat, and his tone was placating. “Give us what you’ve got. We’ll make sure the judge knows you cooperated.”
He took several shallow breaths, his eyes darting to where Noah stood. His body still tense, he breathed deeply, rested his forearms against the table, and leaned forward. “When I got pulled into this, I was told that the weapons were being used in some sort of civil war overseas. None of them were ever supposed to be used against our military or Americans.”
Noah blinked twice, wondering if this guy could really have been gullible enough to believe such promises.
“Something changed?” Ted prompted.
He nodded vehemently. “Before, every time I diverted weapons, they were taken down to the harbor and loaded on a boat headed for the Caribbean.”
“Explain the process of how the weapons were getting off of the base to Abolstan.”
“All I know is that I was paid to get them off the base. Then I took them to the harbor, where someone was waiting for me. Sometimes it was a sailboat. Other times it was this big yacht.”
“Personal vessels?”
“Yeah. I was told they were taken by boat to somewhere in the Caribbean and then flown by cargo plane to Abolstan.”
“You said something changed.”
Apprehension shone in his eyes. “About a year ago, things changed, and I started handing the weapons off at a warehouse in Hampton instead of at the harbor. After a couple of times, I noticed that most of the weapons were still there. No one had moved any of them.”
“Did anyone say why?”
Now fear replaced the apprehension. “I asked. The guy in charge, Ruben Medrano, said I wasn’t being paid to ask questions and I’d better keep my mouth shut or he’d kill me.”
“Where’s the warehouse?” Noah asked.
Rodney rattled off an address. “But I don’t think they’re still using it. Right after I asked about the change in the delivery location, Medrano stopped having me bring the weapons to them. Instead, they started sending someone on base to meet me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He always showed up in a cargo truck, and according to his uniform, he was a lieutenant.”
“Describe him.”
“Older than me, maybe thirty. He wore glasses, and his hair was short, dark brown I think.” He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure because he always wore a hat.”
“How do you know the weapons aren’t still shipping overseas?”
“A few days ago I had to leave base right after I handed off several boxes of weapons.” He looked down, embarrassed. “I had a dentist appointment.”
“And?” Ted prompted.
“I saw the guy I was telling you about head toward 264, going west. That didn’t make any sense to me since they had always stored the weapons near the water, where it was easiest to smuggle them out of the country.”
“So you saw this guy heading inland. What did you do?”
“I followed him.” He swallowed hard. “All the way to Richmond.”
“Richmond?”
“It looked like these guys had taken over a whole storage facility. There were people all over the place, trucks coming and going. And security. Armed guards at the entrance like you’d see at a prison or something.”
“Do you have an address?”
He nodded, accepting the piece of paper and pen Ted slid across the table to him. When he finished, he pushed it back, anxiety humming through him. “What happens now?”
“For now, we’ll keep you in protec
tive custody while we check out your story. After that, it will be for the judge to decide.”
Chapter 25
Kelsey stepped off the plane in Tel Aviv, Israel. Or rather, she used her crutches to move her from the plane into the airport. This trip had been impulsive and, in her mind, completely necessary. Because of her injury, she had packed a backpack instead of a traditional suitcase. It rested heavily on her shoulders now.
Kelsey barely noticed the mixture of languages in the airport, but she instinctively translated what she could, always alert for something out of place. When she emerged outside, she spotted her contact standing beside a taxicab that looked just like the others lined up beside it. She and Patrick had worked together before, and Kelsey knew him to be good at his job.
She let her gaze sweep over him to take in the rest of the scene. A group of modernly dressed Israeli teenagers worked their way past a Pakistani woman and then stopped to wait beside a group of Arab businessmen.
Except for the variety of cultures present and the signage written in Hebrew, Arabic, and English, the airport curbside looked very much like many others she had visited in the United States. Cars and vans idled in the pickup lanes while passengers searched for their rides. With some effort, she relaxed her posture and slowly moved forward.
Patrick moved from where he had been standing and climbed behind the wheel of his vehicle. Then he pulled forward to meet her at the curb.
Kelsey slid into the vehicle, encumbered by the crutches. Then she rattled off an address. They drove for several minutes before her driver spoke in a hushed voice.
“It’s too risky for you to be here,” Patrick said tensely.
“It’s too risky for me not to be here,” Kelsey countered. “If we don’t get to Porterfield before Salman does, we lose a huge opportunity to find out what he’s up to.”
“I still can’t believe Marty could be involved.”
“I identified his voice myself.” Kelsey shifted to look through the back window to make sure they weren’t being followed. “Do you know where he is now?”
“He was at work today, and he left to go home at the usual time.”
“Who is our backup?”
“Will Latham.” He looked in the rearview mirror, and their eyes met. “If Marty really is involved, there’s no guarantee he’ll come quietly.”
“I know.” Kelsey sighed. “And yes, I know that I’m not much use to you since I’m injured.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Simple front door. He’ll get a call in five minutes to tell him that a car is coming for him to bring him to a meeting. That will be you.”
He nodded, clearly already picturing the operation in his mind. “Latham takes the back, and you cover me from the car?”
“Exactly. I assume you have a weapon for me.”
“It’s under the passenger seat.”
Kelsey leaned over and pulled the pistol from beneath the front passenger seat. She inspected the weapon and took inventory on the ammunition that accompanied it.
Patrick parked on a side road a few blocks from Marty’s home. A minute later, Will pulled up behind them. Casually and cautiously, Will climbed out of his car and then slid into the backseat beside Kelsey.
“Are you sure about your intel on this one?” Will asked.
“I wouldn’t have gotten on a plane in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” Kelsey said in a serious voice.“Hopefully Marty will come without a struggle, and he’ll give us the information we’re looking for.”
They discussed the specifics for a moment, and then Patrick started the car. He dropped Will off a block early so he could climb up the fire escape and cover the only escape route besides the front door.
The apartment complex had uniquely rounded corners and balconies that radiated with the charm common in the older section of the city. Kelsey knew Marty Porterfield’s apartment was on the fifth floor, and she could identify the lights illuminating what she believed was his kitchen window.
After waiting the five minutes Will needed to get into position, Kelsey rolled down her car window and shoved a clip into her weapon. “Are you ready?”
Patrick checked his own weapon before holstering it in the front of his waistband. Then he said, “Hopefully I’ll see you in a few minutes with Marty.”
Kelsey watched him reach for the door handle, and a streak of panic shot through her. “Wait. What’s our all-clear signal?”
Patrick smirked at her. “If I walk out with Marty, that’s a pretty good indication that everything’s okay.”
Kelsey started to back down, fully aware that Patrick had significantly more experience in this type of operation than she did. Still, she knew protocol existed for a reason and forced herself to push the issue. “Humor me. I want a signal.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll scratch my left ear.”
“Okay.” Kelsey shifted closer to the window and laid her weapon across her lap, her heart beating rapidly.
She watched him disappear into the apartment building. Three minutes later, she saw movement in front of Marty’s kitchen window.
Minutes stretched out uncomfortably, and Kelsey flexed her hand on her weapon. She tried to imagine what was going on inside that apartment, hating the fact that she wasn’t physically capable of being on the frontline tonight. Not that she really had the experience to be on the frontline, but she liked to think that her training had prepared her adequately.
After what seemed like forever, the apartment door opened and Patrick emerged with Marty. They walked side by side, moving slower than what Kelsey would have expected.
Kelsey watched for the all-clear signal, annoyed when Patrick didn’t give it. Could he have forgotten?
They passed near a streetlight, and Kelsey straightened in her seat. The two men walked close together, close enough that she couldn’t see if either of them was holding a weapon.
Her eyes searched Patrick’s face for any clues, but he stared straight ahead, his expression flat and unreadable.
Kelsey’s heartbeat picked up speed, and her mind captured a picture of the scene in front of her. Immediately, she analyzed the image, and her breath caught.
Marty was playing her. Patrick wasn’t bringing him out to see her. Marty was using him to get close to her! She saw Marty’s right arm flex, and Kelsey whipped her gun up and aimed through the window.
The movement was enough to create a minor distraction to signal to Patrick that she understood the danger. He jerked back, apparently trying to get out of Marty’s line of fire. That was all Kelsey needed to see. Her heart in her throat, she squeezed the trigger, aiming for Marty’s right shoulder. She surprised herself when her bullet hit its mark and Marty’s body jerked back, the weapon in his hand dropping to the ground.
“Stay right there!” Kelsey yelled out in English, her weapon still trained on Marty, who was now pressing his left hand against his right shoulder.
Patrick rushed forward and scooped up Marty’s gun. He grabbed the older man by his good arm and pulled him forward.
“Are you hurt?” Kelsey asked Patrick.
He shook his head, but there was urgency in his voice when he spoke. “He was ready for us. We need to get out of here in case he called for help from his friends.”
“Where’s Latham?” Kelsey asked just as Will raced around the corner of the building and sprinted toward them.
“Is everyone okay?” Will panted.
“We are now.” Patrick pointed toward Marty. “He got the jump on me, but Kelly put a bullet in his shoulder.”
“I’ll call our contact with Mossad to see if they can get us secure medical support. If we take him to the hospital, it will be too easy for him to disappear.”
“I still can’t believe it was you,” Kelsey accused Marty. Hurt, betrayal, and disgust bubbled up inside her. Her memory flashed back to the moment before Gregory was killed, the instant he looked at her, determined to protect her identity. She slid over in her seat to
make room for Marty and then added, “How could you betray your country like this? For money?”
Marty didn’t respond, instead staring into the distance as Patrick secured his hands and shoved his head down to push him into the car.
Kelsey reached over, locked the door, and belted Marty into his seat so he wouldn’t have an easy escape route. Something in Marty’s indifference pushed her to speak to him once more. “You were responsible for Gregory’s death, but at least he died a hero. You, on the other hand, will die a traitor, someone not worthy for anything beyond an eight-by-eight cell.”
Marty flinched at that but still didn’t speak.
Patrick hurried around to the driver’s side and quickly started the car. He slammed the car into gear the moment Will took his seat beside him.
The squeal of tires sounded in the quiet neighborhood, and Kelsey looked out the window at the white sedan heading straight for them. “The car on your left. Watch out!”
“Get down!” Will yelled in response to the gun barrel that poked out of the window.
Kelsey ducked her head behind the seat, Marty sliding down as low as he could manage. The rat a tat tat of gunfire clanged against the rear bumper, and Patrick gunned the engine in an attempt to pick up speed.
Kelsey ducked down again just as another round of gunfire shattered the rear window. “It must be Salman’s men.”
“Porterfield must have tipped them off.” Patrick jerked the wheel, the car fishtailing wildly when they turned the corner.
Will pulled his weapon free and fired off a couple of quick shots, causing their pursuers to veer off the road and narrowly miss the corner of a building. “I’ll call the cops to see if we can get some backup.”
Kelsey noticed a change in Marty’s expression, just a brief instant of satisfaction. Or perhaps it was hope. “No,” Kelsey interrupted him. “Patrick, you’re going to have to lose them in the city. And we need to switch cars.”
“We can double back and get mine,” Will suggested.
“We can’t chance it.” Kelsey kept her eyes on Marty when she added, “Our friend here had to know we were coming for him to get the jump on Patrick. That means he was either tracking your cars or your cell phones.”
Deep Cover Page 16