by Jay Klages
Kade nodded. About fucking time.
“So we’re asking all our resources,” Caldwell continued, “what larger attack threat could be imminent? And so we pose that question to all of you in this room as well.” Caldwell looked at Morris, who was still standing next to the door.
Morris nodded. “Before Constantino died in the hospital, I tried to dig into that question and got a troubling answer. He said it had already begun. And he said it was impossible to stop. Impossible to stop what? Do they have a pile of SA-7s and Owens is planning on using them around the country?”
“From what we already know,” Singleton said, “and what Flash told us, they’ve trained their militia for an attack, not just defense. They just used an SA-7 on one of our helicopters to defend their headquarters against a perceived threat. So it seems they’ll use the missiles opportunistically or in defense, but missiles aren’t the thrust of their attack plan.”
“General terror among the American public doesn’t appear to be the goal,” Norcross said. “They’re looking at a government target, like government buildings. I would get all federal buildings on alert.”
Morris looked at Kade. “You agree?”
“I saw an attack training template. I think we’re talking multiple targets. So, yeah, government buildings would be likely. They fed me a diet of antigovernment propaganda daily. I imagine it would’ve only gotten more radical the longer I stayed. I think you can rule out military bases. Everything I heard was supportive of the military.”
“So what kind of attack force are we looking at?” Morris asked.
“I tallied up the manpower while Flash was talking,” Lerner said. “Confirmed, they’ve got a few hundred of these Sentries, which sound like well-trained small-unit leaders. Then there are over two hundred Guardians, graduates of their elite program, involved with some kind of government service or working at AgriteX. Another three hundred–plus people are graduates of a so-called political action program. And then they have a number of standard employees.”
“You’re not counting the prisoner-soldiers I talked about,” Kade said. “They’re a threat.”
“If we’re counting them,” Morris said, “we probably don’t have too much to worry about. From watching the situation at AgriteX from the Shadowhawks, it looks like someone released the prisoners at the Lost Lake Forest Camp, and they fought with the cartel gangs who attacked AgriteX. Both sides look like they got chewed up pretty bad. Seems like it would be hard to reconstitute a force to attack anything. We’re working with Oregon State Police right now on rounding up the prisoners.”
“So the Sonora cartel messed up the Chapter’s attack before it got started,” Caldwell said. “And now, worst case, we have a few hundred well-trained Chapter operatives who could lead various sleeper cells and hit targets. Multiple attacks, more like Oklahoma City. But no evidence that the Chapter has WMDs.”
“No, the worst case is the Chapter has a much larger force,” Singleton interjected. She had been quietly punching figures into her computer. “Several thousand by my quick-and-dirty math.”
Morris gestured “hold on” with his hand.
“Thousands? How could they have anywhere near that?”
“Flash told us AgriteX and Lost Lake Forest Camp had some sort of partnership,” Singleton said. “The inmates work on AgriteX-contracted projects, and it seemed like the AgriteX employees or Sentries worked at LLFC as inmate mentors.”
“Okay,” Morris said.
Singleton continued. “I asked Financial Crimes to check out that business structure for us. Turns out LLFC is one of one hundred ninety-one minimum-security prisons managed by Correctional Enterprises Corporation, or C-E-C, which is owned by Correctional Enterprises Group, or C-E-G. CEG is a holding company registered in Belize that also owns forty-nine percent of AgriteX, so there is an ownership relationship. CEG is then owned by a private-interest foundation registered in Panama.”
“One hundred ninety-one prisons?” Caldwell asked in disbelief.
“Yes, one hundred ninety-one privately owned facilities nationwide,” Singleton said. “Between a hundred fifty to two hundred fifty inmates at each.”
“This is a national threat,” Morris said.
“That’s a damn sleeper army,” Caldwell said.
“LLFC must be like a beta site,” Kade said. “It’s located right next to AgriteX and they’ve been spending months doing all of this training—training all of these other sites. Maybe years.”
Norcross asked, “How could they keep discipline, silence, in a group of prisoners like this? It’s hard enough in a small sleeper cell.”
“You don’t get it,” Kade said. “They’re Zulus. It’s more than a little indoctrination. It’s a protocol, or program. They’re optimized for obedience and security.”
Singleton said, “The transcript of our interview with Wade Rooker, the guy who escaped from the Chapter, indicated that when you’re at the bottom of the organization, you’re under constant surveillance and threatened. Or as he said, ‘They’re inside your head.’”
“Exactly,” Kade said.
Morris waved his hand. “Okay, so let’s assume a federal building target. Any way to prioritize locations?”
Kade shook his head. “Wait a sec. Doing multiple Oklahoma City–style attacks would kill thousands of low-level civilians. That doesn’t sound like Owens.”
“Why not? He’s a dying megalomaniac,” Norcross said. “He doesn’t care about people.”
“Nah, not quite,” Kade said. “Yeah, he thinks he’s invincible. Supremely confident, possibly delusional. But he knows he’s on his way out. That changed things. Now he wants to make sure he takes his enemies with him. Mamook sollecks.”
“What?” Caldwell asked.
“It’s Chinook,” Kade said. “It means ‘to make anger.’ To make war against those you’re angry with. He’s not angry at your regular federal building employees.”
“Who’s he angry with?” Morris asked.
“The buck stops at the top,” Kade said. “It’s got to be the president or Congress. Owens isn’t antiwar, even though he’s angry at American abuse of power. It’s about how he sees America’s approach to war. Soldiers are pawns in a broken system. The government isn’t decisive or effective. It’s filled with cowards who don’t use troops carefully, and when troops are deployed, they’re hamstrung. Technology isn’t benefitting soldiers on the ground. Veterans aren’t taken care of.”
Caldwell asked, “If they have prisoner-militia members at all these other facilities, how do they coordinate and move this army?”
“Buses,” Kade said. “I mentioned that in the debrief I saw a couple of them at LLFC that were retrofitted to carry weapons and ammo. So they load these buses up for a basic but massive ground attack. Stealth and surprise. That sounds like Marshall’s style to me.”
“A fleet of buses wouldn’t be a great way to go after the president,” Singleton said. “Congress would be more likely.”
Lerner said, “I have Owens’s statement ‘we need to clean house’ from my debriefing notes. Is it too simple to think he’s going after the House?”
Caldwell turned toward the phone “That’s it. He means it literally. My God, he’s going after Congress.”
Kade could start to visualize it. “Yeah, thousands of armed soldiers bused in to attack the Capitol. That seems unbelievable . . . it would overwhelm the Capitol Police. If Marshall has that kind of manpower at his disposal, I think he’d order it. He hates Congress that bad. He said Congress has our soldiers’ blood on its hands.”
“It’s plausible,” Caldwell said. “But they’d have to position these buses within striking distance.”
Morris didn’t look convinced. “That’s a long drive from western U.S. facilities. Buses would have to be on the road for days. Seems like it would attract a lot of attention.”
“We need to set up checkpoints into the District for bus traffic,” Caldwell said. “And have our assets loo
king for groups of buses and bus movement.”
“The director should also task the National Counterterrorism Center with surveillance on the current activity inside and around as many CEC prisons as possible,” Kade said.
“What are you thinking?” Caldwell said.
“It’s almost one in the morning. It’s lights-out for any of these prisons. If the lights are on, and prisoners are up and about, that’s a big red flag something’s going on right now. There are plenty of video assets that could be exploited quickly—surveillance systems, computer web cams, you name it.”
Caldwell nodded. “Okay. Rob, let’s go make the update call. Thank you, everyone.”
“Hold on,” Singleton said, looking at her laptop computer screen. “I looked it up while we were sitting here. Congress is in recess, now through July fifth. So the Chapter must be targeting the president or something else.”
The room was silent, and then all of a sudden Kade stood up.
“No, Carla, that’s it.”
He’s hitting them at home.
At night.
CHAPTER 62
Saturday, June 29
10:01 p.m. (PDT)
Portland, Oregon
Fox Five News’s Amy Michalek reported it first. “We have breaking news tonight from Tillamook County. An FBI helicopter is downed in the Tillamook State Forest by armed gang members backed by the Sonora drug cartel. And a Tillamook County company gets caught in the crossfire.
“Now the details. Confidential sources have reported to Fox Five that an FBI and DEA operation against Oeste-13 gang members, who are supported by the Sonora drug cartel, culminated in a battle earlier this evening at about eight o’clock. The sound of gunfire and explosions were reported for several hours in the Tillamook State Forest by a hiker in the area. Fox Five was not permitted to fly Chopper Five into the airspace surrounding the reported operation.
“The conflict has reportedly spread to the private land of the AgriteX Corporation, an agricultural technology company located near Alderville. Reports of multiple fatalities of gang members and AgriteX employees have been confirmed by Oregon State Police sources. There are also unconfirmed reports of several federal agent deaths during the operation.
“Fox Five has also received a recorded video statement from AgriteX CEO Marshall Owens. Owens appears to have been very aware of the growing threat of gang violence to his business and the community.”
Owens’s face appeared on screen above the caption “Statement by Marshall Owens, CEO, AgriteX Corporation.”
“The Sonora Cartel has declared war on our citizens, and no one in Washington seems to care about defending America. The cartel has repeatedly encroached upon our land and tree farms in an attempt to cultivate and harvest marijuana to sell in America. This has put our employees and the citizens of our local communities in danger. We’ve repeatedly asked state and federal authorities for assistance, but they have ignored us. Today, we said enough is enough. We spent many months training our employees to defend themselves against these gang members, and there’s a good chance that a number of us may get hurt in expelling them. But we have to take a stand on our land, and we are taking that stand today.”
Amy Michalek’s face returned to the screen. “Obviously this is a very important developing story, and we will bring you continuing updates as we learn more.”
CHAPTER 63
Saturday, June 29
10:21 p.m. (PDT)
FBI field office, Portland, Oregon
The FBI Strategic Information and Operations Center (SOIC) set up two colocated units inside FBI headquarters, SOIC-4 and SOIC-5, to coordinate communications between the Portland field office, the NCTC, and the White House Situation Room. SOIC-4 picked up the current FBI Criminal Investigative Division’s operations in the vicinity of AgriteX, and SOIC-5 was assigned as the operational hub for the Counterterrorism Division’s efforts to thwart the Chapter’s presumed attack.
Agent Sean Lockwood, in SOIC-5, was connected via phone to the Portland field office briefing room, and another SOIC-5 connection went to the field office War Room in sub-basement two.
The seats around the briefing room’s conference table had shuffled between breaks as some new faces had rotated in and out. Kade now sat between Norcross and Singleton, who both seemed concerned about how he was holding up. Morris had returned for a few minutes while Caldwell remained down in the War Room. Lerner was still on the phone making occasional comments. Another counterterrorism analyst, Raj Badesha, had been added to the group in the briefing room and sat next to Greg Belmont.
“Will killing Owens stop the attack?” Morris asked. “Assuming this is a simultaneous attack on our Congress members’ homes?”
“It’s not clear if Marshall Owens is still in charge or even alive, right?” Lockwood asked.
“It’s not,” Morris said.
“There was a big explosion at the headquarters we observed,” Lockwood said. “That wasn’t from any ground operation?”
“No, and we didn’t fire any Shadowhawk munitions,” Morris said. “They wouldn’t have done that kind of damage anyway. A good portion of the building is demolished.”
“We haven’t picked up Owens in any two-way radio or phone chatter,” Lockwood said. “We’re now dealing with monitoring encrypted comms, so we can’t review traffic in real time.”
“So Pierce would be in charge with Owens gone?” Norcross asked.
“Yeah,” Kade said.
The room was silent for a few collective breaths. Then Kade said, “I think it’s too late to cut off the head of the snake and expect this thing to stop. Maybe you could get Marshall or Pierce to order the attack called off, but that sounds like a long shot.”
Belmont pulled off his headphones and set them on the desk. “Check this out.” He pulled up some new video on the wall screen. There was a recorded statement from Owens that the news networks were now showing. Everyone in the room watched it.
“He’s blaming the cartels,” Badesha said.
“And the authorities for not responding,” Kade added.
“It’s a complete lie . . . designed to sound convincing,” Singleton said.
Morris grumbled a few cuss words.
Lockwood said, “We’re now getting a directive to acquire targeting information on their leadership. Do we have any idea where Pierce is?”
“No,” Morris said.
Kade said, “The other Associates like me were supposedly being moved to either Nevada or Montana, so Pierce could be on the road or in a number of different states.”
“Can’t you try and pick up his communications like you’re doing for Owens?” Morris asked.
“We have no known voiceprint for Pierce,” Lockwood said.
“Damn,” Morris said.
“No, we do have a voiceprint,” Belmont said. “Flash recorded Pierce talking during what he described as an execution.” He clicked on a thumbnail picture to enlarge it on the screen, showing Carol Ries strapped into the Verax chair and Pierce standing beside her.
“Okay, can you get that audio to us now?” Lockwood asked.
“Yeah, the file will be coming in a few seconds,” Belmont said.
“Good, good,” Morris said.
Kade shook his head. It’s progress, but we’re going to run out of time.
CHAPTER 64
Saturday, June 29
11:00 p.m. (PDT)
Gale’s Creek, Oregon
In the small campground area, Pierce keyed GREEN LIGHT into the cell phone Owens had provided him and hit “Send to All.” The final chance to abort the mission had passed. The teams were all loaded onto vehicles and a few of them were already on the move, timing their own attacks for 3:00 a.m. Eastern. All had planned, rehearsed, and timed their route.
Pierce next went to the contact list in the phone, searched for “Paul Courson,” and dialed the number.
“Hello?” Paul responded.
“Our renegade Associate I spoke to you abou
t was never recovered. On the chance he’s taken refuge in the field office, I’d like you to task our asset with delivering the Associate his code.”
“That’s not going to be easy,” Paul said. “His access level in the field office is still low.”
“I know,” Pierce said. He read Paul the code number and then gave him a few ideas. When he was done, he said, “If none of that works, he’ll have to improvise.”
“Okay. This risks exposing him, so should I direct him to get out afterward and await further orders?”
“Yes, and I’ll get him a large bonus if he’s successful,” Pierce said. “You can tell him that.”
“Okay, good luck.”
“Thanks, and good luck to you,” Pierce said, and disconnected.
Pierce now dialed the number of a cell phone lying in the dashboard cubby of the mobile command unit RV and set his own phone beside it. He muted both phones.
Sentry Luciani was sitting next to him in the driver’s seat. “Not much time now,” Luciani said.
“Yes, not much time,” Pierce said. He got out of the RV, walked over to the adjacent SUV, and popped the hatchback.
He leaned inside and attached the suppressor to his pistol.
CHAPTER 65
Saturday, June 29
11:12 p.m. (PDT)
FBI field office, Portland, Oregon
Zach Poole returned to the field office by way of the parking structure entrance, passing through the security/duty officer section.
“Late night for you too?” the duty officer, Agent Montez, asked. The security guard next to Montez guided Poole through the metal detector and inspected his Targus backpack.
“Yeah,” Poole said with a frustrated look. “Forgot a few details on a deadline.”
“Have fun,” Montez said.
Poole took the elevator to the third floor and walked the hall to where his cubicle was located. He could see a handful of people working in the first bay so he took a route around it through the break room. When he reached his own area, the lights were dimmed in energy-saving mode, and he didn’t bother to hit the switch to wake the lights back up.