Shadows at War

by Capps, Kenneth L. ;

  “What do we do? Rip ’em all out?”

  “Nah, that will set him off. What we do is keep playing the game. This is how he operates, and he is the best there is. We know this.” Check reached into his pocket and handed him a phone that looked the same as the first phone he had been given. “Here is a phone you can use any time anywhere around him. It’s just a regular phone, and he will be able to read it, so be careful what you say. The other phone is the only secure one, but don’t use the secure one in your car or your mom’s car, as he can hear you now.

  “And you knew all this info how?” Briggs questioned.

  “We have been and will continue to watch you and your house. Christ, I knew he would do this; it was almost a damn guarantee. I have a crew on Brown’s Island with big eyes on your house and another crew you didn’t see at the turnoff to your road. Six cameras have been installed throughout your yard so we can survey the grounds.”

  “When did you do all this?” Briggs asked.

  “After Trust’s guys moved out. The two boys in the woods will leave with me tonight, but the camera crew will be down the road twenty-four seven. We rented a house at the end of the road. It’s number 2107, a two-story brick about a hundred yards up the main road. Ah, hell, you know the area,” Check said, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

  “Man, this is happening fast,” Briggs said, scratching his head. The stress in his voice was evident, and Check frowned.

  “How are you holding up with all this?” Check asked.

  “Just peachy. I’m learning quickly, that’s for sure. Is my family in danger?”

  “Negative. And if they were, I would move you and Trust would follow. His interest is in you. That’s the only reason he is here. All the devices his men left behind are targeted at you, your room, computer, and car.”

  “But you mentioned my mom’s car?”

  “They probably weren’t sure what car you’re driving. Safe bet is to bug both. It’s what I would have done.”

  “I’m starting to get an idea of this guy now. You know, he was hitting on my mom a little.”

  “Yeah. Can’t say it enough—he’s a smooth operator, in all aspects of life.” Check chuckled. “That’s just him slathering on the charm. Plus, not to be disrespectful, but your mom is not his type. He is a big fan of hookers, high-dollar hookers to the tune of around three, four grand a night. Hit it and quit it, that’s his take on the female persuasion.”

  “Just sex,” Briggs echoed.

  “Exactly, just sex. Hell, he doesn’t have time for romance. He will have a girl flown in when he wants to get a little, and she is out the door when he is done. Don’t even have a chance to shower, those girls. Good-bye, get up, and go. Then he goes back to work. That’s why he never remarried. A wife doesn’t fit into the picture for him. Wives ask too many questions and always want an answer. Hookers just want their money.”

  Briggs looked over Check’s shoulder, keeping an eye on the back of the house. “What’s up?” Check asked. “You look a little nervous.”

  “Really? Because I have my best spy face on right now. You just can’t see it because it’s dark,” Briggs said sarcastically.

  Check held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, everything is cool, just relax. This is how Trust is, weird and crafty. And we’ll be craftier.”

  “Yeah, but what you are calling smooth and crafty is straight out of a freaking movie or damn spy novel. This son of a bitch has been in my mother’s house, invaded her privacy, and all because of me. I don’t take that lightly. Hell, even you’ve done the same damn thing. This is supposed to be my deal, not my family’s. I hear what you’re saying—I’m the one he’s after—but I just wish it didn’t have to involve my mother and her space.” Briggs rubbed his forehead. “Shit, a few weeks ago, I was just Joe Schmuck Marine. Now you have me and my family tangled up with an eavesdropping pervert on a power trip.”

  “Look, I know this is tough on you. I have been through it myself. One day, I will tell you that story,” Check said.

  “I guess I better get used to that.” Briggs curled his lips in a frustrated expression.

  “Ah. Better to be in the dark on some things. It will save your hide in the end. Trust me, as we go along, the idea will be easier to appreciate. You still in?” Check asked.

  “Of course I will finish the job. I’m in. I won’t let you down, and I know you won’t let me down. Besides, I admit I’m starting to understand why I can’t know everything. It’s a safety test for me more than anything.”

  Check nodded. “Just a few things before I go. All the guys here and on Brown’s Island are going to leave. We have all the surveillance cameras in and the crew who is monitoring them is up the road, so you’re covered. There’s another emergency signal you can use when all else fails. Throw a chair through any window in the front of the house.”

  “Seriously? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Briggs scoffed.

  “Believe me, if it comes down to it, you’ll be glad for it.” He slapped Briggs’s shoulder and changed the subject. “So how did you like the mega boat?”

  “It was the most impressive thing I have ever seen in my life. I now have a picture in my head for the term filthy stinking rich.”

  “Yep, that’s what he’s all about. I gotta respect the guy a little—” Check stopped midsentence, then continued. “Yeah, I can tell you this. Although he was born into the bulk of his money, he did bust his ass to get what he has today, to maintain it.”

  “I kinda got the sense that he is a workaholic. Definitely a Type A personality.”

  “I knew you’d pick it up,” Check said, pleased. “The guy never sleeps. Do you remember when he said he gets out of bed at 0500 no matter what was going on the night before? He’s serious. Maybe sleeps four hours a night.”

  A light went on in Briggs’s eyes at Check’s comment. “How do you know that? I left my phone in the house. Are you listening through my watch somehow?”

  “Nope. Even if you did take it with you we couldn’t access it. Trust has an array of anti-eavesdropping devices on the yacht that crush even the most sophisticated attempts to penetrate inside the hull and outer bulkheads. They do an incredible job of keeping out our listening devices. That’s why he had the thing built out of steel and aluminum in Holland—a very accommodating builder. Nah, I picked up the conversation with a direct device aimed at the two of you while you were chatting on the back of the boat.” He grinned mischievously. “Like I said, we’ve got your back all the time.”

  Briggs started to grind down on his back teeth. He could see now that his privacy, and his family’s, had been completely compromised in this deal. The fun was fast running out of this adventure. The dark concealed his emotions and he kept his mouth shut.

  Check went on, “Yep, that little boat of his pisses off a lot of people when he sets up dockside. Phones don’t work, Internet goes down, and satellite TVs start flipping out. The tech geeks love him. They get a lot of good business going on the docks to ‘fix’ all the problems. Trust even fakes his own problems so no one gets suspicious.” He laughed, shaking his head. “That guy is smooth, I tell ya.”

  “He wants me to go fishing with him at 0600 and show him some hot spots.” Briggs nodded in the direction of Trust’s Shearwater tied up to the dock. “Told me to pick him up in his boat, gave me five hundred bucks for supplies, which of course is completely over the top. Won’t take the money back either.”

  “Yeah, heard that too.” Check pulled out a map from the inside of his lightweight camouflaged cape-like jacket. Briggs was certain that it was some type of high-tech gear from Check’s incredible inventory of super cool equipment only accessible to the upper echelon of special-ops types. It looked as if it could be quickly pulled up over his head in order to break up the human silhouette, allowing another level of camouflage. Briggs noticed the butt of a Glock pistol and two extra magazines tucked inside a shoulder holster beneath Check’s left armpit.

&n
bsp; Check shined the blue lens of a flashlight onto the map and pointed. “See this area?”

  “I know it.”

  “Take him there and fish up and down this bank. We will be able to watch and track you without being noticed, and we’ll be able to hear without using your phone.”

  Briggs knew Check and his crew would set up in the Cape Lookout lighthouse, high above the meandering edges of Core Banks and Shackleford Banks. The lighthouse stood more than one hundred sixty-three feet tall and had kept watch over mariners for more than one hundred and forty years. It put a sour taste in Briggs’s mouth that the lighthouse, after years of noble service, would now be used for spying purposes—not only on Trust, the supposed bad guy, but also on him.

  He remembered as a boy how he would get up early to scope out the nets with his father, sometimes in the chill of winter and sometimes in the light breeze of a hot summer’s sunrise. He imagined his father standing in the backyard, still and silent, watching the flash of the turning light from the lighthouse. He would say, “There’s our way home, boy.” The full emotional impact of those lost moments came rushing in, and he took a few deep breaths. Briggs knew Check didn’t see the lighthouse for its beauty and emotional value. It was a strategic vantage point, nothing more. Guess I can’t totally blame him. My memories are my own, but damn. Who is Check more concerned about? Trust or me?

  Briggs suddenly felt a surge of anger. He decided to exercise a little of his own power and regain some control. “That’s not a good idea, sir,” he said mildly. He turned the map sideways and pointed at a different location far away from the lighthouse. “We will be fishing here.”

  “That’s not good, we can’t put eyes on you there, and he will be suspicious of any boats that follow, other than his own, of course. He’ll probably have one of his boats shadowing you as well.”

  Briggs grew more confident as he spoke. “That may be true, sir, but we won’t be fishing where you are asking us to. When I first met Trust here at the dock, he said he’d fished here before. That means he knows the best places to fish. He knows it’s not the time of year for that area. Everyone knows that, even the dingbatters. Add that to the fact that you have a huge lighthouse right there, hanging over the very area. He’ll not only be suspicious, but he’ll be pissed off if he realizes what we’re doing.” Briggs raised an eyebrow. “If you really don’t want to raise warning flags, and since you know I am able to handle this job without a constant eye on my ass, I think the mission would be best served by letting me take him where the fish are biting.” He paused. “Sir.”

  Check fell silent and let Briggs’s words settle in. He lifted his chin, staring straight at Briggs. “You’re right.”

  “Good.” Briggs felt a lot more satisfaction than he probably should at his successful power play. It was hard for him not to smirk, but he didn’t dare. “It’ll be fine. Just a fishing trip, in my own backyard practically. I’ll relay the events as soon as I’m able.”

  “You’re right. This is a better move.” Check retrieved a radio from his pocket and ordered his men to bug out. “Call me after your fishing trip and fill me in.”

  “You bet.”

  Check turned and flashed a red beam of a flashlight several times toward the bay. A small boat without lights, painted flat black, emerged from the dark of the waters, surprising Briggs. The boat had been waiting several yards off the dock, just out of sight. Two large motors were on the back, also painted flat black, tilted all the way up. The jack plates were maxed out in the up position in order to keep the props from dragging the bottom, which was a mere fourteen inches under the rippling surface. The boat didn’t make a sound as the driver maneuvered it with an electric trolling motor mounted on the front of the boat. It snaked over to pick up Check, who made a short hop and landed on the front of the craft with a graceful, silent step.

  He looked back at Briggs and said, “Be careful. And one day, you’ll have to tell me what the hell a dingbatter is.”

  The boat silently slid back into the dark. Briggs stood at the end of the dock and watched as it stealthily made its way into the bay. He admitted to himself that he was impressed with Check’s toys and exit, but he was still pissed off about his family’s loss of privacy. He hadn’t signed up for that. I thought I was the spy! Now I’m just getting spied on! He shook his head. Maybe the morning will hold some answers, he thought as he walked back to the house and into his room.

  Scott’s phone started to vibrate the second he picked it up off the bed. The number was Anita’s.

  “You’re up late,” he said while walking toward the back window that overlooked the bay.

  “I just wanted to say good night. And tell you I love you.” Her voice was soft and sweet—so Anita.

  “Now how did you know I would be up this late?” Briggs asked.

  “Scott, this is Gloucester, everybody knows everybody. Everyone knows everything.” She laughed.

  How true. And here I was upset about Check spying on me. He laughed. “You have no idea,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. I’m sorry we were out so late. I tried to get back earlier but there was no escape. The visit lasted longer than I thought it would.”

  “I understand. Anyway, I get off work tomorrow . . .” She paused. “I mean today, at three in the afternoon. Wanna get together after that?”

  Briggs smiled. “Nothing, I mean nothing, would be better. I’ll pick you up.”

  He looked out the window toward the water as they said their good-byes. The only indication that a boat was on the water was the white foam spraying up behind it as it passed in front of the shimmering moonlight dancing across the bay.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  August 2006

  Briggs’s bleary eyes bulged when he saw that it was seven o’clock. He’d slept maybe two hours, and even those were unsatisfying. At one point, he’d thought about going out for a run and perhaps coaxing Anita out of her house for some moonlight romance down by the water’s edge. Just the thought of a clandestine meeting with her had excited him to the point of arousal until he thought about Check’s men following him, watching and listening. Damn, this is going to be a helluva wet blanket on my love life.

  The morning light brought no answers to the questions that kept Briggs restless in his bed throughout the night. He wondered about these new chains that bound him. From now on, every word he spoke with Anita would be filtered because he knew they were being listened to. No more long, honest talks like they used to have. It killed a part of him just thinking that he could not be himself with her. But it was for her own safety. And his mom. His sister. His friends. The reality of the constant surveillance they were under was overwhelming. He was living in a fishbowl with no drapes. “Sucks,” he admitted to the walls of his room in a low voice, because he remembered the walls had ears too. His confessionals would have to stay within the confines of his mind.

  He thought about the phone and watch that Check had given him and pondered what other gear Check and the Service used that he didn’t even know about. His paranoia rose with every thought. In the days since Check had first come to see him, Briggs had already changed some of the habits that had been with him all his life. He no longer slept in the nude; instead, he wore running shorts. He moved his Beretta 9mm from the gun safe and kept it behind a stack of Tom Clancy novels on the shelf above his headboard. He even closed the door to his bathroom in his room, something he had never done before.

  Glancing at the clock once more, he shot out of bed and rushed around his room, bouncing off the walls as he dressed to go fishing.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” he barked as he banged his still tender arm into the bathroom wall.

  “Are you okay?” His mother—always been an early riser—pushed open the door to his room.

  “Yes, I just bumped my arm on the doorjamb.”

  “Your arm? You mean the arm that doesn’t hurt at all? The one you said was fine and doesn’t hurt?”

  “Yes,
Mom, that arm,” Scott replied, knowing that he couldn’t get anything past his mom.

  “Can I fix you something to eat for breakfast?” She held a steaming cup of coffee to her lips and Scott’s mouth watered. Coffee would be so good.

  “No thanks, I’m running late. I should’ve already been on the water and on my way to Mr. Trust’s boat.”

  “I heard you tossing about last night. Only natural you’d need to sleep in. Who was that man you were speaking to at the end of the dock?”

  Scott froze but recovered quickly. “You know what, Mom? I would love a breakfast sandwich. Can you throw a few together for me and Mr. Trust?”

  “Sure, honey. I know you’re in a hurry. It will only take a few minutes.”

  “Thank you, God,” he mouthed to the heavens. His mother had superpowers when it came to the goings-on around the house. He’d always been convinced she could hear through ten-foot-thick concrete walls. He laughed to himself. Check could train under his mother. At least he’d avoided her question for the moment and given himself a few minutes to come up with an excuse.

  Now, not only would he have to watch what he said, but he would have to keep up with everyone else as well. A flash of panic caused him to flush with sweat. The situation was quickly becoming a big damn mountain of hell. All of Check’s men had been well armed last night, and Check carried a Glock with two magazines. Scott knew a firefight could get out of hand quickly, and automatic weapons fire—no matter how good a shooter—would indiscriminately bounce off walls and choose its own target.

  His mind continued to race. His heart was keeping pace.

  Scott walked into the kitchen and helped his mom pack the sandwiches.

  “The guy on the dock last night was gigging flounder in the shallows,” he said offhandedly, praying that would satisfy her curiosity.

  “Really?” she said. “I didn’t see any floodlights on the boat.”

  “They had problems with their lights and were trying to get them to work when I stumbled on him. I thought they were trying to steal Mr. Trust’s boat until I started talking to the guy.”