by Fiona Quinn
Zoe felt like she was on some kind of hallucinatory drug. She nodded in reply. She was glad for Gage’s hand resting between her shoulder blades. It was her anchor.
Prescott sent a glance toward the bullet-ridden front of the little white cottage. “How many are in custody? How many killed?”
“Panther Force didn’t sustain any casualties. Zoe took three bullets in her vest. She’ll have bruising tomorrow. Of the tangos, one neutralized, one in custody. Three got away, going opposite directions in two vehicles. We didn’t chase them down. We weren’t going to split our forces if they had a B team heading in. But we got photographs of their license plates.”
“Send those over to my phone, will you?”
“Done,” Titus responded.
“Shit.” Prescott shook his head. “I wish I knew what was going on. DCPD wasn’t able to come up with IDs on the men that broke into Zoe’s apartment. They aren’t in any of our systems. It doesn’t mean we’ll stop working on it though, Zoe.”
“Iniquus has that, sir,” Titus said. “I’ll send their identifications to you as well. Right now, what you need to know is that they were documented as Israeli Armed Services. The two men were listed as being MIA, assumed dead in an explosion.”
“How did Iniquus swing an identification, where the DCPD and FBI couldn’t?”
“Gage took photos of faces and ears, and rolled fingerprints after he neutralized the danger. With those three data points, we’re confident in the IDs churned out by our computer system.” He said obliquely.
Zoe turned her head to catch Gage’s eye. When did he have time to do that? She didn’t remember him doing that. Thank goodness he did that.
Gage looked down at her and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“Israeli?” Prescott shot a glance at the house. “All right.” He took a couple steps away from the men, and posted his hands on his hips while he looked up at the sky, making some decision or other. “This is getting complicated as hell, with a lot of foreign intrigue, and a lot of American interests at play. Let’s start here for now. How did Iniquus get involved?”
“We heard from Gage that a DARPA scientist was in danger, and Iniquus stepped in with pro-bono security when the FBI fell short.” There was no censure in his voice, Titus was merely stating facts.
Prescott chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Is Iniquus willing to continue playing a security role?”
“For the time being,” Titus said. “Of course, if this is going to be long term, you’re going to need to shift this case to the US Marshal Services.”
“But we have some time to try to figure this out?”
“What are you thinking?” Titus asked.
“I’ll call in an FBI cleanup crew to come take care of this. If anyone heard gunshots and called the police, we can wave them off.” Prescott sent a glance up and down the street. “Doesn’t look like that’s going to be a problem though.” He focused back on Titus. “We take the suspect to Iniquus headquarters, put him in one of your interrogation rooms, and see if we can’t convince him to talk. We take Zoe to your headquarters, as well—she’ll be safe and comfortable there for the moment until we can get her rehoused. And we get started piecing the story together. As Zoe names names, I’ll have one of my FBI team run by and pick them up for a friendly chat, to see if they can add anything to our understanding. All very nice, polite, and civilized. Folks will probably be better about spilling their guts in one of the Iniquus conference rooms than they would if we were asking questions at FBI headquarters, where they’d probably lawyer up. Iniquus has the same ability to record and remote view as we do.”
“How do you think they found us?” Gage asked.
“Had to be trackers,” Prescott said. “Did anyone sweep you?”
“Titus looked at Zoe’s phone, and it was compromised. It’s still at Iniquus,” Gage said. He looked for Titus’s nod that that was the case.
“But not you and your clothes?”
“No. Why would we?” Gage asked.
Titus rubbed a hand over his chin. “You were rubbing shoulders last night and this morning with a bunch of people who seem to have a lot riding on Zoe Kealoha. You brought in a pocketful of high-powered business cards. And most of those people have access to tracking technology.” He looked over at Prescott. “I’ve got equipment in my Hummer. We’ll give them both a check before we move them.”
“Let’s go ahead and take care of that sweep,” Gage said, “and get this show on the road. I don’t want the three that got away to come back with a bigger team and bigger weapons. We don’t need a showdown out here.”
Titus moved to his Hummer, driven over by a Panther, to gather his equipment. Prescott was on his cell, barking orders. Gage stood in place muttering in her ear, “This kind of thing was all so normal when I was in the Middle East; it feels pretty foreign here at home.”
Zoe leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around her armor-plated vest. She wondered how in the world they were going to keep her safe without putting themselves in even more danger.
Chapter Nineteen
Zoe
Anger is as a stone cast into a wasp’s nest.
~ Malabar Proverb
A handful of covert tracking devices lay on the kitchen table. Titus, Zoe, Gage, and Prescott stared down at the collection.
“Unbelievable.” Titus laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “This SNAFU is going to be the subject of a command leader meeting. Obviously, a body sweep needs to be part of our intake protocol.”
“Seems like a one in a million shot that something like this could happen,” Prescott said.
Titus focused on him. “It only takes one.”
“Now we know why we had time for Panther Force to get in place. They tracked the safe house, but couldn’t follow us when we were in the tunnel, no radio signal that deep down.”
One of the Panthers, a guy they called Thorn, tall and lanky like a basketball player, knocked on the doorframe leading from the dining room to the kitchen, and caught Titus’s eye. “Sir, I’m back from the safe house.”
“Find anything?”
“Yes, sir, everything was intact at the original site. But they were about to make their play.”
“Signs?” Prescott asked.
“Det cord and C-4 on the factory door. Not the side entrance we use for in and out, the main door that was soldered shut. Boot prints in strategically triangulated observation points. Tire tracks to two SUVs parked on the far side from where you drove your Hummer, Commander. From the rutting, it looks like they took off in a hurry.”
“You were on foot when you escaped. How did you beat them here?” Prescott asked.
“We were only a klick by tunnel, which was dug as the crow flies, but it’s a seven-mile detour by car. They had to gather the team, find our location, develop a new plan, and execute. The SOS Gage sent to you slipped through almost immediately, so it looks like the fates were shining a little luck in our direction.”
“What are you thinking, Gage?” Prescott asked.
Zoe turned to Gage to see his fierce as hell combat face.
“I don’t like how close we came to not having the present outcome. I’m used to close shaves. But in the rubble of Kabul that was the expectation. On American soil, I didn’t anticipate a foreign enemy to be gunning for us. And I didn’t expect to be protecting precious cargo.”
“Precious cargo,” Zoe repeated, trying out the words.
“Zoe, you’re classified as precious cargo.” Titus said. “It means we’re tasked with keeping you safe. Okay?”
Zoe gave a quick nod, not sure how to respond. Was she okay with that? Well she’d rather be someone’s precious cargo than a hunting trophy someone bagged. But who? Who wanted her enough to chance gunfire in the middle of the day? And C-4, for heaven’s sake. She looked down at the trackers on the table. “And each of these devices were placed by different people?” Zoe asked.
“No, these two are
the same. One planted in your jacket and one in Gage’s. So it’s probably the same person who planted these,” Prescott answered.
“Well, one of these is obvious.” Gage picked up Christopher Bilik’s business card. “Can anyone explain how this is a tracker?”
The four of them stared at the card. Gage turned it over and held it up to the light. He examined the thickness. It looked and felt like every other card in the pile.
Prescott turned to Zoe. “Ideas?”
Zoe took the card from Gage and ran her thumb over the print and graphic. She was alone in her mind, where she was comfortably free of others’ intrusions, though she knew that the men sat still and silent, waiting for her to come back into the room with them and offer up an explanation.
She waved the card in the air. “An EMF detector would be needed to confirm.” She let her gaze circle the table, taking in the men who sat with her. “Have any of you heard about smart dust?”
Three heads shook in reply.
“Hmmm. Well it’s the only thing I can think of right now.”
The men waited patiently.
“I thought smart dust was still conceptual in its communication’s application.” Zoe laid the card back on the table. “There was a grad student at the University of California. I think her name was Janice Link…Jamie Link. She was working on a silicon chip which she exploded by accident, destroying it. But through that accident she realized that the individual pieces could work as sensors. Those sensors have real-world applications now in many scientific ways, such as detecting tumors.” She fell silent.
The men watched her as she ran the pads of her fingertips over the card like she was reading braille. She pursed her lips in concentration.
“Zoe,” Gage reached for her hand. “You’re going to have to make a connection for us between Jamie Link’s discovery and this card.”
She looked up. “It would just be speculation.” Zoe didn’t like theory and speculation; they could throw thoughts in incorrect directions. She liked facts and clear data. Sitting at this kitchen table, without scientific equipment, she had a hypothesis and that was about it.
“That’s okay,” Gage said.
Zoe put the card back on the table. “A collection of microelectromechanical systems can form a simple computer.”
Prescott reached for the card and ran his thumb over the print like Zoe had. “Small enough that it could be embedded in this card or even the ink on this card?”
“They are light enough that they can remain suspended in air,” Zoe replied. “The concept is used to gather information in environments that are hostile to life.”
“How small would this be?” Titus reached for the card so he could feel the print as well.
“I’m just speculating.” Zoe needed them to hear the word again. They needed to understand that she didn’t have the answers. Shifting her weight from one thigh to another, she said, “That’s not good science.”
Prescott leaned forward. “We’re throwing ideas on the table. No one’s going to call these actual facts. Why do you want this card to be EMF detector? What do you think we might find?”
“It could be that the foil on the “M” is an antenna to augment the capacity of a tracking system built on smart dust research.”
Prescott reached to take the card from Titus and stared at the logo. “It would need a power source.”
“If it were me? I’d go for kinetic energy or possible light power. No, not light. The card will be in a place that gets little to no light, in someone’s pocket or wallet. Kinetic energy. That’s what I’d develop.”
Prescott lay the Montrim card on the table. Gage pulled out the other business cards that he had in his pocket. “Let’s see if we can figure out where the other trackers came from.” He laid the cards in a straight line down the middle of the table. “Zoe sent me a text, I came to visit her. There were two attackers. Neither would have been able to plant a tracker on me. The next people I encountered were the DCPD.” Gage moved the detective’s card to the front of the line. “Detective Adamson and I had a close encounter in the kitchen. I have no idea why he would plant a tracker on me.”
“He wouldn’t,” Prescott said. “Let’s take him off the table.”
Gage scooped the card up and put it in his pocket. “And you were there too, Prescott. Later on, I met you for our field trip.”
Zoe wondered what kind of field trip Gage had taken in the middle of the night with the FBI special agent.
“None of these are mine.” Prescott flicked his finger at the tracking devices. “I had zero reason to track you. I know Zoe from her work with the blood biomarker field analysis. I went to her condo following her SOS text. I met you later because you had a weird correlation between—” Prescott cut himself short when Gage glared in his direction. “I’m involved now because you sent a second SOS text. And frankly, I’m looking forward to getting caught up on what this is all about. Why is there Israeli interest in Zoe?”
“I think we’re all are looking forward to understanding this better.” Gage picked up Prescott’s card. “That takes you off the table too.” Gage moved that card to his pocket. “Leaving Zoe’s place, my first stop was Colonel Guthrie’s house.”
“Why did you go there?” Titus asked.
Zoe turned interested eyes on Gage. “How did you know I know the Colonel?”
“I called the hospital to see if they would give me an update on you. They were able to tell me what was going on because I was listed on your advanced medical directive.”
“That’s right, I filled that out as a requirement when I set up a lab at Montrim. I also listed Colonel Guthrie,” Zoe said as the light went on in her head.
“I found his address in your phone and went to tell him what had happened in person.” Gage moved the colonel’s card forward. “While I was there, Senator Billings showed up drunk on the colonel’s lawn. I removed myself to the kitchen while the colonel sent his friend upstairs. I found the senator’s wallet on the grass as I left and took a card. It wasn’t offered to me. I was never in the same room as the senator.” Gage pulled Charles Billings’s card off the table and put it in his pocket.
“Next, I went to the hospital. First Parker, then Grossman came to visit. They both came right into the room. Grossman mostly stood by the sink except when he shook my hand. I don’t see how he could have planted a tracker on me. But I’m going to leave him in play.” Gage pulled that card to the side. “Parker, on the other hand, made himself at home. The next person to visit the hospital was the colonel.” Gage tapped the card. “Then Bilik from Montrim. We know he handed me his tracker, embedded somehow in this card.”
“The CIA were the only ones who walked into the hospital room?” Prescott asked, pulling Parker’s card to the center.
“That’s right, I spoke with everyone else at her door.”
“Then the CIA would have had the opportunity to plant the pair of trackers in the coats, one for Zoe and one for Gage.” Prescott put the matching trackers on that card.
“Which leaves two more trackers and one card,” Titus said.
Prescott moved the tracker that was found in Zoe’s watch to the side. “This was done in the past. Not last night.” He put the last tracker they’d found on Gage onto Colonel Guthrie’s business card. “Now isn’t that interesting. Why did he go by the hospital in the early hours of the morning? Didn’t you already tell him she was fine?”
“He brought me some coffee and a sandwich. He came to check up on her.”
Titus leaned forward. “So he expected you to be there. He knew what had happened. He knew you were going to be protecting her. Did he know you contacted me?”
“I didn’t mention you, no.”
“He wanted to know where you were taking her,” Titus said. “Still, why would he plant a tracker? I’m not so sure about this one.”
“I’m more confident in the ones planted by the CIA. They definitely wanted to know where she went.” Prescott sent a speculativ
e look Zoe’s way.
“But there’s also the tracker that was in my phone, that Titus found, and now the one in my watch.” She pointed to where her watch lay on the table with its back removed. “People could have been tracking me for a very long time.”
“Lots of interest in your whereabouts, Zoe. We need to know why.”
This tracker information was a lot to take in. Why did people feel a need to follow her? She felt gray, as if all the color had been wrung from her body. Gage reached out to run a calming hand down her arm and lace his fingers with hers. She squeezed his hand between both of hers as she looked at the Panther Force men, posted at the doors and windows. “This is an inappropriate location for that discussion.”
“Understood,” Titus said. “We’ll have you in a secured location soon. Now that we have a good idea how they found you at the safe house, we can do a better job of keeping you protected.”
“Sir, an FBI panel van just pulled up,” a Panther called from the front room.
“That’s our cleanup crew,” Prescott said.
Titus picked up a box that would thwart the tracking signals, placed the devices inside, and shut the lid. “Now everyone will know we’ve found the trackers. Whoever sent the teams in knows they blew their best chance at their grab, not once but twice.” He glanced around the table. “They know if they’re going to get to Zoe, the time between our leaving this house and getting her squirrelled away is probably their only window of opportunity. I imagine they’re scrambling to find a way to snatch her from us. Time to head out.”
Chapter
Twenty
Zoe
Where the wasp has passed the fly sticks fast.
~ French proverb
The FBI panel van sat to the side of the circular driveway. Prescott went out to talk to them and two of the Panthers had gone to bring their vehicles around. Gage and Zoe waited off to the side.
Prescott jogged back to the front door. “Okay, we’re set,” he called loudly enough for the entire team to hear. “The clean-up crew will take care of the body.”