by R. A. Lamb
I stepped behind a large tree with low hanging branches to stay out of sight and accidently stepped on a twig. I moved my head slightly to the side of the trunk behind some leaves so I could see.
The man must have heard the snap because he immediately raised the shotgun and scanned the tree line. He called out in words I didn’t understand and another armed man appeared from behind the shack. I eased back and held my breath as I heard the first man’s footsteps shuffle closer. The armed man stopped not five steps away. I heard his breathing and saw his shadow move on the ground, closer and closer to the tree. The woods became deadly quiet. No wind, no leaves, no birds, no sound.
Another rustle and the shadow turned. Thank God for skittish squirrels. One jumped to the ground from a nearby tree and ran through the leaves chased by another. Their scratching sounds saved my bacon. I watched the guard’s shadow as he slung the rifle over his shoulder and raised his foot to a stump of a tree. The second man laughed and shouted something to the first. I peeked again as the guard with the shotgun tightened his sandal. That move told it all. I saw the spiraling tattoo on the exposed part of the man’s leg. There was no doubt.
I was sure of it now. This hidden crop of tall leafy plants was one source of funds for terrorists’ activities. They didn’t have to smuggle anything across the border they raised their marijuana on this side. I needed to get out of here and call Hank.
I guess the guard was satisfied the noise was nothing; at least he walked back toward the shack, lit a cigarette and disappeared around the corner.
I hurried back to Kathy, “What did you see?”
“Let’s get back to the car. I’ll tell you then.”
I guess Kathy could see I was tense so she didn’t press me. We were both breathing hard when we reached the parking area.
Once on the road Kathy asked, “What did you mean you knew what it was? What did you see when you got there?”
“Someone is raising pot. There were hundreds of plants. When we get back I’ll call Hank. He’ll know what to do.” I didn’t tell her about the guy, the shotgun and most of all, the tattoo. I would save that for a later time.
She looked upset and I reached for her hand. Damn it my playing FBI agent ruined our day. I glanced at her and changed the subject. “Kathy, I’m sorry about the path. Today at the park with you was great. That’s what I want to remember.”
She squeezed my hand, “Thanks, me too.”
Chapter 11
When we got to the motel I called Hank at our normal time. Kathy was in the other room and didn’t hear the first of the conversation.
“Holland.”
I confessed that we strayed off the reservation and explained what I saw on Lookout Trail including the field of marijuana and the guard with the tattoo.
“I don’t know if it’s a black cloud or a guardian angel over your shoulder, Todd.”
Kathy came in and sat down beside me as Hank said, “I’ll check into it and hold my advice. It wouldn’t do any good; would it?” His voice was full of sarcasm.
I didn’t reply.
“Get back to you later, Todd.”
Here we were again, right in the middle of things. The good part was that I was sitting on the couch, safe for the moment and Kathy was close beside me.
“Todd, I would really like to call my parents. I know they’re sick with worry. And we should call Congressman Bradford’s office.”
“You’re right. Let’s call him at his office first thing tomorrow. Maybe he could get word to our folks and let them know we’re safe.”
The next morning I was getting dressed when I heard Kathy in her room on the phone. “Congressman Bradford’s office? This is Kathy Ferguson is he in? Oh, then how about Tina Burcher.”
“Tina, this is Kat. Where is Congressman Bradford?”
I walked into Kathy’s room so I could hear the conversation. She pressed the speaker button.
I heard Tina’s voice, “He’s in conference at the Capitol. We’re all worried sick about you and Todd. Do you know where he is? Are you okay, Kat? Where are you and why--?”
“Hang on. We’re fine, in hiding but fine. Todd and I have rooms at the …”
I raised my hand to warn her not to tell.
Oh, sorry, Tina, I can’t tell you where we are but we’re safe. Do you think Congressman Bradford could get word to our parents and let them know?”
“Sure I know he’ll try as soon as he gets back. Is there anything else we can do? Where can he reach you?”
Kathy looked at the phone, “Call 555 2555 ext. 226.”
My heart almost stopped, “You gave her the motel phone number.”
Kathy realized her mistake, “I’ve got to go. Talk to you soon.” She hung up before Tina had a chance to say goodbye.
“I’m sorry Todd. Do you think it could be traced or could the Congressman’s office be bugged?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. They have security sweeps done routinely. I don’t know.”
“What do you think we should do, find another place?”
“I think we have to, Kathy. If the Congressman’s phones are tapped, it means the terrorists are really good. If they check this number it will lead them to these rooms.”
Maybe I was just paranoid but we checked out and drove to a Holiday Inn a few miles away. I rented two adjoining rooms using my cover name, Tim Brock. I didn’t see how the terrorists can find us there.
Once we unpacked we felt better. I kept thinking about Tina’s conversation. “I didn’t realize your friends called you Kat. What’s that about?”
“Not everybody does. I know it’s silly but…”
“No, not at all, in fact I think it fits perfectly. From now on it’s Kat.
She smirked.
There was nothing for us to do until tonight’s call so we drove to Red Robin for burgers, came back and caught some rays by the pool. I swam laps to burn off the nervous energy.
Kat stretched out in a lounge chair and read a magazine. For a moment life almost seemed normal. She got up and came over to the edge of the pool to show me an article about a new movie about to be released and bent down to show me the pictures. “I know it’s a chick flick but it says there’s plenty of action in it. You interested, Cowboy?”
I read the captions under the pictures and then looked up at her leaning toward me, “Who wouldn’t be interested?”
She glanced down and hit me on top of the head with the magazine. “You men, I meant the movie.”
I laughed and said, “Hey, I meant the movie too, but Hank wouldn’t want us to go. You’ve heard him say it a dozen times.”
“So?” She gave me that impish grin and slowly walked back to her chair. I noticed several guys watching her as she sat down and adjusted her sun glasses. I couldn’t blame them. That two piece red bathing suit was hot.
Chapter 12
It was late afternoon when we went back to our rooms. We checked the phone book for restaurants and decided the Mariner sounded like a good place. It was a short drive and well worth it. The Mariner specialized in seafood and was decorated with fishnets, crab pots and nautical equipment. The lights were low. It was definitely upscale casual dining. Our table was in the corner. Since my driver’s license said I was twenty one I ordered a beer and Kat a white wine.
When the waiter brought the menus I muttered, “I hope they serve steak and fries.”
She gave me a scowl then that little grin.
We started with crab cakes. I had stuffed flounder, Kat broiled yellow fin tuna. We talked and ate and tried to relax. I had another beer she joined me with another glass of wine.
It was twilight when we got back. As we were about to get out of the car I glanced up at our rooms. There was a light on in mine. Suddenly there was that tight feeling in my gut again.
I pointed. “You see that.” Kat caught her breath and I reached into the glove compartment, pulled out the gun and opened the car door.
“Todd, let’s leave and call Hank.
He’ll know what to do.”
I ignored what she said, stuck the gun under my shirt and headed for the room. Kat somewhat reluctantly followed behind.
The hallway on our floor was empty. We made our way to an alcove which had a soda vending and ice machine. We could easily see the doors to our rooms some twenty steps away.
I took out the gun and pulled the slide back chambering a shell. We waited. Sometime later the door to my room opened and a figure dressed like a maintenance worker stepped out and glanced down the hallway. He was carrying a small toolbox.
I gripped the butt of the gun tighter, my palms damp with perspiration. Suddenly ice fell in the machine beside us. I flinched. Had my finger been on the trigger I might shot myself. I didn’t want to think about that.
The man took a step toward us. That’s when I got a good look at his face. “Holy crap, it’s him, I muttered under my breath. We flattened against the wall. The maintenance man passed within a few feet and continued toward the stairway.
Neither of us moved until we heard the audible click of the door closing behind the intruder. There was no doubt the man in the maintenance uniform was Jamie Hendricks. “That was the missing officer who drew the composite of Alkobar,” I whispered to Kat.
“How did he find us and what was he doing in your room?”
Of course I didn’t have an answer to either question. We made our way to Kat’s door and she took out her magnetic key card.
“Let me go in first, Kat. There may have been more than one of them.”
I held the gun in both hands and pushed against the door with my shoulder. The room was dark. Kat stayed close behind and clicked on the light. It was empty and everything in place, just as she left it. We opened the door to my adjoining room. Again I went in barrel first. It was dark and empty. We searched the room and bath carefully but couldn’t find anything suspicious. “We better call Hank.”
I reached for the cell phone, dialed and clicked on the speaker. Hank listened as I described the events leading up to seeing Jamie Hendricks.
“… and, Hank, when we realized that we gave Tina the other motel’s phone number we moved. I don’t understand how they found us.”
“Did you use the credit card I gave you to check into the new motel?”
“Yes, and we used it at the other one too. It worked fine.”
“That’s it. The terrorists must have a tap on the Congressman’s phones. We’ll check that out and take care of it.”
“But, Hank, how did they find us here?”
“By being more sophisticated than I gave them credit. From that phone number you gave Tina, they found out the room and who it was registered to.”
“Okay, but we moved and --”
Hank interrupted, “All they had to do was track your card transactions. They knew when and where you used it and now they know your new identity.”
“They would need to be pretty well connected to be able to do that wouldn’t they?”
“They would. The scope of their reach keeps growing. Where are you now?”
When I told him he said, “Don’t say another word. Get out of there right now, don’t check out and just go. Get to a major freeway and call me. Remember not another word till your out.”
We made our way to the car, Kathy drove. I ejected the shell, put it back in the clip and slipped the gun into the glove box. We got on the Capitol Beltway which makes a big loop around DC and headed South.
I got Hank on the phone again. Hank asked where we had been hiding. I heard him dispatch some agents there to check out the place.
Hank said, “We swept the Congressman’s office and found the tap, you led them right to your door. Don’t pull a dumb trick like that again or it may be your last.”
I could hear the irritation in his voice. “Sorry Hank, I wasn’t thinking,” Kat answered. “It was my fault.”
“I’m not trying to find fault, I’m trying to keep you alive. Your ID’s are burned. It’ll take me a few hours to put something together. Stay on the beltway. I’ll call when I’m ready.”
It was after midnight when the call came. Kat was tired and our gas tank was running low so we refueled and changed drivers.
“Todd, I have the package, stay on the beltway and keep moving. I’ll find you. Now what town are you approaching?”
“Annandale.”
“Good. Look for a white Chevy Impala around Prince George’s. That’s where we’ll make the pass.”
About ten minutes from Prince George’s I called and told Hank what kind of car we were in. Hank told me to stay on the phone. We passed by a corner of Andrews Air Force Base and I noticed a white Chevy merge onto the beltway.
“Keep a constant speed. I’m going to pass the baton just like a relay race. Lower your passenger window.”
I slowed to fifty, the Impala pulled alongside. Good thing traffic was light at this time of night, I thought. Hank held a brown paper package out the window at arm’s length. Kat leaned out and I eased the car over. She grabbed it. As Kat slid back into her seat the side-view mirrors touched folding ours back toward the car then the Chevy slowly drifted to the right toward an exit.
Kat opened the package. In it was a new disposable cell phone, driver licenses, credit cards, two hundred in twenties and a note which read:
Start over. Drive to Regan International. Abandon the car in the parking lot, rent a new one. Throw away your phone and find a new hiding place. Call me at 703 555 3454 same time. Destroy this note.
Hank
“Your new alias is Todd Jacob Stratton and mine is Kathy Ann Clark. We even get our own credit cards this time. Now that’s what I call class. Wouldn’t you say?”
Chapter 13
We followed Hank’s note to the letter, rented a gold Toyota Camry and found a high rise motel in the outskirts of Alexandria, Virginia near the Landmark Mall. It had an IHOP off the lobby. I was in hog heaven.
We went to our adjoining rooms and I crashed. It had been a long night. I awoke to a knock on the adjoining door. It was early afternoon.
“Are you going to sleep all day, Todd?”
“Not with you around.”
“I thought we might go to the mall and scout out the neighborhood.” Kat had that impish grin.
“What is it with girls and shopping?”
“Okay, give me the keys and I’ll see you later.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Would you like to rephrase?”
I had to admit it was good to get out. We went on a mini shopping spree, nothing elaborate, a few new outfits, after all Hank did say start over. We ate and about 7:30 called Hank from the mall parking lot.
He sounded concerned. “The agents I sent to your room found something. Hendricks planted a gas canister on a timing device set for two in the morning. You’re lucky you saw the light in the window. Otherwise…”
“Jesus, Hank are you any closer to finding these guys, I thought you were experts. Ah, I’m sorry we’re nervous and…”
“Understand. We have noticed some increased chatter on the internet. Something is building. We’re going to follow up on the lead Kathy gave us about the Independence Day fireworks celebration.”
“What are you going to do, Hank?”
“We’re considering putting an agent on the inside at the fireworks company who will conduct this year’s display. If the cell is planning any covert activity they might hear about it.”
“That sounds great. Is it a big company and don’t the technicians need to be licensed?”
“They’re well known in the DC area, by far the largest in their field and yes everyone associated with pyrotechnic displays needs to file permits and is licensed. Why do you ask?”
“No reason, just curious.”
“Okay you both try to stay calm and stay out of sight. No contacts except me. Got it?”
“Got it Hank. Call you tomorrow.”
I put the key in the ignition and turned to Kathy, “I’ve been thinking.”
>
“That sounds dangerous,” she giggled.
“I’m not joking. Do you want to keep hiding or would you like to do something about it?”
“What do you have in mind this time, Cowboy?”
“I’m fed up being hunted; I think it’s time we were the hunters.” I explained my plan. “Kat, you don’t have to help me. We could split up. You have an ID and a credit card. I wouldn’t blame you if you want to find a safe place and wait things out. Really I would understand.”
“Are you kidding? Who will keep you out of trouble?”
The next morning we went to the local library to use their computer lab. I did a search for fireworks displays, DC and up came several sites including the Fourth of July celebration at the Washington Monument. There were several pictures of the festivities both during the day and at night as well as a write up on the fourth’s celebration history in the DC area. Some side references gave links to entertainment, food, planning and fireworks operations.
Under fireworks we found what we were looking for, the company which had a long history of setting up and conducting the display, The Black Dragon Fireworks Company in Fairfax, Virginia. Another search produced the address, a discussion of the company’s founders and a series of pictures showing the technicians wiring and connecting the explosives to the onsite control room and its bank of computers.
“You know, Kat, it wouldn’t be hard for an explosives expert to wire in some dangerous stuff. There will be thousands of people at this event and some redirected explosives could hurt a lot of folks.”
“That sounds a little farfetched, Todd. Surely there’s a lot of security in place. Do you really think the terrorists could get access?”