by R. A. Lamb
“Kat did you see that? That guy in the crowd behind those medics.”
“No who did you see?”
The video focused on a paramedic opening a rear ambulance door.
“There, in the crowd. That’s…”
Kat interrupted, “Its Alkobar.”
“He did get away,” I was on the edge of my seat, “I’m calling Hank. He can get a copy of the video and tell for sure.”
Kat continued watching as I speed dialed. The news switched to another story and she muted it. I pushed the speaker key on the phone. Hank answered and listened to what we saw.
“I’ll have the lab take a look at that video. It could save us a lot of time if we could confirm Alkobar is still alive. In fact we’ll call in all the footage shot. You never know what might turn up.”
My heart was still racing when I set the phone on the side table.
“We’ve done all we can.” Kat switched TV channels, “Don’t you think?”
“Well, Kat, I was just wondering…”
“You can’t let this go, can you? What’s going through that cowboy brain now?”
“I keep thinking that Black Dragon Fireworks Company is a key to the terrorists’ plot. If we could find out more about the Fourth of July celebration we might be able to disrupt their plans.”
“We,” Kat’s eyes were opened wide?
“I mean the DC police and the FBI.”
“Sure you do.”
“Kat, didn’t that manager, Mr. Chanley agree to show you around where they are setting up the fireworks display?”
“That’s when he thought we were reporters.”
“What’s changed his mind? Anyway he seemed to really like you. I’m sure you could sweet talk him into meeting us.”
“Sweet talk,” Kat hit me with a pillow from the couch.
That started it. I looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward me. I leaned back until my head was on the armrest and lifted one leg. My thigh slipped between hers. She clamped down on it and pushed her arm against the back of the sofa. I lost balance and slipped from the couch to the carpet with Kat on top.
“Humph,” I wheezed, “Give up before you get hurt. I have a black belt you know.”
She hit me again with the pillow and tightened her hold on my thigh. I clasped my arms around her pulling Kat tightly against me and rolled over and on top of her. Our noses almost touching I said, “Truce?”
“Here’s your truce Cowboy,” Kat poked me in the sides with her fingers and broke my hold. She almost wiggled out from under me.
I grabbed her wrists and stretched her arms above her head whispering in her ear. “Say Uncle.”
Kat twisted her head from side to side. I could smell the shampoo in her damp hair. I stretched further and put more weight on her chest.
“Okay, Uncle.”
I released her wrists and drew my weight to my elbows. “See, you shouldn’t mess with cowboys.”
Kat’s blue-green eyes stared into mine. She flicked the tip of her tongue at me and gave me that devilish grin. “Are you going to let me up soon, Cowboy?”
Her face was flushed as I helped Kat to her feet. And to tell the truth my cheeks felt hot.
We sat back down on the couch. I didn’t know what to say so I reached for the TV remote. Kat sat close and put her hand on my thigh. We watched some reruns on the USA channel. We didn’t say much. I put my arm around her and held her tight. When Kat’s head began to nod she kissed me on the cheek and said goodnight. I watched as she walked into the other room.
The next morning, after breakfast, we placed a call to Black Dragon Fireworks. The receptionist, Miss Grayson, answered. Kat identified herself as Kathy Clark reporter for the Georgetown Weekly and asked to speak to Mr. Chanley. Miss Grayson put Kat on hold and we listened to elevator music for a couple of minutes. She came back on the phone and said, “Mr. Chanley will be with you in a moment.”
Almost immediately we heard, “Miss Clark, how delightful to speak with you again. What can I do for you?”
Kat explained she was calling to accept the invitation to see the fireworks installation site and asked when would be a good time for her and her photographer to meet him for a tour.
“Your photographer? Oh, yes of course, that young man who was with you. I suppose he can come too,” Mr. Chanley sounded disappointed.
“When would be a good time?” Kathy repeated
“Actually this afternoon. We have over half of the electronics installed. I’ll go out and check things over after lunch. Meet you, let’s say about three. Then after we’re finished we could, ah, get some coffee. And call me Lester, Mr. Chanley sounds so formal.”
He gave Kat directions and she assured him she was looking forward to the meeting. “That’s sounds great, ah, Lester. See you at three.”
I made a grimace as though I were ill.
Kat pressed the end button. “Isn’t that what you wanted,” she said?
At quarter to three Kat and I found a parking space on the edge of the Washington Monument grounds and walked toward a large area surrounded by a chain link fence which Mr. Chanley had described. As we approached we could see a construction trailer inside and workmen with Black Dragon uniforms assembling steel scaffolding to an elaborate platform. There were two Black Dragon trucks and a tan sedan parked by the entrance gate.
Mr. Chanley was standing beside the trailer’s door talking to a workman wearing a hardhat. He waved when he saw us and the workman looked around. It was Ponytail. He turned and went into the trailer.
“Good to see you again Miss Clark.”
“Kathy, please. Good to see you too, Lester,” Kat extended her hand.
Lester Chanley beamed. I saw him suck in his gut and reach for Kat’s hand.
“Let’s start with the platform, Kathy, and work our way back to the control center. Watch your step.” Lester Chanley handed each of us a visitor’s badge and a hardhat.
We crossed over several bundles of cables connecting the trailer with the platform rigging. It was quite impressive, thousands of wires connecting hundreds of fireworks canisters in precise arrays.
Lester pointed as he talked about how the firework patterns were wired and what they would look like during the celebration. I snapped several pictures of the platform and close ups of the firework canisters. I thought maybe Hank or the guys in the FBI lab could detect something unusual.
We slowly followed Lester Chanley through the maze of wire and cable back to the trailer. Inside was a bank of monitors, a panel of switches and several computers. Ponytail was nowhere to be seen.
“The software does most of the work,” Lester said and patted the top of a computer, “the switch panel is a manual backup if something goes wrong.”
“How many people will be here during the performance?” Kat flipped open her note pad.
“Three operators sit in these chairs and make sure the software stays in sync with the orchestra. Timing is the key to a great show.”
I took a series of pictures, the computers, the table filled with monitors and a close-up of the switch panel. I even took a picture of several wooden crates stacked at the end of the trailer. At the other end on the floor by a chair was a small open suitcase. It contained some crumpled paper partially covering a single yellow tube. My mind snapped to attention, that’s the suitcase from the terrorists’ apartment. I caught Kat’s eye and nodded my head in that direction. I saw by her reaction, she saw what I saw.
Kat tried to divert attention from it. “And what’s in those crates, Lester,” She said putting her hand on his sleeve and pointing her pen with the other?
Lester beamed, “Some speakers we’re storing for the sound crew.”
“Isn’t that a little late to be hooking up the sound,” she said removing her hand.
“Most of it is done. These are special speakers that will be placed close to the crowd so they can get the full effect of the orchestra.”
Kat smiled and I smiled and I
took some more pictures, including one of the suitcase. “Well that about does it for us,” Kat put her notepad away.
“I thought of a few more things to tell you; how about you and I get that coffee now. I could drop you off later. I’m sure your photographer wants to get back and has a lot to do.”
“I’d love that Lester but I can’t. I’ll call you before we go to press and let you discuss the story with me over coffee, how’s that?”
Lester looked disappointed, “I’ll hold you to it Kathy.”
As Kat and I got into the car I started to give Kat a hard time about Lester.
“Stop that Cowboy. You’ve no reason to be jealous. I mean…We got what we came for didn’t we?”
“You’re right about that. More than we came for. Let’s find a place to get that coffee and call Hank.”
“Holland.”
I took a sip of hazelnut mocha latte and explained as fast as I could what Kat and I saw and what we did. “We saw Ponytail at the site but he was gone when we went back to the trailer. I have lots of pictures your lab guys might want to see including the setup and inside the trailer.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.”
“Oh, and I almost forgot.” I didn’t really forget. I just wanted to save the best for last. “Kathy and I saw one of those yellow tubes, like the one we gave you. It was in an open suitcase in the trailer.”
“Son of a bitch, Todd, is there anything else you forgot to tell me?”
I couldn’t help from grinning, “No, I think that’s all. Looks like the Fourth’s celebration is the time the terrorists’ picked for the attack and we want to be part of stopping it.”
“That is right on top of us, Todd. If I let you help, I need you to do something for me.”
“And that would be?”
“Brief me face to face and there’s someone I want you to meet.
“Who?”
“I’ve been assigned a partner, Agent Sam Brownly. I need Brownly up to speed ASAP.”
“Can we trust this Brownly?”
Hank convinced us we could. We agreed on a time and place.
Chapter 20
At nine thirty the next morning Kat and I walked into the West Branch of the Alexandria Public Library and introduced ourselves. The librarian gave us a broad smile, “The rest of your group just arrived. They’re waiting in the second floor meeting room.”
The door was ajar. I could see Hank talking to someone. He turned as Kat and I entered. Standing next to Hank was a very attractive woman in her mid-twenties in a pale pink blouse and light gray pant suit.
“Sam, this is Todd Boling and Kathy Ferguson.”
She extended her hand. It was a firm handshake.
Samantha Brownly’s long brown hair and dark brown eyes complimented her golden tan.
I must have looked surprised, because Hank snickered, “Did I forget to mention that Sam is a --”
I interrupted, “Whatever, ah, we made prints of the pictures we took.”
I pulled them out of the manila envelope. The pictures slipped out of my fingers and scattered on the conference table. Two or three fell on the floor. Samantha, that is Sam, slowly bent over to pick them up.
I was staring.
Kat nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. Her expression sent the message.
Hank cleared his throat. He seemed to be enjoying the moment. “Let’s sit down and discuss what we know. Is that door closed?”
Sam smiled at me and walked over to make sure.
As I sat down Kat leaned over and whispered, “Try to stop drooling, Cowboy. You’re getting the pictures wet.”
“What was that, Kathy?” Hank asked and opened a folder.
“Ah… I was reminding Todd to give you the digital card from the camera in case your lab wants it.”
“Thanks. Now, I guess I’ll save my breath about you two staying out of this, so here’s the plan. I want you and Kathy to help Sam. She is an experienced operations liaison and headed a surveillance taskforce in LA. You want to explain what that means, Sam?”
“Sure. Basically we’ll be onsite using electronics to spot the bad guys. We’ll be in the mobile command post or MCP. Our job is to scan the crowd and coordinate with the agents stationed on the grounds.”
“There will be plainclothes agents walking the area,” Hank said. “Each of us has a sector. If a terrorist is spotted, we’ll take him down.”
I turned toward Hank, “You can’t shoot into the crowd, can you?”
Hank opened his coat and laid a black plastic pistol with a yellow grip on the table. “Each of us will be carrying this, in addition, to our 9mm’s.”
I leaned over to get a closer look. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It’s an X-7 Taser, Hank continued. “They were designed for sky marshals to use on airplanes and carry an electric shock like an ordinary Taser but in addition deliver a tranquilizer dart. The X-7 will knock them down and knock them out. Not lethal but very effective.”
Sam interrupted, “Why don’t I take Todd and Kathy to see the MCP so they can get familiar with the layout?”
“Good idea. Take them in your car. Todd, I could use your wheels, if I could have your keys, I’ll meet you later.”
I sat up front and Kat slipped into the back of Sam’s dark blue Tahoe. Kat seemed a little quiet.
Sam carried the conversation. She told us she was raised in Santa Monica, California, within walking distance of the beach. She played soccer and tennis in high school, loved the water and liked running.
“Well that’s a coincidence, Kat and I have a run planned from the Lincoln Memorial to the Washington Monument and back. Maybe you could join us when this is over.”
“I’d like that if I wouldn’t be intruding.”
I turned toward the back seat, “Sam wouldn’t be intruding, would she, Kat?”
Kat didn’t say a word for a few seconds. She pressed her lips firmly together then said, “No of course not, that would be just fine.” And she put emphasis on —just fine—
I turned back to Sam. “Great it’s all set.”
Sam glanced at me and gave me a broad smile. I smiled back and stared at her great tan.
Kat decided not to be completely antisocial and briefly described her background and training for the DC Marathon. Her tone, however, was reserved and different from the Kat, I knew.
We parked near a line of TV Satellite vans. Each had roof-mounted dishes and sides decorated with TV logos. There were the major networks and some local stations. Sam led us to one and knocked. Inside, four men, sitting on stools, watched a bank of monitors. We climbed inside and stood behind them. It was a little cramped. Under the monitors, a narrow countertop was littered with keyboards, headsets and handheld radio transmitters among other things. Below that were a conglomeration of computer towers and a tangle of cables.
“Our job starts here tomorrow morning,” Sam said as she squeezed between two stools and pointed at a monitor. “We can watch up to six camera locations per screen.”
I counted ten screens. Some were on, some were not. “We can’t possibly watch all these at the same time.”
“You’re right, Todd. There are twenty four entry points to the grounds,” Sam explained, “We have uniformed security and a fixed camera at each one.”
“Still that’s a big—”
“Just a second, we’re also running facial recognition software on every camera. If a known terrorist comes through a gate we’ll know it.”
I leaned over Sam’s shoulder toward the bank of monitors. My face was inches from hers and I could smell her perfume. It was quite different from Kat’s. Lighter, more floral, nice. I asked, “How will we—”
Sam interrupted, “The frame will blink. You’ll know. We also have cameras around the orchestra, the fireworks scaffolding and the fireworks control trailer.”
Sam straightened up and backed into me, “Sorry, it’s a little snug in here.”
I g
rinned, “Oh, that’s okay. We don’t mind. Do we Kat?”
I looked around. Kat gave me that, speak for yourself look.
Sam pointed at one of the monitors. “And this one shows us what goes on inside the fireworks trailer.”
The screen was split into two images, one showing the left side of the trailer, the other the right. A man in a Black Dragon Fireworks uniform was sitting at a desk holding a folder and checking switches. I could see the speaker crates were still where they were the other day but the suitcase was gone.
“Do they know about the cameras?” Kat asked.
“No. We put those and listening devices in last night after they locked up.”
“Is that legal?”
“Yes, part of my job is to ensure there is a proper paper trail, in case we need to use it later.
“What’s happening over there?” I pointed to a monitor showing a video feed of a police officer and his dog.
Sam cleared her throat, “That’s part of the K-9 Corps. We have several teams on patrol. Those search dogs are trained to detect explosives.”
One of the agents watching the monitors added, “They get confused around the fireworks scaffold but if there’s any C-4, Semtex or other explosives around they will let their handlers know.”
Kat asked, “Hank mentioned agents walking sectors. How is that going to work?”
“They’ll all have Bluetooth headsets and video transmitters so we can communicate when we need to and see what they see. We have a map of the sectors and who is assigned to each one.”
Kat shifted her weight and leaned in, “Doesn’t that make them look rather obvious? They are supposed to be undercover, aren’t they?”
Good point, they’ll be wearing the video camera mounted in a Fourth of July lapel pin like this one.”
Sam put her hand in her pocket and handed Kat hers. “Feeds from those cameras will be picked up by the rest of these computers. As the agents reach their sectors their video feed will show up in a frame on the monitors.”
There was a knock on the trailer door. It was Hank.