Muffled Echoes

by G. K. Parks

  “Fine.” That annoying sinking feeling returned to the pit of my stomach. “We found one restaurant and five potential terrorists. What if it’s bigger than we think?”

  “Then we’ll find the rest.” Jablonsky went to the door. “Shade isn’t al-Qaeda, Hezbollah, or even ISIS. It’s a rinky-dink operation with some shitheads that want to be big and bad. Disbanding them shouldn’t be that difficult, so don’t psych yourself out.”

  “They killed a cop. They’re not afraid of consequences.”

  “I’ll make sure everyone keeps that in mind,” Jablonsky promised, heading out of the office to pass word along to Tinsley.

  Twenty-nine

  The five employees had been brought to the precinct for questioning. They were being held in separate interrogation rooms, secluded from one another and forced into complete radio silence. A few had squawked about their right to make a phone call and to speak to an attorney, but we were keeping them on ice for the time being. Jablonsky had kept me busy with secretarial duties. I’d phoned various members of the task force to update them on our progress. Then I spent another couple of hours on the phone with Davenport, Ridley, Lucca, and Cooper, making sure that Jablonsky and the PD weren’t left in the dark on the OIO’s recent developments. Agent Parker, switchboard operator, at your service.

  I went to the fax machine in the corner of Tinsley’s office and picked up the information on Pepper’s delivery trucks. The restaurant had several different suppliers, giving us four potential companies to track. Cooper and a few of the other agents were working to crack that angle, so a team had been sent to each trucking company. They would determine which drivers delivered to Pepper and then drag those individuals in for questioning. Since we didn’t have the names yet, we couldn’t compile any profiles. It was just a matter of waiting.

  “Parker,” Jablonsky said, stepping into the office, “I just spoke to Behr. Given what we don’t know, he’s ordered that the evidence from Pepper be taken into custody. He’s afraid that securing the restaurant isn’t enough to prevent the terrorists from trying to gain access to their weaponry.”

  “Where the hell are they going to put it?” I asked. Numerous crates loaded with weapons weren’t the easiest things to move. Granted, I’d seen bigger busts, but safety and security were at issue. The movement of that much evidence would require a lot of additional support. “Who’s taking possession?”

  “The police department performed the initial search. It’s theirs for the time being. We’ll worry about the rest later.” He glanced at the notepad I’d been using to keep track of our agents. “At least we won’t have to reassign anyone to get this done.”

  “I guess not.” The tension was making me antsy. “Have you spoken to any of our suspects yet?”

  “Yeah, and I’m not convinced that we have the facts straight.” He picked up one of Donaldson’s notepads. “I’m gonna ask Evers if there are any transcripts from the detective’s communications with Ivan.”

  “I doubt it. Evers said Donaldson was paranoid about his CI’s safety. He wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize it.”

  “But he took you to speak to his CI inside the lion’s den.” Mark shut the door to ward off eavesdroppers. “Does that make any sense to you?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.” I had but not in practical terms. I bit my lip. “Donaldson must have thought the threat was too great. He wanted me to see the place and the people. He wanted Ivan to put faces to the names and aliases he’d been informing on, but it was a risk.”

  “Ivan was already compromised even though no one knew it at the time. Did Donaldson express any concerns or give any indication of how that might have happened?”

  “No, but I’m guessing someone overheard Ivan talking or saw him texting or something,” I considered it for a few minutes, “unless they were using Ivan to pass word along to make sure the police stayed in the dark. But why would they kill Ivan if he was giving the cops misinformation?”

  “He knew too much,” Mark speculated, “or they weren’t positive of his betrayal until Donaldson showed up at Pepper. Maybe they thought Ivan brought the cops there to make arrests or search the place.”

  A thought crossed my mind. “I don’t know how Ivan and Donaldson ended up inside the kitchen. By the time I was taken to the back, Donaldson was already restrained and Ivan was being beaten.” I swallowed. “Do you think Ivan knew about the stash and had taken Donaldson to see it?”

  “That could be, but it’s pointless to theorize unless it’s noted somewhere or buried in a recording or transcript.”

  “The bulk of Ivan’s information was against Pepper’s employees. Someone inside that restaurant must have wanted to know how much Ivan knew and who he had told.”

  “According to Donaldson’s records, we have a busboy and waitress dealing coke. We have the cooks in the back taking part in gang activity, and we have the assistant manager who was bringing in shipments of something. It sounds like drug trafficking for a cartel, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded. That’s how it read. That’s how Donaldson read it. Shit, that was how Tinsley read it too. “Are we certain that Shade isn’t working for a cartel or starting their own drug empire?”

  “They don’t have a supply line. They can’t be a cartel. They could be middlemen, but what’s the incentive for a cartel to funnel through them?”

  “Maybe Shade is supplying the cartel with weapons in exchange for some of their product,” I suggested.

  “The barter system doesn’t normally work long-term with drug dealers,” Mark replied. “Eventually, they want more than tail.” He sat behind Tinsley’s desk and flipped through the pages that the OIO had sent over. “You said Shade was a terrorist cell. You were one of the first agents assigned to gather information, so it’s your call, Alex. What do you think?”

  “I think we underestimated them. They’re here. They have a plan. They have leadership. They’re organized. They’re armed, or at least they were.” My mind backtracked to the incident on the off-ramp. “What we found inside Pepper is probably a drop in the bucket.” I shuddered at the thought. “I need to start over. We need to figure out what their mission is and the kind of rhetoric they’ve been spouting. We need to identify their target.” Jakov’s words were now a haunting threat. “They have something planned, and it’s already in motion.”

  “Call Director Kendall and have him put every spare agent on this. We need the assault team questioned again. If they still won’t talk, we’ll make them. We need to break Jakov, and we need more eyes to comb over what we’ve already gathered. Ask the director to have our analysts and forensic psychologists review everything,” Jablonsky ordered, marching toward the door. “In the meantime, I’m gonna get answers.”

  He slammed the door behind him, and I made the call. Afterward, I sat in the stillness, wondering what I’d missed. How did we end up here when a few hours ago we didn’t realize things were nearly this bad?

  I had read through everything concerning Shade and Niko Horvat, and my priority had been tracking their movements in the Balkans. The extra activity triggered an alert, and I’d passed it along the pertinent channels. Then I’d taken it a step further and sought help from the police department. However, not once did I bother to figure out potential targets. Our sources said that Shade was isolated and small. They didn’t have the manpower or resources to launch an attack, at least not one in the United States, but it looked like we might be wrong.

  Performing an internet search, I bookmarked everything I could find posted about Shade. Then I dialed Davenport and had her guide me through what I needed to do in order to access the dark web, correctly figuring the crime lab tech had picked up a few extra skills here and there. The dark web was a place that I rarely ventured. Normally, if we needed that type of access for a case, a former hacker now a federal techie would surf through the depraved underbelly and hand over the relevant information. However, my usual go-to, Agent Lawson, was busy, as was the rest of the
cybercrime division, so I was on my own since everyone else had more important roles to fulfill. It was a good thing I hadn’t taken Lucca’s advice to sit this one out or else who would have ample time to search the darkest recesses of the hidden internet to unearth terrorist plots? Damn, my life was turning into a cheesy spy novel. I just needed to bed a sexy double agent and get captured by the enemy and interrogated. Oh wait, I had basically done the latter, but Martin wouldn’t be too keen on the former.

  After scanning through the data, chatting with a few dark web hackers and getting responses to my questions that didn’t resemble English or any language I’d ever heard, I dialed Davenport again. “Hey, Sasha,” I said, “I’m out of my depth. Why the hell isn’t this thing more user friendly?”

  “It’s the dark web. It’s meant for those computer junkies with mad skills,” she responded.

  “Yeah, not me. I think I might have found someone that’s offered to help, but I don’t know what this means.” I read the illogical pattern of numbers and letters to her. “Any thoughts?”

  “Repeat that,” she said, this time writing it down. “It’s an address. Give me a sec.” After a minute, she returned to the line. “It’s a hidden site.” She started to explain how the picture contained information and after entering a specific sequence of keys, it led to a log-in page that required a username and password, but I was getting more frustrated by the moment. “Look, I can probably crack it, or one of the guys upstairs can. It’ll just take some time. Is this a priority?”

  “I don’t know. Shade is a priority, and I’m hoping to pinpoint a list of their potential targets. It appears they might have a larger following than we thought. There could be sleepers positioned anywhere, or I’m just a paranoid lunatic.”

  “We’re all paranoid lunatics when it comes to national security and terrorist plots. It’s why things are the way they are. We live in a post-911 world. We try to make the best of it, but the only way to save lives is to thwart plans. This will be first on our list after we get everything done for the director. I’ll call you back when we’ve broken into the site.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No sweat, Alexis.”

  With nothing else to do, I went back to the list of bookmarked websites. If Shade was anything like most organizations, recruitment was a top priority, and since they had physical weapons and hadn’t unleashed any known cyber attacks, I didn’t believe their membership was open only to the world’s most elite computer junkies. They must have their mission statement and information readily available somewhere.

  Most pages I discovered were obscure news articles listing new and upcoming threats with no real information or sources. Obscure mentions and footnotes were all the media provided. Numerous law enforcement websites had issued warnings and cautionary statements, but I’d read through this jargon before. It was just like the warning memos that DHS distributed. The majority of the threats never panned out, and for that, I was grateful. However, reading similar statements from various government organizations and official policing sites did nothing but waste precious time.

  Finally, after typing in numerous search parameters which often led to window treatments, some unknown garage bands, and information concerning the dangers of unprotected exposure to sunlight, I came across a message board. It was a simple type and post system that didn’t require user verification or any type of credential. The design was basic, cheap, and would deter most people who were looking for the more common searches for Shade. The fact that the website wasn’t in English probably aided matters.

  Downloading a translator key, I ran the site through the software and copied down the link. After forwarding it to the OIO’s techs, I read through the rough translation. Without usernames, it was impossible to tell who posted the comments. The IP addresses were encrypted into the page, so I’d need someone to run them in order to acquire the posters’ actual identities. Sending off a quick text to my favorite tech guy, Agent Lawson, I hoped he could help a girl out. Feeling as if the ball was rolling on a new front, I read the words.

  One of the posters frequented the site more than the others. He used typical inflammatory language that would incite anger and urge readers to a call to action. I suspected that it probably belonged to Niko Horvat or one of Shade’s other higher-ups. The message board provided a brief overview of Shade, boasting that it wasn’t a hierarchy and that all were equal. No one should be subjugated or forced to conform to ridiculous radical notions. Pot meet kettle, I thought before forcing my internal dialogue into silence. The ranting went on to speak out against every major nation of the Western world. Democracy was a lie. It was an excuse that the democratic nations used in order to control the smaller, weaker countries. Money was key, and by exuding monetary influence and power, the West would use its various police forces and military to conquer the poorer nations, strip them of their resources, and destroy millions of lives, extinguish rich cultures, and otherwise annihilate the current world order. Shade wanted to put a stop to that. It encouraged others to join and stand up to the oppressor. From the rhetoric, it made every Western nation sound like 1940s Germany.

  While the world had a lot of problems, I liked to believe that it wasn’t as sinister as Shade made it sound. The truth was Shade was relying on cult mentality. It pointed to problems and offered a solution. This garnered followers because people wanted to feel as if they could take control of things that were beyond their capabilities. Whoever posted these messages had done a nice job to point out various incidents to twist the truth in order to gain additional support.

  After suffering through the incessant large-scale bitching, the focus of the posts switched to tactics to infuse oneself into the system in order to destroy it from the inside out. There was a metaphor to a virus destroying the host from the inside, but I didn’t believe that Shade intended to use biological warfare. They weren’t suicidal like a lot of groups. They lacked a religious element, meaning that promises of rewards in the afterlife weren’t part of the package.

  The focus of Shade was to improve the here and now. Hell, at times, it sounded like they might have gotten a political campaign speechwriter to help bolster support. However, they didn’t want to improve life for everyone, just the few who had been displaced due to wars, disasters, political persecution, and dissolution of nation-states. It was an issue that many in various regions of the world had faced, but for Shade’s purposes, the focus was on the Balkans. That’s how they gained support.

  Continuing reading through the back and forth, Shade seemed to have an axe to grind with the United States due to our interference throughout the 1990s. While to some that might seem like ancient history, to the members of Shade, it was how they lost parents and family. The wars in that region were horrific. Despite the fact that there were numerous claims of genocide, from what I recalled, the International Court said that there wasn’t enough evidence to prove it in several cases. But that much destruction and hatred often lead to a backlash. So even decades later, the echoes of the past continued to shape the present.

  Niko, or whoever the primary poster was, wanted someone to blame. He decided the fault lay with the Western world. The countries with power. The ones that stepped in to help but somehow failed him personally. After all, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. And from the feel of his words and the limited size and resources of Shade, this felt like a personal vendetta or a perceived slight that someone wanted to air on a grand scale.

  The good news was that I didn’t think we were dealing with a giant terror organization. We were most likely dealing with a small group of individuals with adequate resources, probably a few million in total, that hoped to expand their monetary reach in order to inflict the most damage as quickly as possible. I kept reading, but it didn’t sound like they had settled on a target. The United States as a whole was far too large and out of their reach, and it didn’t sound like our current officeholders were a focal point for Shade’s vengeance.

  The m
ain poster was pissed at the soldiers that failed his family. I considered military outposts, bases, training facilities, and other typical targets, but military intelligence, both domestic and foreign, was normally outstanding. They didn’t know of any threats. No, whatever Shade planned was an isolated attack. It was personal which meant that this could be worked like any other case. Once I had the identity of the poster, we could go through his history, determine his motive, and that would lead to determining Shade’s target. Despite the claims, this wasn’t an organization with equality for all; this was one man, or a select few, hell-bent on getting revenge.

  While I skimmed through the rest of the message board posts, I dialed Agent Lawson again. I needed verification that Shade was being run by Niko before I could do anything else. Before the phone connected, the building shook with a reverberating boom.

  Thirty

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, peering into the hallway at the police officers who acted like a reverberating boom was commonplace.

  “Water delivery,” a detective offered from the bullpen. “Paolo drops the hand truck every time. Dumbass kid.” He rolled his eyes.

  I shifted my gaze to the elevator at the end of the corridor where a young man was struggling to get two large water bottles back onto the fallen dolly. A uniformed officer was helping him, but before the bungee cord was secured, the lower bottle rolled to the left. The elevator doors started to close, banging against the sides of the bottle. Apparently, this was the usual comedy relief that the officers enjoyed. However, I was not amused.