Gabriel (Guardian Defenders Book 1)

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Gabriel (Guardian Defenders Book 1) Page 9

by Kris Michaels


  Six identification kiosks were set up for employees. Employees were photographed, fingerprinted, and issued ID badges that allowed them entrance to the building and access only to those floors where they worked.

  The elevators were recoded, and without an emergency override, none except the executive elevator went above the twentieth floor. On that floor, four offices were converted to meet his needs. Secure computer data transmission links and the latest encryption devices for phones and camera equipment were staged and ready for installation.

  Craig knocked on the office doorjamb and continued in. “Okay, we have the last of the equipment opened and inventoried. The duress buttons have been installed in each room of the penthouse. We acquired a Joint Services Intrusion Detection System alarm panel, and all the alarms will be run to that point so we can monitor them at the desk out front. The alarm panel will also tell us if the telephone lines have been tampered with. Camera equipment goes up tomorrow morning. We have enough cable to run the monitors, but we should probably order more in case we find blank spots we hadn’t counted on. We’re setting up a checkpoint now in the lobby, and then we have a choke point here for the executive offices. Am I missing anything?”

  “No, that should do it. Go ahead and hit the hotel. You did good work considering you fought me tooth and nail on this case.”

  Craig moseyed in and sat down across from him. “You know I’d die for you, right?”

  The tone of his friend’s voice caused him to make some serious eye contact. Gabriel nodded. “And I for you.”

  “Then you also know I’m going to speak up when I think you are putting yourself at risk. This domestic arm you’ve been harping on for the last five years? I see disaster written all over it. We get into the FBI’s crosshairs, and they are going to look at your background and look hard.”

  He leaned forward. “They already have.”

  “Yeah, but you weren’t in their sandbox. They could figure shit out.”

  “They couldn’t, not even if you walked in the Director’s door and told him everything you knew. They couldn’t find a seam.”

  “But why take the chance?”

  “Because I can make an impact. I take the chance because while there will always be missions to run overseas, I can make an impact here, on American soil. What good is what I have access to if I don’t use it to make people’s lives better?” He threw his pen down on the table. “I refuse to consider a life where I am not making the world a better place.”

  “Selfless bastard.” Craig shook his head and laughed. “Okay, I tried. I tried to warn you. Remember that when the shit hits the fan. Okay?”

  “Duly noted.” He relaxed his shoulders. “You read the file I gave you?”

  “Yeah, that is totally fucked up by the way. How in the hell did this guy find her again?”

  “Delacroix is looking–”

  “That’s the detective?”

  “Right. He’s running some ideas down. Another question is why he disappeared for almost six years.”

  Craig crossed his leg and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Out of the country?”

  “A possibility. He could have been in a relationship, incarcerated, admitted to a psych ward, but there was a reason he wasn’t killing.”

  “Do you think he’ll start up again?”

  “He already did when he staged this attempt on Brenner. He killed a woman that looked like the Townsend woman two days before he abducted Brenner.”

  “How did he know where she’d be?”

  He leaned forward and rubbed his temples. “Every Monday and Thursday evening, she walks to the bakery down the street from this building and picks up a standing order for staff meetings.”

  “So, he was following her?”

  “We think so. The key is figuring out how he found her. New Orleans isn’t New York, but the city is a far fucking cry from Denver. Plus, the man was staging the kill to look exactly like the crime scene photo taken at the Denver scene.

  “Are you thinking this guy is connected?”

  “You mean like Mafia?” He hadn't considered that.

  “No, man, I mean like connected to law enforcement or one of the alphabet agencies.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not excluding anything at this point, but there are other ways to gain access to evidence.”

  “Like what?”

  “The press routinely requests information from cases. The Freedom of Information Act allows a citizen to request any public record.”

  “Yeah, but there are exclusions for law enforcement, right?”

  “For certain cases, but a cold case? Who knows? I’ve talked with our team heading to Colorado and asked them to look into that angle, as well as all the other avenues.”

  “So, we are doing the needle in the haystack thing.” Craig laced his fingers together over his stomach.

  “No, we are investigating. It’s a process.”

  “Okay, so my next question would be, how long are you going to keep this up? What happens if that guy goes underground again?”

  “I was forced to let this go six years ago. I’d gladly pay for twenty-four-hour-a-day security until Jacqueline Brenner dies of old age if it kept that bastard away from her.”

  “So, a long time.” Craig stood and stretched his arms over his head. “If this domestic thing is going to be a priority, maybe we should divide and conquer. I could handle overseas operations.”

  “That’s a thought. Once we restructure, we could look at that.”

  “Awesome. I’m better with terrorists, convoys, and armed conflicts.” Craig headed to the door.

  “Unfortunately, tomorrow you will be vetting the executives.” He chuckled when Craig made a gagging noise.

  “Shit, don’t remind me. I’m going to go find a bottle, a tub of ice and relax. Wanna join me?”

  “No, I’m going to work on a few things that Daisy called me to the carpet for not completing.”

  “Always tomorrow, man.”

  “Not if I want to live. I need to fax these signatures back to her by tomorrow morning. For a lady, she’s wicked mean.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Your secretary doesn’t like me.”

  “Do you think maybe that's your imagination?”

  Craig shook his head. “Impossible. I don’t have one. I’ll head out then.”

  “Enjoy, oh, and Craig? Thank you for looking out for me.”

  “Always, man. It’s what I do.”

  He glanced at the clock and picked up the receiver. Hopefully, he wouldn’t wake Deacon, but he promised the man an update.

  “Hello?” Deacon answered on the first ring.

  “Is now a good time to give you a rundown on the day?”

  “Yeah, Jackie is sleeping. Go ahead.”

  “Your building is secure. Added security measures such as detection, cameras, and elevator stops have been implemented. A running total of sixteen employees have been identified to your HR department due to information turned up during NCIC checks.”

  “Excuse me, what kind of checks?”

  “National Crime Information Check, it is the FBI’s database that law enforcement uses.”

  “I have sixteen criminals working for me?” Deacon hissed that question.

  “No, man, you have sixteen employees who have criminal information in the system. One I saw was a DWI from three years ago. Things like that. If there were actual criminals working for you, the police would have been contacted, not your HR department.”

  “That’s legal, then? You can run them?”

  “Yes, and we forwarded the information to your legal department so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. I haven’t met face to face with Nathan yet, but he’s been all over this. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “He was supposed to call, but he has his hands full with other things. Maggie called and has kept me in the loop for the most part. But you probably could care less about that. Please continue.”

  “I’m sure you feel disjoint
ed right now, but we’ll get you back here so you can plug back in. Your apartment is ready to receive the hospital equipment tomorrow morning. I have my people vetting your doctor and the nurse. Of course, I’ll have them sign non-disclosure agreements. You don’t want any information about Jackie getting out. You should be able to bring her home tomorrow night if the nurse passes the background check.”

  “She’ll pass. Any word on catching this bastard?” Deacon growled. His frustration, palpable and raw, traveled over the line.

  “We have several ideas, and we are working it. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but I promise you I will not stop until this bastard is behind bars.” Or dead. He wasn’t too sure he cared which at this point.

  “Yeah. Okay, it’s just that…”

  “I get it, believe me. I get it,” he reassured the man. “You get some sleep. We’ll be ready for you tomorrow afternoon. My people will be riding with both of you in the ambulance. Can we tell your employees not to be in the building after one in the afternoon?”

  “Doable. I’ll have Nathan rent some space at the hotel down the street for the teams that have to work. We have acquisitions that don’t hold to a nine-to-five schedule. If the hotel doesn’t have meeting rooms available, I’ll have him get a series of rooms for them to work in.”

  “That works. I’ll make sure Craig gets with Nathan to confirm that happens. When you wake up in the morning, one of my men will have replaced the NOPD uniform outside your door. He will be your escort here. No one will get close to you. The man is lethal.”

  “Good to know. Thanks.”

  “Get some sleep. You’ll be in your own bed tomorrow night.”

  “Thank God.” Deacon disconnected the line.

  Gabriel set the receiver on the hook and spun his chair toward the window. How had that motherfucker found Jackie?

  Chapter 10

  He watched the ambulance pull up to the front of the Longline building. The black privacy partitions that had been erected couldn’t hide the wheels of the stretcher being taken from the ambulance into the building.

  Two quarters dropped into the payphone, and he punched the numbers he’d memorized.

  “Tulane Medical Center, may I help you?”

  “This is Mitchell Brenner; my daughter Jacqueline Brenner is a patient. Would you connect me please?”

  “One minute, sir.”

  Two men in black suits watched the front of the building and glanced his way. He leaned against the payphone. As if they’d be able to catch him. They couldn't see him. The only thing they would accomplish was to delay the inevitable.

  “I am sorry, sir, there is no answer, let me connect you with the nurses’ station.”

  “Thank you so much.” He hung up the phone and wiped his fingerprints off the receiver before ambling down the street. He dropped his hands into his suit pockets and whistled a tune he’d heard on the radio that morning. He loved fucking with the pricks who thought they understood him. Patience was a virtue, after all, and he would track her, find his opening, and make the kill. He was done waiting. He’d given his prey a chance to recuperate, but as wounded as she was now, her death would be a mercy killing. She wouldn’t be difficult to kill. She’d frozen when he’d approached her in New Orleans. There was no thrill, no recognition of her fate. The woman’s comatose reactions were less than desirable. But there was sport to be had. The woman had protectors he’d have to eliminate and that made her death… interesting. He didn’t usually hunt men; perhaps it was time for a change.

  Gabriel walked down two flights of stairs and entered his newly minted command center. Jackie and Deacon had arrived about forty-five minutes ago. He’d been getting the camera systems online and hadn’t met them at the lobby, but his people had surrounded the couple. They were safe, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  His team was hopping behind the counter. One of his men handed him a folder when he entered and fell in beside him as he walked toward his office. “The hospital switchboard was called by someone claiming to be Brenner’s father. They documented it per our request. It was an outside line and happened right after the transfer. The operator said the caller was a male, polite, well-spoken, but when there was no answer in the room and she offered to transfer him to the nurses’ station, he disconnected. Sounds like a possible fishing expedition.”

  Damn it. A slither of rage laced his adrenaline spike. The bastard was looking for her. “Noted. Anything else?” He lifted the sitrep sheets and glanced at the missions from overseas. They were stretched thin, so damn thin. He needed to recruit more employees. As it stood now, he and Craig were going to have to go back into rotation if the Middle East didn’t settle down soon.

  “There is a homicide in the 9th Ward with our suspect’s MO. We have eyes on scene. Locals are cooperating thanks to Delacroix. He called and asked if you wanted to head over to the crime scene.”

  “Get me a car. Make sure McNair gets the overseas sitreps and tell him to pull assets from Europe to reinforce the teams in the Middle East.” He stopped and handed the file back. Hopefully, Craig could buy them some time. Maybe the current political strategy would work, and Gaddafi would stop baiting the United States.

  “A car is waiting out front. The driver has the address, and I’ll make sure Mr. McNair gets this information.”

  He reversed direction and headed to the front of the building. The ride to the 9th Ward was quick, quiet, and efficient. He strode up to the crime scene and was stopped by a uniform. “I’m here at Detective Delacroix’s request.”

  The uniformed officer glanced back at the collection of people. “Detective Delacroix?”

  Remí stood up and waved Gabriel over. “I got the call on this one about an hour ago. I’ve asked the medical examiner not to move the body until you got here. The FBI agents on scene were getting pissy about that until I mentioned your name. May I ask who in the hell you know?”

  “Kenneth Southerland; we’ve worked on several situations.”

  “Should I be impressed? Who is he?”

  “Deputy Director at this point, but I have little doubt he’ll take the helm when Webster retires.” Several heads turned his way. The FBI agents, no doubt. He nodded at them, and they returned the acknowledgment over the dead woman’s body.

  Gabriel’s gut clenched. “This looks like his work, but her arms are wrong. One hand is over her stomach, and the other beside her. If this is our killer, the hands should be one on top of the other. He poses them. The only crime scene he didn’t was Denver where he was interrupted. Was she moved?”

  “The patrol said the guy who found her moved her arm. He made sure to note that in his initial report to us.” Delacroix stood with his hands on his hips, staring down at the woman.

  “I’ll need a copy of everything. Medical examiner’s report, evidence, her background.”

  “No problem, but Agent Harvey over here has some information you might want to hear.”

  He stood and waited for the agent to cross to him.

  “Mr. Gabriel, we had direction from Langley to give you carte blanche and to, I’m quoting here, ‘stay the fuck out of your way,’ but we were called in on this by the local PD. That’s why we are here.”

  “I called them. I followed protocol. I suspected this was tied to the other murders and that makes it FBI.” Delacroix stood up and crossed his arms as if he was waiting for blowback from him.

  “Thank you. I’m a stickler for procedure myself. I’m not going to interfere with your investigation.” He directed the last comment to the agents.

  “We appreciate that, but I wanted to run something by you. Delacroix here said you believed this guy had six years of inactivity.”

  He nodded and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s correct. As far as we can determine, there haven’t been any other murders matching his MO.”

  Agent Harvey pursed his lips and shook his head. “None reported, but I’ve seen this crime scene before. In Mississippi.”


  He dropped his arms. “When and where?”

  “Just over the state line. The sheriff called for an assist because the woman wasn’t local and nobody knew who she was or how to contact next of kin. They have limited resources over there. He reached out to the FBI office in Jackson, Mississippi. Those agents called us for an assist. An hour’s drive for us, or three and a half hours for them. We took it. The sheriff was damn good in his investigation. The crime scene photos he had were almost an exact duplicate of this. Same pose, same injuries, exsanguination, same violation.”

  “Do you have those photos?”

  “No, we took prints and got an ID. The woman was from Iowa, and no one knows how or why she showed up in rural Mississippi. I do have the contact information for the sheriff.”

  “Excellent. Could you get that to me?” He reached into his pocket and extracted a business card.

  “Sure, but this incident got me and my partner thinking. What if this guy didn’t stop for six years? What if he’s been killing in rural areas? Do you think he’d be smart enough to limit his kills to the jurisdictions without access to computer databases or the resources to connect the dots?”

  He nodded. “It is possible and a damn good theory.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his home office in D.C.

  “Operator Two Seven Four.”

  “This is Alpha. Put a call through to Kenneth Southerland. Ask him to call my mobile phone. This is a priority request.”

  “Affirmative, Alpha.”

  He flipped the phone shut.

  “Do you recall if there were any defensive marks on the Mississippi victim’s arms?”

  “I don’t. As I said, we were assisting as a courtesy to the sheriff. The case wasn’t on our radar.”

  “How long ago was this assist?”

  “Shit… maybe six months?” He glanced at his partner who shook his head.

 

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