Chapter
8
0500
Hours, 31 October
At
0500 a young second lieutenant was leaning on an empty stool at the bar. It was located next to a very busy crap table in
the Imperial Palace Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip.
He was keeping an eye on a short, bulky man who was rolling the dice.
“Major
Fellows, I’ve located the target, but you won’t believe where I found it,”
the young lieutenant informed his superior on his miniature communications unit. The major’s voice came through loud and
clear into the lieutenant’s earpiece, requesting the location.
“Would
you believe--the crap table in the back of the Imperial Palace Casino?” The lieutenant listened, and then replied,
“Yes, Sir. I’m sure. Yes, Sir. I’ll
maintain contact.” With that, the young
man sat on the stool and took on the appearance of just another tourist who was watching a
hot craps game in progress, as he waited for the rest of the team to show up.
When
the major and the rest of the team arrived, Lieutenant Petri nonchalantly walked over to
him and identified the short burly man. They
confirmed that the man was indeed carrying the TDSC/ID stone. As the rest of the team deployed to various areas
surrounding the craps table, Major Fellows exited the casino to report and get orders on
how to proceed. The current package was
obviously not what they were supposed to find, and he needed to know what steps he and his
team were to take next. After an interval of
only one minute, his call was transferred directly to Colonel Peterson.
“Colonel
Peterson,” Dean said answering the phone while checking her watch. She noted it was 0930 in D.C., and then mentally
calculated the time difference for Vegas.
“Colonel,
this is Major Vince Fellows. I’m the
officer in charge of the intelligence unit in Vegas.
General Carlton’s office put me through to your line to get orders on what to
do next.” The major paused, waiting for
Dean to reply.
“Is
the package still in the crate?” Dean asked.
“No,
Colonel. That’s the problem. The TDSC/ID stone is now in the possession of a
man at one of the craps tables at the Imperial Palace Casino,” he informed her.
“Say
again, Major,” Dean ordered.
“The
TDSC/ID stone is not, I repeat, not in the package. It
is in the possession of a man playing craps.” The
major waited for Colonel Peterson’s reply.
“Damn
it!” The colonel swore into the phone. “How in Hades did he get it?”
“We
do not have that answer, Colonel. That’s
why I’m calling. What do you want us to
do now that we’ve located it?” The major requested his orders once more.
“See
if you can find out how he got it. I need to
know if it was found by the owners of the package, or what the circumstances were.” Dean thought a moment longer before adding,
“But do it in a way that won’t draw suspicion.”
“Yes,
Ma’am,” the major acknowledged. “We
have a female trainee with us. We’ll see
if she can get the information.”
“Good
thought, Major. Let me know as soon as you
can,” Dean ordered, then gave Fellows her office extension. She turned to inform Katie and Lieutenant Jarvis
of the situation.
Major
Fellows returned to the casino and pulled Lieutenant Tina Wilson aside, giving her
instructions on what information was needed. They
discussed possible ploys and decided that since she was familiar with the game, she would
join the table if a space became available next to the target. If not, they would wait it out until he left the
table and proceed with a second option.
After
forty-five minutes, a space did open next to the man who now carried the ID chip, and
Lieutenant Wilson quickly replaced the man who vacated it.
She threw a one hundred dollar bill down on the table and waited for her chips. The game was currently in progress with a shooter
two spaces to the right of her target. It was
very lively at the table, and there was quite a bit of betting going on between rolls. She smiled at her mark as she picked up her
chips, and asked him how the table was running today.
“Oh,
baby! It’s been great to me. I started with just five hundred and I’m up
by two thousand now!” He offered his
comments eagerly after appraising the beautiful young woman, then reached for his drink
resting on the beverage rail below the table’s main railing.
Yeah,
bud. Keep the booze flowing, and you’ll be losing that edge quickly,
the young lieutenant thought to herself, as she placed her bets on the six, eight, and
field. The game continued, and before the
shooter crapped out, Lieutenant Wilson was up by forty-two dollars. The next shooter didn’t last long at all,
crapping out on the third roll. It was now
her target’s turn. Before he chose his
dice, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a gemstone that she recognized as
the TDSC/ID stone. He rubbed it in his hands
first, then replaced it in his pocket before selecting his dice.
On
his first throw, he rolled a seven, earning him twenty-five dollars on his pass line bet. The next throw was an eleven, earning him the
same winnings.
Lieutenant
Wilson smiled at the man and asked, “You’re pretty lucky. Was that your good luck charm you held
before?”
“Yeah,
baby -- been givin’ me good dice all night!” the man responded as he threw the
dice the third time, rolling an eight. “Ohhh
baby, I love them eights!” the man cried out as the table became lively with betting.
“I’ve
never seen a stone like that before. Have you
had it long?” she asked, smiling warmly at him.
“Nah,
just got it today, or actually, more like yesterday.
But as soon as I got it, I knew it would bring me luck!” He reached in his pocket, pulled out the stone and
gave it a kiss. After returning the stone to
his pocket, he picked up the dice and threw.
“Nine!” The stick man called out as his table crew paid
out the winners.
The
guy pulled the stone out again and went through his ritual before returning it to his
pocket. Then he place a hundred dollar bet on
the hard eight, picked up the dice and threw again.
“Hard
eight!” shouted the stick man as the crowd around the table hooted and cheered.
“See
what I mean, baby!” The stubby man
smiled and laughed as they paid him his nine to one odds on the “hard way” bet
and his pass line winnings. “I’ve
been hot all night!”
Lieutenant
Wilson flinched internally at the chauvinistic ‘baby’ comments, but oozed charm
as the man reached down for his drink once more. Maybe
if he has enough to drink we’ll be able to liberate the stone from him. She caught Major Fellows slipping into the next
opening at the table. Just then, the cocktail
waitress came by asking for orders. The target placed his for another bourbon on the
rocks, and turned to ask the young lieutenant what she wanted. Well, I might as well play along, she
thought then said, “Make mine scotch,” and then, “thanks” to the man
at her side. “My name’s Veronica,
by the way,” she added with a seductive smile.
“Bart,”
the man replied, smiling eagerly at the young woman.
“Maybe when I’m finished here, we could go someplace nice and quiet. Just the two of us,” he added before taking
out the stone once more and giving it a very sensual kiss while watching for her reaction.
“Maybe,”
she replied, while thinking, Yeah, the two of us, and my entire team! As she reached down and placed her bet, he slid
his hand down and over her buttocks. It took
everything in her power to keep from hauling off and flattening the guy right there. Prick! Why
do some men have to be such jerks? The
major, catching the motion, gave the young lieutenant a cautionary look, and she smiled in
response.
Play
at the table lasted nearly two more hours before Bart was sufficiently inebriated to be
led away by Tina, with her team close behind. It
was now 0900 Las Vegas time, and she knew the information about the stone had to be
relayed back to D.C. as soon as possible. She
led him into one of the empty side lounges and had to put up with his pawing until she
could get him situated in the booth. She knew
she’d have to work fast before the burly man passed out from the fifteen plus
bourbons he had consumed since she came on the scene.
So far she found out he worked for the railroad at Grand Central Station loading
freight trains. He’d taken a train to
Chicago to meet his brother, and then the two of them flew to Vegas for their annual
boys-weekend-out.
“So,
Bart. You said you just got that stone
today?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Uh,
yeah, um, at the train station,” he said in a very slurred voice.
“Train
station? In Chicago or New York?” she
reached out and slid her hands up and down his chest.
“Umm...
nuh uh, in the city. Grand Central fucking
Station!” he smiled as she continued her massage of his chest. “Ya wanna fuck now?” he suggested with a
wobble of his head and a barely discernable wink.
“In
a little bit.” She involuntarily paused,
not wanting to consider the prospect of having to go to his room with him. “Did someone give it to you?”
Bart
just raised his drunken head, eyebrows furrowed in question. “Who d’ya say gived it ta me? You gived it to me?” He paused, trying to blink himself awake. “C’mon… let’s go fuck!” His head wobbled back and rested on the booth. Heavy breathing indicated he’d soon be out
cold.
“C’mon
Bart, I just wanna get one of those lucky stones, too,” Tina suggested.
“Nope.
Nope. Can’t,” Bart said, starting to go under.
“Why
not?” she crooned in his ear once more.
“’Cause
it was just layin’ there, no more, just it, layin’…” Then he was out
for the count, and she gently laid him down on the booth bench.
Lieutenant
Wilson signaled the team to enter the lounge while she removed the stone from his pocket. As Major Fellows entered, she handed him the stone
and informed him how Bart came to be the owner of it.
“At least it looks like it was just found at Grand Central Station,” she
recapped. “So whatever was being
tracked, it must have just come loose from the source.”
“Looks
that way,” Fellows replied. “Good
work, Lieutenant.” The Major sent one of
the recruits to find a security guard and bring him back to the lounge. When the guard arrived, the major told him the
man on the lounge bench was a big winner at the craps table, and had also had a bit much
to drink. He suggested that the hotel find a
room for the man to sleep it off before he was rolled for his winnings right there in the
lounge. The security guard called in to his
supervisor, who immediately sent several men to the lounge to pick him up and settle him
in a complimentary room for the day.
“That
was a pretty nice thing you did for that guy,” Lieutenant Wilson commented as the
team left the hotel.
“Yeah,
well, I didn’t want to see the poor slob get taken advantage of just because
he’d passed out.” The major
shrugged his shoulders while memories of his Dad replayed in his mind. He could remember
many occasions when his dad came home empty-handed on payday, having slept it off in some
gutter behind the local tavern. “Right
now, let’s get this information back to D.C.”
As soon as they entered the van, the major relayed the information to Dean’s
office number. It was now 0930 in Las Vegas.
*
* * * *
Dean
had been pacing her office or rocking in her leather chair since the 0930 phone call from
Major Fellows. When the phone finally rang at
1330, Dean picked it up on the first ring. “Yes,”
she answered simply, “what have you got?”
After
a short conversation, Dean hung up the phone, satisfied that the errant stone wasn’t
a plant, but just an accident. “Well, at
least we know we aren’t compromised. The
damned thing must have shaken itself loose and fallen through the slats in the crate. Evidently, the guy found the stone at Grand
Central Station in New York, where he works loading shipments. He found it lying on the side of the track.”
“But
now we don’t know where the shipment went,” Katie commented.
“No,
but we’ll get another crack at it next week. Our
final chance, so we’ll have to do it right,” Dean answered. “Bill, make sure we have several tracking
devices available in the van for the next trip to the warehouse.”
“But,
what if they check the crates before shipping?” Bill asked.
“We’ll
just have to plant them after the shipping containers are loaded, after the workers
leave,” the colonel responded with a wry smile.
*
* * * *
Roger
Golding sat comfortably in his Falls Church home sipping a glass of Glenlivet on the rocks
and listening intently to the caller on his phone. As
he swirled the amber liquid, he nodded occasionally to comments made on the other end of
the line.
When
it was his turn to speak, he assured the caller that all was well on his end, and the
final pieces for the radar array would be coming in the next shipment that was scheduled
to go out on Friday.
“Yes,
Scott. The warehouse is receiving goods
daily. By this Friday, all of our orders
will have arrived, and we can conceal the final pieces for the radar array.” He smiled as the liquid loosened the tight muscles
in his neck. “It’s too bad you had
to leave the country so fast.” Roger
flashed back to the near miss in driving the Lyons’ car off the road permanently. Too bad that SUV had to intervene, or we could
have put an end to that little British pest.
“Yeah,
well there’s nothing we can do about that now,” came the reply from the other
end of the line. “Look, Rog, these final
parts are crucial. We can’t let anything
happen to this last shipment. It took me an
entire year to assemble all the parts for the Ares array without anyone noticing, and to
replace these by our deadline now would be nearly impossible.” Scott’s Gentry’s voice registered a very
serious tone. “As it is, it’s going
to take most of the remaining time to assemble the final product at the base.”
“Yeah,
the combined forces exercises are due to start November 12th. Are you sure you’ll have enough time to put
it all together?” Roger inquired. “Saddam
won’t pay off the rest unless we get the job done.”
“I’m
sure. Besides, our plan won’t be put
into motion until the final week of the exercises. You
just make sure I get the rest of those parts on time.
It takes a good deal of time to get them transported secretly to the base once they
arrive in Freeport,” he answered brusquely.
“Isn’t
there a better way of sneaking on that old base without being seen?” Roger
questioned.
“No. This way is foolproof,” Scott responded. “The chances of anyone finding our secret
entrance are one in a million.”
“Yeah,
but that scientist stumbled onto it. What if
someone else does?” the man countered.
“Then
he’ll be taken care of in the same way!” Scott said laughing. “Nitrogen narcosis is very painful and can
happen to the most seasoned diver.”
“Especially
when his tank is doctored with a little supplement of nitrogen gas,” Roger agreed,
joining in the laughter.
*
* * * *
Chapter
9
0900
Hours, 1 November
“That
should do it.” Dean looked up at her two
partners as she folded the map detailing the location of the three surveillance teams
watching the warehouse. “Now we need to
just sit tight and see what turns up.”
“Colonel,
now that we’ve found Golding’s home, shouldn’t we set up a surveillance
unit there, too?” Lieutenant Jarvis suggested.
“It
wouldn’t hurt. I doubt if he’d be
stupid enough to have any of his contraband hidden at his home.” Dean thought about the suggestion a bit more. “But, maybe we’ll get lucky and
intercept some information. Go ahead and do
it.”
“Yes,
Ma’am. Right on it!” the young
lieutenant responded, stood, and left the office to set up the unit.
“Are
we still going to go in and take another look around tonight?” Katie asked as she
checked the computer for updates on their list of mercenaries.
“Yeah. I’d like to get in and do a more thorough
search before the warehouse fills again,” Dean commented. “At least we can skip the crate searches
since they make the additions the night they load.”
Katie
looked up from the computer shaking her head. “You
know, it’s really weird how we haven’t been able to find hide nor hair of any of
the guys on our list since the night of the Lyons’ accident. Except for Roger Golding, every report has been
negative since then. Like they all went to
ground.”
“I
know what you mean. Maybe Gentry was afraid
he was recognized and sent them under. At
least we found Golding. He’s got to be a
key player if he’s in charge of the smuggling effort.
They probably had to leave him here to finish the job.”
Katie
nodded her head in agreement, then asked, “Is Bill going with us tonight?”
“Yes. I thought it would be a good idea to have the
three of us there. We can cover more ground
that way, and besides, Bill’s really turning into an excellent field officer. He’s bright, observant, and can think on his
feet extremely well, plus, he’s as loyal as they come,” Dean answered with an
air of pride.
“Yeah,
I like him too,” the agent replied, winking and smiling as the color rose in her
partner’s cheeks. “He’s kinda
like the brother I never had.”
“Or
the little brother I once did,” Dean answered wistfully, as she turned to stare out
her window.
Katie
sensed the emotion running through her lover and reached out, giving Dean’s arm a
gentle squeeze, remembering the tale of Dean’s brother’s tragic death. “Are you okay?” she asked, as she felt
the tension in Dean’s arm.
“Yeah.” Dean sniffed, then turned back to Katie and gave
her a crooked smile. “I’m
okay.” Sighing, she added, “How
about we take a break for lunch?”
“Food! All right! I
thought you’d forgotten about lunch,” Katie replied enthusiastically, as she
quickly stood, heading for the door. She was
just about to turn the knob when Dean’s intercom came to life, stopping her in her
tracks. She turned to watch as Dean
responded, flipping the talk button. “Colonel
Peterson,” Dean drawled. On the other
end was Sergeant Major Tibbits relaying the general’s order for their presence in her
office, immediately.
“I
wonder why?” Katie inquired.
“Generals
don’t have to give you a reason, Katie, but I’d imagine it’s about Art and
Gwen.” She smiled at the young woman as
Katie held the door open for her, and they headed down the hall to the general’s
office.
As
they entered, Sergeant Major Tibbits greeted them with a smile. He stood and opened the door for them. “The general is expecting you.”
“Thank
you, Sergeant,” Dean said warmly as she entered the office first and proceeded to
where the general was sitting on the couch.
“At
ease, Colonel,” General Carlton ordered before Dean could go through the normal
report protocol. “Have a seat.” She indicated the chairs across from her. As Dean and Katie sat, General Carlton began
speaking.
“How
is the investigation going?” She eyed
Dean, then Katie. Dean spoke first, bringing
the general up to date on the current situation--including the elusive TDSC tracking stone
that found its way to Las Vegas, and the training team’s successful retrieval.
“Thanks
for allowing us to use the training team. They
did a commendable job,” Dean reported.
“Yes
they did. It turned out to be a good
practical exercise for them, too. Major
Fellows is a very competent training officer,” Mary commented before continuing. “So where do we stand now?”
“We’re
waiting for another call from Golding to call ‘Maria’ to work,” Katie
offered. “And we have three teams on
warehouse surveillance right now, tracking the incoming shipments.”
“What
ever became of the first mercenary spotted at the warehouse?” The general paused, recollecting the man’s
name before speaking again. “I believe
his name was Stockton?”
“Yes,
Ma’am, Jerry Stockton. Now that’s a
real mystery. Our source stayed at the
warehouse until we were set up. He
didn’t see him leave the warehouse, but when we got there, we couldn’t detect
anyone in the place,” Dean recounted. “We assumed that he must have exited
another way or was missed by the street source, perhaps when he went to call it in to us. Anyway, when Katie and I entered the building,
there was no one in sight.”
The
general nodded before asking her next question. “And
Mr. Gaiyoz is behaving?”
“A
model citizen,” Katie replied confidently. “He’s
very interested in helping us -- now, and Floyd is keeping a tight rein on him until this
is all over.”
“Have
you had any break in determining what type of radar these mercenaries are going to
deploy?” came the general’s next question.
“No,
Ma’am. Not yet,” Dean informed
Mary. “We’re hoping to find out
more tonight. Lieutenant Jarvis, Katie, and
I, are going to do a more thorough job of checking out the warehouse.”
“Good,
but be careful. We don’t want them to
get wind of the fact that we’re watching them,” the general cautioned. “Now, Gwen has been doing her covert thing
with Art, and his meetings with his old MI 6 pals. Unfortunately,
most of the meetings were just with Art, while Gwen was occupied with their spouses, but
she did come up with some small tidbits of information.” Mary completed this comment by waggling her hand
in a ‘so-so’ motion. “It
seems MI 6 has been watching the comings and goings in Freeport of several mercenaries
that match the folks on our list. Unfortunately,
being an island, there are miles of shoreline that are not patrolled as diligently as the
airport or the cruise ship ports. There’s
no telling how many individuals are involved at this point, but the main island that seems
to be involved is Grand Bahama. It’s one
of the largest, yet has a very small population, and if these men are working off of boats
in the area…” She let the sentence trail off with a shrug of the shoulders. “Gwen also was able to find out that MI 6 is
concerned that this may have something to do with the joint exercises that are planned for
next month.”
“Excuse
me, General, but are you talking about the war games scheduled with Canada, Britain,
Australia, New Zealand, and the U.S.?” Dean asked.
“Exactly.” The general’s voice became more serious. “As you know, we’ve been planning these
exercises for nearly three years, and they will be taking place in both the Atlantic and
the Pacific, to test our combined forces’ readiness to respond to a threat. It’s been a massive undertaking that none of
the participating countries wants to see canceled or postponed.”
“Yes,
the intel projections estimate that our forces--including all the reserves--would be able
to respond fully within forty-eight hours of call-up,” Dean added for Katie’s
benefit.
“Wow,”
Katie uttered, “that’s quite an ambitious undertaking. I can see why MI 6 is concerned.”
“I’ve
been having daily sessions with the Joint Chiefs for weeks now, and I can tell you nothing
has ever been mentioned about any possible threats,” Mary added. Katie then asked why MI 6 didn’t inform the
Canadians and U.S. about the situation with the mercenaries. “From what Gwen gathered, they have nothing
concrete to go on, so they’re just watching the situation. They don’t want to jeopardize the exercises. If these mercenaries are deemed a threat, they
feel they are no match for our combined forces. Besides,
these men are on Bahamian soil. It’s
also a natural tourist spot, and it could all be just coincidence.”
“I’m
not buying that coincidence theory,” Dean said with a shake of her head.
“Neither
am I, Colonel, but that’s the official line right now.” The general stood and walked over towards her
desk, stopping in front of it and reaching for a sheet of paper. “I did a little checking on your accrued
vacation time, Colonel, and yours too, Agent O’Malley.
And I was wondering if you two would like to take a little vacation in the
Bahamas?” Mary asked the question as she replaced the sheet of paper on her desktop,
then turned around, leaning against the front of the desk.
“The official line prevents me from cutting you orders to go there since we
can’t prove it’s a clear and present danger.
Plus, it’s foreign soil. However,
I’m sure I could secure the assistance of the local authorities to allow you some
latitude in a discreet investigation. So once
again, I’m asking you to volunteer to do this, and you do have the option to say
no.” The general finished speaking as
she returned to her seat on the couch. “If
you need time to discuss this it’s not a problem, as long as I have an answer before
you leave today.”
Dean
looked over at Katie, each reading the thoughts of the other. Dean nodded, and turned towards the general. “I don’t think you’ll need to wait
that long, Mary. Our answer is yes. As a
matter of fact, we had been hoping to meet some friends of ours at their timeshare in
Freeport for the middle two weeks of November, until this case came up that is. I believe that we should stay with that plan and
appear to be just the typical vacationers on holiday,” Dean answered.
General
Carlton considered this for a moment then said, “I’m not sure I would want you
to involve anyone in a possibly dangerous situation.
Especially civilians.”
“Not
a problem, General,” added Katie. “The
friends we’re talking about provided invaluable help with the case in the Catskills. I’m sure we can count on their discretion and
maybe even minimal assistance, since they know the island well.”
“Would
these friends happen to be Tracy Kidd and Colleen Shore?” the general inquired, then
added, “I went over your report on the Kasimov case when I first came on board. Very impressive assistance by those two.”
“Yes,
Ma’am,” Dean acknowledged. “And
perhaps you remember Tracy from Ft. Leonard Wood?”
“As
a matter of fact, I do.” Mary nodded
with a wry look of amusement remembering the then-young Lieutenant Kidd. “If they agree to act only as island guides,
and to stay out of harm’s way, it might prove to be an adequate cover. In addition, Art and Gwen are returning to
Freeport tomorrow morning. They’ll be
staying with their friend Ned, from MI 6.” She
stopped and thought a bit longer. “I
think it’s time I have a conversation with Art tonight. I’m going to inform him about what you have
uncovered to date. I’m sure once he
realizes that we believe in his suspicions, he’ll be only too happy to help put you
in touch with his friends, should the need arise.”
The
general had Tibbits bring up lunch for them, so they could continue their conversation
without the interruption of the loud growling coming from Katie’s stomach. While they ate, the three women planned for
contingencies, and Dean drew up a list of items that would be helpful for the
investigation. Dean and Katie finally left
the general’s office after everything was checked and rechecked, requisitions made
for necessary equipment, and provisions put in place for that equipment to pass customs. By the time they were finished, it was nearly
1700, and they still needed to meet with Jarvis regarding the plans for that
evening’s operation.
*
* * * *
The
beat-up looking blue van was parked in its safe spot across from the warehouse by 2300. After checking in with the other two surveillance
teams, Dean did a scan of the building for signs of human inhabitants. Finding none, they checked their gear one more
time before embarking on their tour of the facility.
Dean was in the lead, heading for the alarm system while Bill and Katie covered her
actions. It took Dean less time to disarm
the security system the second time around. Once
that hurdle was crossed, they moved to the back of the warehouse to the loading dock.
“I
got a good look at the personnel door on the loading dock last week,” Dean commented
as she jumped up on the loading platform. “Just
give me a sec,” she said as she pulled out her lock picks. It took her a mere twenty seconds before the trio
was able to enter through the personnel entrance. Once
inside, they spread out to cover their assigned areas, according to the plan. Katie had the back of the warehouse, Bill the
front, and Dean had the office. There
weren’t as many crates and boxes this time around, so Bill and Katie were able to
keep each other within visual range while they looked for anything unusual. To Katie, it seemed like the same type of sundry
orders that were in the warehouse before: lots of cases of canned goods, cereals, coffee,
pasta, laundry supplies. Nothing seemed
unusual or out of the ordinary. After opening
several crates and boxes, Katie and Bill decided to take a closer look at the structure of
the warehouse.
Dean
had to use her picks to get into the office again. Once
inside, she began a systematic search of the desks, bookcases, trashcans, and finally the
file cabinets. Though the latter were also
locked, they were no match for Dean’s picking skills.
Everything was in order. Again, too
much order for a typical warehouse. Hmm,
there has to be more here than meets the eye. Dean
retraced her steps around the office, only this time doing a careful visual of the office
layout. Something’s just not right
here. Dean surveyed the office once more
then stepped outside, visually inspecting the office from that perspective. Aha! Gotcha! She mentally clapped her shoulder and quickly
reentered the office, stepping to the back wall. As
Katie and Bill entered the office, Dean was shining her high intensity flashlight on each
piece of furniture located on the back wall and the floor surrounding each, and then she
retraced her steps, tapping on the wall as she went.
“Find
something interesting?” Katie surmised
as she watched her partner.
“Yeah,
just haven’t found the key yet.” Dean
shrugged as she came to the end of the back wall once more.
“It’s probably right under my nose, only I don’t recognize it.”
“Ahh. Like that time in Mexico when you sat on that old
sofa in the hanger and thought it was just lumpy?” Bill offered with a smile.
“Yeah,
sorta like that,” Dean replied with a frown.
Katie
scrunched her eyebrows and looked from Bill to Dean and back. “So what was it?”
Bill
laughed and said, “The biggest Crotalas adamanteus you ever saw!”
“The
biggest what?” Katie asked, shaking her head in total confusion. “Mind translating that?”
“A
diamondback rattlesnake!” Bill informed her, still chuckling. “If it hadn’t been for the seat cushion,
and Dean’s quick reflexes, that damned snake would have done some serious damage to
our colonel here.”
Katie’s
eyebrows shot up as she looked over at a blushing Dean and started to chuckle. “Oh … my … God! What did you do?” she asked Dean as another
wave of chuckles hit.
“As
soon as I felt it move beneath me, I got up and grabbed the first thing I laid my hands on
and threw it at it as it poked its head out,” Dean answered modestly.
“Oh,
yeah!” Bill interjected. “I’ve
never seen such fluid movement in my life. I
was just standing there and the next thing I knew, the colonel was standing next to me
throwing Garcia’s lunch plate at the rattler like a Frisbee. She threw it with such force that it took the head
clean off! Damned thing had fourteen rings on
its rattler and was over eight feet long when we laid it out!”
“Made
a nice meal though,” Dean added casually.
“You
ate it?” the young blonde groaned.
“You
bet,” Bill answered her with a smile on his face.
“Best roasted rattler I ever had.”
“If
you two are finished chatting now, I could use your help,” Dean admonished them as
she pointed to the bookcase on the back wall. “If
you look closely at the floor, here you can notice a slightly worn arc. I’ve tried pushing the bookcase, but it
won’t budge. There’s got to be a
trigger mechanism that will release it.” Dean
was explaining as she carefully moved each item on the bookshelf looking for the release
as Katie and Bill joined in the search.
“Secret
moving bookcases. Just like something
you’d see in an old ‘B’ movie,” Katie was mumbling to herself as she
reached up and looked at a light switch next to the bookcase. “Naw … that would be too obvious,”
she said as she flicked the switch and watched the bookcase slide open, to the
astonishment of Dean and Bill. “Well, I
guess if it had been a snake, it would have bit ya,” Katie said with a grin as she
swung both arms in the direction of the opening, inviting Dean and Bill to enter the dark
interior. “After you.”
They
cautiously peeked into the dark space, examining it with their flashlights before they
went any further. The area directly behind
the bookcase was a small landing before a series of stairs descended into darkness. Dean searched the wall inside the opening and
found a double switch. “Bet this one
closes this thing,” she conjectured as she flipped the switch farthest from the
opening, “and this one is for the lights.”
As she finished speaking, a series of small wattage light bulbs came to life,
illuminating the passageway. It appeared to
be at least six feet across and seven feet high. The
walls were poured concrete with a light fixture every twenty feet or so. It was dry in the passageway, but cool, and the
air smelled slightly damp. “Okay,
let’s see where this goes, shall we? Better
close the bookcase behind us, just in case.” And
before the other two could answer, she was silently, and cautiously moving down the
stairs.
Imitating
their leader, Katie and Bill followed closely after Dean.
When they got to the bottom of the stairs, the passageway turned right and went for
quite a distance before turning to the left, continuing for five to six hundred feet. At the end of the passageway they came upon a
large steel door that reminded Dean of the doors on Naval ships, only larger. The door almost filled the entire width and height
of the passageway itself and had a keypad-locking device on it.
“Damn! Now what?” Bill asked as he noted the keypad
lock.
Katie
reached into her belt pack and pulled out a palm sized device. “No problem,” she answered as she
stepped up to the door. Dean had already
pulled out her pick set, selected the Phillips head screwdriver she always kept there, and
began unscrewing the panel on the keypad, exposing the wires.
Katie
reached up and selected the red and green wires and attached them via alligator clips to
her instrument, then punched in a few keystrokes. ”This’ll
take just a few minutes,” she said as she checked her watch, then noted the numbers
that began appearing on the keypad digital display. “Seven
… four … nine … one.” When
the four numbers were on the display, it began a series of blinks in red then switched to
a solid green. “Looks like it’s
done,” Katie commented as she unhooked the wires, allowing Dean to replace the panel
on the keypad. Before Dean opened the door,
she pointed to the switch on the wall by Bill and told him to douse the lights. Once the lights were off, they waited until their
eyes had enough time to adjust to the darkness before slowly opening the door and
cautiously stepping through. What they found
on the other side was the tunnel for the utilities servicing the Navy Yard. One corridor led directly to the Navy Yard, while
the other apparently led to an outlet near the Potomac.
“Well
surprise, surprise,” Dean commented as she recognized their location. “Looks like our boys have a direct link to
the Navy. Maybe that’s where they got
their radar equipment. Nice little delivery
system they’ve got here.”
“I
haven’t heard any scuttlebutt about missing radar equipment from my Navy
buddies,” Bill said as he closed the door behind them.
“But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing missing.”
“Is
there any way we can have them check for missing or stolen equipment?” Katie inquired
as the trio walked slowly towards the Naval Yard.
“We’ll
have to get the general to request a quiet audit of all the services,” Dean answered. “I’ll bet Golding and Gentry have
buddies in all the branches. It would be too
risky to steal from just one place or one branch. Easier
to hide what you’re taking if it’s only a piece here and a piece there.”
“As
long as the pieces are interchangeable,” added Bill.
“Mmm,
makes sense,” Katie said thoughtfully. “But
won’t it take a long time to find out what’s missing, and from where?”
“Yep,
and that’s probably what Gentry’s counting on,” the colonel posited. “Let’s see where this tunnel comes out. Maybe we can put a discreet surveillance on it,
and see what turns up.”
At
the end, the tunnel made an upward turn, where the various conduits snaked their way into
the Yard’s main power plant. “End
of the road,” Dean confirmed as she climbed back down the vertical ladder. “Okay, let’s get back to the
warehouse.”
*
* * * *
It
took them fifteen minutes to get back to the van, after insuring that they had left the
warehouse exactly as they had found it, and enabling the security system. Dean turned the driving over to Bill while she
called General Carlton regarding their findings. It
was 0237 hours on 2 November as she dialed the general’s home number.
“General,
this is Colonel Peterson.” Dean spoke
quietly into the phone. “We’ve just
finished our exploration, and I felt there were some developments that you needed to know
about immediately.” Dean went on to
explain about the hidden passageway and its link to the Navy Yard. She included their suspicions that Gentry was
stealing parts from various branches of the services and from several different posts, to
avoid detection. “I don’t know if
it is possible, Ma’am, but I would recommend that a general audit be ordered of all
branches, if you feel that you would be able to request one.
“I
agree that an audit is in order, but,” the general cautioned, “it might be
difficult to set one in motion quickly enough to provide us with usable data.” And I’ll have to call in a few
markers just to get that initiated, since the information gathered to date is not from an
official investigation. “I
will see what I can do about making the investigation official at my meeting with the
Joint Chiefs later this morning, and I would like to meet with you after that.”
“Yes,
Ma’am,” Dean replied, knowing that the general’s administrative skill was
going to be taxed to the limit in this phase of the operation.
“I
should be back in my office by 1400. I’ll
have Tibbits contact you when I’m available to meet.
Good work, Dean,” the general commended before disconnecting.
“Okay,
troops, let’s call it a night,” Dean ordered, as she sat back in the seat and
relaxed for the drive back.
*
* * * *
Chapter
10
1400
Hours, 2 November
Sergeant
Major Tibbits stood as Colonel Peterson opened the door to the general’s anteroom. “She’s not in a very good mood,
Colonel,” Tibbits commented as he stepped over to open the door to the general’s
office. “I don’t think her meeting
went well this morning,” he reflected as he turned the doorknob pulling the door
open, allowing Dean a view of a very red-faced general pacing her office.
“Thanks,
Tibbits.” Dean slipped past him coming
to attention just inside the general’s office. “Lieutenant
Colonel …” she was stopped in mid-report as the general turned and said,
“Sit” a bit harshly. Dean
immediately sat in the nearest chair and waited patiently as the general continued to
pace, and wondered where this hostility was coming from.
After a few more trips up and back, the general seemed to make up her mind, and
joined Dean in the informal sitting area.
“Sorry,”
she began, “but I’m a bit out of sorts right now. I just got back from my meeting with the Joint
Chiefs, and it’s a wonder I can sit at all after the butt chewing I just got from the
man himself.” Dean waited patiently for
the general to continue. “I was able to
get the audit in motion, but only after I promised to cease further investigation until
after Operation Teamwork is over. They
don’t want any bad press to hit prior to the war games.”
“But,
General, aren’t they concerned that this may have something to do with the joint
exercises?” Dean asked in amazement.
“Yes,
and no. They feel that there may be a
tenuous link, but they’re not willing to admit that a bunch of washed up mercenaries
could do anything to jeopardize an operation of this magnitude. Plus, the other countries have not mentioned any
mercenary involvement in their intelligence reports, so they aren’t too
concerned.”
“Unbelievable,”
Dean commented as she shook her head. “General,
I can feel it in my gut. I can’t explain
how, but I know they’re planning something to disrupt these exercises. Maybe even cause damage to the units
participating. Something! And I know we won’t like it when we find out
what it is.” Dean paused before
continuing. “Damn it, General! Some
portions of these exercises are live fire!”
“I
know, Colonel, but my hands are tied. They
won’t let me take the investigation to official status.
“Here
we go again,” Dean said with a tinge of bitterness in her voice. “Only this time, it’s the military
leaders instead of the political leaders.”
“Colonel,
I promised I would cease my investigation until after the exercises … but I
can’t give you orders concerning what to do or not do on your vacation.” The general finished with a softer edge to her
voice as she made eye contact with Dean.
”Understood, General. The
‘toys’ I’ve checked out to take on vacation with me, are they still
available?” Dean asked with a raised eyebrow and a slow smile appearing on her lips.
“Well,
if you don’t find the time to turn them in before you leave … I guess you can
turn them in when you get back,” Mary stated, now obviously in a better mood. “But make sure you take the satellite phone
with you. Never know when I might need to
contact you,” she added, now grinning fully.
“Yes,
Ma’am!” Dean replied. “I’ll be ready whenever duty calls,
Ma’am.”
The
general smiled at her Aide’s obvious enthusiasm. “When were you scheduled to
start your vacation?”
“Next
Friday, 10 November.”
“Well,
if you clear your desk earlier, you have my permission to start sooner if you wish,”
General Carlton added as she rose from her seat on the couch. “And I’m sure Director Evans will
approve Agent O’Malley’s leaving early, too.
Especially since my request for her services, has been deemed unnecessary at this
time.” This she said with a wink.
“Yes,
Ma’am. I’m sure Agent
O’Malley will look forward to a little extra vacation time,” Dean speculated as
she rose to leave. “Thank you,
Ma’am. I’ll be sure to send you a
postcard. By the way, I’ll be
moonlighting Sunday night. I’ll just try
to tie up any loose ends. Is that all right
with you, Ma’am?”
The
general thought for a moment, and nodded her head. “I’m
sure if you’ve finished up any reports before you leave tomorrow, you could start
your vacation Saturday.” With that, Dean left the general’s office in at least a
little better frame of mind, but fully aware that she wouldn’t have the three team
back-up she had planned on for her second visit to the warehouse as Maria.
Looks
like it’s just going to be Katie and me. Good
thing I’ve already checked out the portable TDSC unit and the audio surveillance
equipment. I’d hate to go in totally
naked,
Dean thought as she walked briskly down the hall to her office.
*
* * * *