There was the sound of screeching tires, vehicle doors opening and running.
Three men dressed completely in tactical black with 'FBI' across their chest in big white letters came from the street.
All of them pointed guns, short barreled rifles, at her. One shouted, “Don't move. FBI.”
She followed their instructions and soon found herself disarmed, and being handcuffed and dragged away along with the guy who had been fooling with Leo's truck.
Two men in heavily armored bomb suits approached the package.
“What's in that?”
She didn't get an answer and was led out into the street.
There was a man in a suit and body armor, wearing an FBI windbreaker, standing by a black van that had apparently brought the other FBI agents. The man had dark circles under his eyes and gray stubble showing on his unshaven face. His shirt was wrinkled and it looked like he had slept in it. He looked exhausted as he sucked on a cup of coffee.
“You Jackie Winn?”
She nodded.
“Where's Leo?”
“I haven't seen him in a couple of days. But I think I heard him working.”
A tired smile showed briefly on his face.
“I'm FBI Agent Jeff Silver. It's been a tough week or so.”
“I can imagine. Am I under arrest?”
“Not for now. But we do need to talk.”
“Will I need a lawyer?”
He shrugged. “It's entirely up to you. But I'm not currently looking at charging you with anything as long as you cooperate.”
She turned around so her back was towards him. “How about we lose the handcuffs then?”
He took the cuffs off.
“What was in the package that the bomb guys are so interested in?”
“A bomb.” He paused and listened to something that came over his earpiece radio. “A big one. Enough to take out a tank. Leo pissed someone off.”
She smiled. Leo could do that without too much trouble.
“How about we move out of the way of the bomb techs?”
He led her out past where fire trucks, police cars and more trucks full of tactically dressed FBI agents were all waiting. A helicopter hovered overhead, its rotor blades making chopping sounds.
Looking back, she saw a woman being taken out of her hotel room in handcuffs, already dressed in an orange jumpsuit by several men wearing Class A protective suits complete with respirators. Others followed, carrying brown paper bags sealed with red evidence tags.
“What’s that all about?”
Silver shrugged. “Another mess that Leo left for us — she was one of the people spreading chaos throughout the city.”
He turned to her and said, “What can you tell us about what has been going on around here recently?”
She leaned back against a squad car. The exhaust fumes from all the idling vehicles were almost enough to make her gag. “It’s a long story. How about we sit down someplace and talk about it?”
Chapter 30
Leo didn’t want to get involved with the mess in front of the hotel. Nor did he want to go over and introduce himself to the FBI. He’d been released once before by some unknown benefactor but wouldn’t count on that happening again.
The way he saw it, he hadn’t committed any crime worth mentioning and had only tried his best to help. Hell, he’d handed them three of the five assassins running around Denver. The other two were probably out of the country by now.
His truck was in the middle of a big crime scene, and it was probably best that he simply disappeared for a bit. But where to go?
Finally, it came to him. He flagged down a taxi and had the driver take him to within two blocks of Jackie’s home address. Being blessed with an almost eidetic memory helped him remember where she lived from the targeting package he had read what seemed like a lifetime ago.
After the taxi drove around the block, Leo trudged to the apartment building. Jackie lived on the fifth floor. The elevator didn’t work and the stairwell stank of old urine and fresh despair. His shoes crunched on discarded crack vials. What a fucking dump.
The locks on Jackie’s door were top of the line and he knew that there wasn’t any way he could, with his limited skills and tools, get past them.
He set his stuff down in front of her door and moved down the hallway a bit to the apartment next to hers.
Leo tapped on the door and it was answered by short Hispanic woman.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jackie’s brother, here in town for a bit. She was supposed to meet me here, and I’m a bit early. I don’t suppose you have a key so I could just let myself in?”
The woman eyed him suspiciously past the chain still fastened on the door. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”
“I don’t know if you heard that her boyfriend died recently. I was out of the country on business, but when I heard, I came out to help her.”
“What was her boyfriend’s name?”
“Nathan White. He died too young.” And hopefully he’s cooking someplace right now.
“Okay. Give me a minute.”
The door shut, and then there was the sound of the chain being taken off. Twenty seconds later, the door popped open and the woman stepped out holding a set of keys in her hand.
She fumbled around a bit, but got the door open.
Leo picked up his duffel bag and rifle case. “Thank you so very much.”
The woman nodded and watched him drag all of his stuff into the apartment. He shut the door and took a look around.
There were almost no personal touches to the place, no pictures, paintings or anything like that. The furniture was well worn, but the place was neat. In fact, it looked a great deal like Leo’s own apartment.
In a back bedroom was a computer with a huge screen. Other unidentifiable electronic and computer gear was stacked on metal shelves.
Jackie’s bedroom was also minimalist containing only a bed and a stack of computer books.
Leo settled down on her couch and took out his rifle and cleaning supplies.
He might as well clean his rifle while he waited for Jackie to show up — if she hadn’t been arrested by the FBI.
Tyrannicide was monitoring the news feeds and knew something was wrong. Three members of the Black Hand had been arrested. It began a pre-programmed subroutine, deleting many of its external links, just keeping enough open to continue to watch for certain events that would bring it back on line. Then it settled down to wait.
Jackie spent what seemed like days at the FBI office in Denver, going over her story, what she knew and what she thought had happened. Over and over again, from various angles, she was interrogated to the point where she had a blinding headache.
She did learn a few things, though. And it just brought on more questions that she didn’t have answers for.
Finally, she pleaded to be able to go home and promised to come back in the morning for further ‘interviews.’
She wasn’t very surprised to find Leo sitting on her couch when she got home.
He had apparently been dozing. His rifle case now sported stickers from various rock bands and guitar and amp manufacturers.
Standing, he came over to where she was waiting in the doorway.
“You taking up playing the guitar?”
“No. It’s a great disguise for a rifle case though. How are you doing?”
She closed the door. “It’s been a shitty week.” Leo took her hand and led her to the couch.
“So, where have you been, with the FBI?”
“Yeah. They want to talk to you in a bad way. But they’re scared of you for some reason.”
Leo smiled.
“Did you miss while shooting at that sniper or deliberately aim at his scope?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to kill him, nor destroy his rifle, so I did the next best thing. There’s been enough killing in this town and I didn’t need to add to the body count. Did you find anything out?”