Miller, Lightfoote, and Rideout stood like statues in the cool air and watched three shadows approach from the opposite side of the tunnel. The distance was only fifty yards, and it was easy to identify one of the shapes. Cohen walked at a brisk pace several paces in front of the two other figures, her eyes locked on Savas. Behind her glided a lithe woman with a confident, feline gait, her body remaining shrouded in black even as she approached close enough for light to spill over her form. Her face was covered completely by a veil or mask. A slit in the black fabric revealed a pair of intense, blue eyes. Beside her strode a powerfully built man, also black clad but with his face uncovered, dark eyes and raven hair blending into the night. He seemed to possess an underlying tension that caught on the air like static.
Miller spoke quietly to Savas as the three neared. "Is that a cassock?"
"Maybe," Savas growled.
Rideout cut in. "If you mean the one next to the hot burqa-ninja, I would say yes. Definitely a cassock."
Miller shook his head. “John’s mystery project. Who are these ghosts?"
Lightfoote laughed, tipping her head to Miller's. "Avenging spirits, Frank."
The pair behind her stopped several feet in front of the others. Cohen stepped up to Savas and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. She glanced backward.
"They weren't happy to come, John. But they're here. They're ready." She slipped alongside him and turned to face the ciphers.
Savas spoke to his team. "I'm sorry for this secrecy, but it was necessary for reasons I can't go into. But they're here to help." He gestured toward the pair. "Gabriel and Mary. You're to know them by these names. They're professionals. They are off the radar. They have no ties or allegiances to anyone. But they're allies."
Savas saw Miller and Rideout appraising the pair. Lightfoote only smiled.
Cohen continued the introductions. "Mary is an experienced field operative. She's smart and can handle herself in just about any situation. Gabriel has a unique history, but he is unparalleled in combat and crisis."
Rideout cut in. "Gabriel and Mary? What's next, the Holy Spirit? Christ child?”
Lopez walked up to Rideout, who could not suppress an instinct to step backward. As Gabriel, he offered his hand. "We'll need all the help from God we can get, if what Rebecca has told us is true. You can trust us."
Rideout extended his hand cautiously. The two men shook. There followed a repeat of the ritual with the other members of the team. Houston paused a moment looking Lightfoote up and down.
"This the one? Your white hat hacker?”
Savas nodded. "I don't know what color she is. Red, by the color of her butchered hair." He gestured toward Houston. "Angel, meet Mary. You and JP will be paired with her and Gabriel to form a team to look into the drones and computer end of this case. The rest of us will pursue the human angle and try to dig out the members of Anonymous."
The two women shook hands.
Houston stared quietly a moment longer. The fabric around her mouth pulled tightly from a smirk. "I like this one. She's hardcore."
Lightfoote looked deeply into Houston's eyes. "We all have to be. Now the nightmare really begins."
Lopez moved between Savas and Lightfoote. "You said she was special."
Savas shook his head. "You have no idea."
"Now that we're one big, happy family," said Lightfoote, "Let's get the hell out of here. Meeting together is a bad idea. For all of us, because of Anonymous. For you," she said, indicating Lopez and Houston, "because of, well, everyone else. Right, Fearless Leader?"
Miller and Rideout looked over sharply, but Savas ignored them. "As usual, Angel is correct. But I felt to get us through this email wouldn’t cut it. Sometimes face-to-face is required. So, the drone data?"
Lightfoote pulled out a black binder filled with paper and handed it to Houston. "Mary, your homework for tonight."
"What is it?" Houston asked.
Savas answered. "Angel's been digging into the drones. Records of the sales and trades of the major manufactures in the country. Hardcopy in case we’d transfer the worm to your computers. You said yours are scrubbed?”
Houston nodded. “Re-virginized.”
"I think you'll find this interesting," said Angel, a sly look on her face, indicating the binder.
"Once you've had a chance to digest it, we can plan the next steps," said Savas. "Meanwhile, we split up again, contact only through burner cells without GPS. Anonymous may have compromised telecommunications, and we can't afford to tip our hands."
Miller grunted. "Or you may find a drone up your ass with an unfriendly payload."
"Who’s our contact point?" Lopez asked.
“You’ll have all our numbers, and should we need to dump a phone we'll update as we go. But you’ll funnel all communications through Angel. The rest of you, outside of an emergency, straight to me. We believe Anonymous is using the NSA-developed snooping tools, piggy-backing on US surveillance. That means anything and everything is possibly an eye or ear for them. Angel is monitoring those tools for any hint that we’ve been compromised. Unlikely given our precautions, but we need to be careful, so let’s keep communication minimal.”
"See, you aren't the only ones hiding from Big Brother," said Lightfoote, smiling toward Lopez and Houston.
Lopez arched an eyebrow and Savas cut in. “Frighteningly intuitive, as I mentioned. I’m still calling it a feature, not a bug.”
Houston half turned to leave. “Okay then. Let's break and communicate when we’re ready to move.”
Savas nodded, and with a last look across the members of Intel 1, Lopez and Houston walked back through the tunnel and disappeared into the darkness.
Rideout let out a long breath that condensed in the air. “Well, that was intense!"
"Trusting your judgment on this, John," Miller said. "But I know death when I see it. And it was just standing in front of me."
"They've been through hell and back," said Savas. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want to walk in their shoes.”
They turned to exit the tunnel in different directions, each to take a different path and avoid detection. Before leaving, Lightfoote dropped alongside Savas and pecked his cheek with a kiss.
“Explanation?” Savas had known her for too long to hope to guess.
“The Priest and the Whore." She nodded approvingly. "Good catch, Aging Overlord.”
Savas sighed. "Damn, Angel, sometimes I don't know whether you're our only hope or our doom. How the hell did—"
"And it's really something that you did for them." Her expression turned serious. “But don't forget — I’m the only Angel.”
25
It was three in the morning, and a bleary-eyed Sara Houston lay back against the filthy wall of the abandoned brownstone. Small lamps were placed on the floor around a crouched figure in front of her. Cords ran to outlets in the wall at her left. Lopez sat cross-legged in the middle of the circle of light, his dark features giving him the appearance of some ancient priest petitioning the gods. Instead he bowed over reams of paper, and rubbed his eyes.
"It's so obvious if anyone had been looking." His voice was deeper than usual, rough from lack of sleep.
Houston spoke over the wailing of an ambulance siren as the flashing lights played across the windows. "So, we’ve got records for six major drone manufacturers in the US. Every single one of them has seen a marked increase in sales over the last six months. No wonder Angel thought we’d find it ‘interesting.’”
Lopez nodded, stood up, and stretched. “But we could be jumping to conclusions. Maybe the market has picked up for drones? More and more police and news stations want to get their hands on these things. Doesn't mean it's Anonymous related. Would they even shop local? Leave that kind of trail?”