“Can we have a show of hands here?” She raised her right hand, scanned her audience and asked, “Who thinks my violin should stay in the cabin?”
Turner realized he needed to end this fast. He shoved his bag the rest of the way into the compartment and her violin shot out the other side.
“That’ll about do it,” he said with a wry smile.
He brushed past her to head for his seat, and when they touched he had to shake off the charge of electricity.
“It will, will it?” Eden said, as she reached for his bag. “Just what’s so important here, Mr. Kalem?”
He looked over at Etzy Millar, and the hacker’s eyes were full of worry as he watched the scene escalate. Turner shot her a nasty look when she began to pull open the zipper.
Chapter 56
Addy Simpson read the intel report on his tablet. He then looked to Jack Turner, who was driving his bright yellow RAM 1500 extended-cab pickup truck. “The place Matilde’s daughter was taken from had an FBI agent present,” he said.
“Yeah well, Culder is Soller’s faithful puppet,” Turner said, his eyes not leaving the road.
Simpson laughed. “Agreed. Imagine if this was all connected. Then you’d have to stop giving me a hard time.”
“Whatever,” Jack Turner said shaking his head.
“Poolesville’s an easy location to sift through the cell tower signals. There aren’t many people around. From the real-estate records, the house smells like a black site.”
“I didn’t realize the FBI ran locations like that. I’d figure this would be CIA.”
“They shouldn’t, and with the FBI presence you can rule out the CIA. The house is like a shadow. It’s owned by the BR Corporation, and it looks like a shell company. Most of the other cell phones in the vicinity trace back to BR Corp as well. One of them has been turned off, but there are three that still have an active cell signal there. The phone tied to the FBI agent was also turned off at the location. Most of the other signals they picked up were from area residents.”
Jack Turner turned to his friend and said, “This just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”
“Tell me about it.” Simpson read the rest of the analysis and said, “There’s a pay-as-you-go phone that stands out as well. It can’t be traced to anyone, and it’s also been turned off.”
“The Russians she mentioned?”
Simpson nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. I’m sending a note to have the analysts at The Shop put all the numbers on alert and add them to our proximity zones.”
Turner gave him a quizzical look. “Huh?”
“If one of the cell signals comes online, we’ll know. If it’s nearby, your phone will give you the heads up even quicker.”
“Gotcha,” Jack Turner said. “At least I think I do…”
“Are you ready to do this?” Simpson asked.
“You already know my opinion. Hitting this location is a bona fide bad idea. Especially now that it sounds like we’ll have three for company.”
Simpson couldn’t disagree. His friend was absolutely right. There was a personal element in this, and he couldn’t deny that it was affecting his judgment. He himself was even starting to question what they were doing when his cell phone rang.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Addy, sorry to call again,” Matilde Soller said.
“It’s okay, Bella, don’t be.” He nodded at Turner.
“There’s something else, something I’d forgotten to tell you, and I think it’s important. I can’t believe I didn’t mention it before. I don’t know…I just wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re under a lot of stress right now,” Simpson said. “What is it?”
“Maria’s boyfriend. He was with Max when he was killed,” she said with great concern. “His name is Francis Millar. We call him Etzy. I can’t believe he had anything to do with Max’s death, I just can’t. He’s wonderful. I know it in my heart. People are after him, Addy. He’s scared. Scared to death.”
Simpson had his answer. She had just connected the dots. He looked over at Turner and asked her, “Have you told your husband?”
“Oh my God, yes. Maximillian flew off the handle when I told him I’d called you. He’s lost it. I don’t know what’s happened to him, but please be careful.” Her voice started to crack up. “He said he’s coming after you. Well, in so many words. You know how he can be. I’m so sorry for bringing you into all of this.”
Simpson ended the conversation with his best effort to comfort the grieving mother and then turned his attention back to Jack Turner.
“Well, my friend. We have our connection. You should be a fortune teller. Apparently the senator has already lost his mind, so this isn’t going to make things any worse.” Simpson flashed him a big grin and then explained the new developments. “This is part of the operation now, so we don’t really have a choice.”
Turner furrowed his brow. “Yeah, right. I can smell your epiphany,” he joked, alluding to the bullshit. “So you’re telling me if her daughter wasn’t a part of the operation, you’d have backed off?”
His friend nodded emphatically and smiled.
“That explains why we’re already here,” Turner pointed out as he pulled the truck to the side of the road.
Simpson worked the display on his tablet, and a quiet whirring emitted from the back of the pickup truck. He worked the touch-screen controls, and the flying machine lifted into the sky and headed toward the target house a half a click down the road. In less than five minutes, the PMD II had canvased the location with its array of advanced surveillance technologies.
“There’s nobody on the floors above ground, but the sensor isn’t powerful enough to get all the way down to the basement,” Simpson said.
“Always a catch with these gadgets, isn’t there?” Turner smiled and motioned to Simpson’s phone. “That reminds me. You might want to turn your ringer off so your old flame doesn’t get you shot up when she calls back.”
Both men burst out laughing. It had been a long time since either of them had carried out an operation in the field, and they were rusty. After a quick gear check, the men set off on their way.
By the time they reached the black site, the PMD II had already determined a clear route to the front door that would avoid setting off any alarms. Simpson touched the hood of the black SUV they passed in the driveway and confirmed the vehicle hadn’t been driven recently. The PMD flying above disabled the motion sensors in front of the house as they moved silently to the front door.
They stood perfectly still and listened intently.
Chapter 57
The last few weeks had been extremely stressful for Dr. Charles Reed. The avalanche of bad news had started with his daughter’s arrest and the revelation that she was a drug addict. His level of anxiety had been freshly topped off knowing the man who had caused his unexpected resignation from Island Industries was calling on him. Reed sat at the desk in his sleek modern office, the damp smell of rain clinging to his clothes. He let the phone ring three more times and finally answered it, but chose not to speak. He’d never found himself in a compromised situation like this before, and his mind was reeling.
“I didn’t realize Island Industries was in the business of assassinating US citizens,” FBI Director Frank Culder said.
There was a long pause while Reed carefully considered his response. “I’ll give you credit,” he said. “You certainly have an active imagination.”
“Tell me, Chuck, is Simpson that far gone? I mean really. Killing the son of a US senator isn’t the most intelligent use of company resources, wouldn’t you say?”