He pointed to the dates. “Is this correct?” he asked Khalila. “Are these when he was spotted on the cameras, or the processing date? It doesn’t make sense that he’d visit four different grocery stores on the same day.”
“I don’t know. It could be dependent on the surveillance system.”
Khalila picked up the phone and contacted the supervisor overseeing their section of analysts. Jessica Del Rio descended from her second floor office overlooking the main floor, stopping behind Harrison and Khalila.
After Harrison posed his question, Jessica replied, “All surveillance systems are designed to input the capture date, not a processing or delivery date to us. This means Mixell visited four different stores on the same day. I admit it seems odd, but let’s put that aside for the moment and focus on finding him. Do you know how to identify the store locations?”
Harrison nodded, then dragged the address of each store onto a locator app, and a map appeared on his display showing the location of each Giant Food store. All were located in Eastern Maryland between Washington, D.C., and the Chesapeake Bay, within a ten-by-ten-mile area.
“A hundred square miles,” Khalila muttered.
“It’s a start,” Jessica replied, “and we can narrow his location substantially if we can get a license plate number.”
She assigned four analysts to assist, one to each Giant Food store, and they downloaded video from every camera at the stores during Mixell’s visits. Harrison waited tensely as each analyst viewed multiple video streams simultaneously.
“Got it,” one of the analysts reported.
Harrison and Khalila gathered around his computer monitor, which displayed video from a parking lot surveillance camera, showing Mixell placing his groceries in a green Jeep Grand Cherokee. The analyst zoomed in on the license plate and froze the video. After clicking on the image, the details appeared in a text box nearby.
“It’s a rental,” the analyst announced, “to a John Fonda. The vehicle was rented from Dulles Airport a few weeks ago, with a home address in California.”
“Pull up all hits after the rental date,” Jessica ordered. The analyst complied, and a map appeared on his display, populated with dozens of drop-pins. Jessica explained, “These are license plate detections from speed and traffic light cameras.”
The bulk of the drop-pins were clustered in the city of Woodmore at two intersections along Enterprise Road: Lottsford Road and Central Avenue. Along the 1.5-mile stretch of Enterprise Road between those intersections were nine entrances into housing developments plus several small farms.
“I’ll coordinate with law enforcement and have checkpoints established at both intersections,” Jessica said. “We can then conduct a door-to-door search.”
62
OWINGS MILLS, MARYLAND
The metal security gate guarding a condominium complex on Wordsworth Way slid slowly aside, making way for a black Lincoln Navigator with dark tinted windows, which entered the complex and parked in front of a four-story building. Christine O’Connor stepped from the back seat of the vehicle and entered the condominium, accompanied by two protective agents. On the second floor, Christine knocked on the door to Apartment 203. Nadia Harrison, Jake’s mother, answered the door, welcoming Christine into the apartment while the protective agents waited in the hallway.
“Maddy’s almost ready,” Nadia said.
It was Easter Sunday, the day Christine had arranged a White House tour for Maddy, following up on her promise to Harrison’s daughter a few weeks ago. Additionally, Christine had arranged a short meeting with the president himself, who had just returned from Europe in time for the annual Easter Monday celebration held on the White House South Lawn.
While they waited for Maddy, Christine joined Nadia at the breakfast table in the kitchen.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Nadia asked.
There was something comforting about Nadia’s accent, reminding Christine of her mother, who was also a first-generation Russian. When they had lived in Fayetteville, the two women had often gathered for social visits while the kids played, although that meant Christine had to deal with the antics of Nadia’s three boys. It had been over twenty years since Christine had heard her mom’s voice; she had died from cancer when Christine was in her early twenties. Christine had been dating Jake at the time, and she recalled his arm wrapped around her, offering support as her mother was lowered into her grave at Arlington National Cemetery, joining her father.
Nadia must have noticed the distant look in her eyes as she recalled the event, because she said, “With everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’re back in Jake’s life. He needs a good friend right now.”
Christine forced a quick smile. It seemed that Jake hadn’t explained things to his parents — that he wanted nothing further to do with her, interfacing with her to the minimum extent possible while tracking down Mixell.
She shifted her gaze away from Jake’s mom, ostensibly to check on Maddy, hoping her face didn’t convey the emotion she felt. Fortunately, Maddy appeared around the corner, entering the kitchen beaming with excitement. She greeted Christine with a hug.
As Christine rose from her chair, Nadia asked, “When do you expect to return?”
“Probably just before dinner. I’ve arranged the White House tour and meeting with the president this afternoon.”
Nadia stood and joined them, giving Maddy a goodbye kiss. “Enjoy the tour, and be on your best behavior when you meet the president!”
“I will,” Maddy replied as she took Christine’s hand in hers.
“I’m sure she’ll do fine,” Christine added.
63
WOODMORE, MARYLAND
At the intersection of Enterprise Road and Central Avenue, Harrison’s car was waved through the checkpoint after the police officer examined his ID. Thirty minutes ago, Harrison and Khalila had departed the NCTC, speeding along the Capital Beltway toward Woodmore. Harrison was pleased that law enforcement had responded quickly, blocking both ends of Enterprise Road where Mixell’s residence was suspected. Whether Mixell was currently within the checkpoint area was the salient question that no one could answer.
Most of the residences in the cordoned area were single-family homes, which would take quite a while to inspect, depending on how many personnel were assigned to the task. After conferring with Khalila during the trip around the Beltway, Harrison had decided to inspect the handful of small farms along Enterprise Road, which would have provided Mixell with more privacy than the housing developments.
They came up empty at the first three homes, conversing with the residents who had never seen anyone matching Mixell’s description. At the fourth stop, no one answered the door, and there were no vehicles parked outside. After a quick inspection through several windows, it appeared that no one was home. They were about to head to the next house when Harrison spotted tire tracks in the grass, leading from the end of the driveway into the backyard, which seemed a bit odd. They followed the tracks, which ended at the entrance to a barn.
The doors were secured with a padlock, so Harrison and Khalila circled around the barn, searching for another entrance. There wasn’t one, but there was a small window on one side. Through the window, Harrison spotted a worktable and three open crates, but couldn’t make out the markings on the crates. They warranted further inspection, given that Mixell had procured two crates of C-4 and a third containing detonators.
Returning to the entrance, Harrison examined the padlock.
“Do you know how to pick a lock?” he asked Khalila.