Chapter 23 #2
“Right,” the director said. “The second man is known only as Wrench. He’s a vehicle mechanic and has worked with Welliver a few times.”
“What’s the concern about Welliver, sir?” Hallie asked.
“He’s got a fondness for explosives,” the director said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to relieve a headache.
“He’s been our prime suspect in the port bombings.
” Hallie looked around the room, heart sinking as she wondered how she had possibly missed his photograph and name amid all the other information.
“No, his name doesn’t appear anywhere in the files so you wouldn’t have seen it.
There’s absolutely no evidence that he’s involved.
Nothing concrete. Just his past history and that we don’t know of many people who’d be able to create that kind of targeted explosion. ”
“If Welliver is in town, we’ll need sniffers before we go into any building after Trask,” Commander Rojas said. “It changes things quite a bit.”
“It does, yes. We’ll also need extra bodies to cover a wider perimeter,” the director said, turning back to the map.
“He might have set up traps along the roads, too,” Frollo pointed out.
They had discounted that possibility in their earlier discussions.
Before they’d known about Russet Welliver, Hallie realised and had a sick feeling she should have pushed forward with the information earlier.
At least they were still in the planning stages.
No one had actually gone onto the street yet.
It wasn’t much comfort, but she held onto it anyway.
There was a lot more discussion, most of which Hallie could follow, about how best to get onto the street and into the property without Findo or anyone else escaping and without civilian casualties.
At length the plan was decided. The tactical team was split into two groups - one going in the helicopter, the other in one of the vans - with investigators following in another two vans.
Hallie was relieved that she and Girard would be in the final van, so she would be out of the way of the experts as they made sure that the house was safe, although she was aware of a strong feeling of frustration that she was not going to be the one to tackle Findo directly. Not this time.
The last time Hallie had been sent after one of Findo’s kind, the low city police had provided her with doses of tranquilliser to help subdue him and she was relieved to see that the tac team had several doses with them, loaded into specially adapted hand guns.
It wasn’t as low-risk as a long-range rifle, but it was better than the option Hallie had had which was to jab a needle into the veondken.
Once the plans were finalised there was no more hesitation or delay.
Everyone headed out to the vans and helicopter, the vans on their way the moment the doors were closed for the relatively short drive into midtown.
Hallie sat at the back of the final van, next to Girard, and tried to get comfortable in the body armour she was wearing, the butt of her gun poking her every time she moved.
It was better than getting shot, she knew, even if it was irritating.
It was also far preferable to think about how annoying the body armour was than to think about what might be waiting ahead of them in a house which might or might not be occupied by Findo Trask and which might or might not have been rigged with explosives.
Despite the careful and detailed planning and caution displayed by all concerned, it was still almost shockingly early in the day - barely mid morning - when the van Hallie was in made the last planned turn in midtown, close to the target address.
She felt as if a full day had passed since Zurine’s early morning call.
Even though she wasn’t the one at the wheel, it felt good to finally be moving, to finally be taking some action.
The van headed along the road that would take them past the junction of the target street.
They were going to park their van at the end of the street, hopefully blocking off any vehicles from getting away, and then go in on foot only when the tac team had made sure the area was free from explosives.
From her position at the back, Hallie couldn’t see what was happening up ahead but she did notice when the van drew to a halt and the driver - Jasper - turned the vehicle around so it sat crosswise across the single track road.
Hallie hoped that none of the other residents on the street were hoping to get their own cars out for a while.
Jasper had the vehicle’s radio tuned into the tac team signal so everyone in the van could follow along as Commander Rojas and his team on the ground made a cautious, careful approach, checking for traps or explosives at every point.
After they were within shooting distance of the house, they called in the helicopter, with Frollo in charge of that part of the team.
Hallie could hear the glee in Frollo’s voice as he descended from the helicopter to the roof of the house, the pause while he checked for booby traps and explosives, and the quiet, controlled professionalism as he ordered his people down from the air and through the roof, making their entrance through a skylight that they had spotted on the photographs of the area.
Commander Rojas, who had never lost his cool professional tone, ordered his people to move in.
Hallie found herself leaning forward, along with Girard and everyone else, straining her ears to catch every word from the tac team. There wasn’t much to hear - the occasional word or two, a few dull thumps, perhaps as doors were opened - and that only made her more anxious.
After what felt like an eternity, Commander Rojas’ voice came back on, slightly louder than before. “Property secured. No one here. Other teams cleared for entry.”
The van door had been opened before his last word was spoken and the investigators piled out of the van, heading up the quiet residential street towards the house at the end.
Hallie saw hints of movement behind the windows of a couple of the houses.
She wondered what the residents made of the morning’s events.
Armed hochlen. A helicopter overhead. All heading for a perfectly ordinary-looking house at the end of the leafy street.
“I’d like to talk to a couple of neighbours,” Hallie said to Girard. “There’s at least two houses with someone home.”
“I saw that,” Girard answered. He pulled out his phone and dialled a preset number.
“Sir, we’ve spotted a couple of neighbours watching.
We’d like to speak to them, see what they might know.
” Hallie didn’t catch whatever reply the director made, but Girard nodded and put the phone away, changing direction to head for the nearest house with a shadow in the window.
“He wants us to be as quick as possible. If we can’t find anything here, we’ve got to get back to the Conclave building and secure it before the meetings start this afternoon. ”
“Secure?” Hallie asked, trying to work out what that might mean. The ground changed from the hard tarmac to the red gravel of the driveway leading up to the red brick house.
“The tac team will need to go through the whole structure with sniffers again, now we know Russet Welliver is here, and we’ll be expected to carry out patrols. We’d have been doing some of that anyway,” Girard reminded her.
They’d reached the front door of the house, painted a deep green colour. Before they could find the doorbell, the door opened and an elderly woman appeared, pure white hair in neat curls around her head, cool, dark brown skin lined with age, her eyes bright and keen behind round glasses.
“You’re wanting to know about the house at the end, I expect,” she said. “Well, go on, show me your badges.”
Looking as if he might be hiding a smile, Girard produced his badge. “Special Investigator Abbott, ma’am, of the Conclave Investigators. And this is Miss Talbot, who is consulting with us.”
“Conclave Investigators, eh? Oh, that sounds important. Well, come in then, come on.”
“Ma’am,” Girard said, and he was definitely hiding a smile at that point. Hallie didn’t blame him. She had an unexpected bubble of amusement in her as well at the woman’s evident enthusiasm. She could only hope it was matched by good information.
Hallie need not have worried. Mrs Quella Rosewood might be old, but she had a sharp mind and a keen observational eye and clearly spent a great deal of time effectively spying on her neighbours.
She had even kept notes of the vehicles going in and out.
She managed to get Hallie and Girard into her kitchen, which was large, full of sunshine and immaculately clean and tidy, and provide them with mugs of very good coffee and a plate of equally good giant cookies all the while talking almost non-stop.
By the time Mrs Rosewood - call me Quella, dear - had taken her seat at the head of the table, Hallie and Girard knew all about her late husband, children, grandchildren and her rivalry with someone she referred to as the old, interfering busybody across the road who, if Hallie had to guess, was an equally keen observer of his neighbours.
She spotted Girard sending a text on his phone and guessed he might be suggesting to the director that someone else should go and question the other resident.
“Knew he was trouble the moment I spotted him. Great hulking brute of a man,” Quella said as she settled into her chair. “And red in his eyes, too. Never trust a man with red in his eyes, young lady,” she told Hallie.
“I will keep that in mind, thank you,” Hallie said. “Can you remember when he got here?”
“Of course I can, dear, I’m old, not senile.” Quella picked up the notebook that she had set down at her elbow, opening it and turning back a few pages. She rattled off a date and time.