Chapter 7 #2
She set her laptop on the table and turned it around to them.
On the screen was a young man with overly styled blond hair, dressed in khakis, flip-flops, and a polo bearing a tech company logo.
The picture looked like it had been snapped at airport security.
“Percy Hunter,” she said. “Print matches the one on the syringe. He’s a breaking and entering specialist we have under surveillance. ”
Cam squinted, looking for the same guy underneath the ridiculous frat-boy-slash-tech-boy outfit. “That’s him? And he’s a B she’d caught the trail they needed. “Rebecca Monroe made a deposit this morning.”
Cam shot to his feet, as did Nic beside him. “Do we have a location on him?”
“Noodle Stop. Right around the corner.”
Dining at the pho place where half the Federal Building employees ate lunch was a colossally stupid crook move. Then again, according to Lauren, Percy Hunter had no idea he was under investigation.
That was about to change.
Hoofing it up the street, Nic could already see the long line outside the tiny noodle shop.
“We can’t go in there hot,” Cam said from beside him.
“Not with that many people. He’ll either hear us coming or someone will get hurt.
Or both.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two agents behind them.
“Go around back. We’ll go in the front and flush him to you.
Weapons holstered.” The agents broke left down a side street while Nic followed Cam up the hill.
“No badges either,” Cam said to him and to the agents through the comms in their ears. “I don’t want to start a panic.”
They didn’t need to worry about a panic so much as a riot.
As soon as they hit the line and ignored it, heading straight for the door, the angry “You can’t jump” shouts started.
But they needed to get in there. Percy had paid ten minutes ago, which was the exact amount of time it usually took to fill an order here.
And today was no exception. From his vantage point above most heads, Nic saw sandy-haired Percy up front, still in that poorly fitted suit, grabbing his order.
“He’s at the counter,” Nic said to Cam.
The crowd complaints grew louder as Cam used his bruiser build to cut a path forward. Enough that Percy twisted to check out the commotion. When his gaze fell on Nic, his eyes widened and all the color drained from his face. Becca must have shown him a picture.
“He’s running,” Nic said, anticipating Percy’s next move.
Sure enough, noodles hit the floor with a splat, followed by the metal clang of upended tables and chairs on linoleum, as Percy darted for the back, creating a trail of hazards in his wake.
Need for discretion gone, Cam shouted, “FBI! Out of the way,” and charged one direction around the small interior, leaping over the flipped table and noodles. “Move, move, move!”
Nic cut the other direction, upending a table and chair himself in case Percy tried to run toward them instead of away, though the rest of the patrons bolting toward the door would have made a front exit difficult.
Percy, however, did exactly what they wanted. Ran straight for the back door.
“He’s headed out back,” Nic shouted across the room at Cam.
“Intercept,” Cam called as Percy slammed through the exit door. Right into the waiting arms of the other agents.
By the time Nic and Cam reached the alley, the other agents had cuffed Percy and one had him shoved face-first against the cement wall.
“Hey, you can’t do this!” Percy struggled against the agent’s hold. “What about my rights?”
Cam took the other agent’s place, wrapping a hand over Percy’s cuffed wrists and pressing him harder against the wall. “He’s not going to object,” Cam said with a nod at Nic.
“You’re an attorney,” Percy spat his direction. “Do something.”
“Sure,” Nic said, then proceeded to read him his Miranda rights.
Cam smiled wider with each word. “Nice not to have to do that for a change.” He flipped Percy around and pushed him back against the wall. “Becca told you who we are?”
Percy tried to play dumb. “Becca who?” Failed.
“He recognized me back in the restaurant,” Nic said. “Maybe not you.”
Cam had been masked at Stefan and Anica Kristi?’s condo, and this was technically Nic and Aidan’s case even though Cam had been regularly briefed.
Becca wouldn’t know Cam was the one chasing her now.
Unless Abby . . . He banished the thought, wisely put there by Cam, but not wanting to think about Abby turning on them or cracking under pressure. Or worse, torture.
“I got no idea who you are,” Percy tried again. Failed again.
“You know,” Nic said, “you’re also in the running for Stupidest Crook of the Year. Eating a block away from the scene of the crime, and you didn’t even change out of the fucking suit that’s too big for you. Just ditched the wig.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then how’d you know I was an attorney? How’d you recognize me?”
“I work around here. I’ve seen you before.”
“Give it up, Percy,” Cam said. “We’ve got your prints at the scene and Becca’s deposit in your account.”
“So let’s see, then,” Nic said, holding up a hand and ticking off charges on his fingers. “Evading arrest, breaking and entering, assault and battery, kidnapping, attempted murder.”
Percy changed his tune real fast, going on the defensive. “I didn’t break and enter. The big dude let me in. And I wasn’t trying to murder him.”
“Near thing that,” Cam said. “Giving him a triple dose.”
“He was a big motherfucker,” Percy argued. He probably thought he was helping his case, not digging his own grave. Confessing.
“Add accessory after the fact,” Nic said. “To attempted robbery and felony murder.”
Percy went white as a ghost. “What murder?” The kid’s voice shook, finally properly scared. Properly informed of the pile of shit he’d stepped into. “I ain’t trying to kill no one.”
“Then you better help us, Percy,” Cam said.
Percy’s eyes slid from Cam back to him. “Help you with what?”
Now that they had a pawn, they could set a trap for the queen. “Stop the next robbery.”
“Thank you for delivering my package.” Becca’s satisfied smile was evident in her voice, filling the war room from where it echoed out of the speakerphone. “I’ve just sent the second wire.”
“And the third?” Percy replied.
“The third?”
“You want me on your next job.”
“I like the confidence, Mr. Hunter.”
From where Nic sat, Percy looked anything but confident. Blond hair matted with sweat stuck to his pale forehead. Cuffed hands clasped in his lap, shaking. Eyes full of fear, locked on the script in front of him.
But the kid could front like a pro. “Getting Abby out was a test, wasn’t it?” he read off the cheat sheet. Nic and Cam had drawn up the list of assembled prompts and questions, designed to draw out a confession. Something Nic could use against Becca in court once Cam captured her.
“You passed.” Not exactly a confession, and Bowers knew it too. From across the table, Nic’s boss mouthed, Ask again.
Percy ran his wide eyes down the page once more. “I broke your girl out of the courthouse just like you wanted,” he said. “Proved myself. I want in on the next job.”
Becca dodged again but opened another door. One infinitely more useful. “We should meet. Make sure our interests align.”
“And the third deposit?”
“You seem awfully focused on the money, Mr. Hunter.”
“It’s Percy,” he said. “And do you know what the average monthly rent is in San Francisco these days?” He didn’t read that off the sheet.
Beside Nic, Cam nodded. Nic didn’t think the sympathy a show.
For her part, Becca chuckled, seemingly convinced and amused. “After we meet, Percy.”
Cam shifted forward, reaching over his laptop and pointing at the first potential meet location he’d scribbled on the script. All the places he’d listed had limited ingress and egress points, giving them the best chance for rescuing Abby and taking Becca into custody.
For springing their trap.
Percy proposed the first location. Becca shot him down, offering someplace else.
Not unexpected—she held all the cards—and by the way Cam’s brows raced north, she’d played a surprising one.
Good or bad, Nic couldn’t tell, and Bowers didn’t give them time to assess or counter, giving Percy a thumbs-up and gesturing for him to continue.
“I know where that is,” Percy said. “When do you want to meet?”
“You be there at midnight.”
“Does that mean you’ll—”
Becca hung up, cutting off the rest of Percy’s question. Nic reached out and slapped off the speakerphone, cutting the call on their end as well.
Hunched forward, Percy was still waiting for an answer. “What the fuck did that mean?”
“It means she’ll show up when she’s ready,” Cam answered. “Sometime before sunrise.” He shifted in his chair toward Lauren. “Take him upstairs and get him fitted for eyes and ears. Then call in the tactical teams. Debrief in an hour.”
“On it.” She snapped shut her laptop and stood. “Let’s go, Blondie.”
Percy looked her up and down, and not in the appreciative sort of way. Not that that would have been any more acceptable. Either way would get him neutered by the lady herself.
“Don’t even think it,” Cam said, reading Nic’s thoughts. “Her favorite weapon is a Colt 1911 and she’s trained in hand-to-hand combat.”
“She’ll drop you faster than either of us could,” Nic added.
Cam jutted a thumb at him. “And he’s a former Navy SEAL.”
“Don’t make me ask a second time,” Lauren threatened, indulging in the talking up. Nic didn’t begrudge her the attitude.
Percy snapped to it, following like a well-trained puppy.
Cam tossed her the keys to the cuffs. “I’ll be up shortly.”
The door closed behind them, and when Bowers didn’t speak, Nic turned the floor over to Cam. “All right, Boston, lay the tactical out.”
“We proposed Transamerica Park,” Cam started as he opened his laptop. “Exits with gates on three sides, only three buildings hemming it in, and lots of vantage points, especially from the lower scaffolding of the Pyramid.”
“Becca shot it down,” Nic said. “As we expected she would.”
“But you were surprised by her alternative,” Bowers said.
“At first.” He turned the computer around, a layout of the South Park neighborhood on-screen. “You wouldn’t think South Park much better for her. An oval green, buildings on all sides, two exits at either end.”
“You know the area?”
Fair question. Cam hadn’t been in San Francisco long and he lived down on the Peninsula, not in the city.
“Chased a suspect through there this past winter,” Cam answered. “It’s a real bitch to cover.”
“Why’s that?” Bowers asked.
“Because there’re more than just two exits,” Nic said, his military training kicking in, the urban landscape coming to life in front of him.
Cam nodded. “There are narrow alleyways between, in front of, and behind buildings, and it’s a straight shot through on the ground floor of most. That’s what the perp did in January.
Smashed through a plate glass window, ran the length of the place and out the back door.
This time, we’ll put teams on the rooftops with wider vantage points to cover. ”
“And teams on the surrounding intersections.” Nic pointed at the corners where Second and Third met either end of Bryant and Brannan. “Catch her there if we can’t capture her inside the target area.”
“That’s how we captured the last perp,” Cam said. “The street parking will also help.” He hovered his cursor over the cars bordering the center green. “At rush hour, most of these cars clear out and the residents flood in. My agents will flood in with them, go undetected during the switch.”
Not a foolproof plan—urban combat never was—but Cam had covered as many bases as he could.
It would give them a better than decent shot at capturing Becca and rescuing Abby.
They devolved into tactical planning, pointing out the best rooftops for optimal vantage points, until Bowers shifted in his squeaky chair, reminding them of his presence.
Would be pretty damn hard to ignore him after his next words. “That’s not how it’s going to go down. I want the person Becca’s working for.”
“If she’s working for someone,” Nic said. “Maybe she’s the one calling the shots.”
Bowers gestured at the whiteboard. “Your case board says otherwise.” Nic cursed himself for the fucking question mark he’d scribbled above Becca’s picture. It was a fifty-fifty shot Bowers was right.
“What about Abby?” Cam said. “Percy? They third on your list now?”
“Both criminals,” Bowers replied, and Nic bristled. “You two keep forgetting that.” His black eyes bounced from Cam to Nic, then back to Cam. “Why not let Becca take him and see where they lead us?”
“No way,” Cam said. “This is my op. And it’s a trap, not an insertion.”
“This is our operation,” Bowers said. “And with Aidan gone, I outrank you, Assistant Special Agent in Charge Byrne.”
“Abby’s our informant,” Nic argued, interrupting the pissing match.
“Percy is our bait.” He hated the word, but he’d use it if it brought Bowers around to his and Cam’s plan.
“They could both end up dead if Becca figures us out. We can’t lose any more lives to this.
That would get us more of the wrong kind of attention from DOJ.
Once we capture Becca, we’ll question her about her boss. ”
“If there is one,” Cam clipped, voice harsh, his patience with Bowers wearing thin.
As was Bowers’s with them. “You’re confident you can flip her? You haven’t flipped Scott or Mike yet.”
“Because they don’t know jack shit,” Cam replied. “Becca’s had her own plans for a while now.”
“We can flip her,” Nic said. “Without risking any more lives.”
Bowers stared them down several long seconds before pushing to his feet.
Nic was sure he was going to overrule them. What he gave them might’ve been worse.
“Fine, I’ll give you this one shot.” He stopped over the threshold, his dark eyes cold and hard. “It’s a short rope, gentlemen.”
Yet just long enough to hang themselves.