Chapter 30
KYLE
The FBI. The fucking FBI. They’d sent a team of two men to the site without bothering to inform us, and those fucking cowboys had gone rogue and ruined our perfectly planned rescue and arrest operation.
I’d glimpsed their FBI vests the minute I’d covered Ally and turned my gaze upward to locate the shooters.
By that time. Hayes and Wheeler already had them pinned down with their laser sights, ready to tranq their asses into hours of unconsciousness.
The two had dropped their rifle barrels, flashed their badges, and threatened to take us all into custody as if they were in charge.
Kat, as the incident commander and ranking agent on the scene, put a hard stop to that. Unfortunately, she also made Hayes and Wheeler stand down.
When the EMTs and police we’d had waiting nearby arrived with lights and sirens flashing, she transferred scene processing oversight to Lang, which pissed off our new FBI friends to no end.
That was probably why Kat was grinning as she led Ally to the ambulance, where the young woman would be checked and where Kat could take her statement while the details of her hellish day were still fresh in her mind.
Hayes, Wheeler, and I, along with the remaining tactical ops from other teams, collected everything we needed and secured the warehouse and surrounding grounds for the crime scene analysts.
The FBI guys talked into their comms, made sad puppy faces, and occasionally gave us the finger.
That might have been because Wheeler took every opportunity to shoot the signal to them first, but our team had earned that right after their first-class clusterfuck.
When the other HEAT agents returned empty-handed, my heart sank. Riker was in the wind.
After ten minutes with Ally, then a quick chat with the tactical agents who had given chase and the local police chief, Kat joined us.
“Ally’s a little bruised and pretty shaken up, but she’ll be fine.
The state police are calling her mom now, and they’ll drive her home shortly.
She positively identified Riker, which means an arrest warrant and BOLO are being issued for him. ”
“We wouldn’t need a BOLO if those assholes hadn’t shown up,” I said, stating the obvious.
Kat sighed. “They and their commanders are X’s problem now.”
“What about the dogs?” Wheeler asked.
“The local police have been in touch with the nearby animal hospital,” Kat said. “Officer Downey will transport them as soon as the crime scene techs give her the go-ahead.” She glanced at me. “At least they look to be in better shape than Bella was when you and Cami rescued her.”
“That’s not saying a lot,” I said. “And we don’t know about the fourth dog that Riker took with him.”
“About that,” Kat rolled her neck. She looked as exhausted as I felt. “Ally’s pretty worried about that one. Apparently, Riker wanted her to help him remove something from the dog’s abdomen.”
“Fuck me,” I muttered. “More drugs.” No surprise there, but I guess I’d been hoping for a miracle for those dogs.
“Isn’t Ally an intern?” Wheeler asked. “She wouldn’t know how to perform surgery. Why did Riker target her?”
“Opportunity,” Lang and I said in unison.
When you spend a lot of time thinking about how to move people and things in and out of places, including, sometimes, uncooperative individuals, you learn to appreciate the beauty of the occasional sheer-luck opportunity dropping into your lap.
“The rest of the clinic staff live in town or close to it,” I continued. “Ally’s the only one who was out alone on barely traveled back roads.” Damn it, I should have considered that possibility and put her under protective custody as well.
“Knock it off.” Lang elbowed me in the ribs. “We’ll worry about our blind spots when we do the hot wash.” That referred to the after-action reports we would file as soon as the operation ended. “Right now, you need to keep your head in the game.”
“Lang is right,” Kat said. “All of us do. Get the crime scene techs up to speed, then we’ll head back to HQ for our debrief.
And sorry to ruin everyone’s entire weekend, but we’ll meet tomorrow at 0900 to plan our next steps.
I want to put Riker away for a long time, so we’re going to need to dig up evidence of more of his crimes. ”
Pasco joined us. “Especially since there’s nothing here to help us.” He looked at me as he spoke. “No computers, no burner phones, nothing.”
Which meant no trace of the offline kompromat.
“I have no problem working tomorrow,” I said. I wouldn’t have taken the day off, anyway, with Cami still in danger.
Kat and Lang circled back to the police chief while Pasco headed to our van, and Wheeler stepped away to help the other tactical guys set out yellow markers by the bullet and tranq dart casings.
“Rogers, hold up,” Hayes said. “Pasco told Wheeler and me about the recordings of Cami. We’re all in on helping you. Pasco would still like to keep it between the four of us, though.”
“Fine by me,” I said. “As long as you understand what this means. Since we didn’t find any unaccounted-for electronics here, that pretty much guarantees that whatever he has is in his house.”
Hayes nodded his understanding. “You should call Cami to give her the good news. Then we’ll wrap up here, get through the debrief back at HQ, and meet at your place after that to hear Pasco’s plan.”
“He said it will require boots on the ground.”
Hayes glanced at his feet and grinned. “Have boots, will travel.”
“Rangers lead the way, brother,” I said, invoking our shared language from our Army days.
“Damn straight,” he agreed. “Rangers lead the way.”
It turned out that I was one of the pairs of the boots on the ground because I’d insisted.
Hayes and I, still dressed in our all-black tactical gear, less our rifles, slipped into the tiny back yard of Riker’s modest two-story condo.
The fugitive wasn’t holed up there. If he had tried to return, the state police staking out the place would have taken him into custody.
Granted, they hadn’t caught us sneaking into the condo, but we were former special ops. Riker wouldn’t have been able to elude them like we had.
A block away, Pasco oversaw all things electronic, and Wheeler pulled double duty, watching surveillance feeds and running point. We were a small, stripped-down team. Too small if anything went sideways. But assuming things went to plan, this was the best way to execute our operation.
Hayes picked the back door lock and used a handkerchief to turn the door handle. We slipped into the kitchen, turned on our headlamps to supplement the weak light coming in from the street, and snapped on nitrile gloves.
Having memorized the condo’s floorplan, I knew that other than the kitchen, there was only a front living room and an impossibly small powder room on this floor.
But there was an alarm by the front door.
Hayes sprinted through the small space and held up a descrambler to the security control panel, disabling it.
Pasco instructed Hayes on where and how to place the tiny electronic detectors that, when in the right position, would cast an invisible net over the entire condo.
That electronic web would allow Pasco to locate every electronic device in the house, whether it was powered or unplugged, on- or offline, alive or dead.
My role was to ensure there were no print-outs of still shots of Cami from the video.
Pasco had insisted it wasn’t a priority and I shouldn’t remove anything from the house because we were making a surgical strike, not felling a forest. I’d convinced him that naked pictures would still damage her.
The others had agreed I could do a sweep, and if any images of her existed, I could remove those and only those items from the house.
I started with the crawl space above the second floor.
I pulled the trap door open from the hallway, climbed partially up the ladder, and peered into it, my headlamp illuminating the space and throwing long shadows.
There were beams and framing but no insulation over the second-floor ceiling.
It wasn’t up to building codes. I wouldn’t report the landlord any time soon.
I hoped that fucker Riker froze his dick off all winter and sweated his balls off all summer.
But the best thing about the two-foot-high area that spanned the top of the condo was the sightlines. There was nowhere to hide anything.
I hopped back down to the hallway, closed the ceiling hatch, and headed for the upstairs bathroom.
Despite everything being in disarray, including towels and dirty clothes strewn on the floor, Riker was a minimalist, which made my job go faster.
I sifted through every drawer and cabinet, spending the most time looking for hollow spaces and hiding spots.
His bedroom was neater, and while the black silk sheets on the unmade bed were a questionable choice, at least they smelled fresh.
I was grateful for that as I checked over and under every surface of the bed.
I moved the furniture to check the floors and walls, then moved on to the dresser drawers, closet, and three-shelf bookcase.
Behind one of the few books on the bookcase, I spotted a small, black, rectangular box. I’d found the hidden camera Riker had used to violate Cami’s body and her trust. I reached for it. I would crush it the way I wanted to crush that fucking guy’s head.
“Leave it,” Hayes said from behind me.
“What did you find?” Pasco asked.
“The recording device.” Hayes laid his hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the bookcase. “I’ve finished placing Pasco’s toys,” he told me. “I’ll take over checking for hollow spaces. You go through the drawers, closets, cupboards, and furniture.”
I snarled but followed his orders. Technically, I was on his turf, plus we’d all agreed on how to execute this operation. I finished my search of the second bedroom, then went downstairs to continue there.
“Good news for you boys,” Pasco said. “I’m picking up the electronic signature of an air-gap computer. Looks like it’s coming from the first floor, near the back of the house.”
“The kitchen,” Hayes and I said in unison.
“I’m on it,” Hayes said.
Despite the shot of adrenaline that had kicked in at Pasco’s announcement, I stayed focused on my task, trusting Hayes to perform his.
“I see it,” Hayes said. “It’s in a gap in the wall behind the fridge.”
I joined him and helped him move the fridge out farther. Hayes pulled out the machine.
“Let’s see if it’s money,” Pasco said. “Attach the reader to it, somewhere inconspicuous.”
Hayes pulled a tiny, nearly imperceptible, clear disk from his pocket and attached it to the underside of the computer. Thirty seconds later, Pasco confirmed it was what we were looking for.
“There is so much amazing shit on here,” he announced.
Hayes placed the computer back into the gap in the wall and we slid the fridge back into place.
Having located and bugged the correct device and completed the sweep for any other compromising items, it was time to go.
I ran back upstairs to remove the six small detectors Hayes had placed there while he gathered the ones downstairs.
I was getting the last device from the bedroom when Wheeler shouted into the comms.
“Incoming! Shit, they came in on my blind side. Hayes, Rogers, two hostiles incoming.”
“Riker?” I asked.
“Unconfirmed,” he answered. “They’re closing in on the back door. You’ll need to leave by the front.”
Hayes looked out the front window and shook his head at me. “There’s a neighbor out with his dog. We’ll draw too much attention.”
“Neither of the men are Riker,” Wheeler announced. “Both are the wrong build, plus they’re entering the same way you did.”
“B&E?” I asked.
“Affirmative.”
Hayes and I exchanged a glance, then nodded to each other.
“Wheeler, we’ll take them down before they know what hit them,” Hayes said. “By the time they come to, we’ll be long gone.”
“Stand down,” Wheeler said. “Repeat, stand down. I have positive IDs. It’s Forrester and another FBI agent.”
“Fucking FBI,” the four of us said in unison.
“And if you knock them out,” Wheeler said, “you know those whiny fuckers will track us down and arrest us.”