Charlie
After disconnecting the call with Donna, Burke opened the car door and slid into the front passenger seat that had been vacated by Rogers, who still surveilled the front doors of the urgent care center. “Any developments?” he asked Wilson.
Wilson turned the engine over and shifted to drive. “Yeah, Rogers reports that our girl just exited the building through the front doors and got into a white SUV driven by her husband.”
“Per her file, he drives a pickup truck,” Burke said.
“Yeah, Rogers called the plates into Ops to run ‘em,” Wilson said.
Wilson circled to the front of the building and momentarily stopped the vehicle as Rogers got into the back seat. “The white Tahoe turned right,” Rogers said, pointing in the direction it had gone. “We should be able to catch up pretty quickly. They don’t have too much of a lead.”
Wilson pulled out onto the street and stopped behind the white SUV containing Valerie and Tom Butler, as they had gotten stopped at the next stoplight.
“We need a second car,” Burke said.
“Didn’t think we’d need to tail our supposed client,” Wilson said. “But I agree. We’ll get one as soon as we can.”
They were easily able to tail the SUV to the municipal airport where it pulled up to a hangar at the far end of the row of hangars.
They drove past it and drove behind another hangar across the paved taxiway between the two rows of identical hangars that faced each other.
Then Wilson looped the car around and parked beside one of the hangars so that they could observe.
Several minutes later, a Cessna Citation, which had just landed, pulled up to the hangar beside the white SUV.
Burke brought up the airport’s information on his phone, as he’d been surprised by the size of the plane as it landed.
He emitted a whistle. “Says here the runway length at this airstrip is thirty-four hundred feet. That landing was tight for that aircraft’s weight and landing requirements; must be a hell of a pilot at the controls. ”
“Talented or stupid,” Tessman remarked.
“Or engaging in something illegal and willing to take the risk,” Rogers added.
Wilson had his phone set to camera mode, and he snapped a few magnified pictures of the scene, including the tail number on the plane. “It would be great if that is the case and we can document it.” The agency phones had the best cameras money could buy.
The four men watched as Valerie and Tom Butler rushed to the plane’s cabin door that was just opening.
Both still wore scrubs. A man appeared in the open doorway, half-cradling, half-dragging another limp, lifeless looking man.
The Butlers took him under his arms from the other man and dragged him to their vehicle where they, along with the man who’d been holding him in the doorway to the plane, helped to lay him across the back seat.
Then the Butlers hopped back into the vehicle, and it sped away.
“What the fuck?” Burke voiced for all four men.
They followed from a distance and were surprised to find the destination was not the urgent care center, nor was it a hospital.
They drove directly to a warehouse in a small industrial area in Shawano.
The SUV pulled into the faded white building, the large overhead door closing after they were inside. There was no signage on the building.
Wilson parked across the street from the warehouse. In the back seat of the SUV, Tessman leaned into the back area and grabbed the flexible-neck camera from its case. All four men inserted their comms as Wilson called into Ops.
“Ops, go,” Yvette ‘Control’ Donaldson’s voice came through the speaker on Wilson’s phone.
Wilson relayed the situation and gave her the address of their location, not that she couldn’t have looked it up on the agency tracker system.
“I’m sending photos now.” He accessed his photos and sent all of them from the airport and the new one he’d just taken of the warehouse their vehicle sat across from.
“Roger, I’ll get them to the Digital Team.”
Burke had been busy on his phone, searching the property records for ownership of the building. “They’re going to have to dig into the ownership of this property. Nothing tangible is coming up on a quick search,” he said.
“Roger that,” Yvette said. They could hear the clicks of her fingers flying over her keyboard.
“I’d sure like to know ownership before we go in,” Wilson said.
“I just sent the file to Smith, and he’s already working on it,” Yvette said. “And I notified Shepherd.”
The men on the ground in Shawano did not like waiting while the condition of the man who’d been brought off the aircraft was unknown.
But they preferred not to go in blind. They waited for five minutes before Caleb ‘Hound Dog’ Smith’s voice came across the speaker.
“Here’s what I dug up on the structure at your location.
It’s owned by an LLC that traces back to Tom Butler through a couple of loosely hidden partnerships, done kind of sloppy, actually.
The LLC is Medical Majesty, a medical charity whose filings say it supports children of low-income single mothers. ”
“Well, the unconscious man being dragged from the Cessna was neither a child nor a single mother,” Burke said.
“And no low-income person is flying around on a private jet,” Wilson added.
“You’re authorized to go in. Proceed with caution,” Shepherd’s voice said next.
None of the men knew he was on the line.
“Disclose your federal status, if necessary, Moe taking the lead with his FBI creds unless something on site dictates another agency. Report back to me after you’ve breached the structure. Control, stay on line with them.”
“Roger that, Big Bear,” Yvette said.
“Thanks, Big Bear,” Wilson said.
The four men exited the vehicle. Wilson pointed at Burke and Tessman.
“Circle around to the back. There has to be a window or a door on the side of the building or the back. Optimally, we get a look inside before we breach so we know what we’re walking into.
Rogers and I will go in through the front and see who’s in the office and see what kind of reception we get by this medical charity. ”
The men separated and approached the building. Wilson and Rogers walked towards the main entrance into the building that was in the middle of the building. Burke and Tessman veered to the left, as they knew the right-side wall had no doors or windows.
Through their comms, Burke and Tessman heard their two teammates enter the office of the building. “Hello, ma’am,” Wilson said. “We’d like to see Doctor Tom Butler, please.”
“So polite,” Burke said to Tessman.
“There’s no one by that name here,” the woman said.
“Is this or is this not Medical Majesty?” Wilson asked.
Burke and Tessman chuckled at what they heard as they made their way down the side of the building.
Half-way down its length, they came to a window.
No blinds, no curtains. Inside, it looked like an office.
No one was inside and the door to the inside of the building was closed.
Burke tried the window. It was locked. They could come back to it and break the window to breach if needed.
“Yes, ma’am, Tom Butler is one of the partners of Medical Majesty,” Wilson insisted.
Burke and Tessman continued until they came to the next window.
It was higher up on the wall, a transom window.
Burke, who was a foot taller than Tessman, took the camera, and bent the flex-neck to ninety degrees.
He raised it so it would give them a view inside as the conversation in the office continued, the woman denying knowing Tom Butler.
Tessman had the feed patched through to his phone.
He held his phone so that both he and Burke could scrutinize the display on his screen.
Inside the room was a multi-bay medical treatment room.
The curtain dividers were all open. There was only one bed in use that they could see.
There were two figures in scrubs with their backs to the window.
They were the same size and body shape as Valerie and Tom Butler.
“What the fuck? Ops, are you seeing the feed?” Burke transmitted.
“Negative, whose phone is patched into the camera?” Yvette asked.
“Moe’s,” Burke answered.
“I’ll tap in.”
“Be advised, we have the unconscious male and the two targets in a room that is set up as a medical treatment area in the west-middle section of the building,” Tessman transmitted so that Wilson and Rogers would know.
“There is an unoccupied office we saw through a window adjacent to the target location we can gain entry through if necessary.”
“Ma’am, Tom and his wife, Valerie, just entered through the garage door,” Wilson said as Rogers moved to stand beside the woman.
“Why don’t you place your palms flat on the desk for me?” Rogers said to the woman, drawing his weapon.
She let out a startled gasp and complied with his request.
“See if you can get in the back door. We’re going to breach the inside from our location,” Wilson broadcast.
“Roger that,” Tessman replied.
The two men rushed to the back of the warehouse, where they found two doors. The door closest to them was unlocked. “Got an unlocked door on the northwest side of the building. In position to breach,” Burke broadcast.
“Who else is inside?” Wilson asked the woman in the front office.
“No one,” she whined.
“Look, someone’s going to get hurt if you’re lying to us,” Rogers said. She noticeably stiffened at his words, interpreting them as a direct threat to herself.
“We know Tom and Valerie Butler are back there in a room set up like a medical treatment room with an unconscious man they just took off a jet at the municipal airport. We haven’t determined what crime is being committed yet, but you’ll go down for it too if you don’t stop lying to us and give us some straight answers,” Wilson threatened her.
“Are you law enforcement? Feds?” she asked.
Wilson nodded.