Echo
Burke and Tessman cautiously opened the outer door of the warehouse office and glanced around the area.
It was quiet. The only vehicle in sight was their SUV, still parked across the street.
From this vantage point, they noted how private the front of the building was.
The buildings on either side of this one were not set back quite as far, and their parking lots were on the far sides of each building, thus making it impossible to see what was in either of their parking lots.
And since they both sat closer to the road, from their location at this door, they couldn’t see further down the road beyond the neighboring buildings either. They were going out blind.
The hairs on the back of Burke’s neck stood up. It wasn’t that he saw anything suspicious, but something just felt off. When Tessman unholstered his weapon, Burke knew that he felt it too.
“I’m going to take a look around that corner before crossing to the vehicle,” he said, pointing to the side of the building he and Tessman had gone around to get to the back when they arrived.
“I’ll check the other side,” Tessman said. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to circle the neighboring buildings before we expose ourselves by crossing the street.”
“Makes you wonder why the back door was unlocked when we got here,” Burke said. “Was that office lady expecting someone else to come in the back?”
“That won’t be happening now without a lot of noise. It’s locked, dead bolted, and I have a stop propped against the door,” Tessman said.
“What do you have up front?” Wilson’s voice came through comms.
“Just a feeling,” Burke replied. “Find out why that back door was unlocked.”
“Roger that,” Wilson replied.
Burke nodded to Tessman, and then they both slid out of the door, going in opposite directions to the two corners of the building. Burke gripped his weapon, holding it down at his side as he quickly strode across the driveway, his boots crunching the loose gravel.
He plastered his back against the metal wall and then peeked around the corner.
No one was there. He hastened the length of the building and repeated the same.
Poking his head around the corner, he saw three men at the back door trying to open it.
He pulled his head back before anyone had seen him, as their focus was on the door.
“Three Tangos at the back door,” he transmitted as his long strides ate up the distance, retreating to the front of the building.
He pulled himself around the front of the building as a dark blue cargo van drove by the front of the building really slowly.
Its driver, a white male, watched him closely.
He broke into a full run, crossing the street behind the van to the agency SUV.
“Dark blue cargo van on the street. It’s time to move, boys and girls. ”
No sooner had the words left his mouth, and the garage door on the warehouse rolled open.
Burke slid into the driver’s seat of the agency SUV and turned the engine over, immediately shifting to drive.
His eyes never left the blue cargo van, which pulled into the driveway of the next building and executed a U-turn.
Its hood was pointed directly at the SUV Burke drove.
“The van pulled a U-ie,” Burke added.
Tessman suddenly appeared from the side of the building, running at full speed. Instead of crossing the street, he ran towards the blue van, which had floored it and was picking up speed.
“Handsome, you need to pick up Moe,” Wilson advised.
Burke saw Wilson through the open garage door as he got into the front passenger seat.
At that same moment, shots rang out. Burke’s eyes went to Moe, who shot out two of the tires on the van.
The van immediately veered in the direction of the shot-out tires and side-swiped a utility pole.
The screech of metal against metal when it collided with the pole continued as the impact left dents and scrapes along the entire length of the van.
Burke pressed his foot on the accelerator, pushing it to the floor.
He pulled in front of Moe as gunfire came from the van, gunfire aimed at Moe.
The Shepherd Security vehicle was armor-plated, and the windows were outfitted with bulletproof glass.
The white SUV, driven by Rogers, with Wilson in the front passenger seat, flew out of the garage just as the three Tangos who Burke had seen at the back door came around the side of the building.
“Tangos from the back door,” he broadcast as Moe got into the SUV with him. “Took them long enough.”
“Tells me the van isn’t in radio communication with them,” Tessman said.
Burke fell in behind the white SUV, and they sped out of the area. Both Burke and Tessman kept watch for a tail, but no one seemed to be following them. Both vehicles took the on-ramp to the interstate and headed south. Getting out of the immediate area was the only plan they had.
“Wilson’s on the phone with Big Bear,” Rogers transmitted. “Do you see anyone tailing us back there?”
“Negative,” Burke reported.
“It doesn’t make sense that they don’t have other assets nearby,” Tessman said.
“Maybe they didn’t have time to get them in place,” Burke offered.
“We’re heading to St. Francis, south of Milwaukee, where we’ll turn everyone over to the FBI,” Wilson transmitted.
“Taco, did you have time to find out why that back door was unlocked?” Burke asked.
“No,” he answered. “I will now.”
Wilson left his comms on transmit. Burke and Tessman heard his questioning of those from the warehouse, who were all uncomfortably crammed into the back seat of the white SUV.
“Why was the back door unlocked?” Wilson asked.
“I must have forgotten to lock it when I went in,” the voice belonging to the woman who had been in the front office said.
“What’s your name?” Wilson asked.
“Stacy,” she said.
“Last name?” Wilson pressed, pissed that he had to ask.
“Ramsey.”
“You came in the back and didn’t lock it,” Wilson recapped.
“I must have forgotten. I was rushing to get there when Valerie called me from the airfield. I had to be there to open the garage door when they arrived.”
“What’s your part in this?” Wilson asked.
“I’m just a friend.”
“Of whom?” Wilson continued.
“Of mine,” Valerie Butler stated. “Is this necessary? Stacy is only involved in this because she’s my friend and I needed someone I could trust to help when we got dragged into this mess.”
Burke found that an odd statement. A friend is the last person he’d put in danger by dragging them into something like this. “Not likely,” he transmitted. “She had a key to the back door. She’s in this deeper than just helping a friend today.”
“Today wasn’t a one-off. You were very comfortable in that front office. You’ve helped them with something illegal, like treating gunshot wounds in a warehouse without reporting the people to the authorities,” Wilson recapped. “You’re one hell of a good friend.”
“I never said today was the only help I’ve given Valerie and Tom,” Stacy said.
“You need to tell me what you’re not telling me, or you’re my number one suspect for tipping those guys off that Ellison was here, and you left the back door unlocked so they could easily get in,” Wilson said.
“What? That’s crazy! Stacy would never!” Valerie defended.
“I didn’t,” Stacy said. “You don’t even know if those men were sent by Mark Ellison.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure they were,” Wilson said. “Who else would have been at the back door?”
Silence answered his question.
“Did any of you recognize those men?” Rogers asked.
All four denied any knowledge of the men, not that they got a good look at them.
“Does anyone else have keys to the building?” Wilson asked.
“There’s a keypad on the rolling door. Mark and about a half dozen others have the code,” Valerie said. “So they could have come in the front door.”
“And lose the element of surprise,” Wilson added.
“They didn’t need to. Just the fact that they were there would have surprised us,” Valerie said. “Unless they knew about you,” she added, finally getting it.
“Oh, she’s sharp,” Burke said sarcastically.
“So, how’d he know we were there?” Tessman broadcast.
Wilson repeated Tessman’s statement to the occupants of the white SUV.
“We’re the victims,” Tom Butler said. “Do you think we went through the trouble to get Brandon out and then sabotaged it by letting Mark know what we were doing?”
“No,” Wilson said. “Why would you do that?”
“We wouldn’t,” Tom insisted. “Maybe Brandon is right. Maybe we weren’t as careful as we thought we were. Maybe someone did see something in Minneapolis that gave our ruse away.”
“What’s the makeup of this militia group?” Rogers asked.
“What do you mean?” Brandon asked.
“What are their affiliations?” Rogers clarified.
“They don’t have any,” Brandon said. Even listening through comms from the other vehicle, Burke could hear in his voice that he didn’t understand the question.
“Are they white supremacists? Left-wing liberals or far right conservatives? Christians or atheists?” Wilson asked.
“No, none of the above. They’re just normal people who have seen the corruption in this country get worse over the last twenty-five years and are sick of it.
They see that the government is run by a bunch of elitists who manipulate everything for their own wealth and power, regardless of party, and they’re prepared to defend our way of life,” Brandon said.
“Every system is broken in this country and none of them are trustworthy.”
“So, what does this group plan to do about it?” Wilson asked.
“There’s a civil war coming.”
“Whoa, that kid knows the company line,” Burke said. “He’s one hundred percent one of them.”
“Agreed,” Wilson’s voice came through comms. Brandon Ellison would have thought Wilson concurred with him. “When do they plan to start this civil war?”