CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Faith looked through her field glasses at the site, an old oil field converted to a covert CIA facility.
A chainlink fence surrounded the facility, but a twenty-foot gap opened up in front of them, ringed by charred, twisted metal.
Apparently, the fence was electrified but had suffered a major short that melted an opening into the fence, probably when David and his friend broke into the place to get the proof that would shut them down for good.
Past that fence was a single building the size of a small warehouse.
Inside, Faith saw about ten analysts in office casual clothing feverishly shredding documents and wiping hard drives.
That wouldn’t make a difference since they already had the data, but panicking people didn’t think clearly.
Or maybe the CIA didn’t realize they had that data.
Michael was with Oklahoma PD overseeing the capture of the vehicles and the probable liberation of the dogs. David was still at police headquarters and would remain there under guard until this operation was complete. Jessica and Faith were leading the FBI raid on the facility itself.
“Once you have the vehicles, confirm the dogs are all right,” Faith said.
“All right’s a big phrase, but I’ll make sure they’re alive.”
Faith nodded grimly. “Fair enough. We’ll proceed with the raid on the facility.”
“Ten-four.”
“Jessica, are you ready?” She was on the other side of the property with her own team of FBI SWAT agents. They’d have to cut through the fence, but that would only delay them a minute or so.
“Ready.”
“On my mark. Ready… Set… Go!”
The team sprinted for the facility. Turk surged past the group, leading eight other K9 units—recent graduates of Faith’s class—toward the building.
Faith and the other K9 handlers followed, weapons raised but safeties still on.
No one wanted to kill American citizens unless they were left no other choice.
Behind them, the rest of the SWAT team spread out, rifles raised in case the resistance was heavy.
The K9 units positioned themselves around the front door of the facility. On the other side, more K9s were guarding the rear exit.
Faith stood to the right of the door while two burly SWAT agents positioned themselves in front with a battering ram.
She lifted a megaphone to her mouth with the hand not holding the handgun and said, “FBI! Come out with your hands where we can see them! We don’t want to hurt anyone, but we are armed, and we will fire on you if you resist.”
No answer. Faith sighed and nodded at the agents holding the battering ram. They stepped back, shoulders bunching, but before they could swing the heavy steel ram, the latch clicked. Everyone’s weapons lifted. Safeties clicked off, and Faith reminded them, “Easy, everyone. We won’t fire first.”
The door opened, and a man stepped through.
He was of average height and somewhat conventionally attractive with dark, slick-backed hair, piercing blue eyes, and a well-fitted suit.
From David’s description, Faith recognized Colonel, or rather Agent Randall Chastain, the commanding officer of the 93rd Testing Brigade.
He gave them an imperious look and demanded in a sonorous baritone that belonged on a much more imposing man, “Who’s in charge here?”
“That would be me,” Faith said, stepping forward. “Special Agent Faith Bold of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
A flicker of recognition flashed across Chastain’s face. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “You have no right—”
Faith had no interest in hearing his protests. “Place your hands behind your back.”
Chastain didn’t comply, but when Faith grabbed him and turned him around, he didn’t resist. “This is an outrage,” he said. “You’re interfering with a classified government project—”
“Project Telegraph. I know.”
Chastain flinched. “It’s TK9.”
“Which is an arm of a larger project designed to create telepathically controlled soldiers along with K9 units,” Faith said.
Chastain swallowed. His face was white as a sheet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Pleading the fifth,” Faith said, ratcheting the handcuffs tightly around his wrists. “That’s a good idea. Not sure it’ll make a difference with the six terabytes of data the FBI now has on your operation, but if it makes you feel better.”
Chastain was shaking now. “You’re lying.”
“Sure. Maybe. Guess you’ll find out when you’re brought up on charges.”
Shouts came from the other side of the building, followed by barking and screams. Turk looked at Faith, wanting to know if he should lead the other dogs to assist. Faith shook her head.
“Jessica’s got it.” She turned to the head of her SWAT team.
“Forrest, take the others into the facility. Take whatever evidence these cowards haven’t wiped.
Take the shredded documents too. We can put them together if the courts feel like having more than the digital data. ”
Forrest nodded and led the team into the building. Faith gestured with her head for Turk to follow, and he led the dogs and their handlers inside.
Over the radio, Jessica said. “I have ten in custody.”
“Perfect. I have the big boss. Well done everyone. No casualties. Just like we hoped.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Chastain promised. “This is a sanctioned government operation. We’re not some illegal corporate vanity project. We were ordered to conduct these tests.”
Faith’s radio chirped again. “Got the dogs,” Michael said.
“Good news. Thanks, Michael.”
To Chastain, she said, “We have the dogs and the whistleblower you illegally tortured. So, I really hope your orders were specific. Either way, please tell the investigators everything. If this goes higher than you, we want to take that trash out too.”
Chastain’s left eye twitched for several seconds before he replied, “This is bullshit. This is… Damn it, we’re trying to secure the future of our national defense. Why is everyone so goddamned na?ve?”
His voice was rough now, almost gravelly. Apparently, the stentorian tone was an affectation.
Faith called for vehicles for transport and turned him around.
As she marched him past the charred section of fence, he said, “I should have killed your husband when I had the chance. I just…” He laughed, the reality of his failure driving him manic or maybe just stripping away the facade in front of his sanity.
“I just can’t believe this. We were going to secure the safety of our nation for decades. Centuries.”
“Yeah, I doubt that,” Faith said, “but believe whatever you need to believe.”
“Over dogs?” he spat. “Seriously? They’re animals! They’re tools! Why are you treating us like we were torturing people?”
“First of all,” Faith said, shoving him through the opening in the fence, “you were torturing people. Killing them, in fact. The data my husband and his partner found proves that you, and I mean you personally, Mr. Chastain, ordered the murders of at least three people. Well, four, but you didn’t manage to kill David.
He made it. And he brought you down. I want you to remember that, Mr. Chastain.
As you spend the rest of your life rotting in a maximum-security prison, I want you to remember that you were defeated by a single veterinarian with a big heart, more courage than you’ve ever shown in your life, and good friends willing to stand up for what’s right. ”
“I sincerely hope you live long enough to watch us overrun,” Chastain hissed. “I sincerely hope you watch our enemies defeat us because you wanted a few dozen animals to receive pats on the head and kisses from toddlers.”
Faith didn’t reply. She’d gloated enough, and if Chastain was capable of understanding how stupid he sounded, he wasn’t capable of accepting it.
Maybe later when he was shut in the concrete box that would be his home for the next forty-plus years, he’d have time to reflect on the foolishness of his actions.
The armored van that would transport Chastain to an FBI detention center and from there to trial in D.C. pulled up. Faith pushed him into the back. He went quietly. Maybe he was already starting to reflect. Or maybe not. Faith was done concerning herself with maybes.
She closed the door and tapped her radio. “Chastain is ready for transport. Good work guys. We’ll wrap up here, and then it’ll be up to the courts to figure out how they want to proceed.”
“Roger that,” Jessica said. “Well done, Faith.”
Faith smiled, her throat constricting a little as she realized this was her last-ever mission with her now-former partner. “Thanks. You too.”
A bark sounded over Jessica’s radio, and Faith laughed. “You too, Turk. Good job, boy. Very good job.”
“Holy shit!” Michael exclaimed over the radio. “We have Jayce Broward too!”
Faith’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s been beaten pretty badly, but he’s alive.”
Faith’s spirits lifted. She hadn’t expected to find David’s friend alive. “Outstanding. David will be so happy.”
“Hell yeah. God, I love happy endings.”
“They sure beat crappy endings,” Faith said.
All three of them laughed.
The van pulled away, choosing to take the mastermind of the unit to custody ASAP rather than wait for the others. Faith walked back to the building to rejoin her K9 and her partner. The last obstacle had been cleared. Now she had nothing to look forward to but the bright future beyond.