Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
“ W e need eyes and ears inside Al-Jabiri’s house—today.”
The entire office snapped to attention, turning toward Pat.
“How?” Anna asked. “You said yourself that his security system is too advanced. We can’t get inside to plant them.”
“There’s gotta be a way.” Pat turned to Blade. “Can’t we feed a scope through the wall or something?”
Blade shook his head. “Too risky. He’d notice a hole.”
Viper leaned forward. “We once fed a camera through a satellite cable, threading it through the same hole. Nobody noticed.”
Pat narrowed his eyes. “Where’d it come out?”
“Wherever the cable enters the house,” Viper said. “It’ll only be visual, though. That’s the downside.”
Pat grimaced. Not perfect, but it’d have to do.
“That’s good enough. Get a team on standby. As soon as the house is empty, we move.”
Anna coordinated the op, and within an hour, a white panel van marked Capital Satellite Communications pulled out of the Blackthorn underground garage, followed closely by an unmarked surveillance SUV.
“In position,” Viper confirmed from the satellite van outside Al-Jabiri’s house a short time later. With him was another operator, to assist with the installation of the surveillance camera.
Meanwhile, the unmarked SUV sat parked at a discreet distance across the street. Inside, Cole and Phoenix monitored the operation, keeping eyes on the house and feeding intel back to Anna at HQ.
“As soon as they leave, let me know,” Anna said over the comms. “Team Alpha is ready to move in.”
“Copy that.”
Pat paced outside his office, waiting for the signal.
Finally, it came.
"Targets are mobile. Falcon and Buzzard left on foot. The woman went with them. They are heading north toward Columbia Heights Station."
Pat keyed into the secure comms network from Anna’s desk. “Keep eyes on them,” he ordered.
“Am following,” came Cole’s tinny reply signifying he was mobile too. They could hear his footsteps on the sidewalk, steady and rhythmic, blending into the pedestrian flow. “Got eyes on the targets.”
A minute later?—
“Falcon and Buzzard have entered the metro station. The woman has gone into the local library. What do you want me to do?”
“Stay with the woman,” Anna confirmed, glancing at Pat.
He nodded. She’d made the right call. The woman was their immediate priority. Adrenaline buzzed through his body, making him feel like he’d had a gazillion cups of coffee.
“You okay?” Anna asked, holding aside the radio.
No, he wanted to be there.
“I’m heading to the scene,” he decided, pulling on his leather jacket.
Blade shot their skipper a warning look. “Make sure you stay out of sight. Al-Jabiri and Jasmine McCarthy have both seen you.”
Wise words as always from the ops manager. “I’ll be careful.”
“Cole’s got a body cam,” Anna added. “We’re patching the live feed into the surveillance van.”
Pat nodded and strode out the door, his mind already on their next move.
He took the stairs two at a time, bypassing the elevator. No time to wait. The underground garage was dimly lit, the low hum of idling engines filling the space.
His motorcycle sat where he’d left it. Grabbing his helmet and pulling it on, he swung a leg over and revved the engine. The tires screeched as he tore out of the garage, weaving through D.C. traffic with practiced ease.
A short while later, he cut the throttle and pulled up behind the surveillance SUV, parked discreetly across from Al-Jabiri’s house. He killed the engine, parked the bike, then tapped on the SUV’s tinted window.
Phoenix cracked open the door.
“Mind if I join?”
The operator grinned. “Would it matter if I said no?”
Pat slid inside, eyes already on the screen. “What’s our status?”
Phoenix handed him an earpiece and pointed at the image.
“Cole’s outside the library keeping tabs on Mrs. McCarthy. Viper’s up the ladder, running the satellite feed into the house.”
Pat studied the video feed from Cole’s body cam.
He saw the instant she appeared. A slender figure stepped out of the library, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. His stomach tensed.
Phoenix sat bolt upright. “Shit. She’s on the move.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t head home yet,” Pat muttered, as Phoenix got on the comms. “How long?” he asked Viper, still on the roof.
“Another fifteen minutes,” came the terse reply.
They watched as Jasmine walked along the sidewalk, the wind lifting her scarf. She reached up, catching it just before it blew off. Her hair slipped free, pale strands dancing around her face. Pat couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was beautiful, effortlessly composed—even in the wind.
They watched as she turned into a coffee shop.
Cole had obviously taken up position outside. “She’s grabbing coffee. Over.”
Phoenix exhaled.
Pat kept his gaze locked on her through the glass. It was hard to see past the reflection.
“She’s getting it to go,” Cole reported. “Whoa, hang on a minute.”
“What?” Phoenix asked.
“The barista just handed her something. Looks like another bag.”
“What the hell is she up to?” Pat murmured.
They watched as she reached inside the second bag and pulled out what looked to be a notebook, a pen, and?—
A phone.
“She’s making a call,” Cole barked. “I can’t get any closer without blowing it.”
Damn it.
The call lasted just under a minute. After she’d hung up, she dropped her head into her hands, and they saw her shoulders shaking.
Pat’s chest tightened. She was crying.
But why?
Who had she spoken to?
Jasmine sniffed, wiped her eyes, then handed the bag back to the barista, taking her coffee.
“She’s leaving,” Cole confirmed.
Pat’s stomach knotted. “How much longer does Viper need?”
“At least five more minutes,” Phoenix said. “The wall’s pure concrete.”
Crap. They weren’t going to make it.
Cole kept updating them. “Target’s two streets away. One street.”
Pat turned to Phoenix. “What’s the status?”
“Viper needs more time.”
“Fuck.”
Cole’s voice was urgent now. “She’s turning into Amir’s street.”
Pat made a split-second decision. “We have to run interference.”
Phoenix took off his earphones. “You want me to?—"
“I’ll handle it.” Pat threw open the van door.
Phoenix spun around. “You’re going in?”
“She’s seen you before,” Anna reminded him from HQ.
“Exactly.”
Leaving his earpiece in, Pat sprinted down the sidewalk, turning the corner just as Jasmine rounded it from the other direction.
They collided—hard.
“Oh!” she gasped, stumbling back.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Pat said, reaching for her. Then, he paused and let his eyes widen, as if recognizing her for the first time. “You… You were with Amir Al-Jabiri at the restaurant yesterday, weren’t you?”
She gasped and stepped out of his arms.
“Oh, my God. You’re the man who nearly killed him.”
She took another step away from him.
“I know.” Pat raised his hands, hoping she wouldn’t run. “I apologize if I scared you. Amir and I go way back.”
Blade’s voice hit his earpiece. Anna had obviously called him over and told him what was going down. “What the hell are you doing, boss?”
Pat casually scratched his head, yanking the earpiece out and slipping it into his pocket.
Jasmine eyed him warily. “What are you doing here?”
Pat gave a carefully timed sigh. “I had to drop something off and was heading back to the office. I’m late, which was why I was rushing. I didn’t mean to nearly flatten you.”
She studied him. “You work nearby?”
“A few streets over.” He nodded in the opposite direction of Al-Jabiri’s house. A lie—but a believable one. “I’m Patrick, by the way.” He extended a hand. “And you are?”
A pause.
“Jasmine.”
He smiled. At least she wasn’t lying about her name.
“Well, good to meet you, Jasmine. And again—sorry about yesterday.”
She hesitated. “I know this might seem strange, but can I ask you something?”
Pat tilted his head, feeling himself drawn to those emerald flecks. “Sure.”
“What did Amir say to you? What made you attack him?”
Direct. No hesitation.
Now that was interesting. Then, he remembered she was a psychologist. Maybe it was professional curiosity. In any event, she was used to asking hard questions.
“It’s personal.” He dropped his gaze. “But I shouldn’t have reacted in that way. It wasn’t professional.”
She studied him, searching. Why did he get the feeling she was seeing more than he wanted her to? “You’re in the military?”
Damn, she was good.
He snorted. “Used to be. Is it that obvious?”
She shrugged, but her gaze softened. “To me it is.”
He frowned, pretending to be confused.
“I’m a psychologist,” she explained. “I treat former military personnel for PTSD, among other things.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Viper would have installed the feed by now. He didn’t want to blow it by overdoing it, even though the urge to talk to her for longer was strong.
She gave a hesitant smile, then stepped past him. “It was . . . interesting meeting you, Patrick.” That’s exactly the word he would have used.
He dipped his head. “Likewise.”
As soon as she disappeared, he slipped the earpiece back in.
Phoenix’s voice crackled through. “All clear. The feed is live.”