Chapter 22
“What’s her status?” Director Brown asked.
“Unharmed,” Agent Carmine answered. “Chen is getting her cleaned up. She was covered in blood.”
“From the men she helped?” the director asked.
“Yes sir,” Agent Hawke replied. “She saved two of my guys. She’s clearly had training—a lot of training. Never hesitated, never froze up.”
“She’s been in combat before?” Agent Steele asked.
“No sir, but she told me that she’s observed Rangers in war games—like a whole bunch of them,” Agent Carmine answered. “She has been in a tear gas chamber and run multiple shoot houses. She knew the sound of a flashbang bouncing on a floor without seeing it.”
“Alright, what happened? From the start.”
“We were knee-deep in the pharmacist thing when I noticed she was gone. I panicked a little but found her curled up in her room, watching Netflix. She was hungry, so we went to the commissary for pizza. While we were there, the evidence transport people came in, carrying their cases. I knew one of them. Cassie saw one of the others and alerted me that he had worked for William Cramer. She headed out and I followed.”
“She fled?” Agent Frayer asked.
“No. She was calm and controlled. But she’s small, very young looking, and she was wearing clothes that clearly were not FBI standard apparel.
One of the other armored car guards spotted her, and they gave chase.
We made it to the bottom floor and came out right in HRT.
They must have had folded PDW-sized weapons in their cases because they opened up, but we were already entering Agent Hawke’s office. ”
“My guys responded instantly,” Hawke said, “but Agent Basely took a full burst to the face. The rest fought back with sidearms, as did Agent Carmine and myself, although the girl grabbed my ballistic shield and brought it to me. That made a big difference, as did the rifle and magazines.”
“She didn’t act like a civvie?” the director asked.
“She acted like one of my HRT people. Sir, can we clone her?” Hawke joked. “Better responses than half the field agents I’ve worked with.”
“When the shooting stopped, I noticed that she had a wounded agent’s Glock in her possession,” Agent Carmine said. “She’s had a lot of weapons training.”
“Okay, let’s change topics,” the director said. “She was sure this guy had worked for Cramer?”
“He did, sir,” Red answered. “Transferred to this armored evidence carrier two weeks ago. The company is partially owned by an offshore company whose chain of ownership is complicated and obstructed but leads back to Cramer.”
“I think it is time to talk to William Cramer,” Director Brown said. “Right after I brief the president.”
“That’s going to be difficult, Sir. Cramer has left the country. We think he’s on his private island near Taiwan,” Frayer said.
“I would like something more than I think when I brief the president. Which reminds me, Agents Steele and Carmine, you will be going with me to the White House—along with Miss Blake. The president wants to meet her. Agent Carmine, any chance we can get her a bit more presentable for the White House?”
“I think so, sir.”
“Okay. We leave in an hour. I’ll need up-to-date information on the attackers, Cramer, as well as casualties and damage to this complex.”
The meeting broke up and Rose Carmine moved to the doorway as fast as she could. Agent Steele met her there. “You getting Cassie?”
“Yes sir. I’m going to raid the undercover closet, then see to both her and me,” she said, waving a hand at her torn and stained suit.
“Alright. Red and I will build out the director’s report. You’ve got forty-five minutes.”
“On it.”
The complex had a rather large collection of clothing and accessories for undercover operations, and Rose knew it well. She gathered two outfits for Cassie and one new suit for herself, then headed to the overnight quarters.
Letting herself in, she was met with a towel-wrapped eighteen-year-old holding a karambit knife.
“You borrow that from Hawke?” Rose asked, impressed by both the fact that the girl had a serious weapon and by the way she held the curved, talon-shaped fighting knife.
“I thought I was going to need to slice that agent’s pants. It just sorta ended up with me,” Cassie said, looking down at the blade before spinning it around in her hand and then handing it to Rose, handle first. “Sheath is on the bed.”
“I brought you some outfits. Pick one to meet the president in,” Rose said, enjoying the flash of surprise on the teen’s face.
“Wow. Really?”
Rose nodded and held up each outfit, one in each hand. A navy pantsuit versus a burgundy sweater with a charcoal skirt.
“The suit. Navy’s a good color for me, and that skirt looks like it comes from the uniform of a girls’ academy. Not the image I want the most powerful man in the world to have of me.”
“Good call. I got one for me in charcoal. And I’m using your shower,” Rose said, peeling off her dirty, ripped jacket.
“Oh, sure. Mi casa and all that,” Cassie said, blinking a few times. Then she turned back to get ready.