Chapter 16
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Ryan’s Lair
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Ryan had gotten back a half hour ago. Thankfully, Agent Barkley had gone easy on both his mom and on Kennedy, making Ryan’s goodbyes that much easier. He needed to get back, to his lair and to Yoda.
So, after huge hugs and promises to return as soon as he could break away again—not to mention withstanding a boatload of bragging by Kennedy, who’d won the ice cream contest by a landslide—he’d packed up his Guinness brownie and headed back to the office.
Now, he was hunched over his computer, and he and Yoda were hard at work, decoding Caitlin’s message.
“The Bean part is easy,” Ryan began. “Caitlin is telling us she’s in Boston, which we already suspected.”
“I agree, Ryan,” Yoda responded. “‘Dessert’ is challenging. She’s certainly not telling you about your brownie, which you already knew.
Nor, do I believe, about either your mother’s or Kennedy’s treats.
However, if we follow the logical sequence of her wording, ‘dessert’ would signify the place in Boston where she’s telling you to go. ”
Impatiently, Ryan nodded. “You’re right.
But why ‘dessert’?” What place would that equate with?
A bakery? Which one?” He broke off, his forehead creased in thought.
“And where is there a Boston bakery that makes great Guinness brownies? I went to MIT in Cambridge—until I dropped out—and spent a shitload of time in Boston. Believe me, I’d know if there was a place that did. ”
“Excuse me, Ryan, but I believe you’re being too literal.”
Ryan’s head came up. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, I just performed a destination search in Boston, specifically seeking out locations where college-aged students flock to. It appears there’s a street in Boston where there are several highly frequented night spots. The street is called Guinness Way. Does that hold any memories for you?”
Ryan shot up like an arrow. “Yes. Yoda, you’re brilliant and so am I for creating you.
” He rushed on. “There was a bar on Guinness Way where I used to hang out at when I didn’t want to study or cram for my exams—which was most of the time.
The bar was called Mickey’s Tavern. Great beer.
Great burgers. Great music. Caitlin and Shane went there with me two or three times when they visited. ”
“Mickey’s Tavern.” A brief pause as Yoda tapped into his data banks. “The bar is still there,” he confirmed. “Number 101. I just confirmed that with an aerial sweep.”
“Yesss!” Ryan punched the air. “So we have our place. Now we need specifics.” He calmed down, muttering, “The problem is that Caitlin would never arrange an in-person meeting. Not after taking such great pains to remain in hiding.”
“I agree. Caitlin would not want to appear in public—either inside or outside of a tavern. So how would she connect with you?”
“The exact way I planned—a drop site. So there has to be a spot near Mickey’s where she would expect me to leave her—” Ryan broke off and began to laugh.
“‘Debris.’ Of course. The second time Shane, Caitlin, and I went to the tavern together, we all left more than a little drunk. Shane tripped over the trash can just outside the bar. He fell and broke his big toe. His toe of all things. Not exactly a macho accident. We busted his chops about it for a week. That’s an event Caitlin wouldn’t forget—nor would I. ”
“Therefore, she wants you to leave her something in that trash can?” Yoda inquired.
“Yup. And that means she has a pretty good idea what I have in mind. Like I said, Caitlin is one smart woman. She and I are on the exact same wavelength. I know what to do.”
Ryan stared at the words on the page and let out a groan. “She’s either got a lot of faith in me or she’s crazy. Paddy. St. Patrick’s Day, which is on Friday. She’s expecting my package in two days.”
“At four o’clock,” Yoda finished up.
“Yeah, which doesn’t give me much time.” Ryan was already Slacking the team for an immediate meeting.
“‘Late four.’ I guess I should be grateful. She’s giving me until four p.m., rather than four in the morning.
That gives me a couple of hours overnight, all day tomorrow, and a few hours on the seventeenth.
It takes four plus hours to get from Tribeca to Boston by car.
Personal cars. We can’t leave a paper trail—no train or plane tickets, and no car rental agreements. ”
“I quite agree, Ryan.”
Ryan was already out of his seat. “Call Josh at System76. They’re in Denver, which is Mountain Time, so he’ll still be there.
Tell him to get me two Lemur Pro laptops.
Whatever they have in stock. Configuration doesn’t matter.
Money doesn’t matter. I need it messengered to me now.
The fastest service that can fly it here.
I don’t care if it arrives at three in the morning. I’ll be waiting.”
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Main Conference Room
Second Floor
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Wednesday, March 15, 6:40 p.m.
Ryan barely waited for everyone to be seated before turning to Casey. “I need to talk stat. The clock is ticking.”
“Understood,” she replied. “Go.”
Succinctly, Ryan told the team about the Guinness brownie’s arrival and what the accompanying card said.
“Yoda and I just finished decoding the message Caitlin was sending.” Not even pausing to boast about his accomplishment, Ryan went on to tell them where and when the drop had to be made.
“How can we assist?” Marc asked.
Ryan’s expression was intense as he looked from one teammate to another. “I need you to help me pick out seven convincing destinations—on top of the obvious one—and then to figure out who’s going where on Friday.”
Claire’s shoulders lifted. “Sorry, Ryan. But I think you’ve just lost us all. I don’t even know what it is we’re ‘dropping.’”
“Sorry. My mind is all over the place. Here’s what’s going down: I’m going to be customizing two identical System76 laptops—one for Caitlin and one for me.
They’ll each have a built-in satellite phone.
The communication will have a proprietary end-to-end encryption that makes it impossible to snoop on the communication.
To mask the end points from anyone who could be tracking it, it’ll be bounced through hundreds of different servers. ”
Patrick’s brow furrowed, although he was accustomed by now to the extent of Ryan’s capabilities. “So, if I understand you correctly, you’re saying that based upon your magic laptops, you and Caitlin can be in contact with each other via text, telephone, or video undetected?”
“Nice interpreting skills,” Ryan praised him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. The laptops will be here sometime in the middle of the night.” His features tightened. “I want to give Kennedy the surprise of her life. A St. Patrick’s Day face-to-face talk with her mommy.”
“The timing of all this sounds awfully tight,” Emma said. “I don’t understand computer jargon, but creating two highly customized laptops in less than two days sounds like an overwhelming task, even for you. Can you pull it off?”
“I’ll pull it off,” Ryan stated. “I have to. Caitlin and I will make this virtual meeting with Kennedy happen. Frankly, I think that talking to her daughter is what she had in mind when she determined the date and time of the drop.”
“Hutch’s agents are still watching us like hawks,” Marc reminded him. “You think they won’t notice if you take off for Boston?”
“Of course they will. That’s why I won’t be going there. And that’s where the fun part of this plan comes.”
Ryan lit up like a Christmas tree as he explained.
“Friday morning, all of us will drive our personal cars to work and park in the garage on Duane Street. We’ll walk straight here since the FI offices will be everyone’s starting point.
At ten thirty—leaving ample time for traffic—we’ll all march out single file en route to the garage.
We’ll collect our cars, after which we’ll scatter like cockroaches.
Each one of us will be carrying a laptop bag or a briefcase.
All but one will be stuffed with a shirt box filled with enough magazines to weigh as much as a laptop—which, given my skills, will be the FBI’s natural assumption as to what we’re toting around.
The other bag will hold the real laptop in it.
We’ll each be going to a specific destination; we’ll pick those now. ”
Casey had listened intently and was now nodding, brows drawn together in thought. “Personal cars mean no paper trail. All we have to do is avoid tolls or pay cash.” A smug grin tugged at her lips. “We’ll drive the Bureau crazy.”
“Brilliant strategy.” Marc was clearly enjoying this, as well.
“We’re the good guys, but we get to do a mob impersonation.
To ease this along, we have boxes and boxes of those black poly bubble mailers, each laptop size, in the storage room.
We’ll use those to hold the magazine-filled shirt boxes, and, in one case, the laptop.
Then, we’ll pull them out of our bags and leave them at our respective drop sites. ”
“Oh yeah.” Ryan was at the edge of his seat, loving how the momentum was building.
For the first time, Angela spoke up. “I’m the best choice for the actual Boston drop.
Not only am I the least likely to be on the FBI’s radar, but I have a sister in Brookline, which is directly adjacent to Boston.
I’ll drive straight to the tavern and make the drop.
Then I’ll spend the night at my sister’s and drive back on Saturday.
Does that work?” Her lips twitched. “Because I’m dying to push the FBI’s buttons. ”
This time Casey laughed aloud. “Uh-oh. I fear we’ve created a monster.”
Angela shot her a look. “Remember, I was a defense attorney for high-profile clients who did lots of bad shit. Driving law enforcement—and prosecutors—crazy is in my blood.”