Chapter Eighteen #3
Quaid stood in the middle of Operations, Alanna directly across from him, and spoke the most important truth. “Kerry’s right. He’s either going to read the message and come at you, read it and laugh figuring it’s a trap but come anyway, or walk away.”
“Further, we can’t keep the manhunt going at this intensity for very much longer. A day or two at the most.” Mackey checked the ding on his phone. “Frank. He’s waiting for our strategy to get the word out.”
“We tell Father Eli, then spread the word in the neighborhood where Whit has been hiding? Isn’t that dangerous for the Father? How does this draw him to us?” Harrison looked at each of them. “Not trying to mess with Open Doors and their homeless program.”
Alanna sighed. The lines under her eyes showed the strain. “Is he watching us already? He was before.”
“Shit, have we missed something?” Quaid swiveled to the security cams.
Mackey slapped his shoulder. “Chill, bro. Security was the first thing I tightened. He even breathes on this neighborhood, we’ll get an alert. We have cameras and patrols.”
Quaid settled himself by walking away to study the manhunt data coming across the computer screen. The threat to Alanna was real and he couldn’t stand it.
Harrison went back to the original discussion. “We could plant a man at Open Door for protection. Delaney comes to mind. As long as he doesn’t have to get physical.”
Mackey shook his head. “Talking and walking is one thing. Being armed and having to protect is another. His shoulder isn’t operational yet.”
“I made myself pretty obvious when I was hunting for Whit. Why can’t we use the same technique for Mercer? Pass out my card again. Include Father Eli with specific instructions. Only for anyone who asks.” Alanna pulled out Kerry’s chair and sat.
Harrison eased into the chair in the next cubicle with a groan and rubbed his back. “Tell me again why we’re including Whit? Seems like an unnecessary risk.”
To her credit, Alanna kept her temper. “He wants in. And I’m not sure of the sequence. Did he attack Whit originally to draw me out or is he after me to draw Whit back out? Or is it me not him? I have no answer. It’s logical to bait the trap with both of us.”
“God save us from the plotting of a serial killer,” Mackey muttered. “Let’s go with the business card again. Your FBI card or a QM one?”
Quaid turned back from the board. “QM could be valid. He missed us both here. And his bombing both times, while doing building damage, didn’t do much else. It will give the message a ‘missed me’ sarcastic tone.”
Harrison snorted. “Taunting an assassin. Stellar strategy.”
But Alanna was nodding her head. “Taunting, but subtle. I like it.”
Mackey opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of simple QM business cards. “Get busy writing, Doc. Time’s a wasting.”
“Who delivers?”
Mackey pointed at her. “You do. It’ll be part of the rumors that get back to him. And stick one in the alleyway where the other attack was.”
Quaid rubbed Alanna’s back, then wandered over to Hunt where he stayed arms crossed viewing all the activity.
“Are we getting there?”
It was a moment before he answered. “The tell is in whether it works. This kind of taunting doesn’t go into my missions. We arrive, survey, rescue, kill, blow up, and get out.”
“There are differences for sure.”
Hunt’s focus changed to the far wall and Alanna’s notes. “I haven’t been on a mission since Baxter died.”
Quaid sucked in a breath. “Problems with today’s practice?”
“Nope. My body and brain know exactly what to do. It’s a stab in the heart, though. I was right beside him when he got shot. Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen to Alanna.”
Quaid clasped his shoulder. “I will throw myself in front of her before I let anything happen to her.”
The realization dawned on Hunt’s face. “Confession time?”
Quaid shook his head. “Better tell her first.”
“Ah, yes. Important first. I have to go. I do have a night job.”
Quaid snorted. “Don’t miss all the fun.”
“Oh, I’ll be back. I need to check in, though. Keeps my ass covered.” Hunt tossed off a goodbye to Harrison and Mackey and left.
&&&&&&&&&&
QM International Communication Check: 10:00:30 PST 12/27 – San Diego HQ. All facilities secure. Security Level 4 remains in effect. Maintain current threat posture. Refer to internal transmissions for status updates. ?
Alanna wanted to take off her shoes and rub her feet.
These streets were becoming familiar again, and it burned in a way she didn’t anticipate.
The unexpected smells, the dull colors slashed with sudden brightness, the scurry of individuals who didn’t want in her sphere because yes, she had her badge on. Some things did not change.
She went through the motions of dropping off cards and skimmed through the memories in her head of the steps she’d taken to elevate herself from this desperate circumstance.
She’d worked two jobs for so long, adjusting to one caused panic.
Yes, she’d lived in her car for the first two years of college.
Yes, she’d lived on a tight shoestring and took being frugal with every necessity to a whole new level.
She had people she interacted with, but she kept them out of her corner of the world.
She’d needed one place to call her own, one place to protect her flank.
And now she was living with Quaid. How did that figure in?
Niles had visited her LA apartment yesterday and delivered her things to the bedroom across from Quaid’s.
Two weeks and she moved in with the man.
Was it his money, the food on the table, the clothes Niles kept buying, or was it Quaid?
The man. Not the money. God, she was so confused.
She opened the door to a business she’d frequented many times. Mac was doing the same on the opposite side of the street. Quaid had office business that left him stuck. Sucked to be the corporate face of QM, but his attention to the job was part of their success.
Some sections in the area had been reclaimed and renovated by the city, but some parts were more rundown than ever. She was recognized many places and the familiarity rubbed wrong, too.
She met Mac at a cross street. “Let’s hit the alley.”
Chills raced along her spine, but she agreed.
Mac signaled Bailey who was driving the SUV, and they walked. Three blocks west and four blocks north.
“Are you having second thoughts about this?” Mac watched the surroundings while they made their way along.
“Who wouldn’t. My logical brain is telling me I’m smarter than him. Figure something else out. My pissed off brain says bring it.”
“Been there. Use the smarts from one to temper the stupid of the other.”
“Helpful, Mac,” she muttered, trying not to be sarcastic and not succeeding.
“I may have been a door kicker, Doc, but we trained. Our work wasn’t spontaneous.
It wasn’t emotional. It wasn’t undisciplined.
The only way you get to Tier 1 level is to operate right and full out every fucking time.
That’s where we are. This gets executed to the scope of your skill or you’re dead. This guy doesn’t play.”
Alanna wanted to snap back, but she drew on years of training and stayed in step with the man.
“I shadow box Mercer’s memory in my head every day.
I’d like to say I put it away, but it’s a part of every crime I analyze, every skill I worked double-time to master, and the first thought when the unexpected occurs.
Did that make me good at what I do? I’m questioning that, too. ”
Mac slowed enough to match his pace to hers. “Stop trying to outthink him.”
Confused, she tried to read his face. “That’s your advice?”
“My advice is to know what this is.” His eyes tracked the street as they crossed another intersection. “You’re not setting a trap for him.”
Alanna frowned, then stopped by a street sign. “That’s exactly what we’re doing.”
“No.” He coaxed her to move further along the block and around the corner. “We’re giving him what he already wants and controlling ground zero when he comes for it.”
The words landed hard, mixing with every bit of crap she was trying to keep under wraps.
“He’s not reacting.” Mac moved them around a group of men, giving them a hard eye. “He’s choosing, Alanna. The only variable in this equation is us.”
A wave of premonition swept over her. She crossed her arms tight. “So what is this? Bait and hope?”
“This is precision.” Mac slowed them as they closed in on the final blocks, pointing down the street.
“You step into the alley, you’re the draw.
Everything we’ve built comes to this moment.
” His sharp, direct gaze on her reminded her of a training instructor she’d had at Quantico. He’d been a demanding son of a bitch.
She stayed silent, listening.
“But understand something, Doc. If you hesitate, if you second guess, if you let him get inside your head for even a second…”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t get to say that,” he interrupted, not harsh and angry, just direct. “You decide if you’re steady enough to do it. You.”
Silence stretched between them, feet eating up the distance to the alley. Mac constantly rotated his focus, studying the street, the people, the businesses, the threats.
She let his words settle. “This isn’t about being angry enough to face him, is it?” Truthfully, she’d been managing by assuming it was. But the truth rang in her voice, in her psyche, in her determination. “It’s about being disciplined enough to finish it.”
Mac tipped a head, not agreeing or disagreeing – just letting her absorb the message. “Stay focused on your discipline, the law, everything you’ve learned as an active FBI agent. We don’t go in half-committed. That’s how people die, and I won’t have my friend mourning your death. Not happening.”
She stopped short of the alley and gazed at him, debating how much to say. Her heart ached at his simple statement, and she stumbled over how to explain herself.