Chapter 9
I lucked out and found a parking spot in a residential zone, just a block away from where we were meeting the team. I pulled
our GRS company Jeep into it and Jennifer said, “You’re going to get a forty-five-dollar ticket.”
It was only a two-hour spot without a residential tag, and we were guaranteed to be parked here longer than that, but I figured
I was good. I said, “Nobody’s coming by marking tires this late at night.”
She raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. I could tell she was still a little miffed that I’d used Amena to track the
laptop, but honestly, I think it was more because she’d missed the action than it was me leveraging our daughter. Playing
a terrorist mistress was the best game in town until she found out she’d missed tracking a thief for real.
She said, “You sure you’ve thought through all of the pros and cons on this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe we should call the cops and direct them to the bed-down instead of hitting it ourselves.”
Knuckles and Veep had followed the two thieves down King Street, watching them eyeball the tourists like a couple of wolves
ogling herds of deer. They’d had one fleeting chance to get the laptop back when the thieves slipped down an alley connecting
King with Meeting Street. Before my team could execute, the crooks had gone through an arch and into a parking lot fronting
Meeting Street, back in view of the public.
Turns out, the parking lot was for a defunct Best Western motel waiting on a remodel in the constant shifting of commercial property on the Charleston peninsula.
A typical U shape with two floors facing the parking lot, the thieves went up to the second floor and entered a room. They hadn’t left since.
That had been hours ago—enough time for Jennifer to start having second thoughts about using the police instead of us. And
she had a point, honestly.
She repeated, “Pike, I’m all about getting our laptop back, but since we know where it is, maybe we should back off.”
I pulled a backpack out of the Jeep and shouldered it, the weight alone reminding me of the risks she was talking about, since
it was stuffed with various things I thought we’d need on the assault.
We started walking back towards the center of town and I said, “These guys aren’t suicide bombers. They won’t be that big
of a threat and we can call the cops anonymously, after we’re done.”
She smiled and said, “What, like Batman?”
“Well, yeah, sort of. I guarantee that room is going to be stuffed with stolen items, probably from every hotel in the city.”
We reached the entrance to a place called Bar167 and she stopped, saying, “Hey, I’m all about thumping some bad guys, but
only if it’s necessary that we do it. There’s a lot of risk involved, that’s all.”
I opened the door and walked to the hostess stand, saying, “Sounds to me like you’re just scared.”
We told the hostess we were meeting someone and went up an outdoor stairwell to the upstairs bar, finding it jammed with people
of all stripes. I looked around and saw Knuckles in the corner, the rest of the team seated around two small cocktail tables.
I took a seat and said, “Before we get to the real fun, what’s up with the candidates?”
While we were out conducting our little surveillance operation, Brett had been servicing dead drops and safe houses, acting
as a node of a mysterious support network in the city.
He said, “All tucked in for the night doing pre-mission planning. They have their instructions for tomorrow, all dead drops serviced, so we should be good to go for whatever you have planned. I’ve heard its high adventure.”
I couldn’t tell if he thought that was good or bad. I said, “Well, that depends on what the surveillance came up with. Could
just be a B&E into an abandoned hotel room to get our computer back. Knuckles?”
He said, “One guy left, one still in there. Computer didn’t leave with the first guy, and nobody else has come in. No indication
that there is anyone else in there. No power and no water, so they’re probably just using it as a stash house. If it’s found,
it’s not tied to them.”
Brett said, “So we’re going to really hit that place tonight? Here in your hometown? You think that’s smart?”
“We can’t have that computer running loose. If they search it forensically to identify an owner, it’s going to cause a world
of shit. It can be tied to Grolier Recovery Services, and then I’m going to have to explain why I was renting a hotel room
in my hometown and why my computer has a ton of strange shit on it. We need to get it back.”
Knuckles said, “So call the cops. Have them search that place, when they find the computer, jump up and say, ‘That’s mine!’
Seems like that would be a better choice here.”
I looked at Jennifer and she held up her hands, saying, “I didn’t say anything to them.”
I went back to Knuckles, saying, “You were talking about an in extremis hit a few hours ago. Now a planned assault is too
much?”
“If we had the perfect conditions, yes. We didn’t get it. Now I’m thinking we back off and let the cops handle it.”
I exhaled and said, “Okay, okay. You guys win. We’ll just call the cops, but that’s going to mean telling Wolffe that we had
a computer stolen.”
Knuckles laughed and said, “I knew it wasn’t the high adventure. You just don’t want to let the Taskforce know you had a couple
of thieves steal Taskforce kit.”
Indignant, I started to reply when he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He said, “It’s Veep,” then put it to his ear. He
listened for a minute, then said, “Yeah, I got it. Stand by, I’ll see how Pike wants to handle it.”
I said, “What’s up?”
He hung up and said, “Last guy just left. Room’s open to hit now.”
I turned to Creed and said, “What’s the Grail showing?”
He messed in his bag, a screen illuminating his face. He looked up and said, “The computer’s on the move. That guy’s got it
with him.”
Knuckles said, “Great. What do you want to do?”
I thought about the problem set, then said, “We continue the mission, but we’ll break it into two phases. Knuckles, Jennifer,
and I will be phase Batman. Brett, you and Veep will be phase Robin. Go link up with Veep at the hotel. Crack into the room
and see what’s there. If it’s full of stolen shit, go ahead and call the police and give them a line that’ll get them inside
the room.”
“Like what?”
“Whatever. Tell them you’re a tourist and was walking by and saw some armed guys sneaking in or a domestic dispute or whatever.
Just get them to breach the door so they find all the stuff.”
Knuckles said, “And phase Batman?”
“We’re going to follow that computer until it reaches another bed-down site. Since he’s walking with it, I’m pretty sure he’s
not going back to the abandoned hotel. Maybe he decided to keep it for himself instead of selling it, or maybe he’s fencing
it tonight, but we’ll follow it and execute phase two when it stops for the night, calling in the cops just like we’d planned.”
I turned to Creed and said, “Show us the map.”
He pulled out the Grail like he was exposing the Manhattan Project inside the bar and showed the screen. A pulsing blue marble
was moving east on Cumberland Street towards East Bay Street, only a couple of blocks from where we were sitting.
I said, “Okay, Creed, you stay and keep us updated on the target. Knuckles, you go get our Jeep and stage on East Bay in case
this guy goes mobile in a vehicle. Jennifer and I will head out on foot and catch up to him.”
I bent down to the bag I’d brought and withdrew some earbuds, passing them around. I said, “Use the exercise channel. Questions?”
Knuckles said, “Weapons?”
“Not if we’re going to call in the cops. We already have too much explaining to do as it is, and all we’re doing is watching until that thing stops. Anyone else?”
Brett shook his head and walked towards the door, calling Veep on the way. Jennifer tossed Knuckles the keys to the Jeep and
I said, “Don’t wreck it.”
We hit the street outside and I got a comms check from the rest of the team. Jennifer and I crossed over King Street at a
jog, reached Meeting Street and I said, “Creed, status.”
“He’s on East Bay headed south. Still on foot.”
We reached East Bay and I said, “Which side? Can you tell?”
“East side. I say again, East side.”
Jennifer tugged my arm and flicked her head, saying, “Half a block up. Single man.”
I followed her directions, ignoring the smattering of tourists coming and going from the various restaurants along East Bay,
and spotted him. He was still in a hoody and sauntering along at a leisurely pace, a backpack over one shoulder, walking without
a care in the world.
Yet.