by Alex Ander
Hardy glanced at Charity. “Cherry was able to get the architectural drawings of the building.” He nodded toward her.
“The building has two floors with a staircase on the south wall. There’s a small office on the main floor at the back of the building, just inside the service door.” Charity moved her finger around the touchpad of her laptop. “Other than that, it’s a wide open floor plan with which the renters can do whatever they want.”
Dahlia moved her head to get a better view of the shop across the street. “That’s not much to go on, but it’s better than nothing, I guess.”
Cruz rubbed the backs of her upper arms before crossing them over her chest. “We really need to get a look inside. They seem to be closed, but the cars out back suggest someone’s in there.”
Hardy scanned up and down Westwood Boulevard. Another drive by the store would be too risky. If there were men inside and they had Abby, they would be on edge, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Squinting, he spotted a building between two trees on the east side of the boulevard, a couple stores north of the antique shop. He saw a placard in the window of the store; it depicted a woman’s torso. The woman was wearing only a black bra. “That store over there, the one with the red and white awning, can anyone see the name?”
The three women recognized the store from its color scheme. Answering in unison, they replied, “Victoria’s Secret.”
While Hardy’s mind was forming a plan, Dahlia joked with him. “Why, Hardy? Are you thinking of picking up something slinky for Cruz?”
Cruz cocked her head to the right and rolled her eyes at Dahlia, who only smiled back at her.
“No, not me…” He turned his upper body around in his seat. He glanced at Dahlia. There’s too much of a chance the man she interrogated in New York passed along her description to Yamadi. He moved on to Cruz. She screams police. Coming back to Charity in the front seat, he studied her clothing; red skirt, jacket and heels with tan nylons. Perfect, he said to himself.
…………………………
Twenty minutes later, Charity stepped out of the Victoria’s Secret store with the handles of a shopping bag slung over her right arm and resting in the crook of her elbow. She turned left and headed south toward the antique shop. She blended in with the other women walking up and down the boulevard doing some last minute Christmas shopping. No one would have suspected she was conducting surveillance. She moved swiftly, keeping her head up and surveying the stores on both sides of the street. Her heels clicked on the concrete surface. When she was even with the antique shop, she faked a trip on one of the cracks between the red bricks laid into the sidewalk. She flung her arms out to her sides, acting as if she was trying to grab on to something to keep her from falling, while she staggered on the red bricks. A few female shoppers noticed her, but they kept moving and never broke stride. Steadying herself, she crossed her left ankle over her right knee and examined her shoe. A man approached her.
“Are you all right?” He helped her maintain her balance, while she removed the shoe and checked to see if the heel had separated.
“Thank you.” She put the shoe on and looked at the man. Hardy was right. He had told her a man would assist her. She positioned her body, so the man was standing between her and the antique shop. “I guess I was just moving a little too fast.” Her eyes looked past him and into the shop. She gathered as much detail as possible.
“For a second there, I really thought you were going to take a spill.” His eyes flashed up and down her body, admiring her figure.
Charity saw him out of the corner of her eye. Chalk up another one for Hardy. He had said she could count on the man being more interested in her than her spying on the shop. She smiled. “Yeah, that makes two of us.”
“Are you from L.A. or just visiting?”
“I’m in town for the holidays.” She shifted her weight to her other foot and peeked over the man’s other shoulder, taking in the right half of the store.
“Well, if you’re free tonight—”
Not wanting to linger, she stopped him. “It was really sweet of you to help me, but I need to get going.” She wished him a Merry Christmas, thanked him again and strode away.
Coming to the intersection, Charity turned left and headed east on Kinross Avenue. Passing two parked cars, she opened the right rear door of the third one, the Suburban, and got inside the vehicle. Closing the door, she set her shopping bag between her and Dahlia. “How’d I do?”
Hardy was the first to respond. “You were great, Cherry.”
She held out her hands in front of her body. They were shaking. She slid them back and forth along her thighs.
“If you were scared,” Hardy shook his head, “I couldn’t tell. You looked like a pro.” He had been watching her from the corner of the intersection, and he had remarked to himself that she looked like a Special Agent, gathering intelligence.
Dahlia leaned closer and put her hand on Charity’s hand, attempting to calm her.
“Scared,” she shot back. “I wasn’t scared. I was excited.” She was talking faster than usual. “What a rush that was. It’s one thing getting information from a computer, but to be out here, just a few feet away from the bad guys,” she paused to take a breath, “it’s…it’s exhilarating.”
Smiling and chuckling, Dahlia withdrew her hand. Charity did not need comforting. She needed time to let the surge of adrenaline in her body run its course.
Hardy gave Charity a few moments to catch her breath and settle her nerves before questioning her. “What did you see?”
Charity exhaled the air she was holding. “It’s dark in there. I saw a small room in the back. A light was on and two men, dark hair, dark-skinned, of average height and build, were seated at a table. Just before I walked away, I saw a third man pass behind the two sitting down.”
“Three possible targets,” said Dahlia.
“Did you see any weapons?”
Charity shook her head.
“How about the layout of the shop,” said Cruz?
“Like I said earlier, it’s a mostly wide open floor plan. Just inside the door, there’s a wooden counter than runs the length of the store from front to back. At the back of the store, where the counter ends, I saw another counter going perpendicular to it. They didn’t appear to join up, though. I think I saw a small space between them. They formed the letter L, but the corner of the L was missing.”
Hardy nodded. “Was there anything else?”
Her mind playing back everything she had seen, she lifted her right index finger and moved it to the right. “The stairs are on the south wall.” She pointed her finger upward. “I could see the upstairs, but it was too dark to make out what was up there.” She thought for a few seconds. “Oh, the sign on the door said they were closed, but the hours of operation said they were open until seven.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure if that’s important.”
“What was in the store, the items for sale?”
“It looked to be an antique shop. Were the items really antiques? I don’t know. I think I also saw some more modern things, too—knickknacks and gift items.”
“Nice work, Cherry.” Hardy turned around and faced forward. “We now have the layout of the store and a possible contingent of hostiles inside.” He tapped his finger on the steering wheel, thinking.
Dahlia leaned to her right and peeked inside the Victoria’s Secret bag. “So, what are we doing, Hardy?” Sticking her hand inside the bag, she withdrew and held up a red satin teddy with lace ruffles on the cups and straps. “Ooh, this is nice.” She held the garment to her chest. “This would look good on you, Charity.”
Blushing, Charity grabbed the teddy from Dahlia and stuffed it into the bag. “I just grabbed the first thing I saw.”
Dahlia could see Charity had a fondness for the color red. “Right, you just grabbed the first thing…in your size…and red.”
Cruz chuckled before her eyes rested on Hardy. “The clock’s ticking. We need to mak
e a move.”
Dahlia motioned toward Cruz. “Before we leave, maybe you should make a stop at this store, Cruz. I bet you’d turn some heads in a little number like that.”
Cruz ignored her. “It’ll be dark soon. That’ll give us cover.” She stared out the windshield. “I’m thinking the back door is our best option to gain access. We station Cherry where she can see the front doors and she can inform us of any activity, while the rest of us go in through the back.” She started to turn around to get Dahlia and Charity’s input, but stopped when Hardy moved.
He whipped his head around and glanced at Dahlia before putting his finger on the lip of the bag, sliding it closer and looking inside. Reaching for the switch for the overhead light, he illuminated the inside of the SUV and studied Dahlia’s clothes. Turning his head toward Cruz, he ran his eyes over her from head to toe and back again. He smiled at her. “Listen up, everyone. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Chapter 31: Swap
“What if this doesn’t work?” Special Agent Cruz pinched the zipper on her left knee boot and ran it up the length of the shaft? A sound that mimicked a piece of cloth being ripped in half filled the vehicle. “What if no one comes to the door?” She zipped the other boot, leaned back and adjusted her clothing. She and Charity had switched seats, so Cruz and Dahlia could swap clothing. Cruz was wearing Dahlia’s red sweater, black mini skirt and black knee boots. She had elected to forgo Dahlia’s red fishnet nylons, letting her bare legs show between the boots and the skirt.
Hardy turned around in his seat. His eyes opened wider and his head rocked backward slightly. He stared at Cruz. He knew she would be wearing Dahlia’s clothing, but he had not prepared himself for the image. Starting at the red sweater, his eyes moved slowly down her body, stopping for a longer look at the darker skin tone of her legs. Most of her thigh was visible. The three-inch heels of the knee boots made her legs appear longer. His mind answered her question. I would certainly come to the door.
Cruz grasped the hem of the short skirt between her fingers and unsuccessfully tried to make the garment cover more of her legs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hardy. She had a cute remark on the tip of her tongue. Eyeing her female teammates, she kept her quip to herself. When he finally averted his gaze from her body to her eyes, she opted to give him a frisky smile before winking at him.
Dahlia scrutinized her. “That skirt fits you pretty well, Cruz.”
Cruz stuck her thumb in the waistband and pulled. “It’s a little loose, but it’ll work.”
Dahlia leaned closer. “A little loose…what are you talking about? We’re practically the same size. It’s a perfect…” She saw Cruz grinning from ear to ear and realized she was getting her chops busted. So, that’s how we’re going to play this, huh? Dahlia retaliated. “In that case, you could say the same thing about the sweater. I see a little extra room in there, too.”
Cruz glanced at her chest and chuckled. “Touché,” she replied.
Hardy’s plan needed someone to gain access to the antique shop through the front door. Charity had already passed by the shop, so it would have been dicey to send her, especially since she was not a seasoned operative. Dahlia was the most logical candidate, but he ruled her out under the same pretense as before; the man she interrogated in New York might have passed along her description to Yamadi and his men. No one in the shop would have looked twice at Hardy if he were standing at the door and knocking. That left Cruz. While Hardy was confident she could have gotten the attention of the men on her own merits, he wanted to increase the odds. Having Cruz dressed in Dahlia’s clothing would guarantee they would notice her.
Hardy re-gained his composure, hoping his reaction to Cruz’s attire had escaped the notice of Charity and Dahlia. “Don’t worry, Cruz. It’ll happen. Just stick to the plan.” He checked the time on his watch. “It’ll take us twenty minutes to get in place…at ten after six, knock on the door. We’ll be good to go.”
Cruz had already made sure her pistol was loaded with a round in the chamber. The weapon was tucked into the waistband of the skirt at the small of her back. She grabbed the leather jacket and slipped two spare magazines into the left pocket before tugging on the door handle and stepping out of the vehicle.
Hardy beckoned her. “Be careful, Cruz.” He watched her lean forward and flash a smile before slamming shut the door. He started the Suburban and pulled away from the curb.
“So, I saw the way you ogled Cruz, Hardy.” Dahlia was smiling. “I assume you approve of her new attire.”
Hardy rolled his eyes, but did not respond.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation.” She watched the traffic out her window. “It’s settled. For Christmas, I’m getting Cruz boots and a mini skirt.” She leaned forward and patted his right arm. “You can thank me later.”
The SUV passed by a streetlight and Hardy saw Charity’s reflection in the passenger window. She was facing away from him and smiling broadly, struggling not to laugh. He had not gotten away with anything. Both women had seen his reaction. He sighed and changed the subject. “We need to stay on task. Our heads need to be focused on assaulting the shop. There’s no room for distractions.”
He’s right, thought Dahlia. In less than a half-hour, the team would breach the antique shop and be confronted with armed men trying to kill them. She grabbed her pistol and readied the weapon. Hardy made a series of left turns that brought them to the beginning of the alley behind the shop.
Chapter 32: Raid
Special Agent Cruz strolled to the intersection of Kinross Avenue and Westwood Boulevard and turned right. She had twenty minutes to reach her destination, which was less than five minutes away. She had planned to leave Dahlia’s leather jacket behind, in order to have easier access to her weapon; however, she was glad she was wearing it, when a gust of cool wind rose from the concrete and ran up the length of her exposed legs. The temperature was in the fifties and forecasted to be in the mid-forties. A shiver went up her spine and she pulled down on the mini skirt for the third time since getting out of the SUV. In addition to the chill, she was feeling awkward, having never worn a skirt that revealed so much of her legs.
With time to spare, she walked into a store called Aahs, a gift shop selling all sorts of items from clothing to party supplies and gag gifts. Checking the time on her watch, she meandered around the store, staying close to the door. At 6:05 p.m., she picked up two baseball hats and a t-shirt and paid for them. Tucking the items inside the bag from Victoria’s Secret hanging from her arm, she exited the store.
Standing on the sidewalk, she tapped the communication device in her ear and made contact with Hardy and Dahlia. “Hardy, this is Cruz. I’m one minute out. What’s your status?”
…………………………
Hardy and Dahlia had taken a position in an alcove behind one of several dumpsters, not more than thirty meters from the back door of the antique shop. From their vantage point, they had a clear view of the door. Hardy glanced at his watch—6:06 p.m. In three minutes, they would move out. He retrieved his lock pick set from his jacket pocket, opened it and selected the tools he would need.
Dahlia saw the case in his hands. “Bringing out the relics, old man?”
Old man? “If my math’s correct, I’m two years younger than you.”
She feigned surprise. “You’re only thirty? Wow! I guess I thought you were, you know, pushing forty. I wonder what you’ll be like when you do hit that number.”
Hardy grinned. During his first encounter with her, Dahlia had displayed a sharp tongue and quick wit. There had never been any malice behind her words. She enjoyed back and forth banter. Hardy had thought she used it as a defense mechanism, deflecting attention from her questionable occupation. The best defense is a good offense, he thought. Either way, he was sure she meant no harm. He had seen her vulnerable side once, when she had told him the story behind her short tenure with the FBI. Whether she realized it or not, in those unguarded moments,
she had let him in, and he saw a woman searching for a connection, a relationship, a friendship, with people.
Stowing the lock pick set in the right pocket of his jacket, Hardy put the two tools he had taken from the case in his left pocket. His tone of voice serious, he answered her inquiry. “I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me, when you get there…first.”
It was dark inside the alcove and Dahlia could not make out his facial features. “Was that a joke?” She laughed quietly. “Nice, Hardy…Here I didn’t think your computer programming allowed for a sense of humor.”
Hardy was preparing another comeback, when he heard Cruz’s voice in his earpiece.
“Hardy, this is Cruz. I’m one minute out. What’s your status?”
Hardy tapped his earpiece. “We’re moving into position. On your order, we’ll breach—over.” He stood, motioned for Dahlia to follow and hurried to the back door of the antique shop.
…………………………
“Copy that.” Cruz turned and walked north on Westwood Boulevard, the shopping bag swinging over her left forearm, keeping her gun hand free. She approached the antique shop and saw it was dark inside. Light was coming from the back room, casting a dim glow over the showroom. Stopping in front of the door, she observed two men in the back office. Will they even see me? She rapped on the glass door with her knuckles and peered through the pane before putting her hands against her temples and getting closer to the glass. One man looked in her direction, but he ignored her. Making a fist, she pounded on the door.
The man jumped to his feet and exited the back room. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’re closed.”
Cruz shouted back at him. “I just need in for a minute.”
