by Alex Ander
“She and I had a falling out several years ago before you and I knew each other, sir. I just never brought it up. I haven’t spoken to her in years, which is why I have extreme reservations about letting her be a part of this operation.”
The President stared at Jameson for several moments before looking at the phone. “Agent Hardy, you have a ‘go’ with your mission. If you trust this woman, Dahlia, then you have my approval.”
Jameson slowly shook his head. “Sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I must advise against it.”
The President walked around his desk and put his hand on Jameson’s shoulder. “Relax, Phil. If your daughter has one ounce of the character and integrity that’s in you, I have no doubts she’ll do just fine.” He gently slapped Jameson on the back and turned around. “Agent Hardy, your team will have the full support of my office. If you need anything, Director Jameson will see that it gets done.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. I appreciate that.”
“No, thank you. I should have trusted your instincts long before now—my apologies, son.”
“That’s not necessary, sir. You’re in a difficult situation right now.”
The President opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and stared at the desk. “Agent Hardy…Aaron…” He stopped speaking for several moments.
Hardy thought the line had gone dead and started to speak. He stopped when he heard the President.
“I was a soldier once.” He had served in the Marine Corps with the First Battalion 8th Marines, stationed in Beirut, Lebanon, in 1983. He was among the 128 who were wounded when a suicide bomber detonated a truck bomb near the building serving as the barracks. Two-hundred forty-one American service members were killed. “I know not every mission goes according to plan.” He paused for a few seconds. “If something should happen…please tell my daughter that…her mother and I…love her very much and…” The President covered his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. He was doing his best to keep his emotions under control in front of his people; however, the Commander in Chief in him was starting to lose out to the father in him.
Sensing the President’s emotion, Hardy intervened. “Mr. President, you can tell Abby yourself, when she’s sitting at your dinner table on Christmas Day.” He waited a few seconds. “Just make sure there’s some spinach for her to go along with the turkey and mashed potatoes.”
Spinach. The President chuckled.
“For the life of me, I can’t understand why a sixteen-year-old girl would willingly eat spinach.”
The President had heard the smile on Hardy’s face and he laughed outright. Hardy had just put into words the President’s exact thoughts. The laughter helped him get his emotions in check. He saw through Hardy’s plan. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome, sir. There’s one last thing I need to tell you, Mr. President.”
“Go ahead.”
“Semper Fidelis.”
The President stood erect and responded, “Semper Fidelis, son.” He ended the call. Semper Fidelis is Latin for ‘always faithful.’ The term has been the motto for the United States Marine Corps since 1883. It guides Marines to be faithful to the mission, each other, the Corps and country. Both Hardy and the President, being Marines, identified with the meaning of the words.
…………………………
Even though Cruz, Charity and Dahlia had not heard the President’s side of the conversation, they filled in the blanks, based on what Hardy had said. Of the three women, Dahlia was most affected. Hardy had gone to bat for her with the President, jeopardizing his career. She would not forget the gesture, or let him down. In fact, his faith in her only solidified what she had already come to know about him. He was a man who never wavered from his commitment to the people and things he cared for so very much.
Dahlia leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. He cranked his head toward her. She smiled and nodded at him. He did the same to her. Not a word was spoken, but everyone knew what had been said.
Hardy started the SUV, put the vehicle in gear and drove away, heading for the airport.
Chapter 30: LA
5:04 p.m. (Pacific Time); Los Angeles, California
The flight from Denver International Airport to LAX took ninety minutes. Jameson had planned to have an agent waiting for them when they landed, but Hardy declined, not wanting to pull anyone away from the search for Abigail. Instead, Hardy asked for a rental vehicle. A representative from Avis met him on the tarmac and handed him the keys to a black Chevrolet Suburban. After the gear was stowed in the back, everyone climbed inside the vehicle and left for the antique shop.
Forty-five minutes later, Hardy and Charity were sitting in the Suburban on the west side of South Westwood Boulevard in front of a CVS Pharmacy. They had a clear view of the front of the antique shop on the east side of the boulevard. Before finding the parking spot, Hardy had driven by the store to get a look inside, but it was dark.
For the next hour, Hardy and Charity sat in the vehicle watching for any activity in and around the front of the building, while Special Agent Cruz and Dahlia went around to the back. Cruz and Dahlia had found a service alley and were monitoring the back door.
Hardy checked his watch. We can’t sit here forever. The sun had already set. Light from the stores and streetlights was piercing the darkness of the coming night. He had received a text message from the Hostage Rescue Team leader. The HR Team was in position and conducting surveillance on the antique shop in Las Vegas. Hardy needed to give the team time to finish its surveillance before giving the order to go in; however, he wanted to know if Abby was inside the building he was currently scoping out, first. The back doors of the SUV opened. Cruz and Dahlia got in and slammed the doors.
Cruz blew into her cupped hands and rubbed them together. “There are two cars parked behind the building, close to the service door. There are three windows on the upper level,” she blew into her hands again, “but we should be able to make it to the door without being spotted by anyone inside.”
A little less dressed for the weather than Cruz, Dahlia was faring better with the chilly temperatures. “There appears to be some electrical panels jutting out from the building right below the windows. With a boost, we could gain entry through the windows, but it would take more time than the service door. Either way, we have two floors to clear once we’re in.”
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 ey
es 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 make 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 sl
ightly. 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.
