Wake Me When It's Over

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Wake Me When It's Over Page 27

by Cheryl A Head


  “It’s hard to believe all these are the same guy,” Hoyt said. “So now we’re looking at anybody in the building, even if they’re wearing the security band?”

  “Any man in the building,” Don said. “I assume he can’t dress up to look like a woman.”

  “I don’t think we can underestimate this guy,” Gil said.

  “Have any of you seen anyone suspicious?” Charlie asked.

  Heads shook “no” around the table. Hoyt took a sip of coffee and quickly put the cup back on the table, hoping no one saw the trembling of his hands. Tyson’s sad-sack demeanor made him seem ten years older. Gil stood and offered his seat to a tired Cynthia.

  “It’s possible Dudiyn is staying out of sight tonight. Wouldn’t it be easier to plant the bombs tomorrow when the press corps is here?” Gil asked.

  “Maybe,” Tony said. “But the call we intercepted mentioned keeping on a schedule, and there was some kind of deadline tonight. We still haven’t ruled out a car bomb scenario. Let’s assume whatever he’s doing, it’s happening now.”

  “There must be a couple of hundred people at Cobo, and more coming in the next few hours,” Mandy said. “Lots of workers, Spectrum staff, administrative staff, a few of the exhibitor design teams just moved back into the showroom. It wouldn’t be difficult to go unnoticed.”

  The Mack patrols were circulating on every level of Cobo, still working in two-person teams. They’d been instructed to check in with their status every half hour. Charlie was splitting her time between crisscrossing Cobo to provide general supervision, and having a presence in the office.

  “What’s our communications status?”

  “We’re good,” Judy reported. “The BlackBerrys are still working fine for regular communications. I’m rotating the two-way radios to keep all of them charged, and I’ve recharged each of them except the one we gave to Cynthia. I already called her about it,” Judy reported.

  Carter had returned to the Spectrum monitoring room, and Judy was bugging Charlie for an assignment beyond the communications tasks. So when Charlie was called to the third level for a conversation between Cobo’s GM, Scott Hartwell, Tony Canterra, and the ATF head, she allowed Judy to ride shotgun.

  “We’ve done an extensive search tonight. We’ve checked every sitting area, done sweeps of every exhibitor space, and checked every room accessible to the public,” the ATF agent said, checking his notes. “Two restrooms were out of order and locked, so we still need to check them. We also did sweeps of the balconies and exterior smoking areas. But what I really want to talk about is our change in assessment of the bomb threat. I’ve been speaking with agent Canterra about this. I agree with him that an IED of some sort is the most plausible threat. From what we’ve been seeing in other parts of the world, suicide vests and vehicle bombs are terrorists’ weapons of choice these days.”

  “Correct.” Tony picked up the argument. “Suicide bombs account for more fatalities than other IEDs, and their main purpose is to instill fear. One of Ms. Mack’s team members mentioned vehicle bombs earlier, and I’ve given it some more thought. I think we should gear up for potential auto bombs. They wouldn’t cause as many deaths at Cobo, but they’d get a lot of attention.”

  “Can you imagine it?” Hartwell said with a pale face. “The photographs of plumes of smoke rising above Detroit? It would look like the ’67 riots all over again.”

  “So I’m recommending we concentrate our efforts on the parking areas, on Cobo’s perimeter, and on individual searches tomorrow as people come in. If we agree on that strategy, I need to send my people home for a couple of hours’ rest and then get them back here around daybreak.”

  “What do you think, Ms. Mack?” Mathers asked.

  “I’m not a bomb expert, but I do have some experience with brutal, dangerous men, and we have one on the loose.” Charlie looked each man hard in the eyes, and then softened her face when she glanced at Tyson and Judy, who were wide-eyed and scared. “We’re not out of the woods until we can account for Dudiyn. Heinrich had knowledge of our schedules and protocols tonight. There’s no reason to doubt that Dudiyn now has that information.”

  Judy raised her hand, and cleared her throat. Heads turned toward her. Charlie knew she wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important, and nodded for her to speak.

  “I just got a message from Cynthia. She can’t find the two-way radio we gave her. She left it on her desk earlier today and hadn’t even noticed it was missing. She thinks Heinrich took it.”

  Heads swiveled back to Charlie for an interpretation of this latest news. She splayed her hands on the table, and the tasteful chocolate-diamond ring Mandy had given her gleamed under the fluorescent lights. She raised her gaze to the expectant eyes.

  “I believe our dangerous man has been monitoring our communications for hours. He knows everything we know, including that we’re looking for him.”

  When Judy and Charlie were clear of the GM’s office, Judy passed on Cynthia’s second piece of information.

  “She said we should meet her at the guard station at the Civic Center drive entrance. There’s somebody there to see you.”

  “Is that all she said?”

  “Yes.”

  Tyson hurried out of his boss’s office suite and flagged down Charlie as she executed a three-wheel turn.

  “Ms. Mack. I have a thought. If Dudiyn has a walkie-talkie, maybe we can send a message that will lay a trap for him.”

  Charlie smiled at Tyson. “That’s very good thinking. We’re going to meet in my office in a bit. I want you there. Judy will call you about the time.”

  Charlie and Judy idled in front of the service elevator in their golf cart. Charlie watched the LED number change from one to two and finally three. Judy gave Charlie a wry look and pursed her lips.

  “Are you ready to admit Don was right?”

  “What’s got you giving credit to Don?”

  “Tyson.”

  “Okay. He had to prove himself to me, and he’s done that. He’s a smart kid with good common sense. You happy now?”

  “I guess so. If you can be happy and scared at the same time.”

  “Believe me, we’re all scared.” Charlie looked at her watch. “Wow, it’s almost three o’clock. Send a message to the others to meet us at the office in a half hour.”

  When Charlie and Judy exited the elevator, they headed south through the concourse. Cynthia was standing at the door of the security office as they approached. She waved them over.

  “What’s up?” Charlie asked.

  “These two showed up, asking for you. The night guard called me when he couldn’t reach you in the office.” Cynthia pointed inside the room, and Charlie stepped through the door with Judy at her heels. Two clearly irritated guards initially blocked their view, but when they moved aside, Lin Fong and Amy Wu looked up at Charlie like two puppies who had eaten a package of doughnuts.

  “Hi, Ms. Mack,” Lin said.

  “Lin. Why aren’t you at my apartment?”

  “I heard about the trouble. With the explosives. And I came to help.”

  “And . . .I want to help, too,” Amy said.

  Charlie stared at them in disbelief. Cynthia and Judy stood nearby, each with a stern face and crossed arms. Charlie consulted briefly with the two guards, and the conversation ended with both Charlie and Cynthia signing a form that transferred responsibility for the unannounced, middle-of-the-night visitors to Spectrum and the Mack partners.

  “Let’s not talk in the hall,” Charlie instructed. “Cynthia, will you drive Amy?”

  Lin and Amy shared a look of solidarity as they parted ways. Lin took a seat in the back of Charlie’s cart.

  “Why did you come back to Cobo, Lin? It’s too dangerous for you to be here.”

  “I feel like I let you down, Ms. Mack.”

  “No. You did not let me down. If anything, it’s the other way around. How did Amy get involved?”

  “I asked her to drive me, and she said she wa
nted to come back too, to help her boss.”

  “Well, I don’t have any control over Amy, but you’re not staying. I’m going to have someone drive you back to my condo.”

  “You can’t do that. I saw him. He’s here at Cobo.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Baldy. The guy who beat me. Amy and I saw him in the parking garage.”

  Once more in this long night a set of grim faces stared back at Charlie. Lin had seen Dudiyn in the employee parking garage, beardless and dressed in a janitor’s uniform.

  “You sure it was him, Fong?” Don asked.

  “I’m sure. I watched him walk around when he had me tied to that chair. I’ll never forget his eyes, or the way he moves. Tonight he had on a baseball cap, and his beard was gone, but that was Baldy all right.”

  “Wow. I think I may have seen him, too,” Mandy said. “On the third level. He had a janitor’s cart.”

  “We probably all saw him without seeing him,” Gil pointed out.

  “Okay, we’re going to regroup quickly and get after him. We’re pretty sure he has a walkie-talkie, and Tyson has an idea for smoking him out.”

  The plan was simple and perilous. They would concoct some communication over the two-way radios to draw the man out of hiding and then, somehow, put him out of commission before he could detonate a bomb. New color-coded bands would be distributed immediately, which would make him easier to spot. Don and Gil would dress like members of the crew who would soon begin vacuuming the miles of red carpet that had been laid overnight. When they spotted Dudiyn, their disguises would enable them to get close enough without arousing his suspicion.

  Tyson was dispatched to retrieve uniforms for Don and Gil and to make sure the next set of wristbands were quickly distributed to the facilities and cleaning staffs. Cynthia and Lin Fong joined Carter in Spectrum’s monitoring room to view video of the parking garage where Lin had seen Dudiyn. Hoyt rounded up the six patrol teams to update them on the new procedures, which included limiting radio communication and returning to the BlackBerrys as the main tool of communications. Mandy’s task was to chauffeur Judy around with fresh batteries for the BlackBerrys. Charlie, Don, and Gil remained in the office with Scott Hartwell.

  “The fact remains, even if we locate Dudiyn and manage to capture him, it doesn’t guarantee that we can get our hands on the bombs,” Gil said.

  “I know. I know,” Charlie said.

  “You heard what the ATF supervisor said,” Hartwell reminded Charlie. “He’s convinced the threat to Cobo will be from suicide vests or car bombs.”

  “I don’t care what he said, Scott. Think about it. What was the purpose of the diversion? If not to distract us from something that was going on inside Cobo tonight? Our main objective is to locate Dudiyn and track his movements. Then, maybe, we can save your auto show.”

  Hartwell nodded.

  “And if we find bombs,” Don added. “We’ll call in the ATF.”

  “What if he figures out you’re onto him and panics, and blows Cobo to smithereens?” Hartwell asked.

  “Then, at the least we’ll have minimized the loss of life,” Charlie said soberly.

  “Wait, Mandy. Stop here,” Judy shouted.

  Mandy applied the brakes hard. The electric cart lurched, and the tires screeched. Judy was turned in the seat looking back. Then she bolted from the cart.

  “What is it, Judy?” Mandy asked, leaping from the cart and following.

  “Look,” Judy said, standing across from the entrance to the ladies’ restroom. “That extra recycling box. That’s not supposed to be there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I processed the driver who delivered the waste containers. Those three right there,” Judy pointed to the left. “He told me he had the exclusive contract for all the trash and recyclable containers. But I saw some Spectrum staff setting up those boxes earlier.”

  “Well, there’s your answer.”

  “No. Why would Spectrum be setting up trash containers?”

  Charlie had told Mandy about Judy’s many gifts. She was a people person, a world-class weaver of lies, a Broadway musical geek, and a compulsive file maker. ”She has a perception of things others don’t have,” Charlie often said.

  “Let’s take a look,” Mandy said, crossing the corridor. Judy lined up behind her.

  Mandy lifted the recyclable box with one hand. “It’s not heavy.” Then shook it, and heard something moving in the bottom of the box. She stuck her hand in the empty bag and tilted it to feel the bottom where she grasped something heavy. Startled, she quickly removed her hand. “Something’s in there.” She peeled off one of the tight corners of the bag, and lifted it from the container. On the bottom of the box was a white tube with a rat-control label. “It’s some kind of rat bait.”

  “I hate rats,” Judy said, drawing back.

  “It’s just the pesticide, not a rat,” Mandy said, reaching in for the tube.

  The container was smooth and heavy. She hefted it in her hand. Feels like four or five pounds. The sticker showed a dead rodent under a red X. Mandy examined the tube, some kind of pipe made out of PVC material. One side was closed tight, but the other end had a small opening. Must be where the rat breathes in the poison. Suddenly, Mandy stood erect. She leaned forward very slowly and backed away from the box.

  “What’s wrong?” Judy asked.

  “C’mon. Let’s go back to the cart,” Mandy said pulling Judy by the hand.

  Mandy almost lifted Judy into the vehicle, before she darted to the driver side and shot down the hall to the Spectrum suite. She jumped from the cart, darted into the suite, and ran down the corridor into the office. The Mack partners and Hartwell were startled as Mandy and then Judy burst into the conference room out of breath.

  “We found a damn bomb,” Mandy gasped.

  Following Mandy’s description of the pipe bomb, Charlie acted quickly. Her first call was to Tony Canterra, who was still at Cobo. Next, she called Carter and Lin Fong, telling them to concentrate their review of security footage on the restrooms. Before Mandy and Judy fled the area, Judy had had the presence of mind to use her phone camera to take a picture of the recyclable box. The photo had been distributed to the patrol team, with strict orders to locate the boxes on all levels— but to stay away from them. General Manager Mike Mathers ordered the facilities supervisor to find out where the boxes came from, and then convened the key players around the table in his office.

  “The shipping receipt says fifty Universal recycling boxes were delivered to Cobo on November first,” Dennis Calhoun said to the group as he rifled through his clipboard. The Mack partners, Hartwell, Tony, Cynthia, Mandy, Tyson, and an embarrassed ATF supervisor looked on. “The purchase order was signed by Geoff Heinrich and approved by . . .” Calhoun looked up at Charlie with a shudder. “It was approved by Garry Jones.”

  “The dead food services supervisor,” Judy said.

  “I didn’t think anything of it when Heinrich told me we’d help to distribute the recyclable boxes,” Cynthia explained in a shaky voice. “I just thought he was pretending to be helpful.”

  Hartwell and Mathers looked ashen, and the ATF agent was somber as Tony peppered Mandy with questions about the pipe bomb.

  “Describe, again, the wire you saw. Was it a single wire or a coil?”

  “A copper wire, but coiled with plastic or something on the tip.”

  “How large was the hole in the end of the pipe?”

  “I’d say no more than a quarter inch.”

  “And how long was the wiring?”

  “Maybe an inch and a half.”

  “That sounds like an explosive device,” the ATF supervisor said despondently. “Was anything taped to the exterior of the pipe?”

  “No. Just the rat label.”

  “Okay,” Tony said. “Charlie, what have your people reported?”

  “They’ve spotted all fifty boxes. They’re on levels one, two, and three. Most are in front of restroo
ms, but a few are in the food vendor areas.”

  “I’ve got to get my people in to examine each of those containers,” the agent said to Tony.

  “I know, but Ms. Mack would like you to keep a low profile, so we can catch the man who planted them. Is there a way to do that?”

  “That’s not really our protocol,” the agent said, shaking his head. “Now that we have a possible bomb, and we know what it looks like, we need to move fast. Those devices are set to be detonated remotely.”

  “Our suspect was last seen on level one in one of the garages; he might see the comings and goings of a large ATF squad. Would it be possible to bring your agents in through the front door or on foot or by using unmarked vehicles?” Charlie asked.

  “We don’t usually do that,” he started objecting.

  “Well, this time I need you to do just that.” Tony’s voice left no room for discussion or dissent. “How soon can your people get here?”

  “I can have some of them here in a half hour with containment vessels. The rest in an hour, but the lab people will need their truck; that’s how they control the robotic units.”

  “You can use the loading dock for your vehicles. The police have searched every inch of that place, and they still have an officer on guard. Our guy can’t be hiding there,” Tony said.

  “Is there something we can do in the meantime?” Gil asked. “Cynthia says Spectrum has a half-dozen portable explosives detectors. We could use those to determine if all of the boxes have bombs.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the agent began. “We usually maintain a security perimeter for civilians.”

  “Mandy probably wouldn’t be sitting with us now if the bombs were booby-trapped,” Gil said matter-of-factly.

  Eyes glanced toward Mandy, but she was staring at Charlie, who was staring back, oblivious to the others in the room.

 

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