If her ruse was going to work, she needed Kathleen to fall all over herself, to be overly helpful in her desire to be rid of the supposed audit and the accompanying mean auditor. “I’m not sure I am allowed to assist. Let me call my superior.”
As Mei stepped away with her phone to her ear, she watched her victim’s response. Kathleen sat at her desk again, already keying in her password. She fanned her face with a loose sheet of paper. Stepping closer while she pretended a conversation with her supervisor, Mei heard her mutter, “You’re okay. She’ll be gone in a minute. You can do it. Hold it together.”
There was a time Mei would have felt sympathy. Not any more. Ms. Crawford was just another person to step on and over. Mei had a baby to find and the world was in her way.
“My supervisor is not happy, but he did say that I may assist. However, he said to tell you it is not proper protocol for a Federal Agent to query a local system. That is your job. I may show you once and once only. Then it’s up to you.” Mei kept her expression stern and cold as she nodded in the direction she meant. “I’ll send my query findings to the printer over there. Are you in yet or not?”
“Yes.” The clerk nodded nervously, her neck and face brightly splotched with the steadily advancing hives and now scratch marks. “I’m in. Thanks, umm, for helping me.”
“Whatever.” Mei stood directly behind Kathleen, her toes tapping to magnify her annoyance as much as her anxiety. She couldn’t get caught. Not here in the main D.C. precinct.
“Let’s see how far you can get without my help.” She tapped her index finger on her lip, studying the screen over Kathleen’s shoulder. “Tell me. Where would an FBI query be stored?”
Kathleen gulped. She moved her mouse to a list of confidential links in a column to the right of the main entry screen. “I’ve used a couple queries before. I think it’s this one right here, but—”
“Just do it,” Mei barked. Stop talking. Do it fast. Get it done. Get me out of here.
With quick but shaky keystrokes, Kathleen maneuvered through the various menus. “Is this the one?” She glanced timidly up at Mei.
“What do you think?” Mei peered into the screen. Missing children. Endangered children. Known abductions. Child trafficking. There were so many awful selections to choose from.
“I, ah, I—”
“This one.” Mei spotted an option for an integrated report. She stabbed the screen with her index finger. “Print it. Now.”
Kathleen licked her lips and complied. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “I’ll get it for you.”
“Stop,” Mei shouted, afraid the very woman she’d just badgered into submission would discover her subterfuge. “I’ll get it if you don’t mind.”
Kathleen froze. Without so much as a thank you, Mei gathered her laptop and strode to the office door, pausing a split second to gather the printed report from the printer tray on her way out. She licked her lips, by now as dry as Kathleen’s.
“When, umm, will my boss get the results of the audit?” Kathleen asked.
Mei grunted, “We’ll be in touch,” and off she went, her heartbeat too loud in her ears and bile creeping up her throat. Never in her life had she contemplated needing so much courage or deceit as she needed now.
It wasn’t until she was safely in her car with the bogus badge concealed in her glove compartment that Mei doubled over and vomited the very meager contents of her empty stomach into the street. False bravado took a hard toll. Nothing stayed down anymore. Life without LiLi was killing her in more ways than one.
Straightening, she wiped her mouth and shut the door, hoping no passerby had seen. Why had she worried? She was part of the invisible segment of society, the ones who literally worked their guts out, suffered in silence, and didn’t make enough money to garner political clout, much less police support. Her bitterness pushed tears to the surface, but she shoved them back. There would be time to cry later.
Four weeks. LiLi had been missing four weeks, and Mei hated the world of law enforcement with her heart and soul. Maybe everyone else, too. Detectives Bastion and Crowder had only patronized her. When she’d called their supervisor hoping for a show of real concern, she’d been told he’d return her call. She was still waiting.
Her predicament seemed unreal. Was everyone against her? Was everyone in on the abduction of her child? It seemed like it.
After that disappointment, she’d contacted the mayor’s office. He was busy campaigning. Her senator talked with her, or at least that’s who she thought she had talked to. Again, he’d said all the right things. He’d get in touch with the detectives. What were their names? Thanks for calling. I’m glad to help. Then–nothing.
Now, hoping against hope, she scanned the report she’d stolen. Linked to the FBI’s database of missing and exploited children, it listed line after line of endangered children, from runaways to kidnapped, the status of all open investigations, and any known suspects. The difference in this report and the more generic one on the FBI’s public website was the accompanying list of known suspects, actual addresses, and phone numbers.
Please be here.
She gritted her teeth, knowing there was no way her scam would’ve been successsful by going directly into the FBI. She might pretend to be one of them, but to really infiltrate the Bureau? She wasn’t that kind of brave. Stupid, maybe. Determined, yes. But truly courageous? Never.
She couldn’t read the list fast enough. Please. Let me find her!
Line after line declined the name she sought. LiLi Xing. Six years old. Straight black hair in a blunt cut just below her ears. Blue plaid uniform. White blouse. Abducted off the sidewalk in front of her apartment building after school one day. Broad daylight. Missing. No suspects. Prettiest little girl in Saint Charles Borromeo’s first grade. Prettiest little girl anywhere.
The sob Mei didn’t want to own crept up her throat, along with the bitter taste of bile. Once again, she had put everything at risk, and once again, she’d come up with–nothing!
Striking the steering wheel with her fist, she cried, “Why isn’t your name here? Why won’t anyone help me?”
The awful truth stared back at her. It was as if her daughter had never existed, like no missing person’s report had ever been filed, and no one was looking for her.
Because they weren’t.
What do I do now?
Mei glanced at her police scanner, the wisest investment she’d ever made. She now knew police jargon for too many frightening things like actual bodily harm, dead body, sex offender, and dead on scene. And then there were police codes for child neglect, assault with intent to murder, deceased person, and a hundred other realities she’d never needed to know. Until now.
Fortunately, it had proved its worth the very first night she owned it when she’d followed a police call to the Pennsylvania Avenue Bridge over the Anacostia River. Watching through her high-powered binoculars, another smart purchase, she’d watched an officer use a long pole with a barbed hook to pull a body to shore, a very small body. Her hysteria nearly got the better of her, but the corpse was too small. It was someone else’s poor baby. A toddler. Limp. Lifeless. So small.
She’d cried watching, but then she got the idea of impersonating an FBI agent. They could get into places she could not–the county morgue, the emergency room, hospitals, and even the D. C. main police precinct. She’d gotten creative then and fashioned badges and official-looking ID cards for other federal agencies. Too soon another call came. Anacostia. An old man claimed he’d found a child in a garbage receptacle. A little girl. Drugged. Nearly dead.
Mei became an Immigrations and Customs Enforcement Officer then. No one at the emergency room questioned when she flashed her phony ICE badge. The nurse led her straight to Claire Langley, the Family Services child advocate assigned to these desperate cases. A plump woman with silver hair, Claire liked to talk, so Mei learned of the comprehensive FBI database for missing children.
“That’s two babies in one wee
k,” Claire lamented to the young police officer who’d accompanied the little girl into the ER. Mei feigned an important cell phone call and stepped into the hall, not willing to face the scrutiny of law enforcement.
“Yes, and they’re both Chinese.” He pulled up a chair to sit with Claire in the waiting room, barely glancing in Mei’s direction.
“The two-year-old too?” Claire had asked. “The one you found in the river? She was Chinese?”
He’d nodded somberly. “Some of us down at the precinct are thinking there’s a child trafficking ring in the area. Looks like it might be straight out of China.”
Hope raised its paralyzed head for the first time in days at the startling news. Mei had not known the ethnicity of the first tiny corpse. Suddenly, everything made sense. That’s who had kidnapped LiLi. It had to be. LiLi was American Chinese. Mei listened intently.
He sounded so sincere when he said, “It makes me sick.”
Yes, but not sick enough to help me find my daughter.
The dark night let loose the first of a late autumn rain, jolting Mei out of her depressing reverie and chilling her soul. She turned her car on and cranked the heater to high. The last time she’d seen her daughter was a sunny day, too warm for even a light jacket. Mei shivered. Wherever she was, LiLi might be cold. Or worse.
FOUR
“I asked if you heard me.”
The bellowing voice had to be Kevin Carducci’s, as in ATF Director Carducci, the man who’d organized the operation Zack had just bungled. He slipped by the barely open Situation Room door, hoping no one noticed. The last place he wanted to be was where his boss now waged war. Zack had to be in Alex’s office by the end of the nasty meeting, where he fully expected he’d get his ass reamed before he got fired. It wouldn’t be a pleasant meeting, but this one was much worse.
Everyone knew by now. The whole team. He was a screw up. It wouldn’t be so bad, but he really loved his job. Working for Alex Stewart could be a tough row to hoe, but he’d never felt more alive and fulfilled. Heck, most times he didn’t even have to use his weapon. Zack bit his lip and clenched his gut. Way to go, Lennox.
“I stand by my agent.” Judging by the level of volume from the Sit Room, Alex was giving as good as he got, his voice hard as steel.
“I’m not asking if you stand by your agent. I don’t care if you think they all walk on water. I’m asking if we have an understanding.” Carducci again. Loud. Rude. Arrogant.
Zack grimaced. At least Alex defended him–for now.
“No, sir, we do not.”
“Be careful, Stewart. Small time players have no business in a high stakes game. I can make your life very miserable.”
Zack cringed. Big mistake, Carducci. No one bullies Alex. A chair scraped. Had to be the boss. If he was on his feet, that meant—
“For the last time. I stand by my agents,” Alex snarled.
You tell ’em, Boss.
“Then we’re done here,” Director Carducci snapped.
“No, sir, you’re done here. You’ll get no apology from me.” Alex had the nastiest tone when he was pushed too far. Apparently, Carducci didn’t know.
“That’s not mitigation, you arrogant fool.”
“Exactly.” Alex’s tone dropped back to a conversational level. “Now we have an understanding.”
Zack had to give it to him. The man knew when to charge, all guns blazing, and when to calm. Strategies like that tended to pull the rug out from under pretentious men like Carducci; men who thought paid contractors should grovel at their feet. No one on earth was a better boss or a tougher opponent than Alex. That skill was going to work against Zack today. His turn in the barrel was next.
More chairs scraped, and Zack hurried down the hall. He was in enough trouble. No need to be caught eavesdropping. He barely made it into Alex’s office and closed the door, just enough to peek through the crack, when Carducci burst through the Sit. Room doors and stalked to the elevator.
“It’s about time.”
Zack whirled, startled he hadn’t noticed David Tao sitting at the small conference table, his hands folded serenely in front of him. “Damn. Didn’t see you sitting there.”
“I take it the Director is finished with Alex?”
“More like he’s finished with the Director.” Zack dropped onto the chair to David’s right. It was a small, four-man table. No doubt old man Murphy would be joining Alex. He would complete the murder board. Despite the fact that Zack had been in serious military-like situations with these men in the past, situations where shots were fired and men were killed, his gut poured solid acid. This time was different. The career he loved as an undercover operative would die today. It would hurt.
David murmured, “He is coming.”
“And he’s not happy, either.”
David shot him a ‘no kidding’ kind of look, but the door didn’t crash open like Zack expected with Alex madder than hell and ready to hang someone–like him. That could be good. That could be bad. It gave Zack more time to consider the decision that was going to cost him the job he loved. Even now, he couldn’t believe that his saving a girl’s life compromised the ATF Op like it had. The TEAM seemed such a small cog in the wheel.
Suddenly, Vinnie had turned invisible. Dom, too. Word was they’d fled the country when Zack exposed the operation like he did. ATF Director Carducci wasn’t the only one who wanted his head. Oh, no. There were others standing in line, including the FBI and a few local police chiefs. Heck, even the Navy wanted a piece of him.
Zack scrubbed a hand over his head and stiffened his spine. He and David had spent a lot of time together lately. They’d grown close. Then there were Mark and Harley, both overseas on some operation in Afghanistan. He sighed. I’m going to miss these guys.
The door opened. In walked Alex, powerful CEO and boss, with his sidekick, Murphy Finnegan, ex-Army and damned proud of it. Zack’s heart started a pounding beat. At least his boss hadn’t kicked the door open. He licked his lips and hunkered down, prepared for the bad cop, good cop beat down. He deserved it. Let it rain.
Alex took the position directly across from him. Not so good. Zack maintained eye contact, or at least tried to. Alex hadn’t looked at him–yet. It didn’t make any difference. All those finely honed “I own this damned business” skills were now directed straight at Zack. He waited. Might as well get it over with. Let me have it. Then I’ll leave.
Minutes passed while Alex opened his leather planner to yesterday’s two-page spread. Zack noticed the big black X over a good portion of the pages. That’s the kind of guy Alex was. He might keep meticulous notes, but then mark them up in a fit of temper. He might dress the part of a savvy businessman in the expensive gray suit he was wearing, but there was an ex-Marine beneath the burgundy shirt and black tie who could still take a man’s head off at a thousand yards–or less.
The man came out of the 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit at Camp Lejeune, South Carolina, like Zack had. They’d worked together when Alex was getting his covert op business off the ground. Zack was one of his first agents. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
At last, Alex lifted his eyes. Icy blues speared Zack clean through. A full on body-slam could not have hurt worse. He wilted. He’d disappointed the one man left in the world he truly respected.
“How is she?” Alex got right to the point.
“Dehydrated, malnourished, and frightened.” Zack spoke right up, ready to give his boss every last bit of information in his head. “She’s at Children’s National Medical Center in D.C. Boss, I didn’t have a choice. I–I—”
Alex waved the explanation off with a look of total irritation before turning to David. “What do we know about her?”
Zack clamped his mouth shut. Good. Talking about the girl was a positive sign. Alex had a daughter once. He cared about kids. Good.
“Child Protective Services has taken custody until Immigration and Customs can locate her parents. She’s Chinese, so I was able to talk wi
th her a little, but she’s only around five years old, maybe younger. It’s hard to know for sure.” David pushed several photos across the table as he calmly explained. “She’s very afraid. I couldn’t get much out of her. Different dialects, you understand. I’d be glad to spend more time with her when we’re through here.”
Alex studied the photos David had taken at the hospital. Zack had been there when the poor little gal came to. By then, she was wrapped in heated blankets, had an IV line in her skinny little arm, and Child Services had been called. The pictures showed everything. They also portrayed a lost child with dark, scared eyes.
“Boss, I—”
“Knock it off,” Alex hissed. If looks could kill.
Zack took a deep breath, shut up, and waited.
“So, we’ve got an endangered child on our hands who doesn’t speak English, two gangbangers in a blue cargo van full of bullet holes, and—”
“I’ve got the van on the surveillance video, Boss, and—”
Another scorching look and Zack’s throat squeezed shut. There was no sense in speaking. He was dead. His stupid brain just didn’t understand it yet.
“And we’ve got the duffle bags they carried into the apartment,” Alex snapped at him even as he turned to face David again. “Do we know what’s in those bags?”
“Fur coats. I ran some preliminary numbers. Street value is close to half a million.”
“Furs?” Alex’s nose wrinkled. “That’s an odd commodity for gangbangers.”
“Mother and Ember are working to identify the gang members from the video surveillance Zack mentioned. Metro PD thinks they’re 4th Street Tigers. I’ve got an all-points bulletin out for the van. We’re also checking the local precinct’s theft divisions to see if they’ve got anything on stolen furs or vans.” David’s gaze was as steady as Alex’s.
Zack (In the Company of Snipers Book 3) Page 3
