by Bob Blink
"No," she replied. "All is good. I'm just leaving the lab now. It was easy enough to check through Anne's stuff as you suggested. The only thing I found was her calendar memo for the original call to Carlson."
She explained what she had done, and Paul complimented her on her approach.
"The fact you found nothing else in her calendar or elsewhere, supports what we have been seeing. I don't think she had contacted Carlson a second time."
Natalie made a turn as she listened to Paul speak.
"Have you learned anything?" she asked when he finished.
"I finally managed to get a dump of the calls made from the cell phone number that your CFO Anne used to contact Carlson," he said. "It must be Carlson's personal phone. I wish we could do the same for her office phone, but those are official FBI records, and there is no way I know of to get access to them."
"What did you find?" she asked.
"She doesn't have an active list of friends. She made a number of calls to her partner Jim Laney, as you might expect. There's also a number to another agent, a Norman Hoffman. I am guessing that is the boyfriend my contacts have mentioned. There were a couple of calls to local numbers I've had traced, and those were to a couple of retired FBI agents she used to work with. I have some people looking into them. Finally, there were a couple of calls to a Burner phone like ours. There is no name linked to it, and it surprisingly has a West Coast area code. She called or was called from that number several times, although nothing the last couple of days."
"Do you have any idea who she might have been calling?" Natalie asked.
"My guess is this strange consultant she sometimes uses and who was seen around the past week. A guy named Trask. No one seems to know much about him, other than she has brought him on board in the past for some of the more high profile cases. My source is of the opinion he left Washington just the other day."
Natalie felt an odd chill run up her arms.
"Can you find out more about this guy?" she asked. "I wonder if he might be their Backslider?"
"That might explain some of Carlson's past successes on the major cases she's brought him on-board for," Paul agreed. "But why would he be leaving now. They have to still be trying to sort out what is happening."
"I don't know," Natalie admitted, "but I had an odd feeling when you mentioned his name. He's the only outsider in their group, and somehow I have trouble believing the FBI would officially have someone with my ability in their ranks, and be able to keep it secret. Carlson, however, especially if she was working privately somehow with this guy, might have been able to maintain a low profile about his ability."
"I'll put some people on it," Paul agreed.
"Have you thought anymore about coming to Washington?" Natalie asked, a little annoyed with herself for doing so. She hated to press, but she wanted some moral support, which she realized made her appear weak.
Paul appeared not to notice.
"I was thinking of driving down later tonight. I'd probably get there late, but I've done about all I can from here. I think it would be better to be closer to the action in case something happens. Besides, there are a couple of people I can put to work checking out this consultant, but I'd have to meet with them in person, and they are there."
"Good," Natalie said, surprised at the relief in her voice. "I'm relieved that it's been a couple of days since the accident and they have shown no indication of being aware of it, but we aren't clear on that yet. Also, they don't seem to be reacting to the aborted attempt on Jim Laney like I'd expect. I can't help wonder if they are being tricky somehow."
"Well talk about it when I get there," Paul suggested, as if realizing they had been speaking a little more freely than might be wise over the open airwaves, even if they were using untraceable phones.
"What about Jeff?" she asked. "Will he be coming with you?"
"I don't think so," Paul said. "He has some things he needs to take care of, and I've asked him to round up some help in case we need it. The kind of help we could easily dispose of if it became necessary. Besides, I find having him hanging around your place a little limiting."
Natalie flushed as she realized what Paul was thinking. She also relished the thought of her and Paul having some privacy as well. Tomorrow was Sunday, with no need to go into work, they could spend the entire day together.
"What are you planning?" she asked.
"We'll discuss options once I get there, but I think we need a distraction to keep the minds of these Feds occupied for a few more days. As you mentioned, it hasn't been very long since the accident."
Natalie nodded. That was something she worried about a great deal. If Carlson and her team weren't seeking who had made a move on Jim Laney, what were they doing? She hoped they weren't planning something clever with regards to Anne's death. If their Backslider could inform them before it happened, Natalie was certain Carlson would call the former CFO, and that could lead the Feds right to them.
She shivered a bit, and said, "I'll be waiting for you."
"Probably around ten tonight," Paul said, and then ended the call.
Paul set the phone on the counter and considered what he had to do to get ready for the drive. It wouldn't take long to pack. He had enough in the way of clothing already at Natalie's apartment, so he could minimize that effort. He would take one of the 'company' cars. He didn't want his car recognized, and the plates on the Organization owned vehicle would be difficult to link to anyone. His uncle insisted they have a number of such vehicles on hand. Finally he pondered what action they should take. Like Natalie, he was a little surprised at the lack of activity after the Laney situation, and pleased that the killing of Natalie's co-worker appeared to have gone unnoticed. If what Natalie said was true, then they had a few days to go before the killing passed beyond the reach of the FBI's Backslider, so they couldn't get too confident yet. He realized he'd forgotten to ask her about her ability, and whether she was regaining the ability to Backslide again. She'd been in Washington for nearly two days, so if she was correct about what she'd learned, she should be able to use any of that time as potential targets. He would like to know if she'd regain her ability to reach her former self here in New York if she was to return to the area, but that was something they'd have to explore at another time.
Chapter 25
Saturday Afternoon, May 14
Jake looked around the mini-fortress they had barely finished moving into.
"Looks like we're going to leave this all behind us," he said.
Tony nodded.
"I don't think either of us would have been very happy sitting here doing nothing. This way we can be part of the solution, and by being in a place they won't expect us, we'll most likely be every bit as secure as we would be hiding here. You won't be in a place you can Back-Track as easily though."
"I don't think that will be very significant, unless something major happens. In that case, we'll simply have to drive back toward Washington so I can deal with whatever happened."
"First thing is to load up a few things we might be needing," Tony said as he led the way to the study and opened the large vault door that led to the gun safe and hidden panic room.
"That Sig of yours is an effective sidearm, but it's a bit large," Tony said. "That's not a problem if you are playing Fed, and can flash the ID Susan supplied you with to anyone who inquires, but we might want to be a little less forthright at times."
He grabbed something from one of the shelves and handed it to Jake. It was a surprisingly light and tiny pistol.
"A Kimber Solo," Jake said looking at the diminutive pistol. "Susan lent me one a long time ago. I never got a chance to shoot it as I recall. This one's a bit fancier than the one she had."
The tiny striker fired 9mm weighed a mere seventeen ounces, and had a laser on the grip, as well as Tritium Nite Sights. It wouldn't be worth much at distance, but it was certainly something he could conceal.
Jake grabbed the pair of already loaded magazines t
hat were sitting on the shelf next to where the pistol had been and shoved them in a pocket. Each held only six rounds. He knew that Tony carried a small 1911 Springfield in .40 S&W, but he didn't see anything like that on the shelf.
Next Tony handed Jake one of the AR-15s and an ammo can, then grabbed one of the shotguns and a couple of boxes of shells.
"This will provide us with more firepower than we should need," Tony said and led the way out to the SUV in the garage.
He opened the rear hatch, and then a concealed compartment in the floor of the vehicle. This wasn't an add-on, but something the government had built into the vehicle when it was ordered. Jake spotted a long rifle, something he had seen Tony use in the past, as well as a variety of explosive devices that could potentially cause a lot of havoc. They placed the long guns in the compartment, along with the ammunition, then closed it up.
Tony stood after closing up the vehicle and looked at Jake.
"I'm unknown to these people," he said after a moment. "At least, I should be. Only a handful of people know that I'm involved, or that Susan even knows me. That means I don't have to worry about being recognized. We don't know how much they know about you, however. With luck they haven't even stumbled onto the fact that a Bob Trask has been acting as a consultant to Susan, nor do they have any idea what he looks like. But I don't think we want to risk it."
Tony reached into another compartment along the sidewall of the vehicle, and pulled out a narrow kit roughly the size of a normal attaché case. He signaled Jake to follow and they headed back into the house.
"I recommend a change of hair color, a pair of heavy framed glasses, and perhaps a moustache," Tony said once they were back inside the house.
Jake looked at the contents of the makeup kit, which contained a variety of items in various colors along with bottles of dye. More than once in the past he'd colored his hair for a change in appearance, but that had been a very long time ago. He fingered the pair of glasses with the non-correcting lenses, then slid them on.
"Let's try to get by without the moustache," he said finally. "They drive me crazy and I'd probably rub it off at an inopportune moment."
Fifteen minutes later Jake reappeared from the bathroom, his hair considerably darker with the glasses in place.
"That should be sufficient," Tony agreed.
While Jake had been coloring his hair, Tony had filled the SUV with their limited luggage and some linens from the storage closet, and had rendered most of their communications gear inoperable before stashing it in the panic room. Before the secret gear could be used again, the password that Tony had input had to be used while the units were connected to a special piece of test gear not available outside of his headquarter's labs. Any attempt to use the gear without the proper steps being followed would cause the gear to self-destruct. The only thing they would be bringing would be the small hand held devices that looked like large smart phones. He had also performed a quick search on the Internet and found them a monthly rental near Columbia University, paying the full month's rent from a secure account he kept for such things.
"Let's go," Tony said, after giving Jake's modification his approval.
A short time later they were headed northeast on I-95. Depending on traffic, the drive should take roughly four hours, getting them into New York by early evening when Tony had arranged to meet the landlord of the small house he'd chosen. They passed somewhat east of Baltimore, stopping briefly for lunch, then continuing onward. They had passed Philadelphia when Jake asked about their communications.
"How do these things work?"
"I have no idea," Tony admitted. "Somehow they piggyback on the provider's cellular gear, linking back into the government systems. There is no positional information to reveal where the phones are located, and no recording of their use. Once on the SIPRnet, any of the devices that are set up and properly linked, can sense messages. Our phones, and those that Susan, Jim, and Norm are carrying, have been configured as a unique group, so they alone will be aware of our messages. Even if someone was aware of the messages we might pass, without something like NSA's computers, they aren't going to be able to decode what is being sent."
"These aren't on the JWICS system you said the other gear was configured for?"
"These haven't been rated for that, but there isn't any reason to need it either. These will be secure enough, and anyone trying to monitor Susan or Jim's cellular traffic, will be totally unaware they are communicating with us."
As they approached New York, Jake noted the impressive railroad yard with endless lines of tracks they passed by, and later the number of waterways they had to cross.
"Are you familiar with New York?" Tony asked.
"I climbed the statue of Liberty once," Jake replied, "and rode a bike through Central Park one afternoon."
Tony shot him a glance.
"That's all you know about the place?"
"Okay, I've been here a couple of times, but always with someone who knew the area. It isn't a place where I know my way around. The West Coast is more familiar to me."
"I'll keep that in mind," Tony said as he emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel and turned toward Columbia University. Paul, the suspect who had been groomed for a bright future within the Organization, had an upscale apartment on Lexington, a few blocks from Central Park, and only a few miles from where they would set up their base. Jeff Rineri wasn't so well placed, and lived across the East River in Queens, a place called Astoria. A long time ago the area had been where many Italians had congregated upon settling in New York, and there were a large number of them still living there, although the demographic was considerably more varied these days.
A couple of days spent in the Big Apple had provided little insight into who the two men had been involved with when the attacks against Susan were planned. They had found Jeff Rineri easily enough, but they had had no luck spotting Paul Martin, aka Paolo Martini. He had not made an appearance in his very plush apartment the entire time Jake and Tony had been in the city. Tony had wanted to bug the apartment, but given that Paul wasn't around, Susan felt the risks outweighed any potential advantage. It appeared that Paul was away, possibly in Washington, although he hadn't been spotted there either. They'd have to wait and see if he might return. As for Jeff, if he was making any incriminating phone calls, he was being very circumspect and doing it on phones they didn't know about. He also wasn't meeting with anyone who was the type that could have been part of either the kidnappings or the sniper attack.
The Director of the FBI had cancelled the APB on Jeff as soon as they had learned his name some days ago, indicating to the New York Office that the true killer being sought was someone else, and the search for Jeff Rineri had been in error. They hadn't wanted any overly zealous agents or policemen to go after Rineri and reveal that he had been spotted. With the amount of crime in the city, those who had momentarily had an interest in him, soon forgot about him, leaving Tony and Jake free to watch him, and monitor his cellular calls free from interference. Tony had some gear that allowed them to mimic Rineri's phone, since they knew his number, but the calls on the personal cell had been mundane, mostly to various women that Jeff apparently had ongoing relationships with. He moved around a great deal, clearly performing certain duties for the Mob, although some of the individuals he met with in the evenings looked to be freelance toughs who he might be recruiting for some task or another. Both Jake and Tony were convinced that Paul was the one they needed to monitor, but he still remained missing.
Tuesday morning, the beginning of their third day in the city, Susan called and informed them of an attack against the two retired agents she'd brought onboard earlier.
Chapter 26
Tuesday, May 17
"What happened?" Jake asked, after Susan informed them of the attack.
"I'd asked Lester and Solly to come into Headquarters," Susan explained. "I had a couple of tasks I felt they could help with. It didn't seem that their coming into the office, a place t
hey'd spent many years working at, would be out of the ordinary. But someone knew they were coming, and made a move against them on the way in."
"Separately?" Tony asked.
"They were riding together. They only live a mile or so apart, and chose to ride together. They used to do that when they were working, unless their work load dictated otherwise."
"How bad are they?" Jake asked. "Do I need to Back-Track and alert you to the attack so we can circumvent it?"
"I think that's exactly what this is about," Susan said. "I believe it's a ploy to try to flush out whoever is doing our Back-Tracking."
"I can go back and warn you from here," Jake reminded her. "There's no way they will learn anything."
"They'd gain further proof we have someone with your ability," Susan pointed out.
The attack was pretty amateurish," Jim said.
"What do you mean?" Tony asked.
"Two men drove up and forced them off a road in a relatively quiet spot on the highway from Solly's home," Susan explained. "The car went into the ditch, and the attackers started firing at them from their car, which they had stopped along the edge of the highway. "
"One of the men had a handgun, and the other a Mini-14. Lester was shot three times in the upper leg, but Solly escaped with only some bumps and bruises from when their car rolled. He was shooting back when a local Police Cruiser came upon the scene, which caused the shooters to flee."
"How is Lester?" Jake asked.
"He's in the hospital. Solly was checked and released, but we asked Lester to play along and see what happens."
"I don't understand," Tony said. "Play along?"
"Lester got shot in his artificial leg. Other than severe damage to his prosthetic, he is fine. I thought it might be informative to see if there is any reaction to his being in serious condition. He is well protected by the local police, who don't know his true condition. I had a talk with the doctor responsible for his 'case'. He's an old friend."
