by L. J. Taylor
The years had not been kind to him. Lines that weren’t there before had etched themselves into his face further altering his appearance.
“Hello, old chap,” Manning said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Charles was not the least bit amused. “Let’s get down to it. What do I have to do to get my father back?”
“What? No small talk? You always were all business. I like that about you,” Manning said. His grin faded in the face of Charles’ continued silence.
“How do you know I want anything from you other than your life?”
Charles, looked away, feigning boredom. “You wouldn’t have dragged me all the way here or kidnapped my father if you just wanted to take me out,” he said. He turned back to Manning and looked him dead in the eye. “So what do you want?”
“I need for you to file a notice of voluntary dismissal of the lawsuit with prejudice. I also need for you to return all the documents your little hacker friend stole from Peachtree. Don’t worry, a large sum will make its way into your bank account for your trouble and your father will be released,” Manning said.
“I need proof of life,” Charles said.
Manning nodded. He pulled out a cell phone and made a call.
Charles could hear the music used by the Skype program. “I swear, if you have harmed a hair on my father’s head, I will kill you.”
Manning yawned. “Your father is fine.” He turned the phone toward Charles. “See for yourself.”
Charles looked at the phone. His father was still strapped to the chair that appeared in the video file. His face wasn’t bruised and he didn’t appear to have any injuries, but he looked tired. He watched his father blink. “Where is he?”
Manning shook his head. “First things first. Go have your hot little girlfriend file the notice of voluntary dismissal. When we receive notification that it’s been filed, you’ll get a call from me telling you where you can find him. The money will be in your accounts by close of business tomorrow.”
Charles weighed his options. His first impulse was to beat Manning senseless and torture him until he gave up the location. He wanted to put his hands on Manning so badly he could almost taste it. But it wouldn’t work. Manning was well trained. He could probably withstand a great deal of torture. By the time he gave up his father’s location - assuming he ever did - it would be too late. He had no choice but to rely upon the F.B.I.’s plan to tail Manning in the hopes he led them back to his father’s location. He had to make Manning believe he had given up.
“How do I know your operative didn’t kill my father the minute you hung up or that you won’t send someone after me once the lawsuit is dismissed?” Charles asked.
Manning shrugged. “You don’t. I guess you’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll trust you to know your life won’t be worth living if my father is not returned to me safe and sound.” He looked Manning in the eyes. “Tell me I’m lying.”
Manning said nothing.
Charles turned and walked out of the park.
***
Two hours later, Kathy watched Charles enter the safe house. Sighing with relief, she walked up and put her arms around him. His arms came around her. She buried her face in his chest for a moment and held on. She didn’t give a damn what the agents thought.
“I was watching the surveillance footage. I was so scared it was a trap,” she said. She pulled back. “What took you so long to get back here?”
“I had to be sure I lost any tails Manning might have set on me,” Charles said.
“Are you sure you did?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I didn’t spot any. Either they were damned good or there weren’t any. I’m betting on the latter. Since Manning has my father, he doesn’t need to know where I am. He knows he can get me to come to him.” He turned to Agent Michaels. “How about the tail on Manning? Any luck on getting the location where he’s holding my father?”
Agent Michaels shook his head. “No. Manning’s as good as you are at slipping surveillance. He lost the teams we put on him an hour ago.”
“Damn it.” Charles pulled away from Kathy, turned and kicked the nearest piece of furniture. He rubbed his hands over his face. A thought came to him. He removed his hands and looked up. “He made a Skype call from his cell phone when I was with him. Proof of life. Can you isolate his cell phone signal?”
“Maybe.” Agent Michaels pulled out his cell phone and made a call to someone at F.B.I. headquarters.
Charles turned to Kathy. “I need for you to prepare a notice of voluntary dismissal and send it over to Stewart Weisman for comment. Can you do that from here?”
Kathy nodded. “Sure. Better yet, I can get Erin to do it. That would be much easier and there would be no way for Peachtree or Manning or anyone else to trace the e-mail back to us here. I guess you’ve decided to dismiss the lawsuit.”
Charles shook his head. “No. I’m just going to make Manning believe I decided to do it to buy us time to find my father. He’s not going to leave witnesses around who are able to testify about the kidnapping. He doesn’t intend to let my father go and he knows better than to leave me alive if he kills him. He plans to take us both out after I dismiss the lawsuit and return the documents I downloaded from Peachtree’s server.”
Kathy blanched. “Can he really be that ruthless?”
Charles laughed. The sound was anything but mirthful. “Oh, this is nothing. Manning would take down an entire plane full of people just to get to one target. The man has no scruples whatsoever.”
Agent Michaels walked back into the room. “We’ve got a location.”
“Where?” Charles asked.
“The address is a commercial warehouse building near the Miami Airport.” Agent Michaels opened up his laptop, pressed a button and a picture of the building came on screen. “There’s a security camera installed in the building next door and a traffic cam in the light on the corner that gives us a view of the entrance.” He pressed some buttons. “This is footage from yesterday evening.”
They watched as a utility van pulled up to the entrance of the warehouse. Two men jumped out the back of the van and carried Mr. Morgan inside. The driver opened his door and stepped out. He wore a Florida Power & Light uniform and carried a clipboard. His face was hidden by his cap for the first few shots, but when he turned his head to address the men, the camera got a clear shot of his face. It was Manning.
Charles’ hands curled into fists. “We have to go get my father.”
Tyler walked up to Charles and patted him on the back. Although the gesture was meant to soothe, Kathy could see the anger Tyler felt in his eyes and the rigid set of his jaw.
Agent Michaels nodded. “I agree. But first we have to conduct a little recon. We don’t want to go off half-cocked and get your father killed.”
“Alright, but do it quick. We don’t have much time,” Charles said.
***
At eight o’clock that night, Charles, the F.B.I. agents, and an S.W.A.T. team met in a commercial warehouse building near the Miami airport. Agent Michaels stood at the head of the table near a screen showing schematics of the warehouse and the surrounding area.
“Gentlemen, we’re going to post S.W.A.T. team snipers here and here,” he said. He turned to the screen and pointed to the rooftops of two nearby buildings.
“How do we know Manning doesn’t already have men or eyes there?” Charles asked.
“Because my men did recon of the area and those locations were clean. They detected no video surveillance,” Agent Michaels said. He brought up a large schematic of the warehouse building. “The only entry points are the front and back entrances to the building. There is a large warehouse space with an office and a bathroom on the right hand side. There are no windows in the warehouse. Heat signatures indicate there is a single person in the middle of the larger room. There is no indication of any other persons in the building.”
Something was very
wrong. It wasn’t like Manning to leave his flank exposed and it certainly wasn’t like him to leave a hostage alone. Charles pondered that for a moment and then it came to him. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest. “Oh my God.”
All of the men turned to look at him.
“What?” Agent Michaels asked.
“He rigged the place to blow,” Charles said, almost under his breath.
“Speak up man, I’m trying to get this operation moving,” Agent Michaels said.
“I said Manning rigged the place to blow. That’s been his plan all along – to give me the address to the building after I dismissed the lawsuit and then take me and my father out in the explosion. If done right, the explosion could be passed off as a tragic accident,” Charles said.
Agent Michaels rubbed a hand over his face and raised weary eyes to Charles. It had been a long day for all of them. “What makes you think that?”
“Why else would Manning leave my father alone in that warehouse? I bet you money that place is rigged to blow and that he’s around here somewhere watching and waiting for me to walk into that building. Either that or he has eyes inside the building. He might even have a remote trigger to make sure the bomb doesn’t go off prematurely.”
“He’s right,” Tyler said. “Charles and I dealt with that lunatic when we were in the Corps. He’s cold-blooded and crazy. This is just his style.”
Agent Michaels pulled out his cell phone and called for a bomb squad.
***
Manning sat in a room at the Comfort Inn and Suites near the airport. The hotel wasn’t up to his usual standards, but it served its purpose. He watched the surveillance footage from the cameras he had planted in the warehouse. The minute father and son were reunited they’d be blown to hell.
Manning smiled. His plan was virtually foolproof. When Morgan died, his lawsuit would die with him.
He’d worked with Morgan before. Morgan always did the right thing. He was the good guy who couldn’t live with what he believed were unnecessary casualties. To Manning, civilian casualties were just collateral damage – a necessary sacrifice to achieve the objective.
Charles would enter that warehouse because he was a dutiful son and he had to believe he could get his father out alive. Charles had a faith Manning could never understand. Whatever faith he once had was lost during his stay in a Chinese prison camp. When he finally escaped after killing a dozen guards, he vowed never to stray from his objective ever again. That’s what had gotten him captured to begin with. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and focused on the surveillance footage again.
***
“We’ve got to find Manning,” Charles said. “He probably has a remote detonator.”
“We’re working on that,” Agent Michaels said. “But if he’s within sight of that building he must be invisible or very well hidden. My men have searched the surrounding area thoroughly. There’s no sign of him.”
Charles turned to one of the bomb techs. “How close would he have to be remotely detonate the bomb?”
The bomb tech shrugged. “It depends on how he rigged it. If it’s rigged to a cell phone, for example, he could phone it in from anywhere. Cell phone signals out here are spotty though. If it were me, I’d want to be close – no more than a mile or two away.”
“Gear up! We’re going in,” Agent Michaels said.
Charles turned to him. “I’m going with you.”
“No. You’re not,” Agent Michaels said. “You’re a civilian and a material witness. I’m not going to be responsible for putting you in danger.”
The stress and strain of the past forty-eight hours finally got to Charles. He lost it and grabbed Agent Michaels by the lapels of his F.B.I. jacket. “Listen you bloodless, by the book, bastard. That’s my father in there. I need to get him out and you can’t stop me.”
Agent Michaels jerked out of Charles’ grasp. “Oh no? I could have your ass arrested right now for assaulting a federal officer.”
Tyler walked up and stepped in between the two men. “Gentlemen, there’s no reason for this to escalate. Look, we’re all on edge right now.” He turned to Charles and looked him in the eye. “I will go in there and get Mr. Morgan out. You know how much he means to me. You stay here and help them find Manning.”
As much as Charles wanted to protest, he knew Tyler was right. If they didn’t find Manning and stop him from using that remote trigger, the chances of getting his father out in one piece were slim to none. He sighed. “Alright,” he said, “but you better get him out or your life will not be worth living.”
“If I don’t get him out, it’s because I’m no longer living,” Tyler said.
Charles nodded. He held out his fist. “Semper fi, my brother.”
Tyler bumped his fist against Charles’. “Semper fi.”
***
After Tyler and the others left for the warehouse, Charles turned to one of the agents left behind. “Agent Peters isn’t it?”
The man nodded.
“Do we have any leads at all with respect to Manning’s location?” Charles asked.
“Yes. We cross-referenced all calls made to and from the phone he used at the park. One of those calls came from a Comfort Inn on LeJeune. We’re sending some agents there to check it out.”
“We need to go check that out ourselves. If I know Manning – and unfortunately I do - he’s holed up somewhere close where he can pop by and see the results of his handiwork. That airport hotel is the perfect place. It’s large enough for him to check in unnoticed and has plenty of exits in case he has to get out of there fast. I don’t want your agents to spook him. Let’s go.” He stood up.
Agent Peters hesitated. “My orders are to stay here with you.”
Charles shook his head. “No. Your orders are to protect me. I’m going there. You can come with me or you can stay here by yourself. I’m not a suspect and I’m free to leave.” He walked to the door and then turned back to face Agent Peters. “Are you coming or do I need to get a cab to the Comfort Inn?”
Agent Peters looked at his partner, who shrugged his shoulders. They followed Charles out the door.
Ten minutes later, they walked into the lobby of the hotel and approached the front desk. Agent Peters flashed his badge and showed the front desk clerk a photo of Manning. “Is this man staying at your hotel?
The front desk clerk, a grizzly old man, glanced at the photo with bleary eyes then shook his head. “We have a lot of people staying at the hotel. It’s season, you know. I can’t remember every Tom, Dick and Jorge who walks by.”
Charles stepped from behind Agent Peters and leaned against the front desk. “This is very important. Take a good look at the photo and try to remember. Have you seen this man? He’s armed and very dangerous – not the type of man you want staying at your hotel.”
The old man looked at the photo more closely. Recognition flared in his eyes. He scratched his scalp. “Yeah. Come to think of it, I saw someone who kind of looked like that walk by here yesterday. Except his hair was lighter. I remember wondering where he was going because I didn’t remember him checking in. He must be part of that group.”
“Part of what group?” Agent Peters asked.
“Most of our rentals are short-term. You know, people on vacation or business trips. They stay for a few days or a couple of weeks max. But there are some companies that rent out rooms for thirty or more days. They get a monthly rate. I remember thinking he must be going to one of those rooms.”
Charles heart beat a little faster. “How many rooms are you currently renting out on a monthly basis?”
The old man turned to the computer on his desk and tapped a few keys. “Two. Rooms 408 and 1532.”
Two more F.B.I. agents joined them at the front desk. Agent Peters greeted them and brought them up to speed.
“We’re going to need keys to those rooms,” Charles said.
The old man shook his head. “I can’t let you have those. It’s against hotel policy.
I could lose my job over that. I’ll have to send security with you to the rooms.”
“Fine, but make it quick. The man we’re looking for is responsible for planting a bomb that’s about to go off any minute and kill F.B.I. agents and innocent civilians – one of which is my father.” Charles looked into the old man’s eyes. “Do you have any children? Grandchildren? A wife?”
The old man nodded. He programmed two keys and handed them to Charles. “These master keys will get you into both rooms. I’ll send security up after you.”
Charles shook his hand. “Thanks man.” He turned to Agent Peters and held up the keys. “Let’s go.”
Agent Peters took one of the keys and handed it to one of the agents. “We’ll take 408. You take 1532.”
The agents nodded and headed off. Charles, Agent Peters and his partner took the stairs up to the fourth floor.
“You need to stay back while we check this out,” Agent Peters said.
Charles’ hands curled into fists. It was so frustrating to keep running into these obstacles when they had no time to fool around. “Whatever. We don’t have time to argue. Just get in there and separate him from that detonator.”
Agent Peters nodded. He walked down the hall to join his partner who had his ear to the door of the hotel room. His partner shook his head, indicating he had heard nothing. Agent Peters pulled out the master key and slid it into the lock. A low buzzer sounded and the light above the door handle flashed from red to green. He turned the knob and pushed the door in. His partner led the way. Agent Peters followed, going in low.
Gunshots erupted. Charles’ heart froze.
CHAPTER XXIV
Agent Michaels, Tyler, and the others stood outside the door of the warehouse.
“Scans show just one heat signature in the middle of the warehouse. No-one has been observed entering or leaving the building,” one agent said. “We also scanned the front door looking for booby traps and found no signs of any.”
Agent Michaels nodded. “How much longer until they take the hinges off the front door?”
“Not long. They have to go slow to make sure the door isn’t wired.”
