by KJ Kalis
Ferguson nodded.
Starting the video again, Jamison squinted at the screen. It looked like there were four men in total in the bank, dressed in black tactical gear, the kind that Tucson’s SWAT team wore, but without the police lettering on it. Their faces were covered in black ski masks which made them indistinguishable from each other except by their body sizes. It was an old-fashioned way to protect their identity. Each of them had on a pair of black gloves with a rifle strapped across their chest and a pistol on their hip. “Wearing those gloves means there’s no fingerprints.”
“And those ski masks means that the FBI is going to have a heckuva time trying to get fibers,” Ferguson said. “Without their heads exposed, it’s not likely any of them dropped any hairs, not that identifying a single hair in the building filled with people would be easy anyway.”
They got into the part of the video where it seemed like the kidnappers were getting ready to leave the building. As Jamison started it again, he noticed that two of the men stood conferring with each other, looking in the direction of Jess and Abby. What were they saying? One of the men pointed toward Jess and then moved his finger toward Abby. The other man, a shorter version of the one pointing, nodded. Jamison stopped the video for a second. “Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you, Ferguson?”
Ferguson nodded, “Well, it’s like they’d planned for Jess, but were surprised by Abby. What kind of people take a child instead of an adult? Sure, if they are trying to get to the Montgomery’s, taking the daughter is a better bet, for sure, but why risk it? Kids are more fragile and more unpredictable. For how methodical these guys are, you’d think they would’ve stuck to their original plan.” Ferguson stretched in his seat, putting his hands up on the back of his head, his elbows winging out from each side.
Jamison nodded, “I hear you. It does seem like they made a decision on the fly to take the daughter instead of the sister, doesn’t it?”
Ferguson stood up, tugging his pants up again, “I guess, but I don’t think you need to worry too much about this, Jamison. With the FBI taking the lead, I just need you to fill out a report and file it. Just link the video and note on there that the FBI has taken over and we’ll put this one to bed.”
Jamison nodded as Ferguson walked away. The video in front of him was stopped at the part where the men were pointing back and forth between the two Montgomery women. Ferguson was right about one thing — the kidnappers had taken the riskier option by grabbing Abby as opposed to sticking with what Jamison assumed was their original plan, to grab Jess. How had they identified her so quickly?
Tapping the keyboard again, Jamison let the video continue to run. Once the kidnappers were done conferring with each other, they started standing the hostages up, turning them toward the front door of the bank. The taller of the two men that had been talking pulled Abby out of line, away from her aunt. He saw the other men adjust the line, placing the hostages’ hands on each other’s shoulders, moving them toward the front door. But only two men were working on that. Jamison saw as two other men grabbed Abby by each elbow and moved her out of the camera angle. Jamison frowned. There had to be another camera in the bank, one that focused on the vault. He clicked over to his email and checked. The bank has sent a separate video. This must be the one with the vault angle, he thought, clicking on it and watching the progress bar as it loaded.
While Jamison waited, he stood up and walked over to the coffee, pouring himself a fresh cup. In the chaos of the morning, he’d missed lunch, not that he was hungry. Something about this case had his full attention and he wasn’t sure why. Sure, they didn’t get a lot of cases this complex – usually just domestic issues and some minor robberies as Tucson was pretty safe – but this one had more layers to it than an onion. Jamison took a sip of his coffee and hoped he’d be able to help Jess and Chase in time.
By the time Jamison got back to his computer, the second video had loaded. His chair gave a creak as he sat down on it, clicking play on the video. As soon as he did, he saw the black masked kidnappers half walking and half dragging Abby into the vault. One of them kept his hand on her arm, like she was a prisoner in a jail, while the other one knelt down in front of the shelving unit that he now knew concealed their escape route. The man in the vault pulled and tugged until the shelving unit gave away, exposing the hole. He returned to where Abby was standing and pushed her forward. One of the men turned towards her, his mouth moving. A second later, he saw Abby kneel down. The same man that had given her the instruction to kneel pulled the hood off of her head. Jamison saw a wisp of hair float across her face. As she looked up, the camera caught her face in full view. She was a beautiful girl, Jamison realized. Wide eyes, wavy hair. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through. The men pushed her forward. The first man entering the tunnel, the second man staying behind, pushing Abby to follow him. At least they let her see where she was going, Jamison thought. He couldn’t imagine how she would navigate the tunnel without any sense of sight at all if they’d kept the hood on. He’d done it and it was terrifying enough when you weren’t being coerced. How Abby managed to get through the tunnel and follow the men, he wasn’t sure. It had to be pure terror, her body just running on adrenaline, fighting for survival.
Jamison stood up, shoving his hands in his back pockets, pacing in front of his desk. He knew he should just let the FBI handle this. They probably had agents all over the Montgomery’s house and Chase’s lab already. But there was something about it, something about the desperation Jess had shown that caught him by surprise. Was it her shock at not being able to find her niece? Sure, people got concerned when they couldn’t find their loved ones, but it was something more than that, something deeper. It was as though something precious had been trusted to Jess and she’d lost it. Jess had searched for Abby with the desperation of a mother. Jamison sat back down at his computer and ran another search on Jess. A second later, pulling up her records, he realized she was unmarried with no kids. Her attachment to her niece still seemed just a little over the top. He wasn’t that close to his own family. Maybe there was a painful family history he didn’t know about? An issue between Chase and Jess? Jamison shook his head. There’d be no way to figure any of that out if he couldn’t get the Montgomery’s to talk to him.
Looking down at the floor, Jamison realized he only had a bare bones knowledge of the facts on the case. He knew there’d been a well-planned kidnapping of a twelve-year-old girl, no money stolen from a bank, an extraordinary level of planning and execution, and a family that didn’t want to cooperate. The whole thing smelled funny, and he wanted to know why…
14
“She’s secure?” Landon grunted at Alvarez as he walked back to the command center.
“Yes, sir.”
Landon glanced over at the cage in the center of the warehouse where Piper and Abby were now locked up. Piper had her arms around her daughter, one of her hands stroking Abby’s face and pushing the hair out of her eyes. What they were saying, Landon couldn’t quite hear. He was sure it was some emotional mumbo-jumbo, the kind of stuff that Piper loved so much. He wasn’t that kind of guy, but he’d played along, at least long enough to get her to trust him. The sex hadn’t been bad either. She came at him like starved rabbit, which told him pretty much all he needed to know about her relationship with Chase. But Piper wasn’t the kind of woman he ever wanted to spend more than a night or two with. She was part of the mission, that’s all.
When Colonel Foster had approached him about acquiring the ABG, Landon had listened quietly to the framework of the mission Foster had put together. Adding Piper into the mix had been Landon’s suggestion, his way of making sure they had complete control over the family. “The fewer options Chase has, the better,” Landon had said to Foster after they’d spend about a week of planning.
And now the day was here…
It remained to be seen whether Chase would cooperate and give them the ABG or not. Landon looked down at the tactical wristwatch h
e had on. He’d had it since he was in the Army. Never took it off. It was black with a black strap and read the time whether it was night or day or underwater or in a plane. The thing was nearly indestructible. It was like him. The Army had tried to destroy him with their rules. They said they were written in stone, but they weren’t. When Landon had bent them a little bit to get the mission he’d been assigned done for Foster, a promotion chasing JAG attorney decided to charge him. A sour taste filled his mouth remembering the trial, which had only lasted two hours. A dishonorable discharge. His attorney told him to be happy he didn’t get jail time. They’d given him the watch back at the end of his case once he’d been released from his holding cell. He’d kept it on ever since to remind him to never trust anyone. No one. He could only trust himself.
Looking at the time, Landon realized Chase only had a few hours left until the deadline. From what they could tell by the tracker on his car and the cameras they had planted in the parking lot, it looked like he was at the lab. That was good news. If he was sitting around at home that could signal a problem. Landon glanced over to Baker, who was leaning over the computer screens, jotting something down on their mission log. “Location on Papa Bear?” That was the name they’d given to Chase. Not that they really needed target names for this small of an operation, but it was the way the men were used to working, so Landon kept it in play.
Baker glanced at Landon and then sat down in one of the chairs, tapping something on the computer before looking up again. He pointed at the screen, “Still at the lab. I think the sister is there with him. That’s good news, right?”
“That’s only good news if he’s packing up the ABG to hand it over to us.”
Landon stared again at Piper and Abby, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He had no feelings for Piper, none that were real. She and Abby were just collateral damage. The reality was that what Colonel Foster wanted, he got. That’s why Zeta Tactical Consulting was growing and thriving. Just in the last month, Foster had told him they’d added another ten operators, carefully screened and trained, the best of the best.
Landon glanced at his team. They were all holding their positions and their roles exactly as trained. Baker was running the command center at the moment. Reinhardt was sitting on a folding chair in front of the cage, watching Piper and Abby, still working on sunflower seeds. Alvarez was keeping an eye on the door to the street outside in case anyone came calling.
Walking out from behind the command center, Landon wandered over toward Reinhardt. As he approached, he could hear the shells from the sunflower seeds hit the concrete floor. There would be DNA all over it, but Landon wasn’t worried. Colonel Foster had a cleanup team stationed about a mile away. As soon as they completed their exfil, hopefully with the ABG in hand, the cleanup team would come in, remove all the technology and the cage and basically sterilize the entire building. Foster was thorough that way. “How are they doing?” he said to Reinhardt.
“A lot of whining and crying if you ask me,” Alvarez said, glancing up at Landon. “I almost taped their mouths again, but then they got quiet.”
Landon looked at Piper and Abby. They were sitting huddled together on the metal bench at the back of the cage. Abby was looking at the floor as though she found something on her tennis shoes to be completely interesting. Piper did not, however. She glared at Landon, her arm protectively around her daughter. “How could you?” she hissed. “I don’t know what this is about, but look at her, she’s terrified!”
Landon stared back at Piper but didn’t say anything. He looked at Abby for a second. She looked nothing like her mother. Her face was rounder, and her hair was the same dark color as her father’s. Landon wondered if Abby got as hysterical as Piper did. Landon had met other women like Piper in the past — ones with too much money and too much time on their hands. After a little while, the only thing they could focus on was themselves. That wasn’t what he was about. Whether people understood it or not, Landon was all about his country and protecting the freedoms they had. After a while, the Army didn’t understand his motives, but Colonel Foster sure did.
Landon gave a slight nod to Reinhardt. As soon as he did, Reinhardt stood up, pulling a single key from his pocket. Landon stood at the gate for a second while Reinhardt undid the lock. He remembered back to a few weeks before when they had discussions on the layout of the warehouse. Colonel Foster’s briefing team, which included Foster and two other project managers were sitting around a large conference table, the wall plastered with live time monitors of other Zeta Tactical Consulting missions around the globe. They’d been locked in the planning session for three hours. One of the project managers, a young woman, glanced at Landon, “We’re not thinking we’re going to have to provide a lock for the cage. After all, you know Piper.”
His mind flashed back to the last time he’d seen her. It’d been fun while it lasted, he thought. “So, you’re assuming that she won’t try to get out of the cage because we are all standing right there in front of her?”
The young woman nodded, “That would be my assumption. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“No, actually I think we should run this mission like we would run any other. If we were securing prisoners anywhere else, we would lock the cage. This one should be no different.” Landon felt like adding a stinging comment like, “You should know better,” at the end of what he said, but decided against it. The woman he was talking to wasn’t a slouch when it came to mission planning — she’d been one of the very first females to get through Army Ranger training. It was a mental slip, nothing more.
Standing just outside of the cage, Landon waited for Reinhardt to undo the padlock and chain that held the gate together. Landon glanced up. There was no wire over the top of the cage. Theoretically, Abby or Piper could have scaled the chain-link fence, hopped over the other side and made a run for the door, but the odds of them making their escape was virtually zero, not unless all four of the Zeta team members were incapacitated. That wasn’t going to happen.
The chain dangling on the gate gave a little jingle as Reinhardt pulled it open. Reinhardt stayed in the doorway as Landon walked in. He approached Piper, pulling her up from the little bench she was sitting on, “Let’s go.”
“Where’re we going?”
“To get a lovely picture of you to send to your husband. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Landon said, sarcastically.
Just beyond the cage in the opposite end of the warehouse from where the command center was, the set up team had hung a black backdrop on a set of poles. It draped down onto the floor, covering the area where they were standing. There were no markings or landmarks anyone would be able to decipher. Landon dragged Piper towards it, “No, I don’t want to leave Abby. Landon, what are you doing!”
“Piper, this will go much easier if you just cooperate.”
There was a small table positioned just on the outside of where the draping had been installed. On it was one of the black masks and gloves they’d used that morning. Landon stopped for a second, handing Piper off to Reinhardt while he pulled the mask and gloves back on. They’d learned the hard way a few years before that making sure they were wearing gloves at all times made a difference. An operation in Bulgaria had gone south because one of the team members had a noticeable tattoo on one hand and a scar on the other. The Bulgarians had quickly figured out who they were and found out where they were holding a government official they were getting ready to transport to a CIA black site. The team didn’t have a chance to initiate the transfer before Bulgarian special forces breached the building they were in. No one survived. Landon watched the entire thing from the command center. That was the one thing about Colonel Foster, Landon thought, tugging the black gloves onto his fingers, he didn’t make the same mistake twice. Ever since then, there’d been a policy that all operations would be done with gloves on and long sleeves, no matter the heat, no matter the situation. Their skin had to be covered at all times.
With his mask and gloves now on, Lan
don gripped Piper’s arm and pulled her forward onto the black fabric. It slipped and slid a little bit underneath his boots as he moved her towards the back. Landon spun Piper around, keeping a tight grip on her arm. He didn’t think she’d run or even try to struggle away. She didn’t have that kind of personality. She was more compliant, more docile, than the people he was used to working with. Seeing how easy it was to maneuver her, he was glad for the amount of time he’d spent with her prior to the operation. Somehow, knowing who’d kidnapped her made her more cooperative, not less. It was a calculated tactic, one that he and Foster had spent quite a bit of time talking about, Foster tracking every little bit of the relationship between Landon and Piper and how it proceeded.
Standing just behind her in front of the black curtain, Landon could smell the faint scent of her perfume. He remembered Colonel Foster saying, “You’re going to have to be aggressive, but not too aggressive. We don’t want to spook her, but we’re on an accelerated timeline. Get your hooks into her, if you know what I mean, it’s time to get on with this.”
From a sheath on the back of his belt, Landon used his right hand to pull out a long knife. He stared forward for just a second, keeping the blade behind him so Piper wouldn’t see. Reinhardt was standing directly in front of him, holding up a cell phone, ready to take the picture. “Ready,” Reinhardt mumbled.
Without warning Piper, Landon wrapped his left hand across her chest, bringing his right hand up, settling the knife right against the tender skin of her neck. He pressed the blade in against the flesh just a little bit. He had no intention of slitting her throat, not at that moment at least. Her body was warm against his, but he didn’t feel anything for her. He never had.
