by Cat Connor
“Hey, Conway,” the tallest one said, a wide grin plastered across his face, the warrant in his hand.
“Jefferies,” I replied, then looked at his partner. “Andrews.”
“What have we got?”
“Hidden basement room with access via two closets. No visual. Got your fancy fiber optic camera about?”
“We’ll go have a looksee,” Andrews said. He touched his throat as he spoke again, “Ready the camera, need to get eyes under this house.” He headed back to the truck.
“Who is down there?” Jefferies asked.
“No visual, so no way to know for sure, but could be our target. A woman wanted for at least fifteen murders.”
Marjorie gasped.
I ignored her.
“Who is on site?”
“Delta A,” I replied. “Sam and Lee. Kurt is in the garage.”
“Come with me,” Jefferies said, indicating I should follow him. We walked toward the house. Kurt’s voice came over the radio on my belt.
“Calling in the crime scene unit. Over.”
“Is this it?” I knew he knew what I meant.
“Yes. We have bodies, we have the room used to butcher them.”
“How did she transport them? Over.”
“I have no fuc’n clue, yet. Over.”
There was a bang as a door shut on the truck. I turned to see. A perimeter was being set up. Marjorie was staring at something across the road. My heart did a sickening thump. A glint from a window. I pushed Jefferies hard knocking him sideways. “Gun!” I yelled.
Another glint from the same window in the house across the street and then shattering glass. “House straight across the street. Front window.”
The SWAT team on the ground moved fast, taking up covered positions. Another shot rang out. A piece of dirt kicked up near Marjorie. Terror smeared across her face. Two seconds later the look became permanent. Marjorie slumped sideways as brain and blood sprayed across the grass around her.
“Conway?” Jefferies called.
“Let’s get out of here,” I replied and wiped residual splatter off my face. I jumped to my feet and ran for the house, making it inside the open front door just as a bullet hit the door frame. Jefferies bolted in after me and slammed the door shut. We heard the wood splinter as bullets hit it.
“Keep down,” Jefferies said as we moved around the corner of the hallway by the closet with Sam.
Kurt was still in the garage and I didn’t want him coming out to see what was going on. I hit the squawk button on my radio. “Kurt, gunshots. Stay where you are. Over.”
“I heard. Everyone okay? Over.”
“Marjorie’s dead. We’re okay. Over.”
“What’s going on?” Sam asked. “Hey, Jeff.”
Jefferies did the man eyebrow-face-lift thing in lieu of speaking. He was listening to his team outside via his ear piece.
I spoke to Sam, “Someone opened fire from the house across the street.”
“Guess now we know where the tunnel goes,” he said.
I nodded.
Sam continued, “If the person is shooting out front, we could get in underneath them and take them by surprise.”
“We cannot assume this person hasn’t set traps.”
More gunfire. Sam nodded.
Jefferies turned and disappeared out through the kitchen door.
“Looks like Luella, or Fred, was visiting her sister when we arrived, which is why there was no one home when you checked the house across the street,” I said.
Seconds later Jefferies was back, with Andrews and two cases, one long and silver and one that looked like a drill case. It was a drill case.
Andrews drilled a small hole near the trap door and poked his handy camera in a cable down it.
“No traps on the door.”
He pulled the camera out and hurried down to Lee. Minutes later he called back. “This one has an explosive device set on it.”
“So it’s the hallway one we use,” I called back. “Could be her escape route.”
Andrews returned and said, “Going in there is a suicide mission. You’ve got a shooter who doesn’t care and has nothing to lose.”
He was right. Luella had already shot her sister. She’d killed at least fifteen other people. She didn’t care.
You can’t reason with someone who doesn’t care.
“Take her,” I said to Andrews and Jefferies. “No negotiation. She’s already shooting at us. Toss a flash bang and get her attention then storm that house. Or get a sniper into position and remove her from the equation.”
Jefferies smiled. “You want to call this?” He pretended to take his throat mic off and hand it to me.
“No, you’re the SWAT man – go do your thing.”
“When are you going to apply for SWAT?”
I smiled back. “How about never?”
Mac’s voice filled my head. He was so clear and loud I thought for sure everyone could hear him. “Never say never, Ellie.”
He was right. Never was a very long time. Nothing is impossible and anything can happen.
Jefferies spoke to his team and ordered his snipers into position.
“You can shoot as good as any of my snipers,” he said.
“Yeah, but that’s just me having fun.”
Sometimes when there wasn’t much happening, I enjoyed going out to Quantico and playing sniper with Jefferies’ SWAT team.
“Chicken?”
I laughed at him. “Go do what you do and don’t get dead.”
Andrews and Jefferies left the house.
I sat on the floor with Sam. Lee had moved out to the hallway. His trapdoor seemed less of a breach risk than ours. Lee sat at the end of the hall. He’d pulled shut the door to another bedroom. The hallway was the safest place to be with the doors shut.
Kurt spoke to us every now and then over the radio. He was alone in the garage counting body parts. I was so grateful it wasn’t me trapped in there.
My phone rang; I pulled it from my pocket and saw the display. Carla.
“Hey, kiddo. You all right?”
“Watching the news. I can see your car.”
All black SUVs look the same.
“Really? My car? Imagine that.”
“Mom!” Exasperation resounded in her voice. “Why are there SWAT guys by your car?”
“Trying to get the person we’re after. It’s okay. We’re inside another house. Quite safe.”
She sighed. “Grandpa said you’d be okay.”
“He was right.”
“Will you be home soon?”
“Soon.”
She hung up. Today Carla seemed older than fourteen. No squealing. No shrieking. No giggling. It occurred to me that I was responsible for taking the fun out of her day. I felt like shit.
Leaning back on the wall I listened to the noises coming from outside. Gunshots. Then voices. Then more gunshots. The shooter was still shooting. Why couldn’t Jefferies’ snipers get a clear shot and end this? My eyes drifted to the trapdoor. It’d be so easy. She’s busy shooting. She can’t be in two places at once. I shook my head hoping the thoughts would fall out. It’s not that I couldn’t do it; it’s that it would be very irresponsible of me to put me and my team in that sort of danger.
I hated sitting.
Waiting.
Listening.
Gunshots.
I picked up my radio. “Delta A go for Comms. What channel for SWAT Team Three? Over.”
“Comms go for Delta A. Team three are using secure channel. Over.”
“Patch me in. Over.”
“Yes, ma’am, understood. Over.”
I waited for a second and then we heard the chatter from SWAT come over my radio. I listened for a lull in the talk. “SWAT three. Go for Delta A. Over.”
“Delta A. Go for SWAT Three. Over.”
“You want help? Over.”
“What did you have in mind? Over.”
“Gimme a rifle.”
&nbs
p; “Done. Over.”
“Bring the rifle to the back of the house. I’m going up on the roof. Over.”
I beamed at Sam and Lee. “I’m heading out.”
They both gave me looks of horror. I silenced them with one of my own. It was different from the stinkeye my team received when they screwed up. This was ‘shut up, I know what I’m doing’, not ‘do it again and I’ll shoot you myself.’
I bounded out the back door. I could just see a green leg on the roof of the garage. There was a sniper up there. Sam appeared behind me. “You need a leg up?”
Andrews came around the corner in a hail of bullets.
“What is she shooting?” I asked.
“Something that has full auto. Could be an M16; she’s a shit shot but everyone gets lucky once in a while.”
“If that’s the case she got damn lucky when she took out her sister.”
I figured she was blind firing.
Andrews handed me a rifle with a sniper scope. “There’s no wind.”
“Good.”
I’m a crap shot in the wind. I smiled and looked down at the M40A3 I cradled in my arms.
“Suits you,” he said. “Keep a low profile. We don’t want her getting lucky again.”
“Ladder?” Sam asked glancing around.
“Don’t need one,” I replied. “Gimme a hand.”
He cupped his hands and bent down. I slung the rifle over my shoulder using the sling attached to it, and put one foot in Sam’s hands.
“Up you go,” he said standing up. I grabbed the guttering. It was just sturdy enough for me to use. I pulled myself up onto the roof and scurried away keeping my profile low. Creeping higher as I moved. At the peak I peered down. Perfect.
I lay down and adjusted the scope until I had a clear view. I could feel my heart beating as I concentrated on breathing. Slow, steady breathing. Calm thoughts. My angle was better than the garage roof. The shooter was sitting back in the room. Didn’t look as though she was aiming. She must have been closer to the window when she picked off her sister. I aimed at her head. When her head filled my scope, I whispered into the microphone.
“I have the shot.”
My order came back, “Fire when ready.”
I held my breath and squeezed the trigger. She fired another round before mine hit her. I watched through the scope and saw her jerk backwards, the gun falling to the floor.
I scanned the rooms I could see for any other signs of life. None.
“Target neutralized.”
The SWAT ground team moved in to clear the house. I was buzzing. The adrenaline rush was unbelievable. All the training I’d been doing over at Quantico had paid off.
I slid backward, dragging the rifle with me. I turned at the edge of the roof by the guttering and handed the rifle down to Sam. He gave it to Andrews.
“Move, I’m jumping,” I said.
They moved aside. I jumped and rolled onto the grass. Standing up I brushed myself off and rotated my shoulders. I had a burning question.
“Why was no one on the roof?” I asked Andrews.
“It was the best place for you,” he said.
“Come again?”
“Our men were on the garage, the roof next door, and the rooftops on either side. This roof was for you.”
“And you knew I was going to ask for a rifle?”
“Conway, we can read you like a book.”
Sam laughed. “They were taking bets to see if you’d go down the tunnel or just ask for a rifle.”
Andrews smiled. “Once upon a time she would’ve hit that tunnel.” He turned to me and extended his hand. “Now you’ve grown some and are less impatient. We’d have you in SWAT Three any day.” We shook hands.
“One day I might just ask.”
I hadn’t been working on my rifle skills just because it’s fun. Weekends spent in Quantico training were designed to increase my chances of survival in sticky situations and therefore increase my team’s chances of survival. I did devote more time to using assault weapons like the M16 and SG 550 than working on sniper skills with a M40A3, because breaching rooms and clearing buildings was way more fun than lying in one position for hours, waiting for the ultimate shot.
A girl has to have some fun. And with that Cyndi Lauper bounced into my mind singing her heart out, ‘Girls just want to have fun.’ There was no hiding the smile on my face. She was right. Girls do want to have fun.
I did my best not to sing along.
Thirty-Three
Destination Anywhere
It took most of the afternoon and all the next day to finish the mountain of paperwork associated with the four crazy cases we had worked. I didn’t consider the cold case to be one of the crazy four; that was a whole new level of insane and just didn’t fit anywhere, plus I was only signing off on the case file. No charges would be brought.
If it hadn’t been for the bank robbery it would’ve taken us a lot longer to end the killing spree of postal workers. The numbers on the boxes all came back as employee numbers. A dead woman had been traveling the eastern seaboard killing her colleagues. For someone who loved the service but hated the public, she sure had a funny way of showing it. We never did establish how much Marjorie knew, but it seemed feasible that she knew a lot, and maybe even helped her sister with the bodies. The sister, using her alternate identity as a man, had rented the house across the road a year before. The tunnel system and everything was carefully excavated well before her supposed death. The neighbors all loved the multitude of raised flower beds. Good use of the large amount of dirt he-she pulled out from under the houses.
After that messy case, and the sisters who were killing in Stonewall Jackson Hospital down in Lexington, I was glad I didn’t have a sister. I was equally glad to have my memory back and intact. Most of it. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, so for all I knew, I could have had it all back.
Mac’s voice popped into my head, “If you don’t miss anything, it wasn’t worth missing.”
“Maybe,” I whispered. “Maybe.”
“Maybe’s ass,” Mac said. It was so clear I could’ve sworn he was in the room.
I closed the last manila folder in front of me and added it to the pile ready to go to legal.
My cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number.
The minute I answered I knew the voice on the other end. NCIS Special Agent Adam Cohen.
“Conway, Agent Gerrard wanted us to fill you in.”
“Agent Cohen. How is he?”
“Recovering,” he said. “We found Fisher’s body in a dumpster.”
“Interesting.”
“Baltimore PD found him. He was the victim of a mugging that ended in murder.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Karma is a bitch.”
There was a smile on my face. Karma is indeed a bitch and a welcome one.
“Any word on the body of your missing lawyer?”
“No, nothing yet.”
Crap.
That meant they’d keep looking. I hoped Tierney could keep a lid on my involvement with Arbab in the light of ongoing NCIS investigation. I knew how persistent they were. What was I thinking? No one got past Tierney’s blocks, dead ends, and concocted cover stories.
“Good luck. How long before you’ll have the boss back on deck?”
“He’s out for a few months.”
“Take care, I’ll be in touch with Agent Gerrard at some stage.”
I hung up.
Outside my office FBI life carried on. Phones rang constantly. From under my desk I took a cardboard box, opened the top drawer in my desk, and removed personal items. My spare hand gun, spare holster, several packets of gum, photographs, notebooks, and some girly stuff. I put the box under my desk and headed off to Caine’s office.
He called me in after one knock.
I sat in the chair in front of his desk.
“Busy week,” he rumbled, spinning his laptop to show me the case logs.
�
��Yep.”
“Good work.” He leaned back in his chair, thoughtfulness rippling across his craggy face. “You thinking of leaving us for SWAT?”
No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop the smile.
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Absolutely. Why?”
He passed me a folder. “Have a look.”
I opened it and read the letter inside. Nice.
My head shook. I remembered the buzz I felt taking that shot. “Good to know Jeffries thinks I can do it.”
“You ready?”
Deep breath. “Yes.”
“You want me to be there?”
A smile spread. “No, they’ll think something bad has happened. Let me do it.”
We both stood. Caine walked me to the door; instead of shaking my hand he pulled me close and hugged me hard.
“I’ll see you Sunday night at Simon’s for dinner.”
I shut the door as I left.
Two minutes later I was in my own office again. I picked up the phone and called Lee.
“Hey, grab Kurt and Sam and come on in here.”
They all strolled through the door seconds after I hung up the phone.
I rocked back in my desk chair and looked at Kurt, Lee, and Sam. “Sit down.”
They pulled chairs closer to my desk and sat. “I’m taking some leave.”
“Leave?” Sam asked.
“Three months.”
“That’s quite a chunk,” he said, crossing his legs.
“I need it.”
“You’ll be back?” Lee didn’t disguise the moment of panic in his voice that sent sparks of confusion to his eyes.
I smiled. “Of course and I’m just a phone call away.” I took a breath. “We’re still a team.” Because we were a team they deserved an explanation. “Between terrorists, bank robbers, a serial killer, a hospital killer, a cold case, and memory loss, I need some breathing space.”
I need some mental health time.
“Meanwhile, we’ll keep the Delta A fire burning,” Kurt said. “Weekly dinners are still on.”
Lee nodded, “You and Carla will still be there, right?”
“Of course. I’ll even take my turn.”
I stood up and closed my laptop. I picked up the box from the floor and set it on my desk. They watched in silence while I put my laptop in the box.
“See you all on Sunday at Dad’s.”
