by Brad Taylor
“Your instinct. Really. Because they acted like friends.”
She rubbed her face, glanced out the window, then turned and looked me in the eye. “Because they’re lovers. That’s why they’re acting the way they are.”
If I’d been drinking a bottle of water I would have spewed it all over the car. Before I could say anything, she started talking in rapid sentences. “Pike, the woman wore a cross. She’s Catholic. Why would she have anything to do with a MILF terrorist attack? And they were intimate. I mean really close. I got that vibe as soon as I saw them together. They were acting secretive because there’s no way a Muslim woman could express something like that. She’d probably get her head cut off. Somehow those two found each other, and they’re worried about anyone else knowing.”
I said, “Did you see them kiss or something? Anything besides your gut?”
“No. I didn’t need to. The big secret here isn’t terrorism. It’s the wife wanting to stay in the closet.”
“So you have no proof?”
“Pike, I know. I don’t need a sex tape.”
I said nothing, considering her evidence. The biggest point in her favor was the cross the woman wore. That, and I’d learned to trust Jennifer’s instincts. She was rarely wrong, whether she was reading me or someone else. I don’t know how many times she’d seen through whatever subterfuge I’d tried to put up.
She said, “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter if I do. It’s whether Johnny will.”
• • •
Johnny looked at the products Jennifer provided and said, “Excellent. Better than excellent. Smart thinking on the credit cards. We’ll be able to run this to ground in no time.”
He looked at the photos of the woman with the cross Jennifer had pulled off the video and whistled, “Yeah, she’s a MILF all right. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a terrorist that hot.”
He started giving orders to the team, getting reach-back with the Taskforce intel analysts to run to ground who the supposed end guy was. Jennifer looked at me with a question. I just shrugged.
Johnny said, “It took you less than two days to get it done. You were slated for four, so why don’t you two take a couple to see the sights.” He waved a hand around his suite. “If I could, I’d give you a room here, but cover is a bitch.”
He smiled, clearly happy with the progression of the mission. I saw Jennifer’s expression and knew that wasn’t going to last.
She said, “Johnny, I have to tell you something else.”
“What?”
She looked at me, and I shrugged again, saying Go ahead with my expression.
“I think you’re on to the wrong scent. Yes, they were being secretive, but it’s not because of terrorism.”
He said, “Go on.” And she laid it out. I saw Johnny’s face go from incredulous to aggravated. Eventually, he rolled his eyes and held up his hand.
“Enough.”
He turned to his team and began issuing orders again. Jennifer said, “Why enough? I was the one on the inside. The ‘man on the ground’ you guys always talk about listening to, and I’m telling you it’s the wrong target. You go mucking around on this thread and you’re liable to burn the entire operation. Worst case, you waste so much time trying to find evidence that isn’t there that you miss the connection. Miss preventing a terrorist attack.”
I saw his face grow dark. “Jennifer, don’t tell me my fucking job. I didn’t pull you over here because of your woman’s intuition. I pulled you because you’re a split-tail, period. I’ve got plenty of operators here for advice. Operators that have actually hunted terrorists for a while.”
She looked like she’d been slapped. She turned without a word and left the room. I said, “Hey, that was a little harsh.”
He said, “Fuck harsh. She’s acting like she’s an operator. I get she has some technical skills, but she needs to learn her place, and it ain’t telling a team leader his job—or any other operator, for that matter.”
“So she’s good enough to carry your water but not worth listening to? You saw her execute in Indonesia. Saw her use her judgment to succeed. She’s just as smart as anyone in this room. Smarter on some things. Like this. What about the cross in the picture? Why would a Catholic be working with a Moro terrorist organization?”
“So she’s wearing a cross. So what. I’m not going to shift focus based on your chick’s gut instinct.”
That comment made me jerk to my feet. I raised my voice, causing the rest of the team to stop what they were doing. “You fuck, she’s not ‘my chick.’ She’s a damn team member, just like anyone else in this room, and her gut instinct has saved my life on more than one occasion.”
He realized he’d pushed a button he shouldn’t have and raised his hands. “Pike, I told you I wasn’t going to get into a pissing contest of who’s in charge. It’s my mission and my execution. I’m going to trust the operators on my team. You can trust the chick and we’ll see how that works out.”
I walked to the door before I did something I’d regret. I said, “Yeah, we’ll see how it works out. But it isn’t just a matter of ‘I told you so.’ You’d better hope this doesn’t end with a bunch of twisted metal and dead bodies because you chased the wrong target.”
I left before he could answer, regretting I’d said any of it. I knew the word would spread about the argument, and as incestuous as the Taskforce was, I’d be painted as having lost my focus because of Jennifer. All the other operators who hadn’t met her would now be suspicious of the whole endeavor, not only harming her ability to succeed, but possibly harming future operations.
Maybe you have lost focus. I shunted that thought to the side as soon as it entered my head. Jennifer was due the same respect as anyone else in the Taskforce.
I exited the hotel and saw her in the passenger seat of the car, watching me approach. I wasn’t sure what to say. She was already on the fence about staying in the organization, and this certainly wouldn’t help her attitude any, and I didn’t blame her. If it was me, I’d have told them to stick it up their ass and walked away.
I sat behind the wheel and said, “Hey, that was bullshit. Don’t take it personally. They just don’t trust you yet.”
As usual, I’d underestimated her tenacity. She said, “Pike, I want to have another go at the gym. Get them the proof.”
Wolverine with a rabbit.
“It won’t do any good. They won’t care. I’m assuming you were listening when he called you a split-tail.”
“I don’t give a shit about that. Well, I do, but this mission is more important. They can belittle me all day if it saves someone’s life. I want to penetrate the gym again.”
I said, “Seriously, after what they just did to you?”
“Yes.”
Those assholes upstairs could learn something from her.
I laughed and said, “Honey badger don’t care.”
“Huh? What’s that mean?”
“You know, that YouTube video about the honey badger that gets bitten by cobras and attacked by bees but keeps on going? The weirdo narrator says, ‘Honey badger don’t care,’ whenever something gets in the way of his goals.”
She just looked at me with a blank expression. Must be a guy thing.
“Never mind. We can’t go back to the gym. Johnny’s right about one thing: It is his mission. We can’t risk spooking them, even if you are correct.”
“I’m right, and I want show that to his team before it’s too late. Before they lose the thread that’s hiding somewhere else.”
“Jennifer, the only thing that’ll convince them is a lesbian porno starring the wife and the woman with the cross.”
“Yeah, I agree. That’s what I’m going to give them.”
Chapter 5
Jennifer placed the binoculars on the dashboard. Pike s
aid, “You still want to do it?”
“Yeah. The only tricky point will be getting from the stairwell to the women’s locker room. There was no guard at the front desk in the daytime. Just the folks checking people in and out.”
Pike said, “Okay, but remember, there’s a fine line between hero and zero. You get caught in there and it won’t screw up the mission, but it sure as hell will destroy your reputation.”
Jennifer smiled, “You mean your reputation.”
“Yeah, that too.”
She said, “What do you think?”
“I think I’d like to stick the tape you get up Johnny’s ass. But I’m not going in.”
“Pike, we talked about this. You can’t scale the climbing wall with your leg and—”
He cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it any easier to sit here.”
She smiled and punched his shoulder. “But if I get caught, I don’t want any excuses about your leg keeping you from helping me out.”
“Now we’re just wasting time. You ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s roll. I’ll open the door once we’re past that streetlight. You planning to circle back here?”
He reached up and disabled the overhead light, then put the car in drive and entered the street that circled around the gym. He said, “Yep. I’ll keep an eye on Barney Fife. Holler when you want me to call the gym.”
They passed under the light and she felt the adrenaline begin to flow. The drop-off was on a two-way road paralleling the side of the building, forcing a rolling insertion to prevent suspicion from anyone who was watching the car. Thirty meters beyond and Pike said, “Go.”
She opened the door without a word and slid out of the car, rolling into the ditch beside the road. She watched the taillights disappear, then scuttled across. She waited a beat, then sprinted across the parking lot of the gym, away from the circles of light pockmarking it. She reached the climbing wall and paused, staring up but unable to see where it ended because of the darkness.
During her orientation on the first day, she’d been shown how to use the wall and had scampered up it like a lizard on brick, enjoying the freedom of the climb. She’d reached the top, then had rappelled back down with ease to find her gym guide openmouthed. He’d said, “I thought you were a beginner.”
She’d silently wanted to kick herself for giving up her skill. “Well, I’ve done it before. This one isn’t as hard as the one I used in the States.”
He’d said, “You took the hardest lane.”
She’d just shrugged and they had continued on, exploring the rest of the facility.
When she’d come up with her idea of getting proof, it had hinged on what she’d seen at the top of that climb, where the roof met the climbing wall. Pike had initially balked, thinking she meant she wanted to simply repeat the previous mission in the hopes of getting proof. She’d convinced him that she needed to emplace a camera and couldn’t do that in the daytime with all the members about. She could retrieve it during the day, but installation always took much longer than removal. The final straw in her favor was the fact that she’d be de-linking this mission from the one Johnny was on. If she were caught inside at night, it wouldn’t point to the wife.
Now, staring up the wall, she wondered if this was the right call. A part of her knew it was a little bit of pride driving her forward. Wanting to prove to the chauvinist assholes that she was right. A bigger part truly believed she was possibly preventing a terrorist attack by redirecting Johnny’s team.
Before she thought about changing her mind, she grasped the first plastic rock jutting from the wall and pulled up. Seconds later, she was scaling rapidly. Not as fast as she had in the daytime, but still fast enough to look like she was being hoisted by a rope, never stopping for more than a split second to find another hold. She reached the roof and flipped over the parapet. She waited a beat, listening. She keyed her Bluetooth and said, “I’m up. Any movement?”
Pike answered, “Nope. Barney’s sitting still watching TV.”
“Roger. Moving to the door.”
She checked the frame for alarm leads, finding none. She spent three minutes with a headlamp and a pick gun to break the lock. She said, “Opening the door.” When Pike acknowledged, she eased it a crack and waited.
“No movement,” Pike said.
“Going inside.”
Pike said, “Be careful. No stupid stuff.”
She snicked the door closed and said, “That’s your department.”
She eased down the stairs, her headlamp on its lowest setting. She reached the bottom landing, turned off her light, and cracked open the door, seeing the juice bar just at the corner of her vision. Guard is to the right.
She closed the door and keyed her Bluetooth. “Pike, I’m set. Give him a call.”
“Roger.”
She heard the phone ring. And ring and ring and ring. Pike came on. “It went to voice mail. He didn’t take the bait.”
Damn it. She’d wanted him focused on the phone while she went behind his back.
“Is he still watching TV?”
“Yeah, but believe it or not, I think he was asleep before I called. He just stood up and changed the channel.”
Great.
“Okay, I’m going to work my way down. Tell me if he gets up.”
“Give it about five minutes. Get him complacent again.”
“Roger.”
She waited, running through her head what she could do. How she would react, analyzing the floor plan in her mind, developing contingencies before they happened. She saw seven minutes had passed and called Pike. “I’m moving.”
“Good to go. His head is leaning forward.”
She opened the door and slithered through, keeping to the wall. She saw the treadmills ahead and focused on the mirrors. Moving at a crouch, she finally saw him. Or more precisely, she heard the television and saw the back of his head. She had one brief moment inside the emergency lighting, then was back in darkness. She went through the free-weight room, passed the acrobatics room to the right, and paused at the hallway to the men’s locker room. There was a light in the space that separated her from the woman’s side. She glanced back at the front desk, saw a black head of hair doing nothing, and sprinted across. She went down the hall and entered the female locker room.
She went straight to the sauna, now cold in the night. Using her headlamp, she spent thirty minutes installing the camera. It was battery operated and controlled via a wireless remote. The problem was that she needed the receiver near the door. It would do no good to have the thing fail to function when it was needed.
She positioned the pinhole camera in the corner near the ceiling, then checked the feed on the receiver. It would capture almost everything in the sauna, unless the women sat underneath the camera itself. Since it was near the steam-producing stove, she didn’t think that would happen.
She fed the line through the redwood planks and affixed the receiver under the bench as close to the door as she could, the device itself encased in a Ziploc bag to protect it from the steam.
Satisfied, she left the sauna, telling Pike, “Coming out.”
He acknowledged, and she went slowly back down the hallway. She reached the end, then scuttled through the lit area to the men’s side. She was about to retrace her steps to the stairs when Pike came on. “Guard’s up. Moving to the rear. Probably using the bathroom. Stay in the women’s locker room.”
Shit.
“I’m already across. I can’t cross back without him seeing.”
“Hold what you got, then. Let him get in the bathroom. It works out perfectly.”
“Pike, I’m in front of the men’s room.”
She heard intensity in his voice for the first time. “Get out of sight. Now.”
“I’ve got nowhere to go.”
She whippe
d her head left and right, backing up and hitting a cork bulletin board with various announcements tacked to it. One was a schedule for American boxing classes, complete with a miniature set of gloves hanging from it. She jerked them off the board and returned to the entrance of the hallway. When she saw a shadow, she tossed them lightly into the free-weight area.
The guard reacted, pausing, then pulling out his flashlight. When he moved forward, bathing the area in light, she turned the corner and ran, tucking into the acrobatics room.
She knelt down and began breathing with an open mouth, straining her ears. She saw the light bounce her way.
Shit. He heard me.
She backed up into the acrobatics room, and the light got steadily brighter, herding her like cattle. She entered the room, knowing there was nothing in here to hide her. A plain square area with mats, bars, and rings. She frantically searched for something. Anything. And saw the ropes. One-inch hemp, they went up into the darkness of the room, two stories high.
She saw the light enter the hallway and leaped up, grabbing the rope. She climbed as fast as she could, the rope dangling and whipping below her. She reached the ceiling just as he entered the area, shining the flashlight left and right. She froze, seeing the rope twitching below her.
The light splayed across it but didn’t stop. By the time it came back, the rope had ceased moving. She didn’t have time to anchor herself with her legs and didn’t dare reseat them now, knowing it would make the rope flick like a horse’s tail swatting a fly. She began to slide.
She clamped her hands into the hemp, the sweat causing her grip to fail. All it would take was one wrap of her leg, and she could stay up all night long. But that movement might bring the light up into the rafters, highlighting her. She waited, the sweat rolling down her face and her hands losing inches down the rope. Losing the ability to hold on.
The man swept the room one more time and turned to leave. She felt her grip peel in slow motion, and electricity fired through her body as she began to fall backward. She wrapped her arm around the rope, feeling the hemp tear her skin as she slid down. She locked in her legs, seeing the open line twitching like a cat’s tail five feet behind the man’s back. She held her breath.
