by Thomas Craig
Lauren knew it was as important to learn from others as it was to trust her training, but she was uncomfortable with that approach.
“It feels deceitful to get the information from him first, then tell him his father was just killed. He will see us as cold or callous,” she replied.
“I have a plan to address that, trust. Also, we need to be extra sensitive to the environment. If someone was bold enough to kill two people on a military base, it is not absurd to think a hit could take place in a police station.” Holliday hoped his words would focus Lauren more on the situation and less on Charlie’s feelings.
As they pulled into the station and started to make their way up the stairs to the front entrance, Lauren felt uneasy about what Holliday had just shared with her. She had her hand resting on her sidearm as they entered. Holliday looked like he owned the place with his head high, chest out and arms swinging with his strut.
As they stepped up to the front desk, the Sergeant pointed in the direction they needed to go, but Lauren was too busy looking over a nearby janitor that seemed to have nothing to do but look at her.
“Are we good Q?” Holliday asked as he started walking.
“Q? You know my last name is O’Quinn,” Lauren said as she walked behind Holliday, keeping an eye on the janitor and now a civilian who sat on a bench in the hallway.
“Yeah, I know, but Q seems more direct and demands attention, unlike the letter ‘O’. Plus, I’m a Star Trek fan,” Holliday explained as he took his hat off and held it in his left hand.
The reference was not lost on Lauren, and she took it as a compliment. She smiled and then noticed that Holliday’s gun was no longer in his holster as he extended his empty right hand to the approaching detective. It had to be under his hat in his left hand. This guy is smooth, she thought to herself as the detective reached out for her hand now. They were taken to a room where Charlie Houghton sat nervously with two police officers.
When Lauren walked in, Charlie’s whole demeanor changed as he did a double-take, then focused on her. She was a smart dresser, with tailored clothes that were not restrictive, but outlined her athletic figure. Charlie pegged her for a few years older than him. He took special notice of the braided hair above her ears that lead to her ponytail.
In the three seconds it took for her to walk to him, he convinced himself she looked at him and smiled, more with her eyes than with her lips. He could not help but admire how beautiful she was. He started to smile as Lauren walked right up to him and introduced herself.
Lauren noticed Charlie looking her over as she approached to introduce herself, so when he smiled at her, she gave him a friendly smile back to calm his nerves. Holliday noticed the interplay and decided to hang back in the corner and let Lauren run the interview.
“Hi, Charlie. May I call you Charlie? I’m Special Agent Lauren O’Quinn and this is US Marshal Tom Holliday,” Lauren pointed over to Holliday and simultaneously gave Holliday a quirky smile after noticing just how far away he was.
“Yes, of course. Charlie is fine. Nice to meet you both,” Charlie replied to Lauren, without even looking over at Holliday.
After making a little small talk with Charlie, Lauren spent some time reviewing the sequence of events that brought Charlie here today. She noticed an air card in the side of his laptop, which meant it could have kept its connection. Then she proceeded to take out a thumb drive and plug it into Charlie’s laptop that lay on the table between them. She started to type on it.
“Hey, you need my password to get in?” Charlie asked.
“Oh, that’s okay. This has counter encryption coding that allows me to bypass simple security features. It also will install a vulnerability exploitation program to run simultaneously on your PC, the Internet, and Darknet, to find the sender of the email before the PC or any other virus already attached to the PC recognizes my activity,” Lauren replied.
“Cool. It looks like the FBI is given the best gadgets,” Charlie stated as he observed Lauren at work.
“Right?” Lauren said with a smile and agreement.
Holliday just smirked and hid his laugh with a cough. He had only known Lauren for a couple of weeks but had already heard some of the FBI Cyberteam in Atlanta gushing over Lauren’s software and coding skills. The program she had written made normal “hard encryption” as easy to bypass as a few keystrokes.
Holliday found it refreshing and amusing how she modestly hacked this computer in seconds with her homegrown program without making it seem like the big deal it truly was or feeling the need to tell Charlie she was the architect.
If her tactics were to make Charlie feel relaxed, it was working. She moved her chair next to his and pointed out a few basic things the program was doing on the screen of his laptop. Charlie seemed perfectly content to have her next to him.
“Has this been connected to the internet ever since you received the email?” Lauren asked.
“Yes, it has.”
Lauren sat with Charlie for a few more minutes watching the screen dance with data. Then she gave Holliday the look and smile that he was hoping to get. She confirmed that her program reached the source of the email. She now had an IP address of the OMS. Now Lauren needed to take the laptop back to an FBI HQ for further analysis and to use her supercomputers to learn more about the geographic origin of the IP address, what sites and information it visited, people it communicated with, to help her identify anyone in the OMS.
Holliday also knew that the time had come to give Charlie the bad news about his father. Holliday had done a lifetime of notices and felt like Lauren should be the one to break the news. He stepped forward and whispered in her ear to check her phone in a minute and then stepped out of the room.
Lauren’s phone rang about a minute later. She answered only to find Holliday’s voice telling her to break the news to Charlie. “Don’t beat around the bush, just tell him like he was your best friend.”
Lauren’s chest got heavy as Holliday hung up. Charlie could see the color disappear from her face and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Charlie, I’m afraid there was a shooting at Cherry Point. Your father and a Military Policeman were shot and killed. I’m so sorry,” Lauren almost choked on the words as they came out.
Charlie stood slowly and just stared at her. Then his eyes changed from confused to grief-stricken and the tears started building up.
“No. No!” He half mumbled.
Lauren had to fight back her tears as she consoled Charlie. After a few minutes, she stepped out of the room, computer in hand, and was happy to find Holliday standing there waiting with hat in hand.
“Are you both going to be okay?” Holliday asked.
“That was horrible,” Lauren said as she exhaled and tried relaxing her shoulders. “Is your gun under your hat?” She asked, trying to change the subject.
“Yes. Pay attention to the three guys arguing at the front desk about their work truck being towed. It could be a diversion,” Holliday pointed out as he went back in and gathered Charlie. He thought it best to bring him to Atlanta and start the process for a possible witness protection program, a current safehouse and protective detail may be in order until more developed in the case.
With Charlie distraught by Holliday’s side, they all started walking towards the exit.
Lauren followed Holliday and Charlie out to the front parking lot and headed toward their car. Her eyes darting back and forth, constantly scanning the area for threats as they moved forward. Thankfully, they reached the car without incident and were on their way. Lauren called Arya and caught her up on the success she had on Charlie’s laptop.
“What’s our next move, Arya? We finally have an important piece of the puzzle,” Lauren asked over the phone. She was eager to dive deep into the potential clues her program could produce but needed her network in Atlanta.
“Well, we hope to find our suspect here soon, but you know how these manhunts can go. We could use Holliday’s experience with that, so
come back to the base ASAP,” Arya advised Lauren.
“Will do. What about the potential victim in Raleigh, Mr. Gaffney?” Lauren asked Arya, while also telling Holliday what was happening at Cherry Point.
“FBI agents are with him and we can liaise through them for any information. I’m sure he must have some ideas on why he is on someone’s hit list,” Arya said before pausing and then adding, “Be careful on your way here Lauren.”
“Have you, uh, seen anything we should be aware of?” Lauren trod lightly on the words she used, but Arya knew what she was alluding to.
“No, nothing. It’s just this OMS has no boundaries. I mean, they had two people killed in the middle of the Military Police HQ.” Arya was frustrated and worried about what will emerge from the shadows next and when.
Lauren ended her call with Arya and turned her attention to Charlie.
“Hey, you see that vest on the seat next to you? That’s for you to put on. Let’s not take any chances.” She hoped it would not be needed, but it was better to be vigilant. Charlie fumbled around with the Kevlar vest for a few minutes but managed to complete the task.
Holliday made good time in the borrowed government vehicle. Just over an hour later, they emerged from the Neuse Forest northwest of Havelock. They were only a few minutes away from turning off Highway 70 onto Slocum drive, to the west gate into Marine Corp Air Station (MCAS) Cherry Point North Carolina.
Lauren was back on the phone with Arya getting an update on the manhunt. They found Justin’s abandoned car about 40 minutes ago by the Cherry Point Inn, which formerly served as the BOQ’s many years ago. As soon as they ordered the search team to the area, Justin Mercer popped up a few streets over in a retired Brigadier General’s backyard.
Lauren was in midsentence with Arya when the conversation was interrupted by a sequence of loud metallic thumps on her passenger door.
TINK, TINK, TINK, TINK, TINK, TINK!
She heard the window break just behind her right ear. Simultaneously all the air in her lungs left instantly in a split second. She was wincing in pain as every muscle from her hip to her jaw was tightening with relentless force. But it was her lungs she was most worried about, as they were squeezed down to the size of two peas and unwilling or able to let any air in. She felt a hand thrust her head down towards her knees, which made the pain worse and allowed no chance for air to return to her lungs.
“Shots fired!” Holliday yelled.
Lauren turned her head slightly to see Holliday’s hand leave her and return to the wheel. The engine was whining in response to the accelerator being jammed to the floor. She started to sit back up just in time to see their car smashing into another car and the passenger side airbag deployed into her face.
Lauren could feel her grip on consciousness slipping away. A split second after the airbag exploded into her nose and eyes, darkness started to quickly consume her vision. Her lungs felt like they were pushing a million hot needles through her chest, in hopes to pierce her skin to let air in.
Perhaps it was the facial trauma that distracted her diaphragm, but a few seconds later it released the choking grip on her chest and lungs, and she was taking in what seemed to be the biggest and longest breath of her life. She would not let it be ruined by the thick smell and taste of the gunpowder from the airbags exploding.
As her vision came back, she realized Holliday had released her seatbelt and was climbing over her opening her door. Holliday fell out of the car, pulling Lauren to the ground with him.
She could hear rounds from a fully automatic rifle ripping into the driver's side of the car. Lauren was laying on top of Holliday when she felt a bullet tug at her vest. It must have come clean through the door. She rolled off Holliday and kicked the passenger door closed to provide more shielding. That is when she noticed all the bullet holes on her door and the door behind hers.
Holliday was already firing back over the hood when Lauren pulled her gun and started looking for a target.
She shook her head to free her sight of the dancing black dots scattered in front of her. The pain from her side was still overwhelming her, but she knew she needed to push past it, for now, to avoid being shot. Being shot! She couldn’t help it, she started to quickly feel her right side for a bullet wound. Her left hand came back wet and crimson colored.
As she took in the scene, she kept thinking how insane this was. The highway was at a standstill as cars just stopped and people watched the horror unfold from within their vehicles. She peeked over the window and saw that Charlie was lying in the backseat with a hole in his neck, lifeless.
“Lauren! Listen to me! Shoot anything running towards you!” Holliday shouted at her as he reloaded.
Lauren started to raise her gun over the trunk only to be met by a policeman running at her with his sub-machinegun pointed her way. This is the first time she ever saw a Policeman holding an Uzi. Without hesitation, she squeezed the trigger twice on her 9mm Glock.
POP! POP!
The first bullet may have missed her target, but the second entered the man’s chest an inch below his neckline causing him to crumble on the street mere feet from the rear of the car. Unsure if she just killed a police officer or a criminal, she started to have second thoughts about what Holliday just told her to do.
PHTHHHH!
What could only be a bullet whistled by her head and caused Lauren to drop for cover again. The trunk of the car was now being heavily riddled with bullets. She started to scream out of fear, but it was interrupted by the opposite side rear tire exploding and the car jolting.
Lauren was crouched behind the other rear tire when a bullet traveling underneath the car took the heel clean off her shoe causing her leg to twist awkwardly, sending her firmly onto her rear.
As she tried to regain her position, she could see that the few seconds were about to cost her dearly. Another assailant had already rounded the car with his gun pointed at her. She saw the muzzle flash at the same time the spray of hot lead sent her backward into the pavement.
Neatly sliced banana, granola, yogurt, and orange juice. Lauren’s breakfast flashed before her as if she were starting the day over. Then that feeling returned. The one where every muscle tensed, and she could not breathe. She was sure she was dying. No such luck on starting the day over.
As Lauren lay there gasping for air, waiting for more bullets to punch the last remaining life from her, she saw her executioner explode into a red mist.
The gunfire became heavy sounding, like the quick deep thumping of a drum, and very intense for about 20 seconds. She still had not taken a breath and those damn red-hot needles had returned in her chest. Lauren could feel the tears running from her eyes to her ears as she lay on her back on the asphalt in excruciating pain.
Holliday’s face came into view and she started to grasp at everything, anything, just to get some air.
“Relax Lauren! Relax. You got the wind knocked out of you. Trust me. You are okay,” he said with a reassuring smile. Holliday waved someone over to her and pointed to her arm as he holstered his sidearm and started to remove her vest.
She could feel his hands quickly sliding over her chest, ribs, sides, and then her back, gently rubbing the areas. His face was all business, his smile had left as he removed her bulletproof vest.
Someone else’s hands were lifting her hips by pulling her up from the front waistband of her slacks. It did not feel good. She would have swatted their hands away had it not been for a third person holding her left arm down, wrapping it with something.
Lauren started to take in a depth breath, but the pain in her chest made her wince and cut off the effort. This repeated several times before she got a full breath, and then the mystery hands set her waist down and left her.
Three soldiers were standing around her now offering to help her up. Holliday was now getting the laptop off the floor of the car and examining it. He made a face that signified he was shocked to find it in one piece. As she stood with the help of the sold
iers, she took in the scene.
There was a traffic jam on I-70 for miles. Shell casings were strewn everywhere. Their car had a hundred holes in it and thick black smoke was leaking from the front hood. Three other cars were involved, and they were torn up from the Marines unleashing their assault rifles and a heavy machine gun mounted on one of the Humvees. One car was on fire. Six men lay dead on the highway, not counting poor Charlie Houghton in the back of their car. There were a few Humvees in the area now and the men that accompanied them took over the highway.
Three of the assaulters were dressed as police and the car on fire looked to be a police car, with the markings from the Greenville PD. It seemed like the West End Fire Department and EMS pulled up seconds before the Havelock Police. A Gunnery Sergeant stepped forward to give his account to the police while EMS ran from one body to the next. They tried to hold back the horrified looks as they approached the two bodies almost cut in half by the .50 caliber the Marine unleashed from atop the Humvee.
Holliday was again by Lauren’s side helping her towards the paramedics. A Marine stopped them for a second and bent down to place Lauren’s shoe back on her foot. She thought, it’s a fit, and laughed in her mind that she just had a Cinderella moment. The heel was missing, but it was still better than nothing. He didn’t even look at her for a ‘Thank you’ as he spun around and rejoined his squad getting orders from the Gunnery Sergeant.
Minutes later she was in the back of the ambulance with an IV in her right arm, Holliday sitting a few feet away on his phone. The medic was cutting away Lauren’s blouse and Holliday was trying not to look but couldn’t help himself. He had to see how bad the damage was.
“Jesus Lauren, I hope you feel better than you look,” he said and then turned away, continuing his conversation with Arya on his cell phone.
Lauren looked at the Medic, “What’s wrong? How bad is it?”
The Medic finished his examination. “You were shot 4 times. I can tell by the progressively severe bruising and abrasions,” he said as he pointed to each spot, “and the pattern of bullets in your vest your partner handed me to match your bruises.” He lifted the vest to show her the evidence.
