“I want assessments of how long they can conceivably survive if this becomes a drawn-out incident,” McKenzie said. “What water sources do they have? Can we utilize them?”
Novak shrugged. “We might be able to add a sedative to the water but as people don’t generally all drink at the same time, it is an unreliable method. Plus with small children inside I would not recommend it.”
McKenzie nodded as if satisfied. Had that question been a test? Charlotte suspected it might have been. He looked at her. “No communications from anyone inside?”
She shook her head. “It’s not unexpected in this kind of situation for people to stick their head in the sand and pretend nothing has changed and the federal government is not parked on their doorstep. It’s why I believe that the less obvious we are, the more likely they are to emerge from the building before spring.”
Faces fell at that. No one wanted to be here for months.
“Are you suggesting we pull back completely?” McKenzie asked.
“Right now, the threat to life seems low. So, yes, or we at least appear to pull back.”
There was a murmur of disagreement from the HRT guys. Novak stayed silent, which she appreciated, but she could feel him watching her. Judging her.
But it was her turn and, despite her negotiator specialty, she wasn’t here to make friends. “We pull back visibly. We investigate the death of the woman, determine if it was a homicide, and watch the compound. Wait for TJ to start venturing out again and then detain him in a location least likely to put anyone else in danger, especially the children. Hopefully, he will be alone. We can start questioning him and others and figure out who fired those shots. Then we arrest them.”
McKenzie’s lips firmed.
A muscle ticked in Novak’s jaw.
“Or we could devote months laying siege, spend millions of taxpayers’ dollars simply to prove our strength. We aren’t going to blast our way inside when there are babies at risk, and they know it. We cannot afford to be seen as the bad guys here. It would destroy the public’s trust in the FBI, once and for all.”
“We can’t afford for every militia in the country to think we are afraid to confront them if they hide behind women and children,” Novak stated calmly, but Charlotte could hear the edge in his voice.
None of the options were good.
“You’re both right,” McKenzie announced. “This is a shitty operation at a shitty time of year. Unfortunately, we don’t get to pick what we work on or when. The director is watching this closely and so are most of the world’s media, which in turn means so is every domestic and foreign terrorist who has even thought about taking us on. I want this whole incident de-escalated, but I don’t want every antigovernment yahoo or terrorist wannabe thinking the FBI is too scared of the consequences to act decisively. We are not.”
Charlotte pressed her lips tight together, so she didn’t interrupt and get herself thrown off the job. She liked that McKenzie listened to more than one opinion, she just wanted him to support hers.
“We’re here for now. Let’s not incite anyone further. No one talks to the media except through me or the public relations officer who is currently at the hospital but will be here later today. This whole area is a tinderbox of conflict, and we don’t want to ignite that fuse.”
With more personnel arriving every minute, Charlotte wasn’t sure how the FBI could be seen as doing anything except escalating the situation.
“I also want lockdown on information coming out of this ranch. The owners have agreed to confidentiality.”
“You trust them?” Novak crossed his arms over his chest. A sprinkling of golden hair was visible on his forearms.
“The owners are leaving the area and seem to have no great love of the locals. Plus, they’re making bank, and I doubt they want to risk losing the fatted calf or getting arrested. HQ will monitor them,” McKenzie said. “In future, let’s keep the number of operatives visible on ranch property during daylight hours down to four or five max. We’ll arrange food to be brought over to the barn from the main house during the day.” He looked over at all the black-clad operators. “The media is hunting for our accommodations, and the locals will have figured it out already. I don’t want images of this building on TV or the internet, and I don’t want us to be vulnerable to attack.” McKenzie looked grim. “The number of domestic terrorist and antigovernment groups who would like to take a potshot at us keeps growing and so does their armory. We consider them a bigger threat than anything coming out of the Middle East right now. I don’t want anyone dropping their guard.”
Everyone sat up with that pronouncement. They needed to remember they didn’t work in a vacuum, and they were vulnerable too.
“Has there been chatter somewhere about an attack?” Novak asked.
McKenzie pulled at his bottom lip. “Only what’s to be expected. But I know how these people think, and this situation is an opportunity for them from several different angles.”
Charlotte spoke up quickly while she had the chance. “If we’re going with the status quo in the short term, and as Harrison and his buddies aren’t yet talking to us, and we’ll shortly have seven top negotiators here, I’d like permission to go speak to the people in the protest camp. See if they can help us discover the identity of the dead woman, or if they have interacted with the people in the compound.”
Truman spoke up. “Sheriff’s deputies were going to interview them this morning.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “I thought we were doing it?”
“Didn’t have the manpower,” McKenzie admitted.
“Even more reason for me to go,” Charlotte pushed.
“You can’t go because I can’t go,” Novak argued.
They both stared at McKenzie, each trying to use ESP to make him do what they wanted, which was to go their separate ways. The guy shook his head.
“Nice try. You two are stuck with each other until I say so.” McKenzie stared at her thoughtfully. “Go talk to the people in the camp.”
Charlotte knew not to betray any feelings of victory on her face and dared not look at Novak.
McKenzie continued. “We need an ID on the dead woman. I also want to know who reported the cougar incident that got Bob Jones up there. US Fish and Wildlife have no record of a call, and we hope to gain access to Jones’s phone records with his permission. It has to be someone who lives or spent time in that area. There’s a good chance it’s someone from the camp.”
“Maybe the young woman died of natural causes, but the kid found her and ran when confronted,” Novak suggested.
McKenzie nodded. “Then, aside from shooting the two law enforcement officials”—which carried major prison time if they could figure out who to charge—“there are lesser offenses to answer for, which is something we could relay to the people in the bunker via the media. Assuming they have some sort of cable service?”
“They’re hooked up to satellite TV. Not paying for the service but definitely hooked up.”
“Do we want to block that?” Novak asked.
“Not yet,” McKenzie said thoughtfully. “I’ve run some options through the BAU to see what the profilers can come up with. Let’s see if we can manipulate them into thinking it’s safe to come out.”
It was a good idea. Charlotte expected someone from BAU to turn up any moment and start working on a strategy, but maybe they were doing it from Quantico.
The meeting broke up, and everyone got to work on the jobs they’d been assigned.
She glanced at Novak, noticing the pale blond stubble on his cheeks and the way the dawn rays slanted over his hair. He seemed to feel her gaze and shot her a glance that told her he wasn’t happy with events but recognized he didn’t have a choice.
“You and Novak okay?” Max asked quietly from behind.
She loved his British accent. They used it on female hostage takers every opportunity they got. “He’s a lot more bark than bite.”
Max grunted. “If he bark
s too much, let me know.”
Charlotte smiled slightly. “I can handle him.”
“I have no doubt.” Max raised a brow. “One potential problem we might have though is McKenzie. His crew has taken over one part of the canteen, and if Harrison’s group start talking to us, you’ll need to kick them out.”
Great.
“Something tells me these people don’t want to negotiate though.” His dark eyes held hers.
Charlotte agreed. “Not yet anyway. They hope we’re going to go away.”
It was wishful thinking. The FBI didn’t forgive and forget. They might bide their time though. It was an improvement on the old, more bullish ways, but in the end, the Bureau always got its man.
Chapter Ten
Novak drove one of HRT’s specially outfitted Chevy Suburbans. Thankfully, his hands were too occupied to strangle his fellow SSA. It helped that Charlotte sat beside him wearing a wooly hat with a freaking furry bobble and looking so cute it was hard to believe she was a hard-as-nails Federal Agent. He bet she used that a lot. That deceptive gentleness. That old too-sweet-to-be-dangerous nonsense.
She had balls of steel, challenging him in front of everyone, challenging their boss. Going out on a limb and doing some investigating of her own? Dragging his highly skilled operational ass with her? Yeah, the innocent package masked a bulldog personality, and he better remember that next time they were fighting for the upper hand during this incident.
Although, this was as good a time as any to go asking questions they desperately needed answers to. They were in a waiting game, and until they built a mockup of the fortress where they could practice tactical entries, he had little to do but supervise his guys and wait for information to pour back in. Angeletti was more than capable of handling what needed to be done.
Let the people inside the compound live on edge for a few days before they became bored and sloppy. Let them grow complacent. HRT operators did not get bored or sloppy. They were not complacent. That’s why they trained constantly for these situations and the more information they had to prep, the better the potential for an outcome where no one was hurt—on their side anyway.
“It’s along here.” Charlotte pointed out as if he couldn’t see the row of cop cars and brightly colored tents in the background. “Looks like the sheriff beat us to it.”
Duh.
There were a hell of a lot of police cruisers around for conducting interviews. He pulled up at the end of the row, and he and Charlotte climbed out.
It was chaos. Civilians running and screaming, deputies chasing and tackling people to the ground, handcuffing them. Half the residents weren’t even dressed properly, suggesting this had been a dawn raid when people had still been in their sleeping bags.
“What the actual hell is going on? This is his idea of conducting interviews?” Charlotte swore under her breath, which was a first. They spotted the sheriff and headed in his direction.
Novak saw one deputy look at his fellow SSA like she was someone worth tackling but when he caught his eye, the cop seemed to belatedly notice the FBI badge Charlotte wore around her neck and her sidearm.
The deputy backed down, but Novak reinforced the idea with a scowl. At Charlotte’s insistence, he’d changed into less intimidating clothing. Jeans, t-shirt and a plaid over-shirt to “fit in.” He still wore his tactical boots and carried all his weapons. But he was not happy to be walking into the middle of this madness without a ballistics vest and backup.
Charlotte held up her creds as she approached the sheriff who was standing with his hands on his hips surveying the clearing. Three men lay on the ground in front of him, all wearing handcuffs.
“Supervisory Special Agents Blood and Novak.” Charlotte introduced them both. “What’s going on here, Sheriff Lasalle?”
The man straightened and narrowed his gaze at her gold shield. Then he spit out of the side of his mouth and looked up to meet Novak’s gaze over Charlotte’s head.
“Evicting trespassers.”
There were angry protests from the men who lay on the frozen grass. “We have a legal right to peacefully protest.” The sheriff gave the man a sharp nudge with his boot.
Novak grinned a little, waiting for Charlotte’s response to that. The sheriff mistook his expression for approval.
“Call off your men, Lasalle. The FBI are in charge of this incident and right now, you are impeding my ability to carry out my part of the investigation.”
The sheriff looked over her head and made no move to stop his men. Women were screaming.
Jesus.
Novak clenched and unclenched his fist.
Charlotte got into the sheriff’s eye line by rising on her tiptoes. “Call off your deputies. Otherwise, myself and my colleague here will start arresting people, beginning with you.” She flicked out her cuffs.
Charlotte might be someone who espoused peaceful resolutions, but she was no pushover. Novak felt a rush of lust. The woman was hot when she was pissed.
He pushed the feelings aside. They meant nothing. Animalistic reactions from a guy who, despite knowing better, liked confident and assertive women. And one of these days he’d get over being treated like he was worthless by two of them. Then again maybe not.
He got on his sat phone and told Angeletti to get some of the guys geared up and in the transport ASAP. He gave him his location. Closed the call.
When he refused to undermine Charlotte’s position, the sheriff finally met Charlotte’s gaze. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Her expression suggested otherwise.
“You called the FBI for assistance because you needed our help. I can’t tell you how to police your county, normally, but we’re here now and our remit covers all aspects of this incident, including questioning potential witnesses.”
“If these scumbags weren’t here causing trouble, none of this would have happened.”
“You’ve already questioned everyone?” Charlotte asked with fake politeness. “Point me in the direction as to which one of them caused the woman’s death yesterday? And please tell me who shot Federal Wildlife Officer Jones? And which one of these people shot and injured your deputy?” She didn’t raise her voice, but anyone looking at her body language would know she was incensed.
The sheriff chewed his mustache.
“Call off your men, Lasalle, or I swear to god I will cuff you and transport you to the nearest federal holding facility, and I will not be happy with wasting hours of my day on a man who should know better.”
Contempt washed over Lasalle’s features, and Novak shifted his stance.
“She isn’t bluffing,” Novak said quietly.
The sheriff’s upper lip curled. Then he barked an order to a uniform who stood nearby watching them with huge eyes. “Call everyone back, Deputy. Let the Feds figure it out on their own from now on.”
“Deputies are to return to their cars. Release your prisoners. The Feds are taking over.”
Novak winced as that announcement was made over the car’s loudspeaker. No way was he spending all day talking to freaking hippies. He scanned the surroundings and saw several heads swivel nervously toward them.
Great.
“I assume that means you won’t be needing my deputies for any other things regarding this situation.” The sheriff gave Charlotte an arrogant smile that suggested he held all the cards. “I’ll make it clear to the State Attorney that before they even ask for my assistance again, I’ll require a very personal apology from you, young lady.” The sheriff looked down his nose at Charlotte. The implication was both sexual and misogynistic. It made Novak want to step in and handle the arrogant fucker. Then he remembered Charlotte was a Supervisory Special Agent in the FBI who knew how to play high stakes poker. She could hold her own.
Charlotte nodded. “The State Police can take over anything you are unable to handle, Sheriff. We would not want to put undue stress on a department that is already reeling following the injury of a deputy. We totally understand. Very few s
heriff’s offices have the capacity or ability required to cope with this sort of crisis—”
Local and State police often vied for power.
Lasalle blustered, “I never said we couldn’t cope. I don’t want the State Troopers all over my county.”
“So you can handle it?” Charlotte asked brightly. “All the roadblocks and patrols already agreed upon, because all the State Police require is a phone call, and they promised to send as many people as we request—”
The sheriff’s mustache twitched. “We’ll deal with it. You deal with these nuisances. I want them out of here.” He cast a look around like he wasn’t even seeing real people. Then he raised his voice to his men who’d gathered around to listen. “Let’s go.”
Novak radioed Angeletti and told him to turn around, crisis averted.
“Want me to ask him if they can send a few plain clothes agents to help conduct interviews?” he asked his fellow SSA.
She shook her head, watching the sheriff’s office cruisers speed by one after another. “Let’s ask around first. See what we find out.”
The sheriff glared at them as he drove past. Novak was pretty sure he was giving them the bird out of sight.
Novak turned back to face the rag-tag army of tree-huggers.
Charlotte went over and helped a woman onto her feet. Then she moved on, to another, and another. She knelt beside a young man who was crying, wrapped her arm around his shoulders.
Novak huffed out a small frustrated breath. As much as he wanted to get back to his team, he also knew there would be no rushing this. Charlotte was doing what Special Forces often did abroad. You got more results from winning hearts and minds of local people than by running roughshod over their homes and lives.
He stuck his hand out to one of the gentlemen who was sitting on the ground in front of him.
The man eyed him suspiciously before taking it. Novak hauled him to his feet and helped him stand. “Is this some elaborate ‘good cop bad cop’ routine because I’m ready to confess all.”
Cold Wicked Lies: A gripping romantic thriller that will have you hooked (Cold Justice - Crossfire Book 3) Page 9
