The Secret Target

by Dean Atwood

  QT looked along the street. He didn’t see a surveillance van, but he wasn’t about to dismiss her comments as being irrational. He’d ignored her morning warning and that hadn’t turned out very well. “I don’t see anything suspicious, but by all means, let’s go inside. It’s this way,” he said and pointed in the direction of his townhouse.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Of course, you do,” he responded and meant it.

  When they arrived at his unit, Quinton paused and looked at the top edge of the door before inserting his key in the lock.

  “It wouldn’t fool a professional,” Lieutenant Mad said.

  “What?”

  “The piece of scotch tape you stuck between the door and the jamb to alert you if somebody entered your townhouse while you were gone. A professional would remove it before they entered and replaced it when they left.”

  “That’s true, I wouldn’t know if someone had come and gone, but at least I’d know whether somebody was in there, waiting for me with a piece of tape in their pocket.”

  “You’re getting as paranoid as me.”

  He smiled and said, “Not yet.”

  Quinton flipped the switch to turn on the kitchen lights. The white cabinets, quartz countertops, and light gray backsplash gave the room an airy feel. There were no dirty dishes left out or any other signs of untidiness.

  “Are you or Blondie the neat freak?”

  “I suppose both of us to a certain extent.”

  The kitchen led to the living room, where QT switched on more lights. There were three inside doors visible from the living room. One led to a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, another to an office with a desk that had a laptop resting on it, and the third to a laundry room.

  “What’s upstairs?” the lieutenant asked.

  “Do you want a tour?”

  “No thanks, just curious what’s up there.”

  “The master bedroom and bathroom. There’s also a small room that we use for storage.”

  “You have a nice place. It’s uncluttered. I like that. You must be very comfortable living here.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “I didn’t picture Blondie as the domestic type.”

  Why do you call her Blondie? It sounds like you’re calling her a blonde bimbo. Her name is Blaire.”

  “Because we’ve never been formally introduced. I’ve seen her a few times at the downtown mall. She always looks at me with disdain, like an aristocrat looks at a cockroach.”

  “Really? Almost everyone who gets to know her thinks she’s down to earth. They consider her a friend.”

  “I prefer a few loyal friends to lots of superficial ones.”

  “I’d formally introduce Blaire to you, so you could make an informed decision about her, but unfortunately, she won’t be here tonight.”

  “Where’s she spending the night?”

  “At the JUIAF.”

  “When you told me earlier she was going there, I didn’t realize she’d be staying.”

  “It’s the safest place for her, right now.”

  Lieutenant Mad looked uneasy, like she wanted to say something, but was unsure how to say it.

  “What?” QT said. “Were you going to say something?”

  “I have a personal question to ask you.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Do you consider me a friend?”

  “Let me think. You saved my girlfriend’s life, you’ve never lied to me, you’re putting your life in danger to help me, and you’re good company while I’m having my morning coffee. Yes, I believe you qualify as a friend. I don’t know you well enough for you to be a best friend, but you’re a friend nevertheless.”

  “Good, because I need to ask you for a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “Can I stay at your townhouse tonight? There are spooks camped out near my place at the Jefferson Theater, ready to pounce on me if I go back there. That’s why I moved up our meeting time.”

  “Do you know which agency is after you?

  “It doesn’t really matter which one. They’re all alike as far as I’m concerned. If I were to guess, I’d say they’re Homeland Security because they have domestic jurisdiction. But, any of a dozen agencies could want me permanently dead if I resurface.”

  “Of course, you can stay here.”

  “Thanks. You’ll barely know I’m around.”

  “Aren’t you afraid they’ll come after both of us here?”

  “I’ve been watching your townhouse today and haven’t seen anybody suspicious. Believe me, they’ll come after you, but they have to be subtler with you than me. They can’t break down the door of an active FBI agent and drag him away without raising flags. In a sense, you’re one of them. Don’t have any doubts though, they’ll be coming to talk to you about me and if they don’t get the answers they’re looking for, your life will be in danger.”

  “You’re full of doom and gloom.”

  “Just being a realist.”

  “The guestroom is right over there,” he said, changing the subject. “There’re clean towels in the bathroom linen closet and a clean terry cloth bathrobe hanging on a hook behind the door.”

  “A shower sounds good. My place at the Jefferson doesn’t have a private bath and sponge baths at public restrooms don’t cut it.”

  “Why don’t you freshen up, and then we can talk some more.”

  “That sounds good to me.”

  “While you’re in the shower, I’d be glad to throw the clothes you’re wearing now into the washer.”

  The lieutenant looked down at her soiled shorts and military shirt and said, “I guess they could use a good washing, but I’d rather do it myself, if you’ll show me where your laundry room is.”

  “The washer and dryer are in that small room next to the office. You probably didn’t bring personal items. If you need a toothbrush, there’s a new one in a package in the vanity, and there’s soap and shampoo in the shower stall.”

  “It’s like a hotel. Do you and Blaire have many overnight guests?”

  “You’re the first.”

  “I won’t be long in the shower,” she said as she walked to the guestroom and closed the door behind her.

  In less than a minute, she opened the door part way and peeked her head out, while leaving her naked body out of sight. “I have something for you,” she said.

  Quinton knitted his brows, not understanding exactly what she meant.

  “Not that,” she said, to clarify that she wasn’t offering herself. She extended her hand through the opening.

  He approached her and said, “What do you have there?”

  “It’s a USB drive with a video. There’s a text file that explains where it was recorded. I don’t think it’s directly related to that FBI agent’s murder, but it’s relevant to you and your investigation. You should view it on your computer without me looking over your shoulder. It’s personal. I’ll answer any questions you have after I’m done in here.”

  “You’re full of surprises,” he said and took the USB drive from her hand.

  With his curiosity piqued, QT went straight to his office. He plugged the USB drive into the notebook PC. There were two files, a text file and an MP4 video file. He opened the text and read it:

  Lieutenant Mad:

  FBI Agent Jeremy Glover and NSA Cyber Analyst Blaire Saunders are assigned to Project Typhon, which is investigating Anne Upshaw, CEO of Upshaw Corporation. I did research to find out which home security company Anne Upshaw uses, assuming whoever was going to break into her house would do the same thing. The security company has cameras around its offices, which I hacked into. The FBI Agent and Blaire Saunders were captured on one of those videos. Look at it and decide whether it’s pertinent.

  Dr. Bit

  QT closed the text file, opened the video file, and clicked on the play icon.

  It was nighttime, but the security company parking lot was well-lit. A man and woman were standing behind a ma
intenance van. The man’s back was to the camera, but he wasn’t blocking the woman’s face. QT recognized Blaire. The man pulled Blaire close to him and kissed her. Quinton was waiting for her to push him away or slap him, but she didn’t. They were locked in an embrace and the kissing became increasingly passionate as they felt their way to the back of the van. They separated long enough to open the door and crawl inside. The video image of the van with the door partially open remained unchanged for a few minutes before the man and woman emerged. Both of their faces were clear now and Quinton could see what he already knew, it was Jeremy Glover with Blaire. After Jeremy adjusted his pants and buckled his belt and Blaire buttoned her blouse, they got into Blaire’s BMW.

  The video stopped — and QT thought his heart stopped, too.

  Chapter 33

  W hen Lieutenant Mad emerged from the guestroom, Quinton was in the kitchen, pouring himself a second glass of wine. With her hair still damp from the shower and wearing nothing but a white, terrycloth bathrobe that was at least six inches above her knees, she looked clean and refreshed — and sexy. Quinton glanced at her with bedroom eyes, but quickly turned away, hoping she hadn’t noticed his inappropriate peek.

  Holding her dirty clothes out, away from her cleansed body, she said, “I’m going to put these in the washer.”

  “Good idea.” When she reached the laundry room, he raised his voice a little and added, “I’m sure Blaire wouldn’t mind if you borrowed a pair of pajamas or a nightgown to sleep in tonight.”

  He almost choked on his wine when she replied nonchalantly, “That won’t be necessary, I don’t wear anything to bed.”

  After the rhythmic sloshing of the washer began, the lieutenant rejoined QT in the kitchen.

  “Can I interest you in a drink?” he asked.

  “I seldom drink anymore, but it does sound good right about now,” she said in a way that indicated she was mulling over his offer. “What the heck, I’d love to join you for a glass of wine.”

  “If it’s a problem for you, don’t feel obligated. I don’t want to be responsible for helping you to restart a bad habit.”

  “I didn’t say I was an alcoholic. I don’t drink because I don’t want to waste my limited funds on booze.”

  As he poured her a glass of wine he said, “Not that it’s any of my business, but where do you obtain your limited funds? Do you work or are you on welfare?”

  “Neither. I inherited some money and live off from that.”

  “Really? You don’t strike me as being the heiress type.”

  “If I thought you meant I look too low class to be an heiress, I’d be insulted. I’ll assume you meant I don’t act like an uppity bitch and take your comment as a compliment.”

  “I’m sure in a designer gown, you could fit into a high society dinner party quite easily without looking out of place. It just doesn’t seem like a venue where you’d feel comfortable.”

  You’re right. I’m a country girl, born in North Carolina.”

  “You don’t have a southern accent.”

  “I moved to the Midwest with my family when I was ten and lost the drawl somewhere along the way.”

  “If you weren’t born into the upper class, how’d you become an heiress?”

  “I didn’t say I inherited a fortune. I’m not living like Paris Hilton, am I? I received a modest payout from the life insurance policy of Lieutenant Madeline Casey.”

  “That must’ve been tricky to arrange, considering the circumstances surrounding Madeline Casey’s death.”

  “It turns out that a person who’s a computer whiz can bypass the normal bureaucracy. The bureaucrats lose billions through fraud and corruption every year. They’ll never miss the paltry amount of money I received. I don’t feel guilty for taking it because I more than earned it while working for the government.”

  “I didn’t know you were a computer whiz.”

  “I’m competent with computers, but I have a friend, Dr. Bit, who’s a technology genius.”

  “Would that be the same Dr. Bit who provided the video on the USB drive you gave me.”

  “One and the same ... So, you played the video?”

  Quinton set down his empty glass and let out a deep breath. “Yes, I watched it.”

  “Did you know about the affair?”

  “I knew something was going on. Blaire denied it. She can be very convincing.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to do with the video after Dr. Bit gave it to me. I couldn’t decide whether it was relevant to the assassination or not.”

  “It’s possible that it’s indirectly connected. Blaire told me that she’d been asked to spy on Jeremy Glover because he was suspected of taking bribes. According to her, she was flirting with him to gain his trust. I guess we know now, it was more than flirting.”

  “It looks incriminating, but you should talk with her and get her side of the story.”

  “I intend to, tomorrow. Are you ready to share what you’ve found out about the dead assassin or would you rather wait until the morning?”

  “His name was Eduardo Ruiz Gomez, aka Scarlatino. He’s Venezuelan and was here on a work visa.”

  “Do you know what company sponsored him for the visa?”

  “Lighthouse Technology Corporation.”

  “Jeremy Glover leased two properties owned by Lighthouse Technology. Do you have any sources who could find out who owns that company?”

  “Can’t you get that information from your intelligence databases?”

  “Blaire and I are reluctant to do the search because the person who hired Scarlatino could have a way of monitoring our computer activity.”

  “Dr. Bit has already begun researching Lighthouse. It’s a shell corporation. It’ll take a while to trace it back to its owner.”

  “Before I forget it, can you have your computer whiz friend see what he can find out about an NSA Cyber Analyst Amanda Thiel. She was a close acquaintance of Jeremy’s, and it appears that she disappeared a few weeks ago. I couldn’t dig up anything on the status of the search for her.”

  “I’ll ask Dr. Bit to look into it.”

  “What else have you and Dr. Bit found that’s of use in my investigation?”

  “Are you aware that Blaire and Jeremy were part of a task force involved in an operation called Project Typhon?”

  “Yes, I suspect the task force and the murder are tied together some way, but I don’t know how, yet.”

  “Did you know that the task force leader, DIA Special Agent John Warren, was a sniper before moving to the DIA?”

  “No, I didn’t. But, he obviously wasn’t the assassin because we know Scarlatino killed Jeremy and attempted to murder Blaire.”

  “That’s true enough; however, it tells us that he knows assassins for hire, if he were inclined to use them.”

  “Blaire is at the JUIAF with Warren. I certainly hope he’s not behind this.”

  “Even if he is, he’d be a fool to try anything while she’s at the JUIAF.”

  “You’re right. She was going to tell him that she called the FBI to let them know she was going there tonight. Have you found anything that links Warren to Scarlatino?”

  “No, it’s just something to keep in the back of our minds.”

  “Noted.”

  “Did your girlfriend confide in you about Project Typhon.”

  “You mean my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. No, she hasn’t told me much about it. I found out a little about the project while interviewing other task force members. They’re investigating Upshaw Corporation because they suspect the CEO or one of her direct reports is colluding with the Chinese and jeopardizing our laser weapon systems.”

  “That’s the stated objective, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a secret objective. I have a friend who’s an expert in laser technology. He’s doing some research to confirm whether this really has something to do with laser weapons or a different application of laser technology.”

  ‘What makes you think ther
e’s more to this than the stated objective?”

  “Jeremy and Blaire were bugging the homes of all the Upshaw executives.”

  “That’s to be expected. The task force must have legal warrants to do it.”

  “I found out Blaire was preparing to install mind control equipment in CEO Anne Upshaw’s house. I bet they didn’t get a warrant to do that.”

  “That sounds farfetched. I don’t know of any cases where the technology has been taken out of the lab and used on someone.”

  “It exists. I know because it was used on me.”

  Quinton eyed her with suspicion. “Who was the source of this information? Are they a reliable informant or a conspiracy theorist?”

  “The source is Blaire. I obtained it from her personal notes on her laptop.”

  Quinton shook his head and smiled. “If we’re going to be friends,” he said, “we’re going to need to talk about boundaries. Hacking computers at your friend’s home is not acceptable.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference. And for the record, running fingerprint analysis on your friends is also unacceptable.”

  “Let’s call it even and be more honest with each other going forward.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  “Is there anything else you’ve discovered that could lead us to who’s behind the attacks?”

  “It’s a long shot, but we might have a way to identify the person who hired the assassin. He may not be the top boss, but he could get us closer to the truth.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Remember I told you I was contacted by a man who talked with Scarlatino, earlier tonight?”

  “The guy who warned us that the attack on Blaire was imminent?”

  “That’s right. He’s a retired hitman. He told Scarlatino he wants to get back in the game and asked him for client contacts. Apparently, Scarlatino didn’t like his current employer very much. He said he was a corporate guy, who paid well, but didn’t respect him. He offered to give the client Rasputin’s contact information for future jobs.”

  “Who’s Rasputin?”