Old Growth & Ivy (The Spook Hills Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

Until
that trip to your company a couple of weeks ago, I had never been to your City
of Roses.  I spent some weeks in Seattle a few years ago, working on a
jewel smuggling case.  Mt. Rainier and the Olympic Mountains struck me
with their majestic presence.  I thought then that I wanted to return some
day and hike out into that wilderness.  That was before I saw Mt. Hood's
graceful crenellated peak that is like a jutting inselberg out of a Tolkien
book.  What was it called?  The Lonely Mountain?  Seattle now
plays a distant second to Portland.  You have something to do with that.

To
be honest, I have never been great at interpersonal relationships, but with you
the words flowed like a river between us.  Each sentence was laden with
meaning, telling each other who we are.  Like you, I hadn’t dated in
years, not once I came out of a long, horrid dead phase in my life.  My monk's
life allowed me to find my values again.  I found ways to chase away the
emptiness inside of me, if only through work.  Nevertheless of late, with
me about the oldest field executive/agent around, I could see the door to
retirement.  That is a door I fear opening.  Beyond it I have only
been able to see a void.

I
mentioned that for a time I worked in D.C. at the Bureau's headquarters in a
very prestigious position that I wanted my whole career and once there I found
I missed solving nasty problems and nailing the perps.  Working at HQ
where I had to use my influence was not my strong point.  After about 18
months at HQ, I engineered myself back into fieldwork in a role I defined,
heading up an elite squad, or team as I prefer to call it, to handle cases
where the perps are located typically in Europe or Latin America. 

Originally
the FBI focused on domestic issues.  However as the world has changed,
most of our big cases have international roots or tentacles.  The Bureau
set up a growing number of Legal Attaché offices around the world to work with
the local authorities to help solve cases.  When on foreign soil, we act
in conjunction with in-country forces under terms arranged by our legats, as we
call them.

Tomorrow
we are flying to Bern for the final planning to apprehend the leader of this
child trafficking operation, save the innocent children held captive, and
destroy the network.  We will stick with this goal, no matter how long it
takes.  All my time and concentration will go into this operation. 
Keep me in your thoughts and be confident that I will return to Portland to see
you as soon as I can – with any luck Thanksgiving weekend.  You may see an
email from me before then or I will call when this operation is over. 

(Hopefully)
Your Favorite Big Guy,

Steve

Ivy
read and reread the email, feeling even more impressed by Steve and the man he
was.  FBI High Bureau Official, or HBO, was what Brian had called
him.  She contemplated the dark October sky, seeing the lights across the
valley and up on the hills to the south.  She turned back to her screen,
did a couple of searches and found that the FBI employs over 35,000
people.   To be an FBI HBO was an impressive achievement.

Steve
seemed to dwarf her.  His work made hers, even as the head of an important
business unit, feel less significant.  With work soon to be in her past,
Ivy needed a new definition for herself to stand up to her own expectations and
to the scrutiny of a man like Steve.  Yet he was a bit one-dimensional or
at least that was what he conveyed.  Maybe she could help him round out
and fill that void that he fears will be retirement.  She had similar
concerns about herself.  If things progressed between them, perhaps together
they could define a life after their career years were behind them.  She
shook her head at herself and pulled her thoughts back.  She was way ahead
of herself.  That night Ivy composed an email back to Steve, but before
she hit the "Send" button, Ivy told herself to keep her desires under
control.  Given her work commitments and pressures, having a long distance
relationship that would have to develop in fits and starts might not be so
bad. 

Around nine that same evening, Steve
and Mathew arrived in Washington by train from New York, using the trip to go
over their findings and plans on the child trafficking case.  The next
day, Steve had an obligatory breakfast meeting scheduled with his boss to
update him on his assigned cases.  He had no respect for his current boss,
thinking him a Bureau HQ lightweight who had never done fieldwork. 
However he would go through the motions of meeting with him.  Steve
considered his real boss to be the Director of the Bureau and he talked with
him every week or so.  Right after the breakfast meeting, Steve along with
Mathew, Brian and four other team members, would fly to Bern to prepare for the
move against the suspected head of the child trafficking operation, identified
as located in Sofia.  He liked to work closer to the perps once they
narrowed in on a location. 

After jumping on the Metro Red Line to
Dupont Circle, Steve and Mathew dropped their bags at their condos and hustled
out for a late dinner at the Italian place they frequented a few blocks
away.  Walking back, Steve recalled that night when he thought they might
have been tailed and kept a discrete watch in case one appeared again.  At
one point, Mathew peered quickly over his left shoulder. 

"You've seen it too?" 
Steve asked.

"The tail?  Yeah. 
Thought I saw something the last time we were here."

"You never said."

"Wasn't sure."

"Let's split up.  You turn
left.  I'll go right and then one of us will circle behind the other,
depending on what the tail does.  Maybe we can trap him between us."

Mathew nodded.  At the corner
they parted. Steve walked for a block and glanced back.  A man in black
was creeping along behind him on the opposite side of the street.  Steve
pulled his gun from the shoulder holster, keeping it under his jacket.  He
slowed his pace, waiting for the tail to make a move.  He risked a glance
over his other shoulder.  Mathew had turned back and was coming up behind
the tail.  Suddenly the man bolted straight ahead, ran to the corner,
turned left and fled, moving with the speed of a sprinter doing a 400 yard
dash.  Steve and Mathew each took off running. 

Up ahead the man in black turned left
on 18th Street heading towards Dupont Circle.  Steve wanted to catch this
shadow and learn who sent him.  The man glanced back, saw him and kept
running.  Steve yelled for him to stop.  The man split left on P
Street.  Steve pushed himself harder only to see the man dash into the
Metro Station.   Steve raced down the stairs just in time to see the
man in black boarding a train as it left the station.  Mathew puffed up
behind him.

"Missed him?"

"Yeah."

"No doubt we are being tailed,
though."

"Ever see anything in New
York?"

 Mathew shook his head. 
"How did he know we were back?"

"Same restaurant.  Maybe a
waiter or somebody gets paid to tip him off."

"Let's go back."

"They were closing when we
left."

“Who do you think it was?"

"Maybe from that drug lord we
tried to hit in Mexico."  They were walking again back to their
condos.

"You been followed before?"

"Not that I'm aware of, except
that one time.  Let's do a bug sweep of our condos and check our
electronic gear for tracking software."

"Usual procedure?  I check
my place and my gear; you check yours?" 

"And then we switch and
repeat."

***

In Bern, the team was reviewing
suspect email traffic in and out of Sofia and laying out scenarios for how the
arrest operation might happen.  Bern was close enough for monitoring and
to jet in to the target city when needed, yet distant enough to escape
detection.  Steve had a one-bedroom suite, using the living room for
meetings, as well as for their computers and surveillance gear.  Early the
second Tuesday, Mathew was reading decoded texts and emails to and from the
perps in the surveillance area.  Another agent named Trina was working on
her scenarios.  The plan was for her to lead a meeting with the
perps.  She seemed to be on a mission with this case and was very intent
on having every detail right.

"Check this out, Big Guy,"
said Mathew.  He had taken to using that soubriquet since he heard Ivy
call Steve by that name during their brief meeting at the airport.

  "Twenty
Snežanas and six
Zvezdans are ready for new
homes.  The orphanage is full." 

Trina crowded over next to
Mathew.  "Snežanas are Snow Whites or Virgin Girls and Zvezdans are
Stars or Innocent Boys," she echoed annoyingly, as if Steve could forget
the perps’ sick code words. 

"If their orphanage is full, then
we need to go in now with our proposal for a new network child porn centers in
smaller Midwestern cities," Trina continued.

"Tell us something we don't
know," Steve said, lacing his comment heavily with sarcasm. Sometimes
Trina could be a blunt instrument on the communications side.  She seemed
to think with her mouth.  It could make her risky in the field.  That
was one of the differences between her and Mathew.  He never stated the
obvious. 

That
morning they worked at role-playing with Steve taking the part of leader of the
perps, a woman referred to as Matka in the emails the agents decoded.  It
meant "Mother" in the Slavic language used by a broad range of
peoples across multiple countries in Eastern Europe.  Mathew took on the
role of the man they suspected to be Matka’s next in command, a henchman they
dubbed Dragomir, which is a Slavic name composed of the elements dorogo meaning
precious and mir meaning peace, making the combination literally mean
"precious peace”.  They liked the irony of the meaning, but mostly
they liked the dull, threatening sound of "Dragomir" when they said
it. 
 

Trina was playing her role as the lead
on their team and Brian was acting as the main negotiator.  Brian was
stalwart, never making a misstatement and never showing that he had been caught
off-guard.  His performance made Steve proud.  While Trina had been
flawless, by the end of the morning she was beginning to glow with nervous
perspiration.  Steve continued to play Matka as the sophisticated
executive, who might be selling fine Slavic art, collectible heirlooms, or gold
threaded fabrics for plush interior designs.  Instead, the perp was
selling kids.  He made a lousy Matka, but he could do the conversation.

"Now that we have talked, perhaps
you would like to see a sample of the goods.”  He nodded at Mathew and
smiled in the cold way he had learned early in his career.

Brian and Trina were not privy to the
next scenario.  He wanted to see what they would do.  Mathew escorted
what appeared to be two teenagers into the room.  One was a female
prostitute, younger in appearance than she was, flat chested and with
short-cropped hair.  She portrayed a certain waif-like innocence. The
second prostitute was a boyish young man with blond hair cut close at the sides
but left long on top so that it tumbled down over his forehead.   It
irked Steve to test the two agents this way, but it could happen and he had to
see their reactions. 

He had made sure the two hired
prostitutes were not underage by American standards and he interviewed them to
be sure they were not coerced into their work.  Both were students at the
local university who were earning their tuition money with their bodies. 
The young woman had it all lined out -- how she would graduate in a year
without having to take on student loans or government obligations.  While
it bothered Steve, he had heard worse.  It was offensive to him to line
them up, but this test could become real.  The agents might be expected to
try out "the goods" to check their veracity as buyers.  The
agents did not have to take that test now or during the sting.  All he
wanted was to see their reactions.

He had outlined three responses the
agents might have and still get by during the negotiations with Matka. 
First, they could go along with the scenario and make use of one of the
prostitutes.  He did not expect them to do that; it was up to them. 
Second, they could negotiate away the time with the prostitute and play their
role as if they had made use of his or her services.  Third, they could
say they negotiated the deal but did not sample the goods.  Any of the
three reactions would be acceptable.   Any would work in the
field.  Steve was there to make the agents ready for what might happen,
not to judge them.

He watched Brian and Trina
closely.  Staying in his role as Matka, he said, "Do you want to
sample the goods?  I can arrange rooms for you."

He could see the shock in Brian's
eyes, but he quickly lowered them and remained silent, perhaps at a loss for
words.  Trina turned a deep purplish red.  Her face became so
distorted with fury that she resembled one of the gargoyles on the older
buildings around Bern.

 "You complete and utter
deviant," she spat out.  "How could you bring in these
kids?  They are what fifteen?  How are you any better than the slime
we're trying to catch?  This is going too far.  I will have you
called before the Bureau for this and I hope they castrate you.  You are a
sick son of a bitch."

Steve held his silence.  Mathew
opened his mouth to defend him.  Steve gave him a look that told him to be
quiet.  They had to hear it all.  Trina was fired up.  This was
fail or succeed time for her.  She flew at Steve as a ball of rage and
frustration.  He could have pushed her away, but he wanted to see how this
played out with her.  First Mathew and then Brian moved to grab her. 
He shook his head.  When Steve failed to fight back, Trina moved away and
glared at him furiously.

"What you are doing is all
wrong.  It's sick.  This isn't a scenario; it's not in our
casebook.  Your mind has become so warped you can't see right from wrong
any more.  Do you have any idea what's it like to be a child forced to do
whatever some sick adult wants?"

Suddenly Steve realized why Trina was
furious.  He was so stunned by this turn of events that a few moments
passed before he said, "No, but you do."

She went silent.  Her red face
paled as if a bucket of whitewash had been thrown over her.  As the rage
left her, she sank to her knees on the floor.  She began to quiver, rock
back and forth and sob, and then she went into a stupor, draped over her
knees.  Steve’s guess was that it was a childhood pose -- a place she went
after she had suffered. 

It was hard to see a good agent
implode.  He had pushed and pushed until she broke.  He had no idea
she had been abused as a child and he had driven her back into that personal
hell.  If he had known, she would not have been on this case.  Now it
was too late and he felt dreadful. 

They carried Trina back to her room,
where Brian stayed while Steve arranged for another agent to be with her. 
He also called for the hotel doctor.  He had only wanted to see what she
or Brian would do if a situation like this arose.  Unfortunately he went
too close to those horrible memories trapped inside of her.  It explained
why she had been on this case with such a vengeance.  He hated himself for
pushing Trina too far. 

Mathew escorted the two prostitutes
out of the hotel.  Steve went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and
washed his face, trying to cleanse away his remorse.  It didn't
work.  He went out for a walk to make peace with himself.  Once he
was calmed down enough to return, he started making calls.  He arranged
for Trina to fly home the next day.  He also contacted the Bureau’s Human
Relations folks to ensure that Trina received the care and counseling she
needed.  Finally he filed a report on the incident and added the scenario
to the casebook along with a fourth possible reaction. 

Now they had a problem.  Their
front woman was gone.  They had to activate Plan 8.5 which was to use a
backup for Trina.  They thought a woman might play better as the lead with
Matka, therefore their contact man was describing a woman as the leader in the
overtures to set up a meeting with the perps.  Steve considered sound
planning one of his strengths: outlining possible scenarios, analyzing the
risks, devising backup plans and second-guessing the other side.  Nothing
in reality went by any of the plans.  However after testing out so many
instances, the team was ready for close to anything.

Brian came back.  While he was
rattled, he understood the need to keep moving forward. 

"What do we do now, Chief?"

"It's Plan 8.5, but we don't have
another female agent who is both up to speed and sufficiently skilled to take
that lead role."

"So we switch to a guy."

"Yes."

"Mathew?"

"He'll get five o'clock shadow an
hour into the negotiations."

"You mean have a guy play a
woman?" Brian asked apprehensively.

"It has to be you.  You are
thoroughly acquainted with the playbook.  We need to keep the lead person
as a woman.  That is what is expected for the meeting with Matka."

"Me?  No way.  I have
never refused an assignment before.  This one, definitely not."