Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3) (14 page)

“Has something happened to your profitable partnership?” Dillon asked.

“You might say Mr. Lee has gone rogue.”

“Which means?”

“A few hours ago, Mr. Lee took over the computer system and locked us out,” the caller explained.

“Shit.”

“Precisely.”

“Maybe he just wants more money.”

“We offered. He didn’t respond.”

“Maybe he’s changed his mind about helping you. He could’ve decided he doesn’t want to be a traitor.”

“I sincerely doubt that. In truth, we suspect he’s reprogramming the system for a meltdown, disguised to look as if the software changes originated with us. So we’ll be blamed.”

“That’s what you were experimenting with doing. Hypocritical of you, isn’t it? And by ‘you,’ I mean the Chinese government,” Dillon said.

“Don’t get belligerent, Mr. O’Malley. We need to move quickly—to save thousands of Americans…and one baby girl.”

Kat’s breath caught. “I’m not a computer whiz. How am I supposed to stop Charlie?”

“Kill him.”

Her jaw dropped, and her mind went blank.

“We left a gun and ammunition under your pillow.”

“I-I c-can’t kill Charlie.”

“Think of Skye, Ms. MacKenzie. Think of all the people you’ll save. Doesn’t the saving of thousands justify the death of one?”

“Leave her alone!” Dillon growled. “I’ll do it.”

Kat gasped and grabbed his arm. “I can’t let you do it, Dillon.”

“Not your decision.” He shook off her hand. He needed his intense focus right now, and her touch distracted him way too much.

“You may not be her boyfriend, Mr. O’Malley, but you’re apparently a very
good
friend. Killing Mr. Lee means you’re willing to risk jail or worse to save Ms. MacKenzie’s daughter.”

“I said I’d do it, asshole. Take it or leave it.”

“Actually, we don’t care who does it as long as Mr. Lee is disposed of. You must act quickly though.”

“How quickly?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Kat echoed. “We need time to plan.”

Dillon cocked his head at the “we.” She smiled in return.

“Time is a luxury we don’t have, Ms. MacKenzie. We’re confident Mr. Lee is setting the stage for a meltdown as we speak. I should also warn you not to involve the authorities in any way. Unless you want this to become a diplomatic nightmare.”

“The Chinese government blackmailing a private American citizen to murder someone isn’t?”

“Not if no one knows. Remember, we’ll be watching, Mr. O’Malley. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your daughter.”

“Skye isn’t my daughter,” he said bitterly. “
Remember
, her mother and I are just old friends.”

“Of course.”

“When and how do I get Skye back?” Kat asked.

“We’ll contact you at your house with instructions once you’ve completed your task. This phone will be our only means of communication.” He disconnected the call.

“Your task sounds like we’ve been told to take out the trash,” she said dejectedly.

“In a way, we are taking out the trash: Charlie is definitely garbage.”

“What do we do now?”

The pleading in her eyes just about broke his heart. He could lie and blow smoke-filled platitudes at her about how everything was going to be okay. But he was far from confident that they were so he thought it kinder not to get her hopes up. The Chinese had a reputation for not keeping their end of a deal—similar to the Iranians and North Koreans—giving him little confidence Skye would be returned safely even if he killed Charlie Lee. They also had a reputation for leaving no loose ends, which meant he and Kat could end up dead after fulfilling their task. Absolutely none of it gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling.

“I need to make some phone calls,” he finally answered.

“Who? Chaos?”

“For starters.”

She grabbed his arm again, but this time he let her hold on. He could use a little distraction as much as she could. He’d love to take her away from all this by kissing her lush, trembling lips, but that might send the wrong message. Things were complicated enough already.

“You’re not going to call the FBI, are you? They said no authorities.” Fear for her daughter punctuated each word with an exclamation mark.

“Look, Kat. We need backup. You understand we can’t trust these guys, right?”

“What are you saying? They won’t give Skye back? They can’t do that. It’s not fair. She’s just a baby. Oh God, Dillon. This can’t be happening.” Panic blended with her fear, drawing hysteria visibly close to the surface.

He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “That’s reality, babe. So I want to do this in a way that gives us some leverage against them. If I just march into Diablo Beach and blow Charlie away, we have no leverage.”

“But…but what about all the evidence you have?”

He kissed her forehead. “Now you’re thinking. When they hear what he’s done, the US authorities will be just as happy to be rid of Charlie Lee as the Chinese are. For TSK’s evidence to act as leverage though, the good guys need to know about it before we act.”

“Won’t that take too long?” she asked, her grip tightening on his arm.

“Let’s hope not.”

“Tell me what you’re going to do, please.”

“No. You need plausible deniability. I wish you didn’t even know what the task was, but unfortunately, I can’t erase it from your memory like a damn hard drive.”

“Dillon—”

“Trust me, babe. Now I gotta make some calls.”

Kat couldn’t remember ever having been so scared. Fear for the life of one’s child must rank as one of the highest because hers had skyrocketed to unbearable heights. In an ironic and convoluted way, Dillon’s ignorance of his paternity was probably helping him maintain the concentration he needed to organize what he was now calling an op.

She paced the living room of her bungalow until she got dizzy. Dillon escorted her to the bedroom and insisted she lie down. Every passing second felt like a needle piercing her skin.

Time crawled by. She wanted to do something. Get it over with. Free her daughter. Dillon almost seemed lucky to have a purpose, although she was sure the pressure accompanying that purpose was heavy. Helplessness began to crush her hopes like a massive boulder.

When they first arrived at the house, Dillon had searched it for bugs and found none. But to protect against the Chinese eavesdropping with other external devices, he sat next to the blaring radio to make his phone calls. He refused to tell her whom he was calling. His refusal had the unintended consequence of increasing her stress through speculation.

Finally, when she thought she couldn’t stand another second of waiting, he marched into the bedroom. His grim expression sent her heart into freefall. His gaze flicked to the crib and other baby stuff before reconnecting with hers.

“We should go,” he said flatly.

“Did you get—”

Quickly, he pressed his fingers to her lips and shook his head. With his other hand, he switched on the clock radio beside the nightstand lamp and then removed his fingers from her mouth.

“Did you get it all arranged? Whatever
it
is,” Kat said just loud enough for him to hear.

“No. But it’s in process. Starting something like this in the middle of the night doesn’t help. Dealing with San Diego, Washington, and Beijing time zones makes it worse.”

“Washington?”

“State Department, CIA, NRC, Homeland, NSA, FBI Headquarters, and a few other agencies.”

“Jesus. I didn’t think you spooks talked that much to each other.”

“I’m not a spook. That’s the CIA.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until everyone agrees?” The fear of doing the wrong thing had replaced the fear of doing nothing.

“That never happens. State lives in its own fantasy world in which everyone sits around the campfire singing ‘Kumbaya.’ The rest of us know the world’s full of shit and evil, but State can’t handle it. If we wait for them, the bad stuff goes down, and we can’t stop it.”

“That’s a pessimistic outlook.”

“No, it’s realistic. And I admit there isn’t a diplomatic bone in my body.” He shook his head. “We can’t wait any longer. Those Chinese assholes might get antsy and do something…stupid.”

“Are you…we…going to kill Charlie?”

“Only if I have to.”

They arrived at Diablo Beach about one a.m. Frustrated by the delays from so many cooks in the kitchen, Dillon hoped at least some of the op prep he’d ordered had been carried out. If not, this was going to be a long, unpredictable, and dangerous night.

Adrenaline building, he had his FBI creds in hand when he pulled the truck up to the guard at the security gate. “I’m—”

“FBI Special Agent Dillon O’Malley. I’ve been hearing your name and seeing your ugly mug for the last hour. Thank God, you’re finally here,” the man said. He stuck out his right hand. “Simon Clarke, head of Diablo Beach security. Not that I’m particularly proud of the fact at this moment.”

“Thanks, Clarke. I’m glad to finally be here too. Where do we stand?”

“FBI Supervisory Special Agent Rex Kelley—the guy who read us in on this—says you all are after Charlie Lee. Tells me the guy’s perpetrating a domestic terrorist attack. Kinda hard to believe about Charlie, but I guess he had us all fooled.”

“Is my team here?”

Clarke glanced at his clipboard. “Yeah. I understand Kelley’s in San Diego, but the following agents are on site: Alfren, Regis, Hall, Barton, and now you. Here’s a map marking their locations. Kelley told them where to go. Everyone’s invisible unless you give the word. He said we’re supposed to look like business as usual. Understand we got some ‘outsiders’ watchin’. What the fuck does that mean?”

Dillon snorted at the guard’s rambling response and then scanned the map, noting the agents’ positions. “They left you some equipment for me,” he said.

“Oh yeah.” The man handed him a communication earpiece and two Kevlar vests.

“Where’s Charlie now?”

The guard grunted. “Took a bit to find the fucker, especially when we had to act like we weren’t looking for him.”

“You couldn’t spot him on the security cams?”

“No, that would’ve been too easy. Looked there first, of course. But he’s holed up in the small security office in the southwest quadrant. That area hasn’t been used since decommissioning started in 2013, and the cameras over there aren’t activated.”

“That’s not good,” Dillon said.

“Damn straight, it’s not good. I’ve been hollering about it to management for months. Anyway, I told Bob Smith, the guard who found Charlie, to stay put and keep his eyes on him.”

“Good.” Dillon consulted the map. “This
X
is Charlie?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s in the office?”

“Not much. But apparently, he’s got himself a computer in there.”

“Since it’s a security office, does he have access to the cams?”

Clarke thought a moment. “The regular monitors have been removed. He might be able to do some geek magic and get into the cam feed with just that damn computer though.”

Dillon knew for a fact that the cam feed could be accessed with geek magic—remotely even. When this was over, he’d have a lot of security recommendations for Diablo Beach…if it hadn’t melted down. “See if you can determine whether he’s getting the feed. We need to know if he’s watching us.”

“On it.”

“What’s he carrying?”

“A nine millimeter semiautomatic.”

“Nothing bigger?”

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up. “Not that the company issued.”

“How many other employees on site?”

“Dozen total. All accounted for. Five of us are armed security. The other staff are technicians, like Ms. MacKenzie.”

“What were Kelley’s instructions?”

“We’re in lockdown. Everybody has been warned that Charlie is armed and dangerous, and they’ve been advised to shelter in place.”

“All right. Keep this place locked down tight. I sure as hell don’t want the asshole getting away.”

He parked the truck in the employees’ lot. Standing beside it, he strapped on the Kevlar vest and then adjusted his holster and the Glock in his rear waistband. Intensity had taken over, and he was in agent mode. “O’Malley checking in,” he advised his boss.

“Glad you made it to the party, O’Malley. We were beginning to wonder if you were standing us up,” SSA Rex Kelley joked.

“If ASAIC Carter hadn’t invited State to join us, I would’ve been here an hour ago.”

“How are they doing?”

“Still working on a duet of ‘Kumbaya’ with Headquarters.”

“Glad you got away.”

“Me too. Let’s do this.” He turned to Kat, who hadn’t said a word since they’d arrived. God, she looked shaken and fragile, but determined. “I wish you’d wait at the security gate with Clarke.”

“I can’t, Dillon. My daughter’s life is at stake. I think I can help you. If I tell Charlie that the Chinese have Skye, I believe he’ll stop this awful attack.”

He didn’t share her optimism. “Then promise me you’ll obey my orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

After they got the Kevlar vest on Kat, they scurried across the parking lot. Dillon glanced up at the marine layer hanging overhead, threatening to drop like a blanket and shroud everything in fog. Decreased visibility was a complication he didn’t need. Charlie knew this place better than he or Kat. The terrorist would have a definite advantage playing hide-and-seek in the shadows and fog. For now at least, the marine layer reflected the glow from the exterior lights, giving the whole property an eerie yellowish tinge. That, Dillon could live with.

When they reached the cover of a large building, he pulled the map from his pocket. “Tell me about the southwest quadrant.”

“I don’t know much. It’s been closed off since I started work here.”

“Anything helps.”

She twisted the map around so she could get her bearings. “Okay, so Charlie is the
X
in the security office in this building. It’s adjacent to the seawall. Right here.” She pointed to the spot on the map.

“Seawall?”

“Yeah. It’s thirty feet high, stairs to ground level at each end, and a catwalk the entire length for maintenance. Sits right on the beach. They built it to protect against tsunamis, since those can be a result of earthquakes like what happened at Fukushima.”

“What’s the fastest way to the ground from the security office?”

She pointed to another spot on the map. “The buildings on the ocean side of the compound have an elevator and stairs at the west end. They will take you all the way down to ground level.”

“Can you get outside the plant to access the beach there?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only gotten to the beach from the northwest quadrant.”

“There’s a gate at that end?”

“Yes. Why are you asking about the beach? Aren’t you going to grab him in the office?”

“Just being prepared. Everybody get all that detail?” he asked his team and Rex.

Five affirmatives answered in his ear.

He stuffed the map in his pocket and turned to Kat. “Last chance. Are you sure about this?”

“I don’t have a choice, Dillon. She’s my daughter.” She looked away. “Not being a parent, you really can’t understand.”

The comment hit below the belt, but he ignored the jab. “All right. Let’s do this.”

Since Kat knew the compound better than he did, he let her direct them along the path with the least visibility to the cams. When possible, they used inside hallways, but they also had to hustle from the shadows of one building to the other.