Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

" L et's take a look in Zoe's computer," Jake quietly said, opening her laptop next to his on the café table in front of him. "Maybe she left us some clue as to what she's been investigating,"

The sun was going down, but the street lamps gave enough light for their little team to continue watching the area. The spot he'd picked had a good view of the townhouse Zoe had been surveilling diagonally across from the café. His table was also positioned, so that he could see anyone coming at him and no one could read what was on his computer screens. In order not to really stick out from all the other people working on their tablets and laptops in the café, he'd ordered what he liked to call a fru-fru coffee with frothy milk artistically decorated on top. His usual black coffee would've definitely been memorable to the baristas who worked here. He'd also gotten two butterscotch-pecan iced scones.

He grinned. Sami wasn't here to tell him one was enough. For years he'd been on his own, working undercover with the FBI, eating anything he wanted, not concerned with the health benefits or not. Then she'd come into his life, spent her time worrying about him and filling his world full of people. There was Sami, their three children—their adopted son Niki, who was now a teenager at fourteen, their five-year old daughter Libby, and their three-year old son Billy, named after his old partner Bill Doyle. Then there was all of the Edgars clan, including Castello and his wife Sydney, as well as all the people working for EIS.

It was even because of Sami that he'd decided to leave the FBI and start his own private security and investigation company. Castello had jumped at the idea of partnering with him and all of Sami's brothers joined in, making them a much sought after entity by private and government contractors alike. With all their previous jobs working for the government or law enforcement, they had excellent contacts.

The only thing he didn't like about his life right now was being the boss, he often had to put those he loved in harm's way. Zoe's disappearance wasn't just a missing person case. No, she was a missing part of his family who, based on her previous assignments, may have information about a danger to the country.

Yeah, it was a two-scone day.

"I took a quick look in her laptop before we left her house, but Zoe didn't have anything in her photos or files that looked suspicious," Castello, who was outside in the SUV, said in his ear.

"Yeah, on the surface it looks benign, except for her lack of a social network presence online. But I learned one thing from my brother-in-law. What looks harmless can be the deadliest. Luke also said always check the search history." Which was exactly what he'd just brought up.

"Anything interesting there?"

"Looks like she was looking up old news events starting a few months before the inaugural ball at the Monitor Hotel."

"When we first met her," Ben said through the ear buds.

"Right."

"I don't remember anything much happening before then except the country voting in the first female president," Castello said.

Jake looked at the articles. "Nothing local. Most of the articles were from foreign news outlets and took place in Central and South America."

"What was she looking for?"

"Cartels. Several take downs of the leaders of Columbian gangs. A gun battle in Panama. Kidnapping in Nicaragua."

"Don't remember the DEA being involved in any of those in the past decade," Frank said.

"They weren't. At least not overtly," Jake suggested. "Seems to be a pattern in her search. She's actually moving North."

"Like she's tracking someone," Ben said. "The question is who and why?"

Jake glanced at his laptop and the video he'd paused on the sedan with the slightly tinted windows. In a town full of spooks, government leaders and foreign dignitaries, the car didn't stand out. The fact that it had been on all the traffic cam footage he'd picked up with Zoe in the area made it important. "Don't know the why yet, but I think the answer to the who is in the Mercedes we're watching for."

"The one whose license plate is listed as belonging to a corporation?" Frank asked.

"That's the one."

Once he'd been assured the sedan was a possible lead, Jake had forwarded a picture of the car's license plate to Abby who called him back with information that it belonged to a hedge fund called MLQ. Which in turn was held by an LLC. According to Abby, this MLQ was a shell corporation that was buried under no less than a dozen other shell companies. Someone was going to a great deal of trouble to hide their identity and Zoe was working just as hard to ferret them out. The only thing Abby had been to verify so far was the ultra-secret group Areneum that Zoe worked for didn't have ties to any of these shell companies.

"Hey," Ben's voice broke through his thoughts. "The rear garage door is opening."

When the sun set nearly an hour ago, Ben had shifted his surveillance to the alley behind the townhouse they'd determined Zoe'd been surveilling, saying he'd be able to blend in back there in the dark while they kept eyes on the front entrance. Jake had to agree with Castello, Ben really did have the ability to do undercover work and he'd keep him in mind to fill that role in future operations.

"Okay, let us know what direction he's heading. We'll follow him," Jake said already closing the laptops and storing them in his carrying case. He scooped the scones into the paper bag they'd come with and left the coffee. Castello pulled up outside the café just as he exited the door. Jake switched to speaker phone as he buckled in.

"He's headed west towards you guys. Black Mercedes, slightly tinted windows, male driver." Ben rattled off the license plate number. This was the same car they'd been watching for.

"Got it," Castello said, allowing two cars to follow the Benz through the interaction before pulling out into traffic behind them.

"Want me to take a look inside while he's gone?" Ben asked.

Jake exchanged a look with Castello, who gave a what-the-heck shrug as he kept a steady pace behind their target's car. "Start with the security. If it's too high-tech, just get a look at it and we'll decide later if we want to go inside. We don't want to tip him off that he's on our radar until we figure out who he is and why Zoe had been watching him."

"And if it's low-tech?" Ben sounded hopeful that it was.

"Don't get caught going in or out," Jake said.

"And ghost it inside," Castello added. All three knew he meant leave no trace that anyone had been inside the residence while their man was out—everything exactly how he found it, not even a stray hair out of place.

"Just call me Casper," Ben said with a chuckle, then went quiet.

Jake pulled out his earbud and slipped it in his pocket as Castello pulled onto Connecticut. They were heading southeast towards DuPont Circle. "You think he's headed for Embassy Row?"

"Could be. Hope it's not some black-tie event," Castello said. "I left my tux in Ohio."

Jake chuckled. "There aren't just embassies in that area. More than one private club is in some of those older buildings though. Parking is going to be problem."

"Check the glove compartment."

Curious, Jake opened it and found a plastic pouch containing different residential parking permit stickers. "Where did you get these?"

Castello shrugged. "I know a guy. I'm not getting blown by some ticket-happy rookie cop. Most beat cops see a parking permit sticker and move on. We'll see where this guy ends up and then choose wisely."

When the sedan pulled into the drive of an old Victorian-era row house, Castello drove by, Jake snapping pictures of the man who climbed out. The street lamps gave enough light to see the man was either a tanned white man or possibly of Hispanic descent. He appeared to be in good shape weight-wise, but his age was indeterminant, although his gate suggested he was under sixty. He was greeted at the door by a large man in a suit, who quite possibly had a holstered weapon to ward off unwanted guests.

Castello drove three blocks before circling back to keep the doorman from recognizing them. When they returned, he found parking on the street and slapped the appropriate sticker on the windshield.

Jake focused his camera on the car in front of them. "I'm going to send pictures of the license plates of the cars parked along the road and any that come into that drive to Abby."

"Probably only going to find more shell companies owning them," Castello said.

"Yeah, but maybe she'll find one lead for us. I hate not having any idea what we're looking for."

"Same. Be nice if your cousin-in-law gave us a clue."

Jake agreed. He opened the passenger-side door, then paused. "Unfortunately, it's looking like the Virginia team may be doing a recovery instead of a rescue mission and we may never know what Zoe was up to. Worse. My spidey-sense is telling me she was looking into something big."

?

Quintus loved walking into the main room of the Kratos Club, named for the Greek god of strength and power. It was right out of a Hollywood set of masculinity. Deep walnut paneled walls and bookshelves, tufted soft-leather upholstered club chairs with cut-crystal lamps sitting on the tables, and Persian rugs throughout the space. Waiters in black-tie and tails brought drinks in crystal tumblers on silver trays and many were members of families who served the club going back generations, loyalty and discretion literally born into their DNA.

Established after the war of 1812 by like-minded men who believed that while the Constitution established the working foundation for the people to see a government they believed to be controlled by them, in reality the club's founders believed the masses needed guidance to keep chaos in order. A group of men who knew how to grow the country, control the people and make America into a super-power. King makers who could control the course of the country by bribery, manipulation and full out coercion if necessary.

Giving Chambers, the concierge for the main room a nod, Quintus headed directly to the far corner near the fireplace where two members of The Commission—the General and the Banker—sat quietly talking.

"Gentleman," he said taking the unoccupied third seat.

The other two men gave him a nod, but no one spoke until Quintus' standard drink of Irish whiskey neat was served and the waiter well out of earshot.

"News?" the General asked.

"Our man in State delivered. The secret location and the guest list are ours," he said, waiting for the next question.

"Will he be a problem?"

He took a drink of his whiskey. "No. Unfortunately for him, he became a statistic of the fentanyl crisis."

The other two men gave him an understanding nod.

"And the other issues?" the General asked.

When he'd decided to call in the dark team to follow Dodger and Styx into the mountains, he knew The Commission, specifically these two men, would be notified of the situation. The team was under the command of the General—a retired four-star that lead a private security force. The money to pay and supply the team came through the Banker—controller of The Commission's private offshore funds. His second call after the dark team was to these two men. He'd let them know she'd been surveilling the meeting in Roanoke, but didn't let them know of his personal connection, so the problem of Zoe Edgars was on everyone's radar.

"The initial team is nearing their target, but weather in that rural area has limited any communication from them at this time."

"And the second team?" the Banker asked.

He met them both with a steady gaze. One didn't show fear or uncertainty to these men. It would be like offering yourself up for crucifixion. "They are in the area. Once the phone has been retrieved, they will secure it and close all loose ends they find."

"We are too close to our goal to have an unknown entity throw a wrench into the plans," the General said, then took a long draw on his cigar.

Quintus held his tongue on that subject. He couldn't reassure them that the problem was being taken care of any better than he just had. To repeat himself would be showing weakness, something he never did. "The schedule has been sent to all members of The Commission. Our key targets will be all together on the morning of the first day."

"Then that is when we will need to neutralize them," the General said. "Will we be ready?"

Quintus nodded. "Now that I have the exact location and date, we'll send out gas inspectors. That will let us set up the explosives, thereby covering everything under a gas leak explanation for the media."

"Which our operatives in the media will sell as a tragedy to hide any suspicion of assassinations. The oil and gas companies will be in a panic with the heads of all their companies gone, thereby opening spaces for our people to move in and take them over."

A good plan. The old school network would be changed for one willing to manipulate the market and drive up costs of fossil fuels, which would force the government to choose to invest in more sustainable energy, which The Commission just also happened to control—wind, solar and the ever-efficient nuclear options. They'd make money on both ends and control the government at the same time through the people h=they already had in place in the spider-web of bureaucracy.

They sat drinking and smoking for another ten minutes, then each of the other men excused themselves, until Quintus was alone once more. He stared into the fire waiting another ten minutes and watched other club members exit before taking his leave.

He was in his car headed for home when his phone rang. He hit the speaker phone button.

"Yes?"

"Ranger One here, sir," the voice he'd talk to earlier said.

"Have you found them?"

"We're on their trail, but something has come up."

"Tell me."

"Our target stopped at the coordinates you gave us. We checked it out and it looks like someone else went down the mountain and our targets chose not to go down to the crash vehicle but instead trailed another car down the mountain road."

Shit. Who the hell was looking for Zoe besides him?

"How are you handling it?"

"Divided my team and sent two men down to the crashed vehicle and track anyone who went down there first. The remainder are now following the original targets."

Thank God the unit leader knew how to pivot and cover both trails.

"Your mission is still the same. Confiscate the information and eliminate all loose ends."

"Yes, sir."

He hit the off button and turned onto the interstate. Anger and panic coursed through his veins. He needed to let off some steam. He hit the button on the phone once more.

"Darling," the silky voice on the other end answered immediately. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight."

"I'll be at the house in ten minutes. Have someone ready for me."

"Male or female?" the madam went into business mode.

"Dora." She was the closest member of the whorehouse that resembled Zoe. And he really needed to punish the bitch, even in abstention.