Chapter Eleven
The SUV’s temperature was set at a comfortable seventy degrees. The vents were softly blowing the regulated air through the interior, doing nothing to alleviate the concern Grady and Brienne were currently consumed with. This was it. Today was the day this all ended.
Grady and Brienne had spent the first hour of the drive coordinating their arrival with Gavin Crest. His men were in position and they had already scouted the exact access road on which he and Brienne would enter, as well as the assembly site. This, of course, was all being organized in conjunction with the CIA and FBI.
The FBI had been briefed. It had two teams on the ground in two locations in the greater D.C. area, and were now the lead organization overseeing this part of the assignment, although Grady didn’t have to wonder who was really calling the shots. The Agency had no doubt withheld specific intelligence, suiting their purposes and taking advantage of the additional reinforcements brought to bear by both private contractors present.
Everyone was waiting for Brienne to make an appearance, drawing the attention away from the location of Michael Jensen. Granted, this undertaking was already underway, but there were multiple goals that needed to be obtained—the main being to eliminate the cell Qalat and the ISI had managed to infiltrate so close to the heart of the nation.
Grady and Brienne had traveled at least a hundred and sixty miles before the critical update they’d been waiting on came through. The tension in the vehicle could have been cut with a knife, but the ringing of the SAT phone had done just as good a job.
“Starr has given confirmation,” Crest relayed, being their person of contact. Grady wouldn’t have it any other way. “Bob Jensen placed the call in to his contact thirty minutes ago, under the supervision of SSA Telfer. The connection was long enough that the technicians were able to trace the location of the group of men we’re targeting within three meters of their cell phone. Not only were they able to trace the initial call, they were able to track others located in the same general area and listen in to the conversations in the vicinity of those phones.”
Grady was pleased to hear the accomplishment of this morning’s endeavor, but he understood all too well the events that had to take place afterward for this to be a true success.
“Taps were placed on all suspected phones,” Crest stated, continuing with the updates. “Telemetry and velocity data were correlated by mainframe computers that tracked movements and placed the targets in surrounding buildings on a three-dimensional mapping system.”
This was good. Even if the original caller removed the battery from his or her phone, it would be too late to avoid the collateral collection of all the other surrounding devices’ information and location data. Grady appreciated the fact that something was going right today.
“The CIA, FBI, and Red Starr are now en route with precision location and targeting data being constantly updated to each participant’s heads-up display on the intelligence network established for this specific operation. By the time they engage the targets, we should know numbers and likely avenues of approach on most of the tangos. Just prior to their assault, however, each of the attacking forces will go dark and their movements toward the two of you will be unseen.”
Satellites and drones were deployed and tasked now that contact had been made, courtesy of the FBI and the CIA’s Technology and Science Division. The buildings and outlying area where the call had been triangulated was examined in real time, as well as sensors employed for analyzing heat signatures.
Those signatures were cross-checked with the phone and electronic device collections. A real-time situation display of the area would then be developed. The location of Michael Jensen had finally been revealed and it was only a matter of time before a rescue mission commenced after the additional tangos departed to attack the bait vehicle. Things were going as planned, but Grady was well aware it could go to hell at any moment.
“I take it Jensen gave the time and waypoint for Brienne’s return?”
Grady never stopped surveying the area ahead of them, regardless that one of the CSA team members was driving fifty yards in front of their vehicle. Connor Ortega was following fifty yards behind. Everyone was aware that the enemy wouldn’t show their faces until they had eyes on their target. The split seconds needed to identify all the attacking cell members would be crucial.
“Jensen played his part well, but he will still be held accountable.”
That was all Crest would say on the subject. Bob Jensen no longer had a career within the Agency. He hadn’t followed protocol upon his son’s abduction while at the same time putting another agent’s life in danger, though a felony was still a felony. No one, not even Brienne, blamed Jensen for his error. A parent would do whatever it took to safeguard their child.
“Did he sell it?” Grady asked, knowing that was the key to the success of this cleanup.
“Yes. Jensen was able to continue the charade and give them and us the time needed to put several plans in motion. He read the script where Brienne was turning herself into protective custody, but only into the hands of Gus Wilson. The FBI will cordon off the traffic to and from the Key Bridge just prior to the coordinated assault commencement. They are waiting for your arrival in the immediate area.”
Grady continued to drive while Crest gave updates throughout the remainder of the journey. Specific scenarios were proposed and thrown out as they all did their best to strategize the downside of the thousand ways this could possibly go sideways.
“Qalat’s men have now been dispatched and are heading toward the target location,” Crest advised, his announcement also reaching his team. His unit would be positioned throughout the target area to take out those they could positively verify as being a part of Qalat’s cell, but there would clearly be those that slipped under the radar. All of this was being communicated to the FBI’s On-Scene Tactical Coordination Center (OSTCC) and into CIA Headquarters where a maze of operations personnel would dissect every angle of every movement for future recrimination. “Eight tangos were spotted leaving, but we can’t discount there being more en route from another location. They have gone communications black on all cell assets. The locale where Michael is being kept has four tangos left inside—presumed to be heavily armed males.”
The Company usually stayed far away from domestic matters and rarely contributed to missions on U.S. soil, which was why the FBI had to be the lead agency. That didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t a typical hostage rescue mission. There would be no negotiating. The FBI and CIA contracted groups sent in to retrieve their objectives would complete their mission, eliminating every tango in their way. They took care of business in the most ruthless manner…in a way the majority of the population found contemptible.
“Please keep us updated on Michael Jensen’s safety,” Brienne instructed, sitting up a little straighter as Grady drove her closer to their destination. They were now passing by Georgetown University. No one spoke of what would happen should Qalat manage to get a call out to his people here on U.S. soil, either abandoning the plan to eliminate evidence or putting into place something bigger than any of them could imagine. “We’re switching to tactical communications. Earpieces in. Watch the hot mics.”
Brienne handed Grady one of the small earpieces that would connect them to the FBI OSTCC after they disconnected their hands free call with Crest over the vehicle’s Bluetooth sound system. She laid the small device in his palm and held on longer than necessary. He needed the intimate contact and lifted the back of her hand to his lips.
Grady wanted more than anything to turn this SUV around and take her far from here. He had a cabin outside of Ashville, North Carolina. It was hardly ever used since Madison’s death, but they could easily go there and live out their lives without any thought to anyone else.
Who was he kidding? Neither one of them were cut out for retirement and Brienne was certainly way too young to call it quits for the simple life in the western Carolina mountains. As for him? Well, Grady would no doubt consult for the various agencies until they no longer wanted him and he hoped to have a colleague in that aspect of his life. He already had a partner where it mattered most.
“TAC one, this is Echo Five Charlie. We’re sixty seconds out.”
“Copy, Echo Five Charlie. Four heavy tangos in sight north side of the bridge.”
Grady’s grip tightened on the steering wheel in reaction to the summary. That meant at least four more threats remained that had yet to be observed inside the target area. That lowered their odds of getting through this unscathed, but the FBI and CIA teams were crawling all over the place.
“We’re making the right decision,” Brienne murmured, reaching for the weapon in her side holster. Crest had seen to it that she had her usual Sig Sauer P250 Compact chambered in .40 S&W. She confirmed a round was in the chamber and then slowly inhaled to seemingly give herself a moment of calm. “This will all be over in less than five minutes. Then we get to decide what to do with the rest of our lives.”
“I didn’t tell you?” Grady asked somewhat nonchalantly, having waited for just this moment to give Brienne something even more to fight for. She quickly shot a glance his way with a raised eyebrow. “Telfer needs another consultant. Obviously, it’s not as exciting as a CIA field agent and consultants are behind the scenes more often than in front of them, usually going over endless rows of files, but it passes the time. Oh, and the pay might be shit, but you do get to travel on the Company dime.”
Brienne lifted the side of her mouth in a half-smile. The voices coming through the earpieces were updating them on the whereabouts of the four heavily armed individuals within the sights of the snipers’ scopes. Grady continued to drive the vehicle onto the bridge where Gus would be waiting for them in the emergency pull-up lane mid-span. No doubt he was outfitted with a bulletproof vest, similar to what Brienne and Grady had on underneath their suit jackets.
“Is a companion written in that job description?” Brienne asked with not even a hitch to her voice when he stopped a good thirty feet behind where Gus was waiting for them. The CSA lead vehicle continued in the slow lane of traffic and the chase vehicle braked twenty yards back, effectively blocking any following traffic in their lane…of which there was none. The transfer would appear to go as planned until the FBI gave them notice of their assault. They were currently waiting for Qalat’s other men to make themselves known. “That’s my one stipulation.”
“Sweetheart, you can have whatever you want written in that contract,” Grady answered, leaving the vehicle running as he shifted the gear into park. Gus’ face appeared to be set in stone as he stared at them through the side view mirror. “Foxtrot Six, what is their position?”
“TAC One, Foxtrot Six. Tangos on approach twenty yards north. On my count, open the doors on the target vehicles. Five, four…”
The sun was shining bright, the vivid rays making it almost impossible to see in the direction the federal agent had indicated. Grady didn’t like the impediment currently blocking their view of the enemy. Their opponents had certainly done well choosing their advantage point. It would have gone their way had this been a genuine meeting point between Brienne and a colleague from her division.
As it stood, these men were about to be terminated with high-powered rifles with fast expanding mushrooming .308 caliber hollow point rounds. It wasn’t up to them to choose whether they would surrender of their own will or die today. Their fate had already been decided.
“Are you ready?” Grady murmured, bringing up Brienne’s free hand and pressing another kiss to the back of her fingers. He didn’t like how cool her skin had become and he swore when this was over he would take her to a place where the sunshine would make it impossible for her to be cold. Her blue eyes met his with a promise…an assurance she would do everything in her power to give them the life they’d talked about. “I love you, Brie.”
“I love you, too,” Brienne whispered, squeezing his hand before holstering her weapon. It wouldn’t do to give up their plan too early and she had to appear relaxed upon exiting the vehicle or Qalat’s men might react earlier than anticipated. She looked at him one more time before pulling on the door handle. “I’ll accept that consulting position when we’re back at Langley.”
Grady’s chest tightened upon Brienne opening her car door after the FBI agent’s countdown. He did the same, knowing he was on the side of where Qalat’s men had stationed themselves—well, at least four of them.
The meeting was taking place in the center of Key Bridge, giving the FBI the advantage by restricting the ambush to two entry points. It positioned Brienne, to some degree, and other civilian traffic out of the line of fire while also providing the FBI and CIA the ability to spot the enemy on both sides of their likely line of approach.
“Weapons hot. Tangos are bringing their weapons up. Fire! Fire! Fire!”