Friday – 6:00 a.m.
Bobby had tossed and turned most of the night, finding it too difficult to "turn off" his always-thinking brain. White and Friedland had both taken their turns at surveillance and Bobby was glad when his shift finally arrived at 5:00 a.m. He had been tempted to call Alex, but thought better of waking her at that hour. Watching as the morning sun finally began washing over the narrow street, he checked his watch.
"Six o'clock. That's enough beauty sleep for you, Eames," he sighed to himself, while digging his ghost-cell from his jeans and dialing.
"Hello," her groggy voice moaned.
"Hey, it's me."
"Hey you. What time is it?"
"Six."
"Well, what's up?"
"I wanted to give ya' a heads up. The Feds are joinin' the party."
"Why? What's goin' on?" she asked, sounding more alert.
"They came and met with Deakins and me last night. They got word that DeMarco contacted some boys from out of State—Rhode Island. They're bringin' a shipment at midnight on Saturday."
"They know what it is?"
"They may or may not… the lead guy's a real asshole…he wasn't too willing to share."
"So they're gonna' take over and handle the bust? That should make Lewis feel better."
"W-w-well, they didn't mention the bust goin' down. They're more interested in surveillance an…"
"What'd ya mean no bust!" Alex demanded. "They can nail these guys red-handed on Saturday night!"
"I-I know…but, they must be after more. They want cameras and mics on the inside. They expect you or Dave to install 'em."
Bobby heard Alex's sigh of resignation. He was just as frustrated.
"I just wanted to fill ya' in. I'd better go."
"Thanks. You know how I hate surprises," she said with a slight chuckle.
Bobby lowered his voice to a whisper, not wanting White and Friedland to overhear, in case they weren't sleeping. "Hey 'Allysen'?
"Yeah?"
"I miss you."
"Me too," she whispered back and hung up the phone.
Friday, 7:20 a.m.
Two men sat in the black sedan outside Alex/'Allysen's' decoy apartment, parked directly behind her vehicle.
In the hallway, 'Allysen' double checked that she had locked her apartment door, patted her right ankle, making sure that her .22 was secure, and headed for work. As she bounded down the stairs, she couldn't help but notice the car – it stuck out like a sore thumb. She could barely keep the smirk from her lips as she muttered to herself, "Geez, guys…why don't ya' just hang a flag on the antennae that says "We're the F.B.I.?"
As she neared her car, the passenger door of the sedan swung open and Agent Warren stepped out.
"Excuse me!" he called, holding up his index finger as he approached.
He lowered his voice, "Detective Eames?" he asked, while grabbing his lapel and opening his jacket to flash his shield."
She gave him a slight nod, while looking to her left and right, wondering if any of the neighbors were watching.
"Please," he said, extending his hand towards her car. "Let's talk for a minute."
Alex unlocked the passenger door and Agent Warren slipped in. As she rounded the car and reached the driver's door, she found it still locked as the agent sat, smugly, waiting for her to join him. She mumbled to herself again, "Hmmm, some gentleman…couldn't even reach across and pop the button for me…Bobby was right, this guy is an ass."
Alex settled in the driver's seat and turned to face Agent Warren, tossing her head towards the rear window. "You think we should be meeting like this," she asked sarcastically. "You and your partner in that car aren't exactly subtle."
"Don't concern yourself with it, Detective," he answered flatly. "People in neighborhoods like this might be poor, but they're not stupid. They know what they're supposed to see and what they're not. They know how to keep their mouths shut."
"Well, what can I do for you? I'm gonna' be late for work," she said with a phony smile.
Agent Warren reached into his jacket and pulled out a small plastic container. He slid open the top and removed two push-pins, holding them in his palm for her to see. "These are wireless devices, Detective. The black ones are the microphones, the clear ones are cameras. There are six more in this container. They're to be placed in Mr. Kyzinski's office and on opposite walls of the garage. Think you can handle it," he asked, sarcastically.
"I think I can manage," she answered, with a smirk and added, "If I can't figure it out, you'll be the first one I call."
Warren reached for the door handle, half-exited the vehicle, but turned back towards Alex. "You can forget the wisecracks, Detective. Just get them installed ASAP. We'll be monitoring."
He caught Alex rolling her eyes as he bent over, looking into the car. "By the way, Detective, you didn't seem too surprised to see us."
"A little birdie told me you'd be coming," she answered, tilting her head and giving him a fake grin.
Agent Warren nodded and slammed the door. "Big Bird is more like it," he muttered to himself as he headed back to the sedan.
Friday, 7:45 a.m.
White had woken up and put on a fresh pot of coffee. He joined Bobby by the window while waiting for it to finish brewing, noticing that Bobby seemed nervous.
"What time is it?" Bobby asked anxiously.
"Seven forty-five. Why? Got a date?" White teased.
Bobby shook his head. "No. Alex should've pulled up fifteen minutes ago. It's not like her to be late." Bobby diverted his eyes for a few seconds to take the mug of coffee Greg was offering and, upon peering back out the window, saw Alex's car pull up. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Here she is."
The two Detectives watched as Alex entered the garage. Seconds later, an unmarked van pulled into a parking space about 100 feet down the block. Bobby and Greg grabbed their binoculars to investigate.
"These the guys we're expectin'," Greg asked.
"Could be. Let's keep an eye on 'em," Bobby said.
After another ten minutes, the doors to the van opened. Agent Warren and Agent Lipinski, now clad in dark blue coveralls bearing the logo of some make-believe plumbing company, exited the cab. Each was carrying a large metallic case which, Bobby surmised, must be their portable surveillance equipment.
"Yeah," Bobby sighed. That's them."
Bobby and Greg continued watching as the men approached. Greg placed his mug on the windowsill and turned to Bobby. "I'll run downstairs and let 'em in."
Bobby sighed and stretched, listening to the footsteps of the three men as they ascended the stops to the loft. He was dreading spending the day in Warren's company.
The noisy chatter of the Detective and Agents as they entered the room roused Marc Friedland from his sleep. He bolted upright at the commotion, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, finally realizing he could relax when Greg began making the introductions.
Warren circled the room, taking in the equipment and amenities. He walked to the window and looked out across the street at Lewis' garage. Talking to no one in particular, he said, "Smells good." He turned towards Bobby, then tossed his head in the direction of the coffee pot. "Hey, Green, how 'bout a cup of coffee?"
Greg and Marc exchanged a glance, silently thinking, "Who the hell is Green?"
Bobby smiled, pretending to take Warren's intentional barb in stride. He poured a mug full of the aromatic, steaming hot coffee, emptying the pot.
Agent Warren held out his hand as Bobby walked towards him, holding not only the coffee, but a chocolate Entenmann's donut.
Bobby, still smiling, walked straight past Warren over to Marc Friedland and handed him his breakfast.
"Sorry, Warrick. We're umm, we're all out."
END Chapter Eleven