Chapter Fifty Two – Surveillance

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Since Vale and Starling had gone to Assistant Director Pearsall, with the information on Mendez's true identity, Starling had not made any significant progress in obtaining the information to exonerate him. It was more frustrating than she ever could have imagined, working with a partner – or, more specifically, working with a partner who did not know the whole story.

Starling had to be careful to avoid certain aspects of the truth. She had to be careful not implicate herself in Mendez's escape, or reveal that she was in contact with him. She had to come up with alternate stories for how she had come by some of her information. Some of the information she had to miss out altogether, because there was no explanation other than the strictly illegal. And, in addition to these problems, there was the ever-present risk that he should discover any link between her and Hannibal Lecter – who, like it or not, was stuck in all of this, up to his neck.

Starling had talked to the Doctor the afternoon after Vale had found out, and apprised him of the situation. She had talked to Mendez and told him that they now had help – an ex-marine, who was going to help them obtain justice. Mendez had been enthusiastic, but Lecter had gone silent on the other end of the line. Starling understood his reservations. Involving Vale in their plan was dangerous. He was one more uncontrollable variable. Something he might do could prevent her from being able to come home. But it was not something she could change. As she had told her lover, she would just have to do the best she could.

And Vale was not the only added complication. Pearsall was breathing down their necks on the official Mendez case. The information that Ianto Mendez was really Victor Mendez had incited hope in the team. Agents were working double-shifts, chasing down any information on Victor Mendez that could tell them where he was hiding. They suspected a break in the case was right around the corner. Starling felt guilty, watching them slog away hours and hundreds of dollars of company time on something that would never come to fruition. But she reminded herself, it was for the greater good.

They could not catch Woodley through the FBI. The senator had requested one of his men be put inside the team, to keep him up-to-date on what was happening. Any information the FBI team had, Woodley had. If he got the slightest inkling that they were onto him, any evidence he was holding onto would be destroyed. Starling sat back against the headrest of Vale's old pickup truck, a frown creasing her forehead with worry. Woodley was a powerful man. And dangerous.

She and Vale were currently parked just around the corner from the Senator's DC residence. It was a beautiful building, fronted in impressive grey stone. The entrance to the property was through a double gate in the wrought iron fence. It was guarded by a small security booth, which housed two men and enough firepower to secure a small country. Cameras were dotted all over the property and its manicured grounds. The system was good and it ran like clockwork. But luck had thrown them one thing; there were no dogs.

Starling smiled grimly. Systems they could get around. Systems were predictable.

"Damn." Vale muttered, from the seat next to her. "This place is ridiculous."

He was watching the house through a pair of night-vision binoculars, elbows resting on the steering wheel. It was dark and they were parked far enough away as not to arouse suspicion. The car lights were off. The glare of the street lamps on the windscreen was enough to obscure them from view, should someone be paying particular attention, which Starling was sure they would not be. The senator was not in residence, tonight. He had left, earlier that afternoon, for a week of public speaking appointments along the upper east coast.

"Have you seen his pool?" Vale snorted. "Who has a pool in DC?"

Starling hummed in agreement and rubbed her hands together. With the engine off, there was no way of heating the old pickup. It was freezing inside, despite the many layers they were both wearing.

"So..." Vale eventually lowered his binoculars and looked over. "This is the only way in? Over the top?"

"On the west-side. It'll work." Starling assured him. She had been over the plan a million times – worked out the timings down the second. "If you stick with the plan, it will work."

"I trust you," Vale assured her, though his voice was still slightly worried. "Jus' sayin', if we get caught, the whole game's up. Woodley gets sight of any of this and any evidence that's still around will be gone like a fart on the wind."

"Charming."

"And true."

She beckoned for the binoculars and took a turn, checking that none of the cameras along the roof terrace had been moved. It was important that they remained at the same angles she had planned for.

"It's all as it should be." She handed the binoculars back. "It'll work."

Vale sighed and fiddled with the lens caps.

"Listen, I know you don't feel comfortable doing this. Neither do I." Understatement of the year. "But we need that disk drive. It's what got Gabriella Woodley killed and it will tell us why." Starling pulled her parka tighter around her, against the cold. "When I talked to Mendez, he said she found something about his new campaign. There were financial ties to some pretty dodgy guys and the data drive could prove it. All of Woodley's campaign details were on that drive. Gabriella was going to bring it to Woodley – to ask if he knew what was going on."

"But it turned out he was in on it..." Vale shook his head, with a sigh. "What I don't get it why she didn't go straight to the police."

"At the time, she didn't know he was involved." Starling shrugged. "Maybe she thought it was something he could deal with without the police. Maybe she thought they could protect the campaign from such a scandal by handling it in-house. Maybe she thought that he wouldn't hurt his own wife."

"Bad call."

"Hmm."

Starling reached into her bag and pulled out a box of animal crackers, which she opened with difficulty. Her numb fingers refused to grasp at the cold cardboard.

"If she was going to run off with Mendez, why would she care about his campaign?" Vale asked, stowing the infrared binoculars in his oversized coat.

"No idea." Starling shrugged. "I mean, Mendez says she was running off with him, but..."

"But who would leave all this, right?" Vale gestured up to the house, with its sprawling gardens.

"Yeah..."

Starling looked up at the house again. Even under cover of darkness, its size was imposing. The lights in the guards booth was on and she could see the figures moving around. They would not be hard to get past. They were well trained – they watched the cameras like hawks – but they only did a patrol once an hour. As long as he followed the path and timings Starling had provided, Vale would be in and out without them knowing.

Beside her, Vale stretched in his seat.

"Hey, we should get back soon, I told Dee I would come by for supper."

Popping an animal cracker into her mouth, Starling glanced sideways at her partner, suppressing a smile.

"You two still going good?" She was slightly surprised Vale had brought it up. Up until now, they had been so secretive about the whole thing.

"We're good, yeah." Vale looked slightly uncomfortable. There was a pinkness to his cheeks which could have been more than the cold. "Just takin' it slow. She's a good woman."

There was a pause.

"Kissed her yet?"

"Fucksake, Starling!" He fussed around, searching through his pocket for his keys. "Not much of your business, is it?"

She chuckled.

"Not much."

Vale remained silent as he continued to search his pockets. Starling crunched her way through two more animal crackers, dissecting them delicately with her teeth; legs first, then head, body last.

"So, what base you guys reached?" Looking sideways, she tried to catch his eye with a grin.

He ignored her.

"One?" she suggested.

Vale continued to stare straight ahead as he removed the keys from his pocket.

"Two?"

Still nothing. He slid one key into the ignition.

"Three?"

His lips tug upwards into a smirk and he glanced sideways.

"Shut up, Starling."

"So not third base then?"

"What kind of girl do ya think Dee is?" he asked, indignantly. "We've only been on, like, four dates."

"Second, then?"

"Shut up, Starling!"

Despite the tone he was still grinning.

Starling popped another cracker with a sigh.

"Okay. Shuttin' up."

"Why're ya so damn interested, anyway?"

"She's my friend." Starling said. "Besides, I don't have my own sex life. Gotta get my kicks somewhere."

There was another, much more uncomfortable, pause.

"That's jus'..." Vale shook his head, looking back out front once more. The pinkness on his cheeks was definitely not because of the cold, as it had travelled all the way along to his ears. "Thanks, Starling, thanks a lot for that thought."

Starling chuckled again and turned her attentions back to the house.

"So," she brushed her gloved hands free of animal cracker crumbs and stowed the empty box in the back seat. "We're good here? You're not gonna freak out tomorrow?"

"No." Vale shook his head – serious now the situation demanded it. "You do your part and I'll do mine."

"And you think we can make it through the blind-spot in under thirty seconds?"

Vale raised an eyebrow.

"I can. I don't know why you're saying 'we'. Your pregnant ass is gonna be out here, in the car."

"And in your ear." She reminded him. "I'm your way through those cameras and motion sensors. You gotta be listening."

Vale looked over his shoulder, at the laptop and other equipment she had piled in the back seat of the pickup.

"I don't wanna ask, Clarice, but how did you get all that stuff?"

"Signed it out." Starling answered Vale's question with a smile. "...Mostly."

Indeed, most of it was requisitioned from the FBI, signed out for the Drugs and trafficking department. It would be weeks before the paperwork flagged up and even longer before they managed to track it back to her – by which time they would have their evidence, Mendez would be exonerated and Starling would be long gone. The rest of the equipment, Starling had obtained from a man known as 'Jem'. Jem, short for Jeremiah Hollard, was a degenerate thief, who had worked his way across the FBI's radar several times before. Starling had got in contact with him a while back, through some old friends in DC's considerable black market for security information. Jem was doing well for himself. He had even agreed to give Starling some stuff for half-price, for old time's sake.

Vale's eyes lingered on Starling after she had answered. The trust which their relationship used been instilled with was now under a great deal of strain. That said, he was dealing better than she could have hoped. He had not once threatened to shoot her. Not yet, anyway.

"Okay, let's head off."

Starling's partner turned the key in the ignition, having to repeat the action twice before the engine finally growled into life.

"We'll bring the Mustang tomorrow," Starling told him, as they slid out onto the quiet street. "Just in case we need a quick getaway."