O2 11/18
Chapter Ten:
"Soon after Carlyle died I went to Ecclefechan and stood by his grave. It was not a day that I would have chosen for such an errand, for it was cold, grey, and hard, and towards the afternoon it rained a slow, persistent, wintry rain. The kirkyard in Ecclefechan was dismal and depressing, but my thoughts were not there. I remembered what Carlyle was to the young men of thirty or forty years ago, in the days of that new birth, which was so strange a characteristic of the time. His books were read with excitement, with tears of joy, on lonely hills, by the seashore and in London streets, and the readers were thankful that it was their privilege to live when he also was alive. All that excitement has vanished, but those who knew what it was are the better for it."
Don slipped a little in his chair and woke before he slid too far. He'd fallen asleep listening to Charlie read from an unlikely named book, "Pages from a Journal with Other Papers." It sounded right up Charlie and Olivia's alley, which explained why she was listening with rapt attention, and Don had fallen asleep.
Several days had elapsed since Olivia had passed on all that she knew about the missing suspect. The man had been standing just inside the parking garage hidden from the scope of the video cameras but according to Olivia very much composed and in control as the shots were being fired, as if he had expected them. The man had been on the phone and had continued to talk calmly during the gunfire until he got into his car and drove away from the exit that the DAG had used. The license plate was the last thing she had seen prior to being shot and she had admitted that Charlie was right about her mixing up the number 1 with the letter I when she was tapping out the sequence.
The composite drawing had been completed and the resulting sketch had been widely distributed to law enforcement across the world hoping for an ID. The resulting composite looked slightly more German than Dr. Dutch was but Olivia swore it was nearly perfect.
The first press release had gone out that morning and Olivia's security had been upped drastically leaving Don with little to do other than wait.
"Look alive people, we have a hit." Kim's voice came through the hidden ear pieces loud and clear and Charlie jumped at the sound.
"Very covert, Charlie," Don joshed. "Relax and act natural. We've got this covered."
"We have a male at the main admissions desk asking for Mrs. Brecht's room number. He does not, repeat, does not match the description of our suspect. Caucasian, mid to late 50s, balding, approximately 5' 9'' and two hundred pounds. Target is wearing jeans, black work boots and a yellow t-shirt with a logo on it. He is carrying a large vase of flowers."
"What, can't he just be a floral delivery guy?" Charlie asked.
"It's possible," Don answered. "But we take every person seriously. You have no idea how many people gain entry to places they're not supposed to be just by pretending to be service personnel."
"He's in the elevator. Places everyone!" Kim's voice cut through the chatter and everyone in the room raced to get into position except for Charlie who was already sitting.
"Read!" Don urged Charlie as he moved his chair next to Olivia's bedside on the opposite side from Charlie so he would be between them and the door in case something happened.
"Target is on the floor. Radio silence in 3-2-1..."
Charlie began to read again in what he hoped was a normal voice.
"At first the hills were almost black, but, as the dawn ascended, they became dark green, of a peculiarly delicate tint which is never seen in the daytime. The quietude is profound, although a voice from an unseen fishing-boat can now and then be heard. How strange the landscape seems!"
There was a knock on the door and Don said "hello?" from his chair, not rising.
A man's head popped in. "Is this Mrs. Brecht's room? I have some flowers here for her."
"Yeah, this is the right room. You can put them over there." The man entered carrying a large bouquet in a glass vase and placed the flowers on a nearby table.
Charlie began reading again in an effort to appear calm.
"The east grows lighter; the birds begin to stir in the bushes, and the cry of a gull rises from the base of the cliff. The sea becomes responsive, and in a moment is overspread with continually changing colour, partly that of the heavens above it and partly self-contributed."
"Um... Excuse me?"
"Yes?" Don replied even though the question had been directed at Olivia.
"I just wanted to say that the flowers are from the IBEW. We were all big fans of her late husband's work in our field and just wanted to take this opportunity to send our well wishes for a speedy recovery."
Charlie coughed very loudly and lowered his book.
"That's very kind of you," Don answered for Olivia as she tried to look teary eyed at the mention of her late husband rather than respond.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you ma'am," the older man said, stepping closer to her bed.
Don rose and before he could move Charlie stopped him by handing him the book.
"Don, I need to take a break, go get a drink or something. You said you wanted to read next so here's the book, okay?"
Don looked at Charlie. He'd said no such thing and Charlie knew this book had put him to sleep on more than one occasion. A look passed between the brothers unseen by anyone else in the room. Don trusted his brother and nodded, taking the book from him.
"Great, you've been hogging the book all morning," Don lied to let Charlie know he understood his sudden need to leave.
Having handed Don the book, Charlie left the room, excusing himself to the stranger.
"I'm sorry, that was rude of him to interrupt us, Mr.?" Don addressed the man with as kindly a face as he could manage.
"Johnson. Artie Johnson." The man nodded rather than offer his hand and Don didn't press the issue. He was sure Kim was all ready to pull prints off the vase and might even have the prints off the elevator already.
"Mr. Johnson. So you're with which local chapter of the brotherhood?"
"Me? Oh, I'm retired. That's why they hit me up to play messenger. Nothing to do all day, you know!"
Don heard a small blip in his earpiece meaning Kim needed to break radio silence.
"I hear that," Don said to the stranger, also intending it as a message to Kim. "Say would you mind turning on the TV behind you? The remote doesn't work."
"Sure, no problem!" As the man turned to figure out how to turn on the set Don briefly covered his ear to hear what Kim had to say.
"He's not IBEW! Charlie's sure!"
Don removed his hand just before the man turned around.
"Thanks," he said then frowned. The TV was showing a replay of the DAG's abduction with commentary over it. Olivia burst into tears as Don looked pissed.
"God damn TV won't stop showing that!" He rushed over and turned the TV off with a slam.
"Listen, I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson was it? Please let them know that we thank them." Don stressed the 'we' as he rushed to put his arms around Olivia. He kissed her temple and held her close to his chest. "It's okay, honey. It's off now." Olivia pretended to whisper in his ear. "No, sweetie, don't say that. They'll catch the guy, they'll find him."
Don looked up as if he was surprised that the man was still standing there. "I'm sorry but she's very upset. Could you excuse us?"
"Oh, right, right, sorry... Again, get well soon..." the man stammered and rushed out of the room.
Don's earpiece beeped again and three seconds later Kim was back online.
"He's in the elevator. Agent is entering elevator. Agent has attached tracking device to target. Tracking device activated. Target is leaving the building... Target has left the building. Surveillance Team Beta, you are go!
A few seconds later Kim and Charlie came into the room together.
"So, what's all this about the IBEW guy?"
"It's not a well known fact in the world at large but most everyone in the industry would know that the IBEW once sued Brecht and his company for several million dollars. They lost the battle in court and had to pay for Brecht's legal fees, which were substantial. So trust me when I say there's no love lost between them and there's no way anyone from the IBEW would be bringing his widow flowers unless it was to his funeral."
"Good job on the setup," Kim nodded to Don. "Worked like a dream."
It had been Don's idea to secretly load the TV with footage of the incident so that they could have Olivia cry and pretend to talk to Don. The goal had been to let the messenger confirm that Olivia could talk even if she couldn't actually do so. Charlie had suggested playing up his protective nature so it made more sense for him to speak for her. Kim jumped on this and told the two of them to act like they were a couple to reinforce the notion that Don was not there in an FBI capacity.
"Good job with the book." Don nodded to Charlie. "I knew you had something."
Charlie smiled. "O, how are you holding up?" he asked.
Olivia looked tired but nodded.
"Okay, back in position people. We could be up for a second visit by our real target any time now." Kim left the room carrying the glass vase with gloved hands so it could be dusted for fingerprints.
Charlie took up his place by Olivia's bed again.
Don took a moment to sit on the bed next to Olivia. "O, you don't have to stay awake for all of this. I know you're tired. Why don't you sleep for a while and we'll wake you if we sight a new target? That sound okay to you?" Olivia glanced over at Charlie who pointedly closed his book, signaling his agreement. She turned back to Don, nodded and closed her eyes as he pulled the covers over her.