Chapter 4: New Developments
Wednesday, 6 am"Wake up, Crash. My turn." Jack tossed a pillow at his friend, who was asleep on one of the cots in the lounge.
Bobby came awake with a start, then side-armed the pillow back at him. "You're so kind. Hey, I was going to ask you— how'd it go the other night?"
"With…?"
The Aussie grinned. "Don't give me that innocent look, mate. With Sue. Don't tell me you chickened out yet again."
Jack leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. "As a matter of fact, I didn't chicken out. I told her."
Bobby's smile got wider. "That glint in your eye tells me there was more than an exchange of words, Jack. Spill it."
His friend shrugged, a rather embarrassed smile of his own emerging. "Let's just say it left every dream I've ever had about kissing her in the dust. I believe the agreed-upon assessment was 'Wow.'"
"Well done, Sparky. Now what?"
"Now," Jack replied, the smile transforming into a monster yawn, "I want at least three hours sleep before I have to think about anything else. It's up to her now, Bobby— I told her that whatever happens, whatever she decides, we're still friends, and I mean it. I want her to be happy."
Bobby nodded. "There's that noble streak we love so much." He stood up and stretched. "Cot's all yours. I'm gonna go find a cup of coffee and see what's going on. Oh— sweet dreams," he added with a smirk.
Jack gave him a look and threw another pillow. "Get out of here already."
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Wednesday, 6 am
Seven hours of reviewing evidence later, the images were starting to blur together in her eyesight. Sue blinked and rubbed her fingers over her eyes, then leaned back into the reports. Suddenly, something caught her eye and she jumped to her feet.
Myles was at his own desk, while she had moved over to Bobby's so they could pass the reports back and forth. He jumped slightly when a photograph unexpectedly appeared under his nose.
"Look at this." A slender finger pointed to the middle of the photo as he glanced up at her. "What is that?"
Myles grabbed a magnifying glass out of his desk. At Sue's startled expression, he raised an eyebrow at her. "What? One of these days Tara's computer will crash right in the middle of a crisis, and no one will remember how to use any other methods. I remain prepared."
Sue laughed. "Eagle Scout, weren't you?"
"Still am." He bent over the photo for a few minutes, jotted down a couple of notes, and then handed the magnifying glass to Sue. "You tell me what it is, since you volunteered to be the student today."
Sue moved around to stand next to him and took the glass. She looked carefully, having to familiarize herself with centering the image in the 3-inch circle to avoid the distortions. "It looks like a matchbook."
Myles nodded. "Smoke shops generally give them out, especially with big purchases, like custom-engraved brass cigar cutters. What do you see on it?"
She repositioned the glass slightly. "It got pretty well burned, but…is that a knot of some sort? A logo?"
"That's what I saw. And if I remember correctly, it's a Celtic knot." He sat back in his chair, giving her enough warning before he grabbed the photo and stood up. "Now let's put Tara Tech to work."
Tara didn't even look up as they approached her desk. "After the earlier comment I heard, you think I'm going to help you now? I and my computer resent the implication," she said archly.
Myles grinned. "Hey, I thought you were a cyber-goddess until you got hacked by Crazy Loco. Now, I'm not so sure."
"You hush." She looked up. "Whatcha got, anyway?'
He handed her the photo. "Can you put this up on the screen? We need to get a look at something, and your alter ego has a few more magnifications available than my glass."
"Glad you noticed." She popped it in the scanner, and a few seconds later the photo appeared on the plasma monitor. "What do you need?"
Sue walked over to the screen and pointed. "Right there. The matchbook."
Tara tapped a few keys; the image zoomed in and cleared. "That?"
"That's it." Myles looked at it for a minute through narrowed eyes. "Four-point Celtic knot. Tara, have we got that list of smoke shops handy?"
She handed it to him. "Right here."
He scanned down through the list. "I don't suppose we have an old-fashioned Yellow Pages around here somewhere? An actual book?" He grinned without looking up.
Tara tossed one of her Koosh balls at him. "Yes. I think it's in your favorite filing cabinet over there," she quipped in return.
Sue laughed. "I'll get it. We don't want one of our lead agents to injure himself in the middle of the case."
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Wednesday, 6:15 am"That's it!" Sue's voice was the first thing Bobby heard when he walked back into the Bullpen fifteen minutes later. He blinked when he saw her exchange a high-five with…Myles? They were both wearing delightedly triumphant smiles.
"What's it?" The Aussie asked. Then he lowered his voice to mutter to himself, "And when did we enter the Twilight Zone?"
If Myles heard the comment, he didn't show it. He was too busy jotting down an address. He checked his watch, nodded to himself, then looked up. "We may have just gotten a bead on the Preacher. You awake enough to tag along?"
Bobby grabbed his coat. "Righto. Where to?"
Myles motioned to Sue as well. "We're going to go find the owner of McKennitt Cigar & Tobacco on Massachusetts Avenue, then check out two ceramics supply stores in Arlington."
"Let's go!" Sue's signing was as excited as her voice.
The two of them headed out in a hurry. Bobby brought up the rear, shaking his head and still wondering if perhaps there had been something strange in the coffee.
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Wednesday, 7 amBrendan McKennitt was a stout man of about 60, and his brogue hadn't diminished one iota in the 35 years since he'd left Ireland. As such, Sue found it very hard to make out what he was saying; but when the man found out she was deaf, he was remarkably gracious in slowing down a bit.
"Aye, I've sold many o'these cutters," he told Myles, turning the brass disc over in his fingers.
"And the monogram?" Myles asked.
McKennitt nodded. "Aye, now that's a custom design. I designed that myself."
"It's beautiful," Sue commented. "How many customers have purchased that design?"
"Just one. Senator Frank Matthews. Well, his office, anyway. He orders about a hundred o'them a year— gives 'em out as deal-sealers. His aide is the one who usually comes in to pick them up— gentleman by the name of Rick Orban. Strange sort of fellow, but always polite."
"Strange?" Bobby asked. "In what way?"
The older man shrugged. "Can't really put my finger on it, but the last time he was in here, he seemed…agitated, I suppose. Was going on about some congressman's speech about the war on terrorism being America's holy war or something. Personally, I wish they'd all go crawl back under their rocks and leave the rest of us in peace – the terrorists and the politicians. Hasn't done a bit o'good either way in the old country, if ye ask me."
Myles retrieved the cutter from the Irishman. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. McKennitt."
"Indeed. No trouble at all."
They walked out of the smoke shop and Myles dialed his cell phone. "Tara? Would you please run a trace on a Rick Orban? He's an aide to Senator Frank Matthews."
"Sure, Myles. By the way, D and Jack are both back now, and D wants an update."
The blond agent paused. "Please let him know we've found where the cigar cutter was purchased, and we're headed out to Arlington to check out those ceramics shops. I'll call him with a full update when we get to the first one."
"Okay," Tara responded. "I'll tell him. See you all in a bit."
"Thanks, Tara." He hung up and headed for the car.
Bobby pulled Sue back a little as they moved to follow. He lowered his voice so Myles wouldn't overhear. "Okay, who is that, and what have they done with Myles?"
"What do you mean?"
"Since when does Myles bother to use his 'impeccable manners' on mere co-workers? And what was that in the Bullpen earlier— the two of you are suddenly best buddies?"
Sue smiled and started to answer, but didn't get the chance.
"Are you two coming, or are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"
Myles' irascible tone made Bobby grin. "Never mind," he said to Sue. "Whatever it was, I think it's gone now."
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Wednesday, 10 am
Three hours later, they were back at the Bullpen with more interesting tidbits on Rick Orban. The discussion continued over take-out from a nearby sandwich shop.
"Not only is our congressional aide a cigar aficionado," Myles said, "he also has two rather interesting hobbies— pottery, and speaking out about our policies combating terrorism."
Tara spoke up. "We found out a reason for the latter: apparently, two weeks ago, Orban's sister was killed in a suicide bombing at a mosque in Kirkuk, Iraq. She was part of the support staff for the transitional government advisory board; she'd taken her lunch hour to do a little sight-seeing, and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Add to that," Myles continued, "a speech presented to a joint session of Congress five days ago by Senator Michelle Auden of West Virginia, supporting the President's policies regarding both Iraq and the 'war on terror.' In her speech, Senator Auden said, quote, 'There comes a time when a nation must stand against those who threaten the freedoms we enjoy, and send a message to them: America will not be intimidated; let the war on terror become our jihad, our holy war.' It was met with, understandably, mixed reaction."
Bobby grinned. 'I'd say that gives us enough for a search warrant."
"The AUSA is working on it as we speak," Dimitrius replied. "Those two tidbits, plus the fact that Orban's a regular at both McKennitt's and The Pottery Works...and was in the Army for three years as a munitions specialist. We have our bomber; now we just have to prove it somehow other than circumstantially."
"Jack's over with Marty Pavone, waiting for the search warrant," Myles continued. "We move as soon as he calls."
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Wednesday, 12 noon
"Well, well, well…" Dimitrius motioned to the other three agents in the apartment. "What have we here?" Jack, Myles and Bobby all congregated in the bedroom with him. A chorus of low whistles ensued.
On a table set up in Rick Orban's closet were the makings of both pseudo- and real bombs: wire, timers, clay and C-4. Underneath the table were several handmade wooden boxes, and on the wall above was a map with three red pins, and a handful of blue ones, stuck in it.
D adjusted the camera on his headset. "Tara, you getting all this?"
"All preserved for posterity," came the reply.
"Then I'd say it's time to pay a visit to Senator Matthew's office and create a job opening on his staff," Bobby quipped, grinning.
"Not so fast," Myles said, laying a hand on the Aussie's shoulder. He pointed to the map. "First Presbyterian…Temple Beth Chai…and a third church. St. Vincent's Cathedral."
Jack drew in a sharp breath. "St. Vincent's is right in the heart of downtown D.C. And it hasn't been on SOG's random watchlist. Orban's had a clear shot for two days."
D was already on the radio. "Tara, get ERT over here pronto, and get the bomb squad over to St. Vincent's now. We'll meet them there."
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Wednesday, 1 p.m."Yes, I've seen this man – he repaired our PA system. Some young prankster, apparently, had cut the wires under the pulpit."
Myles' face was grave. "Father Davies, when did you discover that the wires had been cut?"
The Priest tapped his chin in thought. "Day before yesterday, so Monday afternoon. I went into the chapel to go over my homily for Thursday Mass. When I discovered the PA system wasn't working, I called the repair people right away. They told me the earliest they could get here was this afternoon, but your Mr. Orban showed up at about 8 am. He said another job had taken less time than expected, so they were able to squeeze me in. He had what looked like legitimate identification."
"Got it!" A voice rang out, and both men turned to see the Bomb Squad walking down the cathedral steps carrying a wooden box. "It's disarmed – had a timer set to go off at midnight."
Dimitrius walked over to them, and held up a short length of cable. "This was left from the repair work," he commented, handing the cable to Myles. "Check out the cut marks."
Jack and Bobby had come over by now as well, and Myles passed the cable to them after studying it for a moment. "Angled off – like the sliding motion of a cigar cutter would make."
D nodded. "Now we go create a job opening on Senator Matthew's staff."
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