-1Obsession:
Disclaimer: See Prologue
A/N: Your kind reviews fill me with encouragement and I truly appreciate each and every one of them. Thank you.
Sun Tzu The Art of War
All war is based on deception
Chapter 13:
Thursday morning
7:00 a.m.
Charlie yawned as he came down the stairs. He eagerly followed the tantalizing aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen and as his foot left the last step on the stairway he glanced around the room but it was empty. He continued on out to the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door expecting to find his father there but to his surprise the kitchen was also empty.
"Dad...Dad." He called out but there was no answering response.
He grabbed a cup from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. Charlie took a sip of the warm liquid and sighed with delight. If he had to admit to having a an addiction to any substance it would have to be the coffee bean; he just couldn't start his day without his coffee "fix". Of course, Amita would argue that a slice of lemon meringue pie was his downfall, but he knew that the pie would always come in second to that first cup of coffee that he cherished every morning.
He took another sip and walked over to the kitchen window so he could check out the backyard for his father and sure enough, there he was, sitting on the bench beside the koi pond but it was the way Alan was sitting that caught his eye. Charlie's brow furrowed and he grew worried as he studied his father's profile.
Alan had slumped forward with his head bowed and his eyes cast downward, staring at the koi below him, his coffee cup forgotten on the bench beside of him.
Charlie grabbed a second cup and filled it with the hot coffee before going outside to join his father. He walked slowly so he wouldn't spill any of it and sat down quietly on the bench next to him as he replaced the cold cup with the warm one. Alan didn't respond to his presence so Charlie gently touched his hand.
"Dad?" He scooted over a little closer when Alan didn't answer and squeezed his shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
Alan lifted his head and the young man was surprised to see tears in his eyes.
Charlie's eyebrows rose in surprise and his own expressive eyes clouded with concern as he grabbed his father's hand.
"Dad, what is it? Tell me what's wrong?" He frantically pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. "Should I call 911?"
Embarrassed, Alan reached out his hand and closed the phone before looking away and fishing a tissue from his pocket. He blew his nose before turning back to face his son.
"I'm not sick Charlie."
"But...Dad...you've been so depressed lately." He search his father's face closely, noting the look of despair on his face.
"Is this still about your metaphor the other day?" The young man asked, desperately searching for something that could explain his father's mood. "Because if it is, you know I'm fine now, I don't have the feeling that I'm being watched anymore. You know, I'm sure that was just from the pressure of the finals." He knew he was rambling but he couldn't stop himself, he had to figure out the reason for his father's behavior.
""Char..." Alan tried to stop the rapid flow of words but was unsuccessful.
"If its Don's case...well, yes, this one is a bad one, but I'm sure we'll have it figured out soon, we just have to find the commonality between the crimes and then we'll be able to stop this person."
Alan placed a hand on his son's forearm to get his attention.
"Charlie stop...look, I don't know…..it's….I just…" He paused at the distressed look in his son's eyes and backpedaled. How could he tell him that he still had this feeling of losing one of them when he had absolutely nothing to base it on. "I think I'm just missing your mother, that's all."
Charlie suddenly felt moisture at the corners of his own eyes and he lowered his gaze to the koi pond below him as he whispered. "I still miss her too."
He raised his head again and caught his father's eye but found himself at a loss for words so he opted for a change of subject matter; he offered the warm cup of coffee to him.
"Ah….Dad, I brought you another cup of coffee." Shrugging his shoulders he added. "I thought maybe yours had gone cold."
"That was very thoughtful Charlie, thank you." Alan took a sip and seemed to come back to himself and smiled. "That does hit the spot."
Charlie lowered his eyes to his own cup. "Have you been out here very long?"
Alan huffed. "Long enough for my coffee to go cold." He reached over and patted his son's knee. "I'm okay Charlie, just getting soft in my old age, that's all."
Charlie's head came back up and he looked at Alan with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"You….getting soft, never going to happen." He grinned as he added. "Your much to ornery for that."
"Yes, well, someone's got to keep you boys in line." His father muttered but now his eyes were twinkling too and his lips had turned upward in a smile as he rose from the bench and stretched.
Charlie rose as well and glanced sideways at his father. His mood appeared to be improving, his features didn't seem to be as solemn and drawn as they were a few moments before.
"Come on, let's go have some breakfast." Alan paused. "Do you have to rush off this morning?"
Charlie grinned at his Dad. "No, I can take my time. All I have to do is finish grading some tests and go downtown to the FBI office when Don calls. He's hoping to have more data for me today. What about you….what are you going to do today?"
"It's my day to help out at the homeless shelter, but that's not until later." He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders as they walked back to the kitchen. "So, what's it going to be... scrambled eggs or pancakes?"
"Scrambled eggs." Charlie said without hesitation as the kitchen door closed behind them.
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9:00 a.m.
Megan pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes; computers were great tools but they did make your eyes tired after prolonged use.
"Nothing." She muttered disgustedly as she reached for her coffee cup. She brought the cup to her lips and grumbled again. "Empty." She stood up intending to head for the break room for a refill but as she passed by Don's desk his phone rang. The expression on his face brought her to a stop and she sat down on the corner of his desk to listen to his side of the conversation.
"Eppes." His eyebrows rose as he listened and he looked around, making eye contact with his team. Colby and David immediately joined Megan at his desk.
"An anonymous tip…..where?" He grabbed a pen and began to scribble furiously on a notepad. "Hold on a second." Don shoved the pad toward Megan. "Get the bomb squad over to this address asap. I have a strong hunch that our friend is playing games with us again."
Megan grabbed the pad and rushed back to her desk.
Don resumed his conversation. "Okay, get a couple of patrol cars out there and lock it down. Do not go in until we get there, is that understood... we're on our way." He jumped up from his chair and grabbed his jacket just as Megan re-joined the group.
"That was LAPD. They received an anonymous tip on the location of the armored truck. It's at a port warehouse in San Pedro."
They rushed for the elevator and pressed the button. As the door opened Patrick O'Connell started to step out only to be pushed back again by the team. They filled him in on the way down.
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9:00 a.m.
Charlie was sitting at his desk trying to get through the remaining stacks of his student's finals. Only a few more left to grade and he would have the afternoon free. He only hoped that Amita was doing as well. They had plans to go hiking that evening and he had a very important question to ask her. A question that he had intended to ask her over a year ago but he had been blindsided by an event that had caused him to put it off until now.
Sighing, he opened his bag and took out the little velvet black box that he had kept hidden from her for so long. He took a deep breath and opened it. The ring glittered in the sunlight and he hoped it would shine just as brightly in the moonlight, just like it did in his dreams.
With that in mind, he picked up his phone and hit the speed dial.
"Hi Charlie." she answered. "Have you finished grading all of the tests?"
"Not quite, I have a few more to go, how about you?" he asked hopefully.
She let out a groan. "Millie stopped by to discuss a new class for next semester and she just left, so I'm not going to finish as early as I hoped."
His heart began to sink. "So what time do you think you'll be finished? I could pack us a dinner and we can have a picnic on the trail. I know a beautiful site overlooking LA and tonight there is a full moon, so we'll have plenty of light."
"That sounds lovely. I should finish up here by four o'clock. That's not too late, is it?"
"No, actually, that will work out perfectly. Don said he would call this morning and let me know if he collected any more data. If he has, I can run by his office, incorporate the data, and then head home and work on our dinner."
"Okay, I'll meet you at your place by four-thirty and we can be on our way."
"It's a date, I'll see you later." He closed his phone and with a new found energy he flipped over the next test and his red marker positively flew across the pages.
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9"30 a.m.
Don switched on his lights and merged onto the busy street. At the first traffic light he made a right turn and headed for the 110 freeway with David and Colby following closely behind him.
Once again, O'Connell was riding with Don and Megan.
"Do you have more details on the missing armored car?" The Irishman asked from the back seat.
"Yeah, it's not missing anymore." Don sarcastically replied as he adjusted his earpiece.
"David, Colby are you guys listening?"
They had changed into tactical gear before leaving headquarters. Don wasn't going to take any chances this time.
"We hear you Don." Colby responded while David drove . "Go ahead."
"This is all we know. At 8:00 a.m. this morning the LAPD received an anonymous tip that the armored truck was sitting in a port side warehouse in San Pedro. LAPD checked it out and found a note addressed to us taped to the door. They are securing the area but have not gone inside the building."
Don glanced at Megan. "Do you have anything to add?"
"Only that the bomb squad is being deployed to the area." She glanced at her watch. "They should get there around the same time that we do."
"So you think that this could be another set up?" O'Connell posed the question.
"'Seems pretty clear to me Patrick, especially with the note addressed to us." His eyes met the Irishman's in the rear view mirror. "That's why we are going to let the bomb squad check things out first."
David's voice echoed over the radio. "So how do you want to handle this?"
"We'll check out the perimeter first, see if we can find anyone that might be watching the area; look for people sitting in cars or maybe in boats out in the bay."
The entrance to the I-110 S freeway was coming up so Don checked his side-view mirror and maneuvered the SUV into the left lane and was soon merging onto the highway.
The Irishman leaned forward from the back seat. "You know, this guy has to know that we would be suspicious about the call and take precautions."
"Yeah, I know." Once again Don glanced into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with Patrick. "But we aren't going to take any unnecessary chances either."
O'Connell nodded thoughtfully and looked away. Don's eyes flickered back to the mirror again but the Irishman continued to look out of the side window. He wasn't quite sure what he had seen in the man's eyes, fear or excitement?
He left the highway and took the Harbor Freeway South heading for a thin strip of land called the Harbor Gateway. In the distance Don could see the Vincent Thomas Bridge, a 1,500 ft long suspension bridge linking San Pedro with Terminal Island. Twenty minutes later they passed by The Angel's Gate Lighthouse. The lighthouse had stood at the entrance to the port since 1913. Briefly, he thought how sad it would be if their bomber started targeting the historical landmarks in the area. The warehouse they were headed for was historical in itself. It was built in 1917 and was officially listed in the National Register. The port warehouse was built on a strip of land that was surrounded on three sides by the pacific. The intracoastal waterway ran on the right side of the structure and eventually connected to the Port of Los Angeles.
Focusing back on the case, Don came to a slow stop at the main entrance to the facility. Two LAPD squad cars were parked there and an officer came over to the window and Don identified himself and his team.
"Is everyone out?"
"Yes, sir." He pointed to a large complex on the street they had just left. "We put them all in the convention center, figured it would be far enough away if a blast occurred and large enough to keep them all together if you wanted to talk to them."
"Good thinking. Did you spot the truck?" He asked as he pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.
The officer turned and pointed at one of the large bay doors of the warehouse. "We looked through the windows and saw it sitting in the last storage area. It's parked right in the middle of the floor. It's looks like they abandoned it and there's a note taped to the door addressed to you guys. We didn't touch anything, it's still there."
Don pulled down his sunglasses and looked over them at the officer. "No sign of the guards?"
The man shook his head. "Nothing, we called out but no one responded."
"Okay." He pushed his glasses back up. "Were going to have a look around." As he pulled ahead he called out of the window. "The bomb squad should be here any minute now."
The team split up, each taking a side of the building and slowly drove alongside of it until they came to the water's edge.
Don turned his SUV around and drove back toward the entrance. He stopped his vehicle in front of the door and the agents cautiously walked up to the warehouse. The note was in a clear plastic bag and taped to the outside of one of the windows. Despite the tape, it was seriously in danger of blowing away with the continuous ocean breeze. The agent removed a glove from his pocket and pulled the note from the door. It was just like the others, addressed to his team with a line of numbers written on it. He passed it over to Megan and removed his sunglasses so he could peer through the small window in the door.
"Colby, you see anything?" He asked as the other two agents joined them.
"Nothing but a few fishing boats, how about you?"
"Same here."
They all took a turn looking through the window. It was just as the officer had said, the truck was sitting in the middle of a large open area. Stacks of crates and barrels ran along the sides of the room and industrial sized lights hung down from the ceiling.
Don and the agents turned for their cars but O'Connell just stood by the door and called out. "Aren't we going to go in?"
Don stopped as he was about to get into his SUV. "No, the bomb squad will get that honor. Are you coming?"
With one glance back at the building, the Irishman turned away and hurried to the car.
They pulled back to the parking area and just as they were getting out of their cars the bomb squad arrived in a flurry of vehicles, immediately followed by two San Pedro fire engines and multiple emergency personnel.
Don watched in dismay as a news helicopter flew over the site. "They must have followed the bomb squad."
"Yeah, probably heard them over the radio." She flipped open her cell phone and hit her speed dial for headquarters. "This is Agent Reeves, my team is at port warehouse #1 in San Pedro, possible bomb threat. There's a Channel 69 News chopper flying above us. You need to warn them to stay at a safe distance. Thanks." She closed her phone and glanced at the SAC. "Dispatch is going to take care of it Don."
They stepped back and watched as the squad moved in and set up their equipment. The command center pulled ahead of them and came to a stop a safe distance from the bay door. Another SUV pulled alongside of it containing two bomb sniffing dogs and their handlers. The handlers immediately headed for the warehouse and released the dogs as they approached the bay door.
Two more vans pulled up and six men climbed out of one of them. Two of the men began to dress in protective clothing, covering themselves completely in padded clothing and head gear.
The other van contained a hydraulic lift and the agents watched as a hazardous-duty mobile robot was lowered to the ground. Equipped with a two-way audio system and motorized surveillance camera the robot would be the first to enter the warehouse. The robot's track design allowed it to move easily and it's head mounted video display would show them exactly what they would have to face once the door to the warehouse was opened. At 17.5 inches wide, the robot was narrow enough to enter through the door without opening it completely if it became necessary. Standing at 44 inches high and 52 inches long and weighing 350 pounds, the little robot had on more than one occasion saved the lives of many of the men that worked in the bomb squad.
The Lieutenant in charge of the bomb squad motioned for Don and his team to join him at the mobile command center.
Don removed his sunglasses and hooked them over his vest. "Jacob."
"I should have known that you'd be here Don." He said stretching out his hand to the agent. "Does this have anything to do with the warehouse explosion last Friday?"
Don shook his hand and shrugged. "There's a strong possibility."
Suddenly from around the side of the building a forklift appeared carrying a number of barrels.
Don's team and the LAPD officer's immediately went into action. The forklift was surrounded within minutes by men with guns pulled and aimed at the driver. The man was wearing protective ear gear and quickly took it off when he found himself surrounded by a multitude of men, all of them shouting and pointing guns at him.
Don stood directly in front of him. "Freeze! FBI! Put your hands up where I can see them!
The man put his hands up over his head without remembering to turn off the forklift and he drifted within 30 feet of the command center before realizing that he was still moving. Colby reached over him and turned off the ignition as he pulled the man out of the vehicle. He forced him to turn around and face the forklift, pushing him against it while he searched the man for weapons.
"What's going on here?" He asked looking around, his eyes grew wider as Colby turned him back around again to face the agents. "I didn't do nothing."
"He's clean Don." Colby announced and stepped back from the man.
"Special Agent Don Eppes, FBI." The agent flashed his badge and pointed at the barrels. "What's your name and what do you have in those barrels?"
"What's the FBI doing here?'
"Just answer my question." Don demanded.
"Ah…sure. My name is Randall Bailey and I work here, I'm part of the maintenance crew. There's oil in the barrels and I'm supposed to take them to that warehouse over there." he pointed toward the doors where the dogs were sniffing.
David picked up a clip board from the forklift and read the manifest. He handed it to Don. "The manifest confirms his statement."
"What are you doing here, why didn't you evacuate with the others?" Don asked as he returned his gun to the holster on his vest.
The man appeared a little overwhelmed . "Evacuate…..I didn't hear anything about an evacuation. Why do we need to evacuate?"
"Sir, you can't stay here. There's a chance that a bomb may be in the warehouse."
Bailey's eyes widened and he started to panic. "Bomb….oh my God….I gotta get out of here!"
"Sir, calm down. One of these officers will take you to a safe place."
An officer came over to retrieve the man but Don stopped him with another question.
"Do you have a key to that door?" he asked pointing to the bay door.
I…ah…yes….I mean no, not a key, but a remote."
"Sir, there's a chance there could be a bomb in there. Do you have the remote?"
The man's eyes widened at Don's words. "Sure, it's on my key ring…in the fork lift."
He turned away and grabbed the key from the ignition. "Here…take it." he practically shoved the keys into Don's hand.
"Your going to have to leave the area until it's been cleared. Understand?"
The workman nodded his head furiously. "Yes…yes sir."
Don turned to the officer. "Get his address and phone number, then get him out of here."
"Yes, sir." The officer responded as he took the man by the elbow and lead him to his car.
The two dogs had been pacing back and forth in front of the doors with their handlers when suddenly they both sat back on their haunches and just stared at the door.
Don and his team stepped over to the command center. The agent squinted toward the warehouse. "What's up?" he asked with a nod toward the bay door.
"The dogs have definitely found something. We're going to send in the robot and get a good look around."
Don held out his hand. "I've got the remote, let me know when your ready."
Jacob nodded and spoke into his radio. "Sam, get Haz ready to go."
Colby looked at him with a bemused expression on his face. "Haz?" he repeated.
The lieutenant grinned. "Yeah, we gave it a nick name, it's a lot easier than saying " hazardous-duty mobile robot" all the time."
Colby just nodded his head and returned the grin but it quickly faded as the robot approached the door and Don pressed the button on the remote.
The door slid upward and everyone waited with bated breath to see if opening the door was going to trigger an explosion.
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10:30 a.m.
Wayne Johnson stood at the bow of the little fishing boat with his binoculars trained on the activity at the dockside warehouse. There would be no mistakes made this time because he intended to handle it himself.
"Heads up guys, it's almost time for the party to start." he ordered his companions.
The other two men in the boat continued to appear as if they were fishing. They began to slowly pull in the large net that they had cast into the water. It was imperative that if anyone did remember them, it would be just as an average looking fishing boat and nothing more.
Harold Jeffreys, an African American in his early forties, glanced at his boss while he tugged at the net. " Can you see Paul?"
Wayne re-focused the binoculars. "Yeah, he's talking to tEppes ." He stopped and shared a laugh with his men. "You gotta love the irony here, the bomber talking to the FBI." he laughed even harder. "Offering to help and at the same time planting the bomb that will finally get rid of those pesky agents, not to mention, the LA bomb squad and about a dozen firemen."
"Isn't it risky though, with the dogs there and all. I mean they could find the bomb, couldn't they?"
"It's possible, but they're focused on the other bomb, they won't be looking for anymore explosives until it's too late." Wayne suddenly realized that his men were just standing around talking to him. "Hey, your supposed to be fishing, remember?"
He continued to watch the activity on the dock. The fire dept had set up their hoses and appeared to be ready for the explosion. Wayne was watching the robot rolling toward the wharehouse door when his phone rang.
He flipped it open, listened for a few seconds and answered. "Right Paul, meet us at the rendzevous site."
He closed his cell and turned back to his men. "He's placed the bomb in one of the barrels on that lift, near the command center. Let's move in, I have to make certain that all of the agents are there."
Once the net was secured, Wayne started up the engine and moved the boat closer to the dock. He had to get closer in order to detonate the bomb, a few more feet and he would be within range. He watched as the agents gathered around the command center and his face broke into a grin mentally patting himself on the back. The Fed's were so focused on the warehouse that they would truly never know what hit them. The bomb in the building was just a diversion, something to keep them focused on. The agents were the real target.
He brought the boat to a stand still and his men cast the net back into the water, pretending to watch for fish.
Wayne looked through the binoculars and scanned for the agents. Eppes, Reeves, Sinclair and Granger, were all standing between the forklift and the mobile command center.
He removed the detonator from a side table and a smile played across his face as his finger hovered above the button.