Chapter 21: An Unholy Alliance
Juarez, Mexico
Jane smothered a yawn as the last link to the three-way call was established. They were in a motel at the boarder near Juarez, Mexico, trying to solve the murder of US attorney Edith Firlock. Long days followed by long evenings pursuing their own investigation took a toll. Lisbon nudged Jane, who sat up and sipped his tea to fully wake.
"Hey, Boss!"
"I'm not your boss," she corrected, a smile in her voice.
Cho shook his head minutely and said, "Just go with it. Boss." A glint of humor lightened his expression. Jane grinned.
Lisbon took charge of the call, hoping to keep it brief and get a full night's sleep. "Where do we stand? Did you find out anything about the dead client?"
Rigsby replied. "A PD friend told me they got nothing useful from the scene. No leads, no suspects. Except what we think."
Van Pelt added, "Looks like a professional job."
Lisbon again, "Probably a dead end, but keep checking to be sure nothing surfaces. – Any new names?"
Van Pelt and Wylie replied simultaneously. "No." "Not yet."
"Um, who are you?" Van Pelt asked uncertainly.
Cho jumped in, "Your counterpart."
"Oh. –Welcome aboard. Problem's a bear."
Wylie said carefully, "I have access to resources you don't have," still getting used to avoiding names during the call.
Lisbon, "Keep working. We sounded out the higher level. Didn't bite."
Jane interjected, "Yet. He's softening."
Van Pelt again, "Any action on the second name?"
Cho took that one, "Think he'll act soon."
"Everyone–" Wylie said tentatively, "There's news about the, uh, first name."
"Yeah?" Lisbon asked.
"He was murdered a couple of states over. The locals have a suspect."
Eagerly, "Can you get us the file?"
"We have jurisdiction. Think I can get it from downstairs."
Lisbon said, "Thanks. We'll take a look when we're back." To everyone, "Next call in a few days. I'll text you."
The call ended after a flurry of good-byes. Cho rose to return to his own hotel room but paused when he noticed Jane staring, gaze unfocused, while he tapped his lips with a forefinger.
"Jane?"
"Huh? –What, Cho?"
"Got something?" Lisbon paused in collecting cups and soda cans to listen.
Slowly, "Won't know without more information. Wonder what Visualize is up to these days?"
"Connection?"
Jane shook his head, frustrated they couldn't openly investigate so long as it was an off-the-books effort. "I could tell if I had more to go on. Visualize and Blake were connected. Somehow." He looked up at them. "When I got my Red John suspects to Malibu I saw McAllister's tattoo first. Stiles made me wait, stopped me from acting ... rashly. 'Course Bertram and Smith also had the tattoo. ... Now why did Stiles do that?"
Ever practical, Cho asked, "You think they're connected today?"
Jane shrugged and got up. "Have no idea. I need more to work with."
Lisbon offered, "I can get an update on Visualize."
"How?"
"Mancini'd know. Its headquartered in Sacramento after all."
Cho looked at them. "After we close this case. Get some sleep for tomorrow."
Tone sharp from frustration and exhaustion, "Yes, Sir, oh Fearless One." Cho looked at him impassively. Jane slumped and dropped his sarcasm. "Solved the case. To close it I'll need a military truck convoy and a tank – or something that looks like one. Oh, and a few black helicopters."
Cho outright frowned. "This a bad joke?"
"No! I need it to get a confession."
Cho smoothed his hair on the back of his head and sighed. "Okay, Jane. Fill us in first thing tomorrow." Cho left and Lisbon shepherded her slightly irritated mentalist to their bed.
FBI Plaza, Austin, Two Days Later
The breeze ruffled her hair as Lisbon placed her call to Sacramento just after close of the workday. The difference in time zones ensured California offices would still be open. She put her cell on the bench so Jane could listen. Then she put forefinger to lips, reminding him not to butt in.
"Gabe, how's my favorite FBI agent?" Jane scowled, but restrained himself.
"Teresa?! Why the secrecy – my admin just said it was a poker pal from the past." After a beat, "Not many left after the Blake round up."
With a smile, "Keeping you on your toes." Their team avoided using last names on all calls for their side investigation. "How are you? And your baby boy?"
"He's great! Crawling all over, babbling up a storm. You? – Oh, and whatever happened with Jane?"
Lisbon glared a warning at Jane. "Fine. We work for the FBI now thanks to you, Gabe."
"Good, I guess. What can I do for you?"
"Curious about Visualize."
"You're a bona fide FBI agent now?"
Curbing her annoyance, "Yeah. Better than police chief in Podunk, Washington. –What can you tell me about Visualize?"
"Lots of changes in the last few years. Bret Stiles disappeared just before the Blake Association mess. Never heard from since. Rumor is he was killed in an explosion near LA. Jason Cooper took charge, then was nailed for – get this – embezzling from Visualize. Caleb Grainger now runs the place. Long time member, don't know much else."
Lisbon glanced at Jane, who made motions urging her to draw him out. "What else?"
Guarded now, "Suspected of branching out into drug running and selling weapons to terrorists. Active investigation so no details."
Lisbon glanced at Jane. He mouthed silently, 'Where's Cooper?' "Gabe, where's Cooper serving his sentence?"
"Don't know off the top of my head. Why?"
"Connected to something we're investigating." Easy, "I'll go through channels if I need to see him. –Hey, I owe you."
"Yep. Pay me by stopping by next time you're in town."
"My pleasure. Thanks again." She pocketed her cell and glanced at Jane. His expression, now usually open around her, revealed the whirring of gears and cogs as bits of information fit into a theory.
Noticing her gaze, "Teresa, we need a meeting."
Rigsby Home, San Francisco, Same Night
It was early evening and Rigsby and Van Pelt spoke quietly as they mounted the steps to their small 'painted lady' Victorian.
"...Nice to eat out for a change, even if this one–" Van Pelt hoisted the sleepy infant higher on her shoulder, "was a little fussy."
"We didn't annoy anyone, right buddy?" Ben nodded agreeably. Ben was staying with his dad during his mother Sarah's honeymoon with her new husband. As Rigsby was about to unlock the door, he asked softly, "–Hey! Did we leave a light on?"
"Don't think so, why?"
"Thought I saw a light in the back," Rigsby said, peering through the wavy leaded glass flanking the door. He frowned, "Take the kids to the car."
Van Pelt urgently whispered, "You shouldn't go in alone–" Her husband waved her silent as he drew his gun and quietly unlocked the door. She grabbed Ben's hand and dragged him to the car.
Rigsby slipped inside on silent foam-soled shoes. Van Pelt waited in the car, shushing Ben and having him crouch down by the floor.
Light flared.
The back door crashed open, followed by the slap of running feet.
Van Pelt dialed 9-1-1- and pulled out her gun. Suddenly all lights were on. Minutes later she startled as Rigsby loomed up beside the car from the dark. They hustled their kids inside and bolted the doors.
Van Pelt put Taylor in her crib. Ben clung to his dad's leg as they waited for the SFPD. The police came, checked out the broken basement door, checked the yard. The LEO's wrote up the break-in but could do nothing more.
Rigsby closed the door as the police left and turned to Van Pelt. Face tight, jaw clenched, "Grace, pack everything you and the kids need for a couple weeks. I want you to stay with your folks."
"Is this even connected to–"
"You didn't see Ardiles. And," he gulped noisily, "yeah, I'm sure. The guy was jimmying the door to the computer room." The metal frame, steel door, and special security locks for the computer room had just paid off.
Van Pelt backed up client files to cloud storage then wiped the drives clean. She took one burner phone and the laptop Jane paid for with her. Suitcases were packed and kids bundled into the SUV. The three of them were on a nonstop flight to Iowa by nine. Rigsby sat in his SUV at the airport, waiting for the prearranged call.
Jane's Apartment, Austin, Same Night
Jane sprawled on his couch while Lisbon brewed coffee, set water to boil, and put out cups and snacks. The late night meetings made for a long day but ensured everyone was available.
Lazily watching her, "Will you relax, woman? You're a perpetual motion machine." He added, "Even though they're impossible."
She stopped momentarily. "Dammit, Jane, it's killing me that we can't actually investigate. Blake is out there, is dangerous, and we're sitting on our hands waiting for Abbott to wise up."
"Hey," he protested mildly and walked over to fold her into a loose embrace. "We're making progress. The pieces are coming together and Abbott's weakening." They broke at Cho's sharp knock.
Looking around, "Just us?"
Lisbon replied, "Wylie said he's coming."
It was a few minutes after the hour and everyone stalled by getting drinks, hoping Wylie would soon show.
The young analyst knocked and rushed in, flustered. "Sorry I'm late. Thought you'd want to know Abbott's team went after Quiñones tonight."
"Everyone, SIT," Lisbon ordered as she placed the call.
"I'm here," answered the familiar voice of their former colleague.
"All of us here on this end. Where's your partner?"
"There was a break-in. I sent them someplace safer."
Cho tensed and demanded, "Everyone okay?"
"Yeah. Found a guy trying to jimmy the computer room door when we got home. Nothing to go on, PD can't do anything."
Jane commented quietly, "Getting nervous. They've figured out someone's hunting them, someone new who knows about the file."
Cho expanded on that, "Main team's been analyzing cases to justify a warrant for the second name. Just got enough to pick him up. Word's out."
Thoughtfully, "Meaning there's probably another mole."
Lisbon spoke again, "Everyone who even might have known about the file is in danger. It's time to get protection." Lisbon and Cho had fallen into an easy leadership rhythm. She led on their Blake effort. Cho honchoed their regular FBI cases.
Cho. "How?"
"Call the new bureau head with a warning. Get safe house protection for you," she referred to Rigsby. "Um, our 'floating' colleague retired to Florida a year ago, so he's safe. Anyone else?"
Jane offered, "Our old tupperware friend." At Wylie's confusion Lisbon whispered, "Tell you later."
Cho snorted, "Will it work given their history?"
"I'll convince them," Jane said confidently.
"Anything else?" Lisbon asked to keep the call focused.
Jane drew a deep breath. "I have a theory..."
FBI, Austin, Two Days Later
Judge Emilio Pérez Quiñones. Abbott pressed his eyes with the tips of his fingers. Unlike Davenport, an overnight operation and redeye flight put Quinones in the Austin detention suite. He dug a bottle of liquid tears from his desk, hoping his eyes would stop feeling like they'd been through a sandstorm before Quinones arrived for interrogation.
His team had rounded up literally thousands of Blake members but rarely got more than a step or two up the criminal ladder. Blake copied classic espionage "cell" structure – isolated groups of 4 or 5 low-level members. They couldn't betray what they didn't know, and they knew neither other cells nor the identity of upper levels. How the hell did Jane come up with two leads to higher level Blake? Jane has some explaining to do when I'm done with Quiñones. His phone jarred him out of his reverie.
"Abbott ... What?! Quiñones died?... Jackson'll live? ... The driver?" Abbott slammed his open palm on his desk.
Cho, Lisbon and Jane, Restaurant, Austin
Cho, Lisbon and Jane found a quiet restaurant for lunch.
Orders placed, Cho abruptly started. "Abbott picked up Quiñones last night, brought him to Austin for questioning." Wylie had said that was in motion during their call. "Quiñones died this morning. Car ran him over in front of Hotel FBI."
Lisbon straightened. "How? It's protected by concrete planters."
Grimly, "MiniCooper. Just narrow enough to fit between."
Jane said sarcastically, "What a coincidence."
Lisbon probed for details. "The driver?"
"Apparent heart attack. Dead when they got to him. Agent Levy has scrapes and bruises. Jackson's hospitalized, don't know how bad he was injured."
She looked at the two men, "Any chance it was an accident?"
Cho answered first. "Doubt it. Driver just happens to lose control when Quiñones is being escorted out. Car just happens to fit through the barriers. Driver just happens to die of a heart attack. Both Blake members we fed Abbott dead before they can be questioned?" Jane nodded his agreement.
Slowly, Lisbon offered, "And Davenport's murderer happens to live at a Visualize address. Not accidents. But this latest attack is awfully ambitious for Blake or Visualize."
Cho agreed. "More like a military special op. I don't know what the hell is going on."
Jane said slowly, "That's the last piece." He looked from Lisbon to Cho. "When I was on the island, a friend warned me someone was looking for me. Visualize materials were in his suitcase. Visualize couldn't act because everyone knows everybody in that small village. That's why Abbott was forced to fetch me, make me accessible. When I got here, detention prevented access till I got out–"
"–When someone tried to run you over," Cho added.
Jane nodded. "Blake got control of Visualize. Stiles died in the Malibu explosion. Jason Cooper was ... probably framed for embezzlement, which let – who was that?"
"-Caleb Grainger," Lisbon filled in.
"–Grainger step in. Grainger is allied with Blake. Stiles and Cooper would never jeopardize Visualize by dealing with terrorists. Blake doesn't care, maybe is just greedier. So Visualize members replace the Blake members Abbott rounded up to keep the money flowing."
Cho asked skeptically, "Visualize members would go along with criminal activity?"
Excitedly, "Not all! Maybe not most. They'd follow orders, but aren't trained law enforcement, aren't familiar with weapons. That's why Visualize's now running weapons and drugs. Main requirement is secrecy and transportation, something Visualize members would do."
"Visualize apparently killed Davenport. Who got Quiñones?"
Jane looked at them. "You agree that looks like a special op by a trained professional?" They nodded. Jane closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. "Abbot's got more than a mole problem. Blake has agents in the FBI – and maybe other Homeland arms. They did this and probably Ardiles."
"-Damn."
"–Crap, how will we ever get them?"
Slowly, "Not Abbott's way. I have some ideas."