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Authors: Jack Rogan

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BOOK: The Collective
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“And he came back early,” Josh surmised.

Chang nodded. “And the potential buyers set off some alarms. Two men house shopping together could mean a lot of things, but he didn’t get the impression they were a couple, and it troubled him that they didn’t ask many questions. Saudi or Syrian, he thought, according to the call he gave us.”

“Wait,” Voss said. “He called the FBI because a couple of Middle Eastern–looking guys toured his house, looking for a place to live?”

Josh shook his head, studying Chang. “No, he called because he got a bad vibe, like maybe these guys were up to something or looking for a place to hide in plain sight.”

“That’s the gist,” Chang agreed. “Colonel Greenlaw felt something was off about the men. On Thursday, he called the realtor and asked if their building had a security camera. It did. Then he called the Bureau to report his concern. With an ordinary citizen, we’d certainly have paid attention, probably even checked it out, and Colonel Greenlaw was a veteran officer with more than twenty-five years in the military. His last post was in Afghanistan. SSA Turcotte sent me to his place of business to talk to him, but Greenlaw hadn’t shown up for work, so I came around to the house.”

Josh studied her. “You were the one who found them.”

“Yeah,” Chang said. “Lucky me.”

Now it made more sense, how the Feds had gotten onto the case so quickly. The state cops had been brought in because
it was a potential terror plot. Somehow SOCOM had got word and stuck their noses in, maybe because of the army connection, and that triggered Homeland Security into sending Troubleshooters from the ICD.

“Are you investigating other possible suspects?” Josh asked. “Looking at a house that’s for sale is a pretty thin motive.”

“Agreed,” Chang replied. “Obviously the state and local police are being thorough, but the Bureau is taking Colonel Greenlaw’s suspicions seriously. The guy wouldn’t have gone to the lengths he did, calling the realtor and the FBI, if he hadn’t felt that these guys needed to be looked at more closely.”

“So do we have video from the realtor’s security camera?” Voss asked.

“We do. The photo images went into the database, and we’ve got other suspicious activity recorded for one of the two under a different alias. We think he’s Saudi. And not only that, but we matched the address on their fake IDs to two additional men, both Iraqi. We’re considering them KA at the moment.”

KA. Known associates. Possibly other terrorists
.

“Saudi and Iraqi together. That’s unusual, isn’t it?” Voss asked.

Chang shrugged. “Whatever their plans are, it’s obvious these guys have shared goals.”

“You think you have a terrorist cell?” Josh asked.

“The last two are legal residents, but both have traveled to Pakistan within the past two years,” Chang acknowledged. “If Colonel Greenlaw’s instincts were correct, I’d guess that those visits to Pakistan involved al Qaeda training camps. But that’s all supposition at this point.”

Josh glanced at Voss and knew that she felt the same way he did. Terrorists who murdered toddlers in their beds? If the various agencies and departments working this case started up any bullshit dick-waving contests that interfered with the investigation or slowed it in any way, they would be more than happy to use their authority and take the reins. Whatever it took to catch the bastards.

“Thanks for the rundown,” Josh said, nodding at Chang.

“Let’s get to work.”

“I thought you ICD guys were supposed to be observers.”

“Didn’t you hear your boss?” Voss asked. “They’re calling us the ‘Troubleshooters’ now. Does that sound like we just observe? Now, introduce us to the brain trust out there.”

As they started back down the stairs, Josh asked, “I assume you’ve got a team sitting on the address the suspects used?”

Chang hesitated, and Josh saw something flicker in her eyes. He swore, shaking his head in frustration. Voss read his reaction and understood as well.

“Seriously?” Voss said. “Turcotte is a prick, but I didn’t expect him to play games like this.”

“We don’t play games, Agent Voss,” Chang said. “SSA Turcotte and his team were about to leave for the suspects’ address when you arrived.”

Josh quickened his pace and Voss followed as he raced through the living room and toward the front door.

“Yeah,” he said, as Chang caught up to them, “and giving us the leisurely guided tour before catching us up on the case—while he runs off to try to take down the suspects—was just him being cordial.”

They left the Greenlaws’ house at a sprint, racing for the rental car. There were plenty of cops still on-site, but Turcotte and the group he’d been talking to, including the guy from SOCOM and the man in the expensive suit, were gone.

“You’ve got this wrong,” Chang said, as Josh flung open the passenger door and climbed in.

“This is a joint investigation,” Voss snapped as she slid into the driver’s seat. “Officially the FBI is leading the team, but we’re not just here to make sure it stays a team. We’re a part of it.”

Josh looked out at her, his door hanging open. “And something for you to consider, Special Agent Chang. We weren’t the only ones left behind.”

He saw her hesitate and hit the button to unlock the back doors. “Plenty of room if you want to ride along.”

Chang’s expression softened, but her gaze was still tinged with worry.

“I’ve known Turcotte a lot longer than you,” Voss said. “He’ll be expecting us. And he’ll be even more irritated if you’re just standing here twirling your hair when we show up.”

“Nala,” Josh said, catching her attention with her first name. “We can help.”

A smile flickered at the edges of her mouth. She locked eyes with him for a moment, cocking her head in a way that he found incredibly sexy. But she wasn’t flirting—she was sizing him up.

“All right,” Chang said. “I guess I’ll go along for the ride.”

She opened the back door and climbed in behind Voss. Josh managed to bite back the innuendo-loaded reply that had occurred to him, but mostly because Voss was sitting right next to him.

Nala Chang was intriguing. No doubt.

Voss pulled into a spot by the curb, a block away from where the police and FBI vehicles were clustered. “What is this place?” she asked, glancing at Chang in her rearview mirror. “Any idea?”

Chang said nothing. She’d spoken very little during the handful of minutes they’d been in the car. Voss wasn’t sure if she’d been so quiet because she thought she might catch hell from Turcotte, or because she was ticked off at being left behind. Turcotte had introduced her as if she were his right hand, and maybe she’d thought that was true. But as far as Voss could tell, the jury was still out.

Josh glanced into the backseat. “You all right?”

Voss arched an eyebrow and shot him a sidelong glance.
Had he forgotten that Nala Chang worked for Turcotte and had just been part of an effort to shake them off? She glanced at Chang in the mirror again, thinking that she looked even more attractive when she was aggravated, and wondering if Josh had noticed.

Of course he’s noticed
.

“Let’s go have a talk with Turcotte,” Voss said, popping her door open. “We can remind him what happens if he doesn’t want to play nice.”

The three of them climbed out and headed toward the tangle of official vehicles that was now drawing attention from the locals. Most of the buildings along this block were storefronts—a few bars, a candle shop, a consignment boutique, a liquor store—but all seemed to have offices or apartments on the upper floors.

Uniformed police stood on the sidewalk and around the cars in front of an empty storefront that had last been a women’s gym. Banners advertising membership deals still hung in the windows, but they were faded and one had partially collapsed. The door to the gym was still locked, a forbidding metal grate sturdy in its frame, but the authorities weren’t interested in the gym. The dead giveaway was the gigantic FBI agent standing guard in front of the narrow door between the gym and the small pizza place beside it. Torn and cracked numbers above the door announced the address as 347, but Voss saw there was a digit missing.

“If Turcotte just found out about this,” Josh said as they stepped onto the sidewalk, “how did he get a warrant so fast?”

“Good question,” Voss replied.

Chang still wore her blue jacket with FBI emblazoned on the back. That must have been enough for the local P.D., because none of them—state police included—tried to stop them as they approached the massive federal agent. Voss had once known a Samoan of similar hue and build, and wondered if this guy shared that heritage. He frowned, making a noise in his throat as they drew near that reminded her of a dog guarding its bowl.

“Make way, Bode,” Chang said. “We’re going up.”

“Who’s this?” the giant Fed asked, indicating Voss and Josh.

Josh flashed his ID. “Homeland Security.”

Bode looked him up and down, then gave Voss the once-over, too.

“Turcotte said no one gets past me, Agent Chang. And that means no one gets past me.”

Voss smiled at him and stepped closer, inside what Bode probably considered his vast personal space. “Honestly, Agent Bode—” she began.

“Bode’s my first name.”

“I wish I gave a shit.”

Bode frowned, nostrils flaring. “Listen, lady—”

“I don’t want to upset you, Bode. Your boss gave you an order and you intend to follow it. That’s admirable. But our mandate—and our authority—supersedes Turcotte’s territorial interests. I’m going to ask you, only once, to please move aside.”

Bode looked confused, glancing at Chang.

“Seriously, Bode,” Chang said. “Get the fuck out of the way. If anyone squawks, I’ll tell Turcotte I gave the go-ahead. But if there’s going to be a dustup about who has jurisdiction, you don’t want to be caught in the middle.”

Bode gave a small shrug. “All right. It’s on you, though.”

As soon as Bode moved his bulk out of the way, Voss slid by him and hustled up the steps. Chang probably should have led the way—Voss knew that—but all the things she wanted to say to Turcotte were burning on the tip of her tongue.

Two federal agents stood guard at the top of the stairs, blocking access to the apartment, although the door was wide open. Forensic techs were already at work turning the place into a mini–crime lab, looking for prints and hair—any physical evidence—as well as the more obvious things like photos or ID, or a big map with an X on it along with written plans for the killers’ next move.

Voss had her ID out as she approached the two guard dogs, but before she could start arguing with them about access, she saw SSA Turcotte walk past the open door.

“Ed!” she snapped.

Turcotte glanced over and a deep frown creased his brow. Then she could see him exhale, surrendering to the inevitable, and he mustered a smile.

“What kept you, Agent Voss?” Turcotte asked, coming toward the open door.

Voss pushed between the agents blocking the door and stood facing Turcotte, wearing a smile that matched his. She held out her arms.

“Ed, it’s great to see you,” she said, sliding into an embrace that he only offered out of sheer befuddlement. When she had him in close, she spoke in a low voice. “I don’t expect you to be happy I’m here, but ditching us was pretty childish, don’t you think? Kids are dead—”

Turcotte flinched and pulled back, breaking her hold. He frowned and glanced past her at Chang and Josh, who had just entered the apartment. If Turcotte was pissed at Chang for not keeping them at Manatee Village longer, it didn’t show on his face. Mouth in a sour twist, he gave Voss a hard look. “Don’t tell me my job.”

Again, Voss kept her voice down. Many of the agents and techs in the apartment were already glancing their way.

“That’s my point, Ed. I don’t want to have to tell you your job. But if you want to pull schoolyard pranks when we’ve got terrorists—”

Turcotte held up both hands. “I give, all right?”

Josh and Chang came closer. The four of them made a small circle, excluding the others. Turcotte gave Chang a slight nod—a combination of appreciation for the job he’d asked her to do and forgiveness that she hadn’t been able to do it well enough to keep them away.

“Listen, SSA Turcotte,” Josh began, then hesitated and looked at Voss.

She gestured for him to go on.

“We’re not here to interfere,” he added. “Believe it or not, in the cases we’ve handled so far, having us around has made things go more smoothly. If a conflict arises between you and local authorities, or another federal agency, we’ll smooth it over. We’ll do everything we can to eliminate the bullshit so you can focus on your investigation. But the only way we can
do that is by being
part
of the investigation. Work with us and we can be very helpful. Fuck with us, and you won’t have to worry, because the case won’t be yours anymore.”

Turcotte grimaced, a muscle working in his jaw. He looked at Josh, studiously avoided looking at Chang, then turned to Voss.

“Simple as that, right? We’re all friends now? On the same team?”

“That’s up to you, Ed.”

BOOK: The Collective
11.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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