Andrew Peterson - Forced to Kill

Phelps led them into a large walk-in cooler, turned on the lights, and closed the door. Modular stainless-steel shelving units lined the walls. A few black body bags occupied several slots.

“These three,” Phelps said. He unzipped the bags enough to expose ashen Hispanic faces.

Nathan stepped forward for a closer look. “May I?”

Phelps backed up a step. “If you’re planning anything more than just viewing, I’ll have to log it.”

“No, nothing like that. I’d just want to see if they have any tattoos or other distinguishing marks.” He unzipped the bags. “Harv, take a look.” He pointed at one of the bodies, specifically at a tattoo on a shoulder. The letter S was written across the outline of a dagger.

“Does that tattoo mean something to you?” Phelps asked.

“Yes,” Nathan said. “Can you tell us what you know about this case?”

“At this point we don’t have much, but it seems to have the attention of some very important people. The director of the FBI called me last night just after the bodies arrived. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that as far as the media are concerned, this shooting is nothing more than a random armed robbery attempt.”

“Interesting,” Harv said.

“Would either of you care to enlighten me?”

Nathan removed his ball cap and turned his head to the side.

“Is that what I think it is? That was your house? You were there with Sacramento’s SAC?”

“Look, David,” Harv said, “like the FBI director, we need to keep this under wraps. A very dangerous person tried to kill Nathan last night. We think he’ll try again.”

Phelps frowned, his body tightening.

“We weren’t followed.”

“Is my staff in danger by having these bodies in here?”

A reasonable question , Nathan thought.

“No,” Harv said, “absolutely not. The man these dead guys worked for doesn’t give a damn about them.”

Phelps said nothing.

Nathan zipped the body bags closed. “I’m sorry we can’t tell you more.”

“I can’t share everything on cases I work on either. We have to keep certain aspects of crimes secret to rule out false confessions. You know the drill.”

“We do,” Harv said. “You’re a stand-up guy, David. I appreciate it. Will you please keep our visit here confidential?”

Phelps said he would and escorted them to the exit. They thanked him again and stepped out.

Walking back to Harv’s Mercedes, Nathan spoke quietly. “At least this confirms they were Montez’s men.”

“Versus federal agents?” Harv whispered back.

“I know, it wasn’t likely, but I needed to be sure.” Nathan paused. “Don’t look at me like that. Do you believe everything Cantrell told us?”

Harv sighed. “So far, yeah, I do. But only because she told us so damned little. You know the CIA.”

“That’s what worries me.”

On the drive back to La Jolla, his phone rang. Holly.

“Hey,” Nathan said. “I’ve got you on speaker. Harv’s with me.”

“How’s your head?”

“Okay. How’s the arm?”

Holly sounded excited. “No complaints. We have a hit, maybe the break we’ve been hoping for. We weren’t able to ID any of the dead mercenaries at the scene, but we got a positive hit on the severed finger through Interpol’s fingerprint database. Do you remember telling me to take it?”

“Honestly, no.”

“Well, the finger’s owner is Julio Domingo Ramirez. Eight years ago he was arrested in Chile on drug smuggling charges. He only served four years in exchange for his testimony. Given he was our only hit, I had Henning dig deeper. Ramirez has a brother who owns a small business specializing in exotic textiles from Africa. He leases a small warehouse in Long Beach.”

“Sounds promising. Good work, Holly.” He looked at Harv. “We’re going up there. Tonight.”

“I’d feel a whole lot better if you didn’t go alone. I can get you SWAT support from our L.A. field office.”

“I appreciate it, Holly, but we have to be sure this operation doesn’t leak, especially to the press. There’s no way to do that if an FBI SWAT team gets involved. Reporters can sniff that stuff out. Plus, we don’t know if this will even pan out. It could be an empty building. It’s not worth Lansing finding out that you’re feeding us this information.”

“He already knows. We had a chat on the flight up to Sacramento. He’s okay with my helping you guys as long as it doesn’t involve direct physical support, but I have a feeling he’d make an exception if I pushed.”

“We appreciate the offer, but we have Grangeland. The three of us can handle it. And if we determine otherwise, I’ll call.”

“Nathan.” She lowered her voice. “If Montez captures you…”

“He won’t. Harv and I have an understanding.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We won’t take any unnecessary risks. We’ve got years of experience and dozens of ops under our belts.”

“Be careful tonight, and call me afterward.”

“I will.”

“Montez isn’t worth your life.”

“I’ll call you.”

Nathan and Harv rendezvoused with Grangeland, then stopped by their security company garage to pick up the supplies, tactical gear, and equipment they’d need for tonight’s operation, including tools for splicing into video lines. If they encountered anything other than standard coaxial, they’d have to improvise.

“I know we’re in a time sensitive situation, but let’s go over some things,” Nathan said. He handed Grangeland a spare ballistic vest and black sweatshirt. “We’re not going to get too detailed because everything could change depending on what we actually find up there. But if anything comes to mind, we want your input, okay?”

She nodded.

“What’ve you got, Harv?”

Harv had always been the primary planner for their scout sniper missions, and he’d done the same tonight.

“We’ll take two vehicles. Having an extra set of wheels could come in handy for lots of reasons. You’ll follow Nate and me.”

Grangeland nodded again.

“If we lose you somehow, pull over and we’ll call you on the radio. If you’re out of range, we’ll try your cell. While I’m thinking about it, let’s all put our cells on vibrate right now.”

Grangeland pulled hers from its cradle and made the change.

Nathan’s was already in silent mode.

Harv continued. “I asked my assistant to print us the best Google Earth photos he could. They’re not too bad, but they’re not current.” Harv spread the sheets on the counter and pointed at the warehouse. “This is our target building. We don’t have any street views, so we’ll need to reconnoiter once we get there. I think we should park here. It’s far enough away to avoid headlight detection. Grangeland, ideally I’d like you to cover the rear of the building when we gain entry. Do you see a good place to station yourself?”

Grangeland pointed to a specific spot on the aerial photo. “I’d say here, the northeast corner of the property. It gives me the best view of the dock. It looks like there’s a tall fence along the rear of the property. You can see its shadow. The gate seems to be open in the photo, but it may not be when we arrive. I’ll find a place to conceal myself in case a car drives by.”

“Excellent,” Harv said. “If the gate’s closed, that could work in our favor if anyone bolts. The building has a loading dock, you can see the pedestrian ramp next to it. Most docks like that have one or more roll-up doors for freight and an emergency fire exit, so if anyone runs, they’ll come out of that door.”