Half-Past Dawn

CHAPTER 29

Larry Knoll looked up at the monitor, the display showing two FBI agents leading a group of three men into the main entrance, and buzzed them in.

In the last ten hours, his post had become the site of mayhem. Between the various FBI, Justice Department, police, and ADA, he wasn’t fully sure what was going on, but the groups seemed to be squared off more against each other than working in concert.

But in the last hour, a semblance of peace had been restored. Most of the various law-enforcement officers had returned home to their families, headed out for drinks on a Friday night, or gone back to their offices to regroup. There was no one else in the cavernous lobby at this hour except for detectives Myers and Reiner, whom he had just let down to evidence to drop off some materials on a new case.

This was Larry’s third double shift in seven days. Not that he was complaining. He needed the money. He had promised Daria that when the baby was born, they would have no debt and a small nest egg to allow them to give their newborn child the advantages that neither of them was afforded. There was a comradery among the double shifters: Charlie downstairs, Nolan Ludeke upstairs in the medical facility. They had come to be known as the musketeers, as the three of them did the work of six and did it better than those working half the time on twice the rest.

As Larry finally turned his attention to the five who walked across the large marble lobby, he did a double take as he saw the face of the man in the middle of the group. He had read the papers, had seen the news, and had actually seen him just two days earlier with his wife. Larry had been devastated at the news of their dying, which confirmed his belief that it was always the good who were struck down before their time. But maybe that wasn’t in effect today.

At 8:25, J ACK walked through the main entrance to the Tombs. Aaron and Donal walked in front, with black bags on their shoulders, while Cristos and Josh were three steps behind. They had run through the plan four times, studying Jack’s hastily drawn map, discussing contingencies. And while there was no further discussion of Mia or the cost of failure, the threat was abundantly clear. If Jack did not succeed in turning the case over to Cristos, Mia would die. Jack had a part to play, and he was about to play it at award-level caliber.

“Holy shit,” Larry said.

Jack smiled back.

“But…” Larry was lost for words. “You’re alive?”

“Hey, Larry,” Jack said as he held his fingers up to his lips. “That’s between you and me.”

“And your wife, she’s OK?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding. “Thanks for your concern.”

“I didn’t hear.”

“No one has, and I need you to keep it that way.”

Larry nodded in understanding.

“We need to go downstairs,” Jack said.

Larry looked the other men over.

“Show him your badges, boys.”

Aaron, Donal, and Josh flipped open their billfolds, flashing badges, quickly closing them up and stuffing them back into their pockets.

“FBI?” Larry said with raised eyebrows, turning back to Jack. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone over to the dark side, too.”

“No.” Jack laughed. “I’m still a good guy.”

“And who’s this?” Larry pointed at Cristos. He was still on guard despite the DA standing before him.

“He’s a member of the Cotis government. I’ve got a real hush-hush case going.”

“Is that what everyone downstairs is after?”

“You might say that. Who is downstairs, by the way?”

“Charlie, he’s always down there; some accountant”-Larry pointed at Aaron and Donal-“and three of their friends.”

Jack glanced at the two. “I don’t think these guys have any friends.”

“Oh, and I just sent two detectives from Midtown South, they’re just dropping off. You’ll probably pass them on the way down.” Larry smiled as he pushed the button releasing the security gate and waved them past. “What about you?” Larry said to Josh, who lingered behind.

“Sounds a little crowded down there. I think I’ll wait up here.” Josh held up his cell phone. “I’m waiting for a call, anyway.”

“Suit yourself. There’s a bench over there if you want it,” Larry said as he pointed to the far corner of the lobby.

“Larry,” Jack called out as they arrived at the elevator bank, “don’t tell a soul that you saw me or that we’re downstairs.”

“Mr. Keeler, once a cop, always a cop. You know I have your back.”

The elevator arrived, and the four stepped inside. Just as the doors were closing, Jack smiled and said, “Thanks, Larry.”

• • •

FBI Agent Joe Perry stood in the middle of the evidence room, thinking of what a misnomer its name was. The vast space was more like a warehouse or a storage facility than a room.

Perry had been assigned as the liaison with the Bureau of Courts in locating the evidence case in the possession of Mia Keeler before her death that morning.

A day earlier, an internal investigation had begun on her possible connection with evidence tampering, but he had his doubts. He had known Mia for several years, and that was something that was not in her character.

After ten hours here on top of his seventy-five-hour week, Perry was done. He was heading home for a late dinner with his wife and would crawl into bed for at least eight hours before he had to return the next morning. He was leaving behind two young agents, Bracato and Stratton, to ensure security. As both agents were younger than thirty and known for their weekend exploits and surveillance stamina, he had no fear of them being able to pull an all-nighter. Holly Rose Tremont, the analyst provided by the DA’s office, was still poring over computer records and wasn’t planning to leave until after nine. She had gone through the several hundred files in cases brought in since Tuesday but was forced to expand her search once someone realized that Mia might have had her evidence case stashed inside another case that was already down there.

Jack pushed the button for sublevel five, and the cab began its descent. The four banks of elevators were separate and apart from the prison facility serving the sublevels up to the fifth-floor medical and psychiatric facility.

“You realize we are all being recorded,” Jack said without looking up at the security camera.

Donal smiled broadly, looking straight into the lens. Both he and Aaron reached into their pockets and pulled out small black key-fob-like devices.

“Nobody sees us unless we want them to see us. You think we’d walk into the lobby of this building allowing our pictures to appear all over the place the minute we leave?”

“So, that’s how you didn’t show up on video when you killed the Bonsleys?”

Cristos smiled at Jack but remained silent.

As the car passed sublevel two, Aaron reached inside his jacket and pulled his gun.

“Absolutely not!” Jack shouted at Aaron before turning to Cristos. “You want my cooperation, no guns. Let me just walk in and get the box, and we walk out.” Jack felt as if he were descending into Hades with hell’s minions.

Aaron shook his head, but Cristos nodded in agreement. “No guns… for the moment. You’ve got two minutes to get the case.”

Charlie nodded to Perry, who stood at the exit from the evidence room, buzzing him out the security door into the lobby. Charlie didn’t much like the overly stiff FBI agent who walked around his domain as if he owned it, talking to his own people with respect yet talking down to both Charlie and the female analyst from the DA’s office.

As Perry left, Charlie smiled inwardly. Despite all of Perry’s arrogance, all of his blowhard superiority, Charlie knew he would never find what he was looking for. As far as Charlie was concerned, he was the one who actually controlled the moment. He was well aware of what everyone was looking for, he knew its exact location, and he knew that no matter how many records people pored over, no one would be finding it anywhere in the database. And if and when they decided to go through every box, it could take them weeks before they found the unregistered evidence box that Jack and Mia had hidden away.

But Charlie also remembered how scared Jack’s wife looked when asked about its contents. When he had heard of their untimely deaths this morning, Charlie knew that it was no car accident that ended their lives. Someone, somehow, gave them a little push. When he had arrived earlier in the day to see the FBI and judicial liaison waiting for him, asking if he knew where an evidence case belonging to Jack Keeler might be, he said he had no idea. It wasn’t in the system. Deny till you die; the phrase kept echoing in his head. It was Charlie’s intention to wait until things died down, grab the box himself, and turn it over to Frank Archer.

But now that Charlie knew Jack was alive, that he was on his way to get the case, a new clarity formed in his mind. Jack would set things to right. That’s what he did. It’s what he had always done.

Charlie turned as two cops exited the elevator and stood at the glass window.

“How’s life at Midtown South?” Charlie asked the two detectives who stood on the other side of the security glass.

“Hey, Charlie,” Scott Myers said. “Always fun.”

“You know, the usual summertime mayhem,” Sid Reiner said as he dug through his pants, searching for his ID, cursing under his breath.

Although Reiner thought his words were unheard, Charlie heard it all, their voices amplified through the speaker under the window. Everyone knew Charlie’s rules. Charlie had always been a stickler for protocol, demanding to see proper ID from all cops and detectives who ventured down into this world-his world-no matter if he knew them a lifetime or a day. And if they were his relatives, he asked to see two forms of ID before he granted access. This was his domain. He was charged with protecting it, and if someone wanted to curse his ass out under his breath for enforcing security, that was just fine.

And with Perry now standing in the vestibule, impatiently waiting for the elevator, watching the exchange with judgmental eyes, Charlie was going to ensure that the FBI understood not only how seriously he took his job but also how strongly he carried it out.

Detective Myers stood at the window, holding his ID up for Charlie to see as he laughed at his partner, who grew frantic in his search. Charlie had known Myers and Reiner for a few years now. They were good detectives, but like so many before them, their passion for the job had faded, their appearance sloppy, their attitudes jaded. Charlie didn’t fault them-after all, he was removed from their world, safely hidden behind a wall of glass. Myers and Reiner saw and dealt with things most people couldn’t imagine and did it on a salary that forced you to live paycheck to paycheck.

As Reiner continued to fumble for his ID, the second bank of elevator doors opened, and to Charlie’s surprise, Jack stood there flanked by three men. Larry hadn’t called down, hadn’t told him anyone else was on their way down. They had spoken not two minutes earlier confirming that Myers and Reiner had some evidence to log in, but there was no mention of Jack or three companions.

It was Perry who reacted first at seeing Jack. He stood there speechless, his mouth half open in surprise.

“Mr. Keeler?” Perry said, his normal confidence temporarily on hold.

Jack thrust out his hand in an election-style greeting.

“I’m glad to see you’re alive…” Perry said as he shook Jack’s hand.

“And you are?” Jack asked, a hint of distrust in his voice.

“Joe Perry, FBI.” Perry looked at the other men, his mind beginning to spin. “I hadn’t heard you were alive. And your wife?”

“Alive.”

“Thank God,” Perry said before reverting back to his old self. “Forgive me, but why are you down here?”

“This is my backyard, Mr. Perry, and you’re asking me what I’m doing here?”

“I mean no offense, but your wife, who works for us-”

“Who is still missing,” Jack snapped back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Perry paused. “But if your wife is still missing… why is it this is the place you come to?”

“Charlie,” Jack called out, ignoring the question and hoping to keep the conversation from devolving into a situation where Aaron would feel compelled to reach into his jacket again.

“Mr. Keeler,” Charlie said, “so glad you’re here-”

“Excuse me,” Perry interrupted. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Jack could see Aaron and Donal getting edgy, exchanging glances.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. His mind was flying. Before a single threat was made, Jack knew that disaster was looming. Perry wasn’t going anywhere, and if Jack was to retrieve the case, something would have to give, and sadly, he knew what that was. “Perhaps we could speak in private.”

Cristos looked at Jack, his eyes void of communication but his thoughts clear.

Scott Myers had watched the entire exchange from where he stood by the glass window and, like everyone else, had that same reaction at seeing Jack Keeler come back to life. But when he saw the body language of Keeler’s escorts, his instincts took over, and he cautiously laid his hand upon the Glock 19 at his waist. Not a second later, a bullet caught him in the right cheek before his hand had a chance to draw his gun.

Donal, the barrel of his gun still smoking, turned it on Perry.

From behind the safety of the glass, Charlie grabbed the phone.

Aaron charged Reiner, whose hands were still in his pockets searching for his ID, grabbing him, smashing his face up against the glass as he jammed his pistol into the detective’s neck, twisting his head violently to the side. Aaron looked at Charlie and said, “Drop that phone if you want this man to live.”

Charlie hesitated, staring between Reiner’s desperate eyes and the face of his red-haired attacker.

“Now, open the door.”

Charlie and Reiner stared at each other, fear etched in the detective’s face as his eyes pleaded for help. Charlie was frozen, the phone still in his hand, poised to dial.

Cristos gave a subtle nod, and Aaron pulled the trigger. The blast of the 9mm echoed in the small vestibule as the side of Reiner’s head splattered the window.

Donal grabbed Perry by the back of his collar; his gun jammed into the FBI agent’s neck and shoved him toward the blood-covered window. Aaron released Reiner’s body and let it crumple to the floor. Donal took his place, shoving Perry against the glass.

“Care to have another go at that?” Donal said.

Charlie stared back through the blood-covered window at Jack, sharing a horrified look as they both stood there powerless.

But Aaron wasn’t waiting. He reached into the black bag on his shoulder and withdrew an egg-sized ball. A small LED device protruded from the malleable substance. He rolled it around in his hand, fingered two small buttons on the LED, and jammed it up onto the bloody glass.

“You are a stubborn one,” Donal said to Charlie. And without another word, Donal pulled the trigger, killing Perry.

Charlie, in shock from the sight of death close up, stared at the Silly Putty-like glob. The moment hung there as he finally realized what it was… and dived for cover.

The small explosion shattered the three-inch-thick window as if it was a wine glass thrown to the floor. The accompanying fireball rolled up to the ceiling and curled back down.

Without waiting for the smoke to clear, Aaron climbed through the three-by-three foot hole onto the reception desk and leaped down on top of Charlie, who rolled around on the ground with shards of bloody glass embedded in his skin. Aaron kicked him in the gut and quickly turned to the console, wiping the glass from the surface. He found and thumbed the red door button. The buzzer sounded, and Cristos, Donal, and Jack came charging in.

Donal shucked the bag off his shoulder and onto the counter as he looked around the room. He reached down to Charlie, taking his gun and handcuffs.

Cristos turned to Aaron. “There are three in there. Clear the room so Mr. Keeler can get what we came for.”

Jack raced to Charlie’s side, leaning over him, running his hands around his body, looking for serious injury.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack whispered before being violently snatched to his feet by Cristos.

“Time to save your wife.”