The Serpent's Kiss

30

Matt Gray, now wearing an FBI windbreaker over his shirt and tie to cover up the blood, was in the mobile command center discussing events with his superior in Washington, D.C. A slim, blonde female agent was on a phone at the other end of the RV. She suddenly sat up and called out, “Lab’s got this guy’s number. They’re tracking now.”

“Sir,” Gray said. “Things are breaking here. I’ll… yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He clicked off and spun. He jabbed his finger at another agent, a wiry Latino with soulful dark eyes and curly black hair. “Are you in contact with the Nighthawks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get them scrambling.”

Agent Cortez settled into a radio command post and began to talk to the group of fixed-wing and helicopter air support that patrolled the area. Ever since 9/11, the FBI had increased their air coverage, especially in high-risk areas and borders. Detroit not only had the busiest international border in the country at the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Ontario, nearby Dearborn had the largest Shiite Muslim population outside of the middle east. The Detroit FBI had a large group of technical support to draw on.

The female blonde, Sugarman, said, “Cell tracking…” Her eyes widened. She turned to Gray. “He’s here, sir.”

“Here? What the hell are you—”

Sugarman said, “They’ve tracked his cellular signal to within one hundred yards of this area, sir. The Scott Building.”

Gray’s jaw clenched. “In the crowd!”

Agent Cortez, talking to the planes and helicopters, ordered, “Triangulate in this area. I repeat, triangulate to the Wayne State University campus and the Scott Building. Yes, right here!”

Gray was leaning out the door and shouting to his liaison officer. “The Serpent’s in the crowd. Get everybody mobilized. We’re triangulating the phone now! Now, understand! Nobody leaves the area! Nobody! Shut this area down!”

The agent was screaming into his cell phone, dashing toward the communication post for the Detroit Police Department liaison. The DPD had more manpower present than the FBI did.

“We’ve got him!” Gray snapped, thinking that he’d be working in Washington, D.C. by the end of the year if they nailed this guy this fast. “We’ve got him!”