The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology (55 page)

"I think he's going by Johnson this week."

"And next week it'll probably be Jacobsen.
Sometimes dealing with the Company can be a royal pain in the butt."

"Hang on a second, JB. Deep breath, Howie.
Good boy ... okay, they're all out now, Jillybean."

"Rodger Dodger, Carie Berry. Ready to head
out? Oh, geez, this shitbox needs a tuneup."

"When we're done, it'll need a lot more than
a tuneup. And off we go."

"Right behind you, CB."

An hour later, Jill picked up an encrypted
satellite phone and dialed. "Authentication 4873645. Hi,
Amber. We need a helo exfil with a medic and a driver. No, we're
fine. East end of Bonita Beach Road, in the woods on the south side
... yup; we'll come out in a white van when we hear you. Two plus
three, one kneecapped ... he put up a bit of resistance ... plus two
heavy duffels. So not Phyllis with the the Phlying Phantom, Little
PP; it's too small. Can you send Mike with the big one, the
Woodcock? Soon as possible. Thanks.

“And you can call Johnson ... Kaiser?
Really? Geez ... call Kaiser and tell him we'll drop the three to
him in Andorra, usual spot. We've got some good intel, a laptop,
encrypted, two low-level and one mid-level AQs; his boys can wring
'em dry. We'll brief him after we've crossed the Pond. One of the
jets available? Good. And we'll need to rotate out; we may have
been burned by some locals. I think Wayne and Linda would be good,
if they're avai- – oh, too bad. Tokyo? Well, Justin and
Lindsay, then? Great. They'll probably fit in better than we did,
anyhow. And we'll need a full cleanout at the condo. Great; thanks.
Oh, you'll love this. Guess whose picture the AQs had on their
beach towel? Yup, but how'd you know that? Really; hmm. And
there's intel woven into 'em? Okay; we'll take special care of that.
Guess that's it. ETA? Fifteen? Okay. Out."

Half an hour later, Lee County deputies and
firefighters, responding to a report of heavy smoke at the east end
of Bonita Beach Road, discovered a green 1997 sedan with a yellow
beach bag holding some ball bearings, two bricks of C4, detonators, a
timer and a cell phone on the passenger seat parked behind a bush on
the south side of the road and a pile of green brush burning in the
center of the concrete turnaround; the fire was easily contained.

Forensic analysis of the C4, detonators, timer and
cell phone (and fingerprints on the timer and cell phone) matched
evidence recovered at bombings on Miami Beach and Fire Island, both
at noon on the same day, which claimed 19 lives and caused over 150
serious injuries and for which Al Qaeda claimed responsibility.

Other than the prints, it also matched evidence
found by counterterrorism squads in seven foiled plots to bomb other
East Coast beaches on the same date and time, roughly a year after
the death of Osama bin Laden. 23 AQs were taken into custody, not
counting the Mimosa twins' three, whose further interrogation led
directly to the takedown of sixteen AQ networks in the US, Europe and
the Mideast, and indirectly to the elimination of 27 other networks
over the next eight months.

Two days after the Mimosa twins had dropped off
their three AQs, Amber called to let them know they had each been
given a bonus of a hundred thousand euros, as well as a month of free
use of a fully-crewed 39-meter yacht moored in St. Tropez, well
stocked with their favorite beverage and all provisions, which they
enjoyed to the fullest, all the while reacquiring their all-over tans
and doing some successful beach-sniffing with lots of French and
Italian man-boys, some of whom, to the twins' dismay, engaged in
false advertising, stuffing a potato into their tight-fitting swim
trunks, except for one Italian guy, Pasquale, who put his in the
back. “Ewww,” said Jill, when she saw that.

All in all, Jill and Carie were glad they'd
requested that the freezers be stocked with lots of Neapolitan ice
cream and that they'd brought a good collection of feathers and
chocolate and strawberry syrup along.

Monday, May 7, 2012
8:12 a.m.
Bonita
Beach, Florida

Justin and Lindsay pulled their hybrid into the Collier County lot,
having just bought an annual parking sticker at Veterans Community
Park, unloaded their beach towels, chairs and bags and headed out to
the beach. They set up just about where the Mimosa twins had sat for
the previous several months, plugged in their earbuds and began
alternately reading and people-watching while chair-dancing in time
with the whisper-soft music in their ears, the recording equipment in
their bags ready for Jake and Pam's arrival.

“Welcome aboard, kids,” a voice in their earbuds rasped.
“Nice to be working with you again.”

“Hi, Sharon. Been what, eight, nine years?” Justin
replied.

“About that. Have fun, but keep your eyes and ears open.”

-112-

Monday, May 7, 2012

8:30 a.m.

The Oval Office

Washington, DC

Gordon Olin Donne paced in front of his desk, glaring at everyone in
the room. He stopped in front of the CIA director, who was sitting
in the Madonna chair.

“Grant, how the hell did all those AQs get their bombs built
and in position?”

“Sir, I --”

“And on our BEACHES!”

“Sir, the --”

“20 dead, 150 injured.”

Donne punched his right fist into his left palm, then took a deep
breath, reached out and touched Grant's shoulder.

“Sorry, Grant. I've been up all night, sorting through all the
info coming in minute-by-minute about this shit.”

Olivia Meredith Gwynn, the FBI director, said, “Gordy, if I
may?”

“Go ahead, Mere.”

“Grant's people and mine were tracking hundreds of AQ cells,
and even though three of them got through, we stopped seven others
that were on their way to other beaches, and we're already getting
good intel from the scores of AQs we took into custody.”

“And, Mere, you're going along with my intel-over-prosecution
priorities?”

“Yes, Gordy; no problem with that.”

“All right.” Donne took another deep breath and began
pacing again.

“Now, let's focus. What happened with the one on Miami Beach?”

Grant spoke up. “We had those guys under tight surveillance,
following them with an eight-car detail, DD877 on their car --”

John Kelly, the Treasury Secretary, asked, “DD877?”

“Sorry. GPS tracker.

“We had cars ahead and behind on the MacArthur Causeway, but
when they got to Fifth, they ran an SDR, so we had to do a swapout,
and we lost visual on them momentarily. The DD877 went stationary on
Collins, so we ran a car past them, and they were gone, probably in a
new vehicle. The bomb must have been in the new car, 'cause they did
not have it when they left Miami, and they planted it in Ocean Beach
Park and disappeared.

“But they screwed up and drove back to their original car, and
we nabbed the three of them there, plus the new driver, put them in
the interrogation van and drove around the area. Three of them kept
their mouths shut, but one got a little hinky around the park, so we
pulled him out of the van and walked him in there with two of our
agents, and he went willingly enough, even pointed to where the bomb
was and led our agents toward it. But he timed it so that as they
got within about twenty feet, the bomb went off, killing him and one
of the agents and severely injuring the other one; he'll live, but he
probably won't ever walk again. We got them all out of there before
the locals showed up, so no exposure there.

“The bomb went off at noon. Twelve dead, about eighty injured.
We still haven't got all the casualty reports in.

“We've got the other three, including the new driver, prepped
for rendition, I think to Andorra, and the forensics guys are going
over their cars with a fine-toothed comb. We'll break them and go up
their line as far as we can.”

“Shit. One SDR and they're gone,” Donne muttered.

“Do we know where the bomb came from?”

“No, sir, not yet. But we will, I guarantee you that. And
we'll find the builder and the rest of the guys who passed it to the
guys we got. We'll get 'em all to Andorra and break 'em.”

“And the one on Fire Island?”

“Same thing, but no other vehicle or driver. Tight
surveillance, no bomb in the car, SDR, DD877 went stationary, lost
us, picked up the bomb somewhere, planted it, went back to their car
and we got them and the vehicle. That one went off at noon, too, and
they cheered and praised Allah when we heard the blast. They're
going to Andorra, too.”

“Okay.

“And what happened in that little town in Florida?”

“Bonita Springs. A couple of OPUS operatives –“

“OP-U-S.”

“Sorry; OP-U-S.

“A couple of their operatives stumbled onto the bomb there, got
the perps, did a quick interrogation and exfil, left the bomb and
their car for the locals, and gave us a quick headsup. They're on
their way to Andorra with the perps … one's been kneecapped …
and we'll have a full briefing from them there and then break the
buggers.

“The bomb is now in our custody, and it matches some of the
pieces we've recovered from the other two. We'll know more as the
forensics guys dig deeper into that and the car. The locals are out
of the loop.”

Gwynn asked, “What were they doing in … what was it
again? … something Springs?”

“Right, Bonita Springs.

“As I understand it, they were on a private surveillance job,
and just got suspicious and took action.”

Donne asked, “Did you have that cell on your radar?”

“No, sir. We just got lucky on that one. Very lucky.”

Kelly, the Treasury Secretary, asked, “What's OP-U-S?”

Donne said, “It's a DEI company, one of our – their
biggest and best. Private security, high-end, the US division.”

Grant added, “We've done a lot of work with them. Absolutely
the best. And the DD877 comes from DEI, too.”

Donne said, “Do you have any 878s?”

“The ones with audio?”

“Right.”

“Yes, but not enough of 'em.”

“I'll call Wes, have him get you another thousand of those, at
cost and – no, I'll do it on my personal tab.”

Kelly said, “Your tab, sir?”

“Sure. No need to have the government pay for those.”

Kelly and Grant both said, “Thank you, sir.”

“Well, one of those would maybe have given you an idea that the
Miami guys had gotten out of their car.

“And I think you may want to develop some additional tailing
strategies for high-value targets, some kind of counter-SDR tactics.”

“We'll work on that, Gordy.”

“Cody, if you're not too overwhelmed with the China plan, could
you get together with Grant and throw in your two cents, too?”

“Sure, Gordy. I've already got a couple of ideas.”

“Good, good. Okay.

“Anything else I need to know right now?”

Silence.

“Okay, gang. Thank you all. Keep me posted. And mea culpa
for my outburst earlier; I've usually got that stuff in better
control.

“Emily, if anyone here wants a DVD, let 'em have one.”

“Will do, Gordy.

“Gentlemen, ma'am, I'll show you out.”

Once they left, Donne ran his fingers through his thinning fringe,
rubbed his face and leaned back in his chair, breathing deeply for a
good five minutes, his eyes closed, his body, other than his chest
and diaphragm, absolutely still.

About noon, after his televised speech, which both consoled and fired
up the American public, he finally found an hour to catch up on his
lost sleep. Rejuvenated, he dug back into the papers in his inbox,
finding fewer to be denied than to be approved, and fewer of both.

-113-

Saturday, May 12, 2012

8:13 a.m.

Bonita Beach, Florida

”I hope they're all right. It's been at least a week.”

“I'm sure they are, Pam. Probably just took a cruise or
something, maybe visiting their parents.”

“It's odd. I was so suspicious of 'em and now I sorta miss
'em.”

“They sure boosted the EC to AEP ratio on the beach.”

“The what?”

“EC to AEP ratio. Eye candy to antique elephant parade.
They're nowhere near as cute as you are gorgeous, but you gotta
admit, they're definitely eye candy.”

“God, I haven't heard that in years.”

“Well, you know, Pam, I'm no spring chicken. I'm so old, I
don't even remember what hormones ...” Jake paused.

“Are? Do?”

“... sound like.”

Pam puzzled a moment and then laughed. “Oh, good one. I'll
give you a refresher on those later.”

“Oh, I'd like that.”

“So would I.”

“And I'm just figuring out that YOLO thing.”

“Oh, You Only Live Once, you mean?”

“Right. Sorta like a redneck's last words, but for the kids.”

“Redneck's last words?”

“Yeah. 'Hold my beer and watch this.'”

“You're in rare form this morning.”

“That's what she said.”

“She was me, and that was about an hour ago.”

“Well, the rare form seems to be ongoing. You, my love, have a
lasting effect on me.”

“Why, thank yuh, suh.”

“Yes, indeedy, Belle.”

“Okay. Ready to get back to the book?”

“I guess so. My brain is running weird today, though.”

“So what else is new?”

“Why, thank yuh, ma'am.”

“Okay, Tex.”

“All right. What do you have now?”

“Well, I think we need to set a cutoff date for the beach and
the political story, 'cause that just keeps going on and on.”

“Well, with Donne, most of that political shit doesn't happen,
like the primaries and both parties playing chicken, and all the
talking heads and books coming out on both sides, just criticizing
the other team.”

“I know, I know. But I mean, do you want to get this actually
out at some point? If you do, we've – I mean you've got to
decide when to cut it off.”