Read The Trap (Agent Dallas 3) Online

Authors: L. J. Sellers

Tags: #Thriller, #Suspense, #Police Procedural, #Crime Fiction, #FBI agent, #undercover assignment, #Murder, #murder mystery, #Investigation, #political thriller, #techno thriller, #justice reform, #activists, #Sabotage, #Bribery, #for-profit prison, #Kidnapping, #infiltration, #competitive intelligence

The Trap (Agent Dallas 3) (10 page)

BOOK: The Trap (Agent Dallas 3)
9.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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The group, minus Aaron, was standing around the living room when she walked in. Abby wouldn’t look at her. Maybe she was ashamed of her bizarre threat the night before. Dallas hoped Abby would leave the inner circle, so Drager could pick her up and try to turn her against the others with the threat of prison. If Abby stayed, Dallas would do her best to charm her while keeping Luke interested, but at arm’s length. A mission was happening soon, and she would get the intel to Drager come hell or high water. They could bust the group in the act, and this DC phase of her life would finally be over. Working her way into the group had taken months, and she was tired of living in the capital. Not that she missed Phoenix—the endless city in the desert—but she missed Cameron and Stacie and even a few co-workers in her own field office.

“Are you ready to go?” Luke asked. “We need to get moving. They’re predicting rain for this afternoon.”

“I’m set. I just need to grab some water on the way out.”

Aaron came into the room, a pained expression on his face. “I’m going to the clinic. Anybody need anything while I’m in town?”

An opportunity to get away from the group!
Dallas stepped over and touched Aaron’s arm. “Why don’t you let me drive you? You don’t look well.”

“Thanks, but you’ll miss the climb.” He gave a brave smile.

“I don’t mind. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.” Aaron hadn’t participated in the earlier, out-of-state thrill adventures, so they’d never really talked. More important, she needed to contact Drager. Hopefully, she would also learn more about what Aaron did before she made the call.

“Uhhh…” The tech guy hesitated. Dallas sensed he wanted to say no.

“Oh, let her,” Abby coaxed. “It won’t hurt you to be alone with a woman.”

Aaron blushed and joked, “I just don’t want her to fall for me. Considering I can’t make a long-term commitment.”

Abby gave a polite laugh and looked relieved that Dallas wouldn’t spend the day with her and Luke.

“Let’s all get going.” Luke turned toward the door.

Outside, Dallas followed Aaron to the ugly bronze sedan and climbed into the driver’s seat. After exploring the property the day before, she’d documented the other two license plate numbers in her report and would send it at the first opportunity.

Aaron handed her the keys. “Thanks for this. Most days I’m fine, but every once in a while I can’t get enough oxygen to function.”

“Do you need a tank?”

“Maybe.”

Dallas started the car, which smelled of sweaty blankets and rotting lunchmeat. She rolled down her window a few inches, noticing he wore a jacket and was always dressed warmer than everyone else. His disease was wasting his body, which probably made it hard to keep warm. She backed out, then headed down the long driveway. “Do you mind if I leave this open a bit?”

“It’s fine.” He buckled his seat belt. “Sorry about the messy car.”

“No problem.” Dallas pulled onto the main road. She wanted to ask about his illness and his perspective on facing death, but she decided to wait until they’d talked about something else first.

“Did Luke tell you I was dying?” He seemed to have read her thoughts.

“Yes. I’m sorry. How long?”

“Four months or less. But I’m taking a new supplement that’s helping, and I hope to be around to see some results from our efforts.”

“I hope you are too.” She admired his optimism but doubted politicians would ever make the kinds of changes JRN and the inner circle wanted. How many people really cared about prison reform? With 2.3 million incarcerated, it seemed likely that most Americans knew someone personally who’d gone to jail or prison, but for many families it was a relief when the addict or troublemaker was finally hauled off.

“What’s your background?” she asked. “Why is this cause important to you?”

“My sister was murdered in prison, a place she should have never been. She was arrested at a bust of a drug house, charged with distribution, and sentenced to five years.” His hands trembled in his lap. “Six months later, she was stabbed by another inmate.”

“That’s tragic. Did your family sue the prison or the state?”

“There’s no point. Arlene is just another prison statistic. All because she got hooked on pain meds after a car accident.” He shook his head. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

Dallas made the first turn, without asking for directions, then asked, “Where’s the clinic?”

He gave her an address in Arlington, on this side of the Potomac, and she only had a vague idea of how to get there. But they still had a long drive, and she had time to gather intel. “Luke said you were an analyst. What exactly do you do for the inner circle?”

“I use algorithms to search the internet and gather data. That helps pinpoint which targets to hit to be most effective in influencing outcomes. You know, like political analysts do.”

“Is that what you did before you joined?”

“Sort of.” He reached for the radio and turned it to a classic rock station, obviously done talking.

No problem. If she managed to contact Drager, the trip would be a success.

The medical facility turned out to be an alternative health practice that included an herbalist, acupuncturist, and homeopathic practitioner. While Aaron went in for a vitamin B shot and some other treatment she didn’t understand, Dallas headed for the restroom next door at the convenience store. It would have better-insulated walls and fewer people to overhear her conversation. She purchased several bottles of Gatorade and a pack of spearmint gum, then asked to use the restroom. The woman handed her a key with a ten-inch serving spoon attached. Nice. So she couldn’t put it in her pocket and walk out.

In a small space that reeked of both antiseptic and waste, she called Drager, urging him to pick up, even though the call wasn’t coming from her case phone. She’d given him this number, so he should recognize it. On the sixth ring, he finally did, sounding surprised. “Hello?”

“It’s Dallas. I’m on my personal phone. They monitor my communications, so I can’t report very often.” She stood in the center of the bathroom, not wanting to touch anything.

“Where is their base location?”

“Wolf Run Road. Turn on the fifth gravel lane after Butts Corner.”

“Good enough.” A pause and Dallas sensed he was taking notes. Drager asked, “Was the inner circle responsible for the sabotage of Congressman Bletzo’s fundraiser last Friday?”

“Yes, I was there. It was my initiation. Afterward, they invited me to stay at the farmhouse, but Luke came with me and watched while I packed, so I couldn’t access my case phone.”

“They sound a little paranoid.”

“I think that will ease up in time.” Depending on how long she had to stay with them. She wanted to wrap it up quickly.

“What else have you got?”

“I heard a mention of prison supply trucks.” Dallas bounced on her toes, too hyper for the small space.

“What prison? When?”

“I think it’s just an idea at this point, but they are planning to disrupt another fundraiser soon. Maybe even tomorrow. It may be last minute, but I’ll get you the intel so the team can be there for the bust.”

A pause. “My supervisor wants to take them down for a major crime that will put them away for life. I need you to push them in that direction.”

Goosebumps rose on her arms. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Senator Ray Pearlman is blocking legislation they favor, and he’s married to Stella Pearlman, the head of Safe America Alliance, the perfect target for them.”

“I know exactly who he is.” She’d become well informed on the subject. “The inner circle has already been flooding his email box with calls for change and trying to cut off his funding.”

“Great. Now all you have to do is to encourage them to target the senator or his wife directly, then relay the plans to us. I’ll have a team in place to arrest them in the act.”

Apprehension filled her gut. “What kind of direct targeting do you mean?”

“Something serious, like a home invasion with a hostage situation.”

Holy shit!
“I don’t think they’re a violent group. They don’t seem to have any guns in the house, so I don’t see them getting on board with that.”

“You said they might hit a prison supply truck. They can’t do that without weapons. They
are
that kind of group.”

She remembered Abby’s kidnapping suggestion the first night at the farmhouse and couldn’t argue. “But it’s entrapment if I suggest it.”

“You’re just going to speculate, put the idea out there. In the end, it’s your word against theirs.”

She’d never been in this position before and didn’t like it. “I don’t want to participate in a criminal act that could cause someone harm.”

“You won’t have to. Just push them in that direction, feed us the intel, then get out at the last minute. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“This will look good in your file.”

If not for her ambition to land an overseas assignment, maybe even transfer to the CIA, she wouldn’t care. “I have to go soon, but I wanted to give you another name. Aaron Foster. He’s an analyst and tech support. He’s been with the inner circle for a few months, but he seems to stick to the farmhouse.”

“I’ll run him through the databases and get back to you.”

A shot of alarm. “You can’t contact me. They monitor my communications. I’m in a bathroom at a convenience store and lucky to have a moment alone. But I’ll keep getting word to you, one way or another.”

“Did you find out the source of their funding?”

She’d tried. “Luke claims it’s an anonymous donor, and I don’t get the sense that anyone but him is setting the agenda.”

“What about the judge’s murder? Did you get anything from Maddox on that?”

“I probed the subject, and he doesn’t seem to have any hostility. But it could be that he’s gotten his revenge and feels better now.”

Someone knocked on the door. Dallas turned on the water and ignored her.

“Ask the other members about the Thursday night timing and what they did when they got back from Utah. See if anyone came into the city.”

“Copy that.”

“If things get hinky and you need an extraction, the code word is
liftoff
.”

“Got it. I’ll send a report when I can.” Dallas hung up, deleted the record of the call, and hurried out.

Aaron fell asleep on the drive back, and the raspy sound of his breathing unnerved her. She kept looking over to ensure he was still okay. It felt odd to care about someone she hoped to send to prison. Picturing his frail body and gentle soul locked up with badasses tugged at her heart. Maybe Aaron would go stay with his mother before they were all arrested.

Dallas pulled up in front of the farmhouse, and Aaron shifted in his seat but didn’t wake up. Good. She would use the opportunity to search his room. As she stepped from the car, he opened his eyes.
Damn.

“Hey, are you feeling better?” She stood outside the car and braced against the cool wind.

“A little.” He climbed out. “But I’m going to nap.”

Just what she wanted.
Dallas followed him in. She didn’t have her own key yet, but they’d told her where to find the one they kept hidden outside. Aaron went to the kitchen, downed a glass of milk, and headed for his room. Dallas followed him upstairs, planning to kill some time on the internet while Aaron fell asleep.

For amusement, she searched for reports of the group’s attack on Congressman Bletzo’s fundraiser. The news media were no longer talking about the incident—except brief reports that the police had no leads—but political bloggers were. Which was what the inner circle had hoped for. It was strange to know she’d been involved in a criminal act that made the evening news.

Time to do her job. She tucked a flash drive into her pocket and grabbed her phone, in case she needed to take photos. It was risky to do on her personal Tara cell, but if she saw something significant, documenting it could be important. Dallas walked quietly down the steps and across the hall to Luke’s room. The door was unlocked, no surprise, and after a glance over her shoulder, she hurried in. A quick look around indicated he was a minimalist and a bit compulsive. What little he owned was neatly organized. Not a dirty shirt anywhere.

A laptop lay open on the corner desk, and she sat down to boot it up. A dialogue box opened, asking for a password.
Damn
. She’d expected it, yet it still frustrated her. After five unsuccessful attempts, she quit, not wanting the system to report the errors when Luke logged in next. She might as well get up and do a quick snoop for anything else. A dark rectangular box on the back corner of the desk caught her eye. A backup hard drive? Yes, and it connected to the laptop’s exterior USB hub. Dallas pulled the flash drive from her pocket and plugged it into the hub. The drive came from the bureau and had been modified to automatically copy files when inserted. A beautiful thing.

Fast too. Three minutes later, she pocketed the little flash and continued searching Luke’s drawers. Nothing interesting except a photo of a woman who looked like his mother. Why not keep it on display? She did a quick search of his closet, which held nothing but clothes, shoes, and outdoor adventure gear. No team sports equipment and no video game consoles anywhere either. Luke had spent his young life incarcerated, so he’d never accumulated the things young men normally did. He also kept his room as tidy as a prison cell. A little sad.

Dallas glanced at her phone. She’d been in the room for fifteen minutes. How much time did she have before Aaron woke up? She wanted to search Abby’s computer too, if she could access it. Since Cree was a hacker, she wouldn’t even try his. It might be coded to report any wrong passwords. Hell, he’d probably taken it with him to stay occupied on the drive.

Dallas crossed the hall to Abby’s room, and the house creaked as the wind outside picked up. Was that rain splattering on the roof? Dallas reached for the knob and found it locked.
Curious.
Who didn’t Abby trust? Or was the locked door a gesture to spite Luke?
Whatever.
Dallas went back to her room for her lock-picking tools, which she kept in a hidden compartment in her backpack. Both her purse and backpack were issued by the bureau’s undercover unit, which had created all her background details and paperwork.

BOOK: The Trap (Agent Dallas 3)
9.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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