Take Down (The Men of the Sisterhood) (6 page)

The moment the heavy security door slammed shut behind him, Jack knew it was literally showtime. They’d talked it all up one side and down the other until they were breathless to get moving and make it all a reality. He sucked in a breath of the frigid air, then coughed. He felt naked without Cyrus at his side, and he said so aloud.

“What are
we,
chopped liver?” Maggie squawked as she looped a cherry red scarf around her neck.

“You know what I mean, Maggie. I’m just used to having Cyrus next to me. Maybe we could have brought him and given him a badge, like the cops do with the K-nines. Where’s the van?” Jack asked, looking around.

“We’re taking my Humvee instead. Ted moved the van out front. The Humvee heats up in a matter of seconds. Best vehicle on the road for this kind of weather,” Dennis said.

Jack looked up at the scudding gray clouds racing across the sky. An hour ago, there had been a little bit of blue sky and a thin, watery sun. But now the sky was totally gray and dismal. Off in the distance, he could hear a dog barking, then the alley went silent as Dennis unlocked the door of the Humvee and climbed in. As Jack and Maggie entered the vehicle, the snow equipment at the other end of the back alley kicked in with a roar that was deafening until they closed the doors.

Dennis pressed the starter in his keyless Humvee and the engine growled to life. “I have a great GPS, so key in the address, Jack. We all good to go here?”

“We are good,” Maggie said as she loosened the scarf she had just tied around her neck. Then she looked at her watch and mentally calculated the coming activities and how long before she’d be home safe and warm in her own bed. Like she would really be able to sleep anytime soon with the way her adrenaline was running. Maybe she’d never be able to sleep again and she’d wither away and die.

She hated thoughts like these and struggled to remember the last romp in the sack with Ted, after they’d left the Christmas party at Jack’s. A low, purring sound escaped her lips. Jack looked up from what he was doing and grinned. Maggie was oblivious to his glance.

Dennis backed down the alley, clicked the remote on his visor, waited for the iron gates to open, and sailed out just as the car’s heat came on full blast. “How’s that for instant gratification?” he chortled happily.

“Nice set of wheels, kid,” Jack mumbled as he continued to key in the address of Andover Pharmaceuticals. Maggie stared out at the rapidly darkening afternoon, her thoughts on Ted’s sexual prowess.

“Traffic’s kind of light for this hour of the day. We should make good time once we get out of town. I’ve been thinking: Even if Andover lets its employees out early because of the snow forecast, we still won’t have a problem. Someone from Security will still be there. That in itself might work to our advantage. What do you think, Jack?” Dennis asked as he skillfully maneuvered the Humvee around several cars that were driving too slowly for his liking. Dennis West was a man with a mission, and he was not going to allow anything, including slow-moving cars, to get in his way.

“I agree. What about you, Maggie? What do you think?” Jack asked.

“I think it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other. Either way, we’re more than capable of handling whatever is handed to us. I will tell you what I
am
worried about, though. Look at the sky. It’s getting darker by the minute. I think we should turn the guys loose and let them head for our primary targets
now.
Ted and Espinosa can take Philip. Harry should have arrived at the BOLO Building by now—he was already on his way when we left—and he and Abner can do the snatch on Otto, and the three of us can take Martha since she lives the closest to the company headquarters. Then we all head for the farm as soon as we’ve done the snatches and grabs. Don’t look at me like that, Jack. I really think that’s what we should do.”

Dennis froze. “Oh, jeez, still another change in plans. That makes two. The third one will be the charm. Everyone knows that saying, but with what we’re doing, I don’t think the word
charm
is exactly the right one. I see this all going to hell really quickly,” Dennis said in a jittery-sounding voice.

“You’re dithering again,” Jack pointed out. “And FBI agents do not dither. Not ever. Keep your eyes on the road, kid, and stop worrying. Maggie has a point. Points need to be addressed as they come up. I’m giving you permission to take your eyes off the road for two seconds. Look at the sky, Dennis!”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. I get it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. So what if I’m a natural-born worrywart? So is my mother, so I come by it honestly enough.

“Okay, okay. I see your point, but I’m still going to worry. How much farther, Jack?”

Jack pressed some buttons. “Eight miles. Straight road.”

“Since you agree with me, I’m calling the guys now, Jack. If I’m wrong, tell me now, before I make the call.”

“Make the damn call, Maggie.”

After spending five minutes having two separate conversations with the guys back at the BOLO Building, she was ready to report to Jack. “Ted is going to take the other three and go to the
Post
to sign out a four-wheel drive for Harry and Abner to use. Harry said that your car was all over the road. He also squawked about having to wear a suit, shirt, and tie.

“Abner is going as is, Harry said, because he said he’s scary-looking and no one will question him. And, anyway, he doesn’t have a suit at the office. Just so you know, Harry will be the power player in that duo. It’s all doable, Jack.”

“Two miles, Dennis. And it’s starting to snow,” Jack said as he craned his neck to stare up and out of the windshield.

Dennis’s voice was still jittery when he said, “I hope you are both noticing that no plows have been out this way recently.”

“Maybe Andover has its own maintenance crews and they just haven’t gotten to this stretch of the road. I see a sign up ahead, so slow down. I want you to pull right up in front of the building. If there is a guard station, I want you to let me do the talking, unless it’s something you really want to do. Don’t panic if you see me get out of the car. These guys are usually rent-a-cops, and I think I can handle them. What’s it going to be, kid?”

“Hey, I’m just Special Agent Donald Ryder. The newbie who’s driving. Everybody knows that the driver is always low man on the totem pole. You’re right, Jack. I can see the security hut from here, as well as the fence.” Dennis eased up on the gas pedal as he fumbled in his pocket for his FBI credentials. He could see that Jack already had his credentials in his hand. A quick glance into the rearview mirror showed Maggie waving hers for his benefit.

Dennis eased up even more on the gas pedal and coasted to a stop in front of the security hut. A man in uniform stepped out and held up his hand. Dennis rolled down his window just as Jack climbed out of the car to walk around to where the guard stood. He flipped open his billfold like he’d been doing it for years.

“FBI. I’m Special Agent Anthony Lupine. The driver is Special Agent Donald Ryder, and the agent in back is Special Agent Lucinda Collins. We’d like permission to enter the premises, but I need to tell you, we’re going in with or without your permission. We have a warrant,” he said, waving a folded sheet of paper he’d withdrawn from the inside of his suit jacket.

The guard, whose name tag said he was Arthur Spinelli, took his time looking at the credentials before he said, “I have to call Security.”

“No, Mr. Spinelli, you do not have to call Security because we do not want you to do that. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Maybe you don’t understand what a warrant is. This piece of paper says I can do whatever I want when I want to do it. No one gets the opportunity to hide what we are looking for before we get in there. So, what’s it going to be? The easy way or the hard way?”

“I can lose my job if I don’t call you in. I need this job.”

“Lucinda!”

Maggie was out of the car in a nanosecond and inside the hut, where she quickly ripped out the monitor and the phone, then demanded that Mr. Spinelli hand over his cell phone. But not before she patted him down for any weapons.

“Hey, you can’t do that!”

“I just did. Now, come in here so I can tell you what you are going to do and not do. We can’t have you alerting anyone of our presence until we want it known. We can arrest you right here on the spot and hold you for seventy-two hours. Think about it. What’s that going to do to your New Year’s Eve plans?”

Maggie looked over at Jack. “What do you want to do about him? We can open the gates and leave them open for anyone arriving or leaving.”

Jack walked over to the Humvee and lowered his voice. “Does this nifty set of wheels have any kind of special locking devices? Like can we park this guy in it and feel safe he can’t get out till we finish up our business?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if he leans on the horn?” Jack asked as he looked at his watch.

“Jack, once this baby powers down, it’s like Fort Knox. No in, no out; not until I press the code on my remote. Dump him in.”

That was all Jack needed to hear. He opened the door of the hut and pushed the guard into the back of the Humvee. “Sorry about this, Mr. Spinelli, but in the interests of national security, we have to do this.” He called over his shoulder to have Maggie open the massive gates. “And make sure you lock the door so no one can get into the hut.” Jack was back in the Humvee within seconds. Maggie joined him within minutes.

“What’s going on?” the guard asked in a shaking voice.

Jack turned around and said, in a voice filled with menace, “You should know better than to ask a question like that of an FBI Special Agent. As they say in that other agency whose name shall not pass my lips, if I told you, I’d have to kill you. Now just sit there and be quiet. When we finish here, we will release you. Tell me you understand what I just said.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Good.”

Jack stared at the Andover Building, marveling at the massive structure. It was lit up from top to bottom. Even from where he was sitting, he could see a glittery Christmas tree in the cavernous foyer.

It was fully dark now and it was barely four o’clock. Snow was falling steadily. To his right, he could hear the sounds of muffled car engines as people warmed up their cars in the parking lot in preparation to leave.

“Showtime,” Jack said under his breath as he exited the Humvee, with Maggie right behind him. Dennis was the last to exit, then made a production of locking in the security guard.

The trio marched up the three steps that led to oversize plate-glass doors. The twinkling Christmas tree was beautiful; a work of art, actually. At the door, Jack said, “Okay, everyone, take a deep breath. Dennis, get that open line to Jamie Farrell and keep it secure. Time to roll, folks.”

With a wild, wicked flourish, Jack threw open the door, sized up the lobby, and headed straight for a monster desk in the center of the room, where a man in a gray uniform sat behind a computer monitor that showed every floor in the building.

“Hands where I can see them, sir. FBI. I’m Special Agent Lupine, this is Special Agent Donald Ryder, and the lady is Special Agent Lucinda Collins. This is a warrant,” he said, waving the paper in front of the startled man’s eyes.

“Wha . . . what do . . . do you want?”

“Actually, nothing from you personally, Mr. . . .” Jack looked at the man’s name tag. “Mr. Lee. Special Agent Collins will stay here with you while we conduct our business. Do you understand what I just said, and do you understand that this warrant gives me the authority to do whatever I want in this building?”

“Yes, sir, I do, sir. My favorite show is
Law & Order.
I know how it works. Glory be, I never thought I’d be in the presence of the FBI. I’m supposed to report to Security when something like this happens.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll report it for you. For now, turn off all those monitors.”

“I can’t do that, sir. They are to be left on twenty-four /seven. I could get fired.”

“Special Agent Collins, see to things.” Jack moved off toward the bank of elevators, Dennis in his wake. “You have Farrell live on the phone?”

“Yes, I sure do. He’s telling me to go to the seventh floor, turn right, and Ms. Martha Wicked Witch of the World’s office is at the end of the hall. Her underlings sweat in the other offices. He said no one will even lift their heads if they see us, that’s how well-conditioned they are to her tirades and mean mouth.”

After exiting the elevator on the seventh floor, Jack strode purposefully down what was certainly the longest hallway he’d ever seen like he knew exactly where he was going. He heard Dennis ask Farrell if the office would be locked. He waited for Dennis to clue him in. He didn’t have long to wait.

“Jamie said the office is left open during the day, even when she isn’t there, because the slaves have to be able to put their reports on her desk the minute they’re finished. He said all the offices are locked at five-thirty on the dot. If someone has the misfortune to be inside when that happens, they spend the night until they are opened in the morning.”

“Then I guess we had better hurry,” Jack said, looking at the green numerals on his watch. “It would cut our time down if Jamie would tell us exactly where to look for the checkbook in case it isn’t where he originally told you it would be.”

“Jamie said that if it is not in the bottom desk drawer, then it would be on the third shelf in the closet, under the cushion of the chair she usually sits in to read the trashy novels she thinks no one knows about, or in the drawer of the table that the ficus plant sits on.” At Jack’s strange look, Dennis said, “Hey, I’m just repeating what he said to me.”

Jack looked around. It was a very nice suite of offices, tastefully decorated. Everything was exactly as depicted in the drawing Jamie had faxed to them yesterday. There was the ficus tree Jamie had mentioned, several lush ferns, and two inviting and comfortable-looking chairs off to the side of the main office space.
Good lighting
, he thought.
Good carpet, too.
A magnificent teakwood desk held very little other than a phone console and a computer. He liked the feel of the carpet under his shoes. He eyed the liquor bar, the bar sink, the minifridge, the Bose sound system, and the enormous—he guessed ninety-inch—TV mounted on the wall. Nice, expensive digs. He saw the copy of
Fifty Shades of Grey
on the table between the two comfortable-looking chairs. It looked worn, like it had been handled a lot. He grinned to himself.

“Dismantle the computer; we’re taking the hard drive with us. I’ll check for the register. Work fast, Dennis.” Five minutes later, he hissed to Dennis, “Tell your guy it is not in the bottom desk drawer or any of the other three places he mentioned.”

Dennis relayed the information as he continued to work on dismantling the computer and removing the hard drive. “He said to try the small linen closet in the bathroom, where she hides her stash of cigarettes and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, which she’s addicted to.”

Jack raced into the bathroom and ripped open the door. He gasped at the cases of candy and the cartons of cigarettes. He rummaged behind and under them, and finally found what he was looking for under a stack of lace-edged purple towels.
Purple towels?

A minute later, he was back in the main part of the office, waving the small checkbook in the air.

“That’s it!” Dennis hissed.

Jack laughed. “Maybe she has an aversion to big, cumbersome, hard-bound desk registers. Nikki has one like this. According to the balance”—and Jack whistled as he flipped the pages—“this is it! You ready, Dennis?”

“I am so ready to get out of here I could scream.” To Jamie, he said, “We got it. I’ll be in touch in the next day or so. I’m ending this call now so we can get out of here.”

They were halfway down the hall when they saw a very tall man dressed in a three-piece suit heading their way. Dennis muttered under his breath that the dude looked meaner than cat shit.

“Remember who we are and let me do the talking,” Jack said.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? Who let you up here?” the big man boomed.

Jack whipped out his credentials so fast, Dennis got light-headed. “FBI. And you are . . . ?”

“Evan Bell, head of Andover Security. How did you get in here and up to this floor?”

Jack waved the warrant and said, “This is the only introduction I need. Is there going to be a problem here?”

The big man planted his feet a little more firmly, looked Jack in the eye, and said, “If you tell me what and why, I don’t see a problem. Does that warrant say you can take that hard drive I see in your partner’s hand?”

“It does. It also gives me the power to take you to headquarters and hold you for seventy-two hours.”

Bell reached for the bogus warrant Jack Sparrow had sent and pretended to read it. Jack knew full well the man needed reading glasses at his age, and wasn’t at all surprised when Bell said, “Well, it looks in order. Do you mind telling me what’s going on here?”

Jack smiled while his insides roiled. “We ask the questions, we don’t answer them.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dennis hit a number on his speed dial. Jamie Farrell, he thought. The kid was learning fast. He motioned for Jack to move to the side so he could talk to him out of earshot of Evan Bell.

“You
know
either Bell or the two downstairs are going to call someone about this the minute we leave the building. Jamie said that the locking mechanism for every floor is in a utility closet at the beginning of the hallway. I think we should get all three of them back into Martha Gellis’s office and lock them in. At least they’ll be warm. That guy out there in my Humvee, Spinelli, must be about frozen. Jamie told me how the system works. What do you think, Jack?”

“I say that’s good thinking. I’ll take this guy back to the office, you go get Spinelli, and tell Maggie to bring her guy up here. Go!”

Jack turned around and motioned for Bell to follow him back to Martha Gellis’s office. “Have a seat, Mr. Bell.”

Bell did as instructed, his eyes wary. “I don’t understand any of this. I’m the head of Security; you should have come to me first.”

Jack surmised that Bell was ex-military, what with his crew cut, spit-and-polish suit, and, of course, his height and weight, which was around six-four and 220. “How long have you worked here, Mr. Bell? I’m going to need your cell phone.”

“Fifteen years.”

“Is there anything about the people who own this company, and by that I mean the Andovers, that you’d care to tell me? By the way, do you get stock options in case Andover ever goes public?”

“I take care of Security; that’s my job, and I’m very good at what I do. I hire good people. The first thing we were all told when we hired on was to mind our own business and do our jobs. We’ve all done that. The Andovers don’t give second chances. And yes, as head of Security, I get stock options. Not that they are worth anything until there is a market for them. I keep hoping the company will go public. When it does, I will probably retire and go live somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“Care to tell me your personal feelings in regard to the Andovers? I’m just making conversation now, guy to guy.”

Bell debated the question for a moment. “Hard to deal with. Look, I just work here. I came here right out of the military and worked my way up to the head of Security. Guy to guy, does this have anything to do with that leukemia drug? My wife wanted me to quit when that all came out. Said between my military pension and her job, and with Social Security only a few years away, we would do just fine, thank you very much. Then, over Christmas, we saw on the Internet that another little girl died. You guys got any openings for someone my age at the Bureau?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, we do,” Jack said. “I think you might be a good fit for the new director. Stop by on January 2. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Bell looked at Jack, trying to figure out if he was stringing him along or not. Whatever he saw in Jack’s expression made him grin. “I’ll do that. So, is your game plan to lock the three of us in here until tomorrow morning? If so, can I call my wife to tell her I won’t be home till tomorrow? Then you can have my cell phone. You’d better cut the phone line, too. But please leave the heat on. It’s supposed to go down to five degrees tonight.”

“Okay,” Jack said agreeably. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yeah,” Bell drawled, “the only one I would trust out of the three is Philip, and I’m not really sure about him.”

Just as he finished speaking, Dennis showed up with Lee and Spinelli, along with Maggie. They held a brief conference by the door, with a lot of head shaking and hand waving. Maggie pointed to her watch.

The trio worked quickly to cut the phone lines and scour the office to make sure there was no way for the occupants who were going to spend the night to communicate with anyone on the outside.

“Mrs. Gellis keeps a supply of candy and crackers in the linen closet. I saw some blankets in there, and there are drinks in the minifridge. Are you all okay with this?”

A chorus of “No!” rang out. To which Maggie replied, “Tough!”

Jack didn’t know why he did it, but he walked over to Bell, who towered over him when he stood up. He held out his hand and said, “Just remember, we’re the good guys. And I really am sorry about all of this.”

“Obviously you all have someplace you need to get to. I learned a long time ago never to sweat the small stuff.” The handshake was firm and hard. Jack nodded as he followed Dennis and Maggie out the door.

“What was that all about, Jack?” Dennis asked.

“Never you mind, kid. Just do what you need to do and let’s get out of here.”

Dennis raced down the hall and activated the locking mechanism. He winced at the sound of the hydraulic hiss as the lock shot into place. “Oooh, we screwed up, Jack. We didn’t check the other offices to see if anyone is in them.”

“Oh, well, no one is going to freeze if they have to spend the night. We are good to go, so let’s go. Anyone call in?”

“No. Well, yeah, they did, but they’re still on the road. No one has a definite ETA as yet. Roads are bad because it’s snowing harder. This is three glitches now. That’s my limit,” Dennis snorted as he raced for the front door. “C’mon, c’mon, why are you lagging behind? Yeah, yeah, first one out has to clear off the snow. Man, I always get the shit detail,” Dennis grumbled.

“What did I tell you about FBI agents? They do not whine; nor do they dither. As in ever.”

“Shove it, Jack. I’m not an official agent. Make-believe does not count.”

Jack’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket for the seventh time since they had arrived at the Andover headquarters. Now he could finally see who had been calling him.

“What?” Maggie said as she saw the expression on Jack’s face in the light spilling out of the lobby.

“It’s Nikki. She’s home and wants to know where I am. Each message is a little more frantic. She said if I don’t return her call in the next five minutes, she’s calling the police and the hospitals.”

“Well, crap!” Maggie said succinctly. “Now what?”

“Try Plan B,” Dennis shouted as he gave the back windshield one last swipe.

“Just get in the damn car and drive while I figure out what to do,” Jack said with a groan.