Cheating Justice (The Justice Team) (31 page)

Nine out of ten former taskforce members on the list he’d given her had shut her down before she’d asked the first question. Still, she’d warned them she was taking a boatload of evidence about the gun walking operation and Tommy’s murder to Justice first thing in the morning.

Since the sun was already rising, first thing in the morning quickly approached.

Mitch, I hope you and Maria are okay.

Brice had been taken to Metro P.D., but no one could locate Mitch or Maria. Why separate them? Brice could have just as easily had the information as Mitch or Maria.

But Brice was never directly connected to Tommy
. Caroline paced faster.

The one taskforce guy who’d spoken to her, Zachariah Nunnely, had put her on hold while he retrieved his notes on the operation. He’d eventually come through and the two of them reviewed the case in detail. Like Tommy, Zach had been suspicious of the straw buying operation. After Tommy’s death, he’d gone to his supervisor, and for his trouble, he was now in Fargo, North Dakota twiddling his thumbs and chasing down cigarette traffickers.

But Caroline had hope. Zach had agreed to come to Washington and meet with Connor Lane. He was taking the first flight out and would be in town by early afternoon.

I just hope it’s not too late.

Distrust and doubt itched under her skin. They knew the cover-up went high up on the chain of command, but how far? Who could they trust? The Deputy Attorney General had hustled off Mitch and Maria, and no one could find them. It didn’t bode well.

Grey came walking in, his face a thundercloud.

“Anything?” Caroline asked.

He shook his head. “There’s no reason for the DAG to meet your plane and take Mitch to an undisclosed location. None. If he was bringing him up on charges, Mitch would have been processed like any other detainee.”

“He said he wanted to interrogate him.”

“Same result…Mitch would be taken downtown and interrogated, but neither he nor Maria are there. I’ve called everyone I know and there’s nothing on them. Even if the Deputy Attorney General is keeping things hushed up, one of my sources would know if Mitch was in the system. No one has seen him or heard anything about his arrest.”

Caroline flapped her arms. “What the hell is going on?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Incoming call,” Teeg announced from his computer.

A second later, Caroline’s phone rang. She glanced at Grey. “How does he do that?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“He better not have bugged my phone.” She glanced at the screen. “It’s Donaldson.”

“Maybe he had better luck finding them than I did.”

Caroline punched the talk button. “Foster.”

“Don’t ask any questions, just listen,” Donaldson said, his voice low. “What I’m about to tell you goes no farther and you didn’t hear it from me.”

Caroline signaled Grey to stay quiet and put her boss on speakerphone. “Yes, sir. Whatever you tell me is completely confidential.”

He grunted as if he’d looked through her phone and knew she was lying. “During his last State of the Union address, the President leaned heavily on instituting stronger gun control measures, especially in the southern states after the Milan incident in Mexico.”

Yolanda Milan, a Mexican diplomat’s daughter, had been killed outside her home by a weapon that had entered Mexico illegally from Texas. Mexican officials had put a lot of heat on the U.S. over her death and asked for an in-depth investigation into the illegal flow of weapons into Mexico.

“This,” Donaldson continued, “kicked off the taskforce operation and gave the president more ammunition to enact stricter gun control legislation. The Republicans went ballistic.”

Caroline frowned at Grey as Donaldson paused and let out a slow breath. It took all of her willpower not to fire off the questions swimming through her brain. “Okay. You’re saying the Justice Department, as the parent department to ATF, was directed to get the guns off the street and came up with this operation?”

Donaldson responded with silence.

“So someone inside the Department of Justice approved letting guns walk? But isn’t that ass backwards if they were tasked with getting guns
off
the streets?” She’d opened the dam and the questions kept coming. “Did the DoJ want the president’s agenda to fail?”

“No, but the Republicans and the NRA put up such a wall against gun control measures, the president couldn’t get over.”

Her stomach knotted. “Is it possible this thing could go as high as the president?”

Silence again. Terrific. Her nerves stretched a little tighter. “Where did Straling take Mitch and Maria?”

“I can’t confirm, but there’s an abandoned building off I-395. It’s been used by the CIA, FBI, and a host of others for training and various purposes.”

“A safe house?”

“Not exactly. There are some things you’re better off not knowing, Foster.”

“Give me the address. I’ll meet you there.”

“No chance. I can’t get involved any deeper in this, and you need to be careful. I’ve saved your career at the moment, but if you go rushing in there, throwing around accusations, you could end up in jail with Mitch.”

She was sick and tired of him holding her career hostage. “Good men have died over this. Mitch’s life could be in jeopardy. You really think I care about my job right now?”

A heavy sigh came from Donaldson’s end. He rattled off the address. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you…but look, if you get there and you see anything illegal going on, call me. Got it?”

“I’ve got it.”

She disconnected and exchanged a look with Grey.

“You want me to drive?” he said.

For once, with the level of anger shredding her, she knew it would be better to let someone else take the wheel. “I’ll meet you around back. I need to grab a few things from my car.”

One of which is my rifle.

Chapter Twenty-three

From the front seat of Grey’s car, Caroline stared up at the T-shaped five-story apartment building where an unaccounted for number of goons held Mitch hostage. From their vantage point half a block down she couldn’t see much, but that would change soon.

“What do we know about this building?”

Grey’s face was hidden behind a long-range Burris scope. “It went into foreclosure ten years ago and the DoJ scooped it up. They use it for training exercises. And apparently, for other reasons too.”

Caroline lifted her binoculars, brought the building into focus, and scanned the top floor. Ten windows on the one side. “He’s in there somewhere, but we don’t know where.”

“We’re assuming he’s in there.”

“Well, the goon at the front entrance might be an indicator.”

Grey shrugged. “Maybe he’s not our goon.”

“So, you think we have random people standing outside the building Donaldson told us would be a good place to hide Mitch and Maria?”

“I don’t think anything. I’m just not ready to say Monroe is in there. Not when we don’t know.”

Caroline lifted the binoculars again and scanned the block. Across the street from the building in question sat a vacant manufacturing plant—
one, two, three
—seven stories high and facing the hostage taker’s location. A row of windows stretched across the top floor. Caroline swung the binoculars back to her target area.
Could work
.

“If I can get up to the roof of the adjacent building, I can use my scope and check each room on the front side of the building.”

“That could take a while.”

“Well, Greystone, unless you’re busting out a drone that can help us find them, I’m going with it.”

“Mitch told you about the drone? He never could keep his mouth shut.”

Huh? Caroline knew her mouth dropped open, but
holy cow
. “You have a
drone
? Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Teeg likes his toys.” He lowered his scope. “Screw this. You get your gear and set up on the roof. While you’re doing that, I’m gonna deal with the ox by the south entrance. Once I’m in, I’ll locate Monroe and call you.”

He handed her the car keys, opened the door and made a move to get out, but Caroline grabbed hold. “Hang on, cowboy. You don’t think that guy will shoot you on sight?”

“Not if I badge him. I’ll walk up, flash my badge, and tell him I work for Donaldson. I know enough to be dangerous and he won’t risk pissing me off. Now, get your gear and make your way behind those trees to that building. Keep your phone handy.”

“Grey!”

Ignoring her, he kept walking. If she got out of this car and chased him, she’d most likely be seen by the goon half a block down.

Resigned to this insane plan—no wonder Mitch and Grey got along—she slouched down in her seat to give Grey a head start. Then she’d worm her way out of the car, grab her rifle case from the back seat and head to the roof of the abandoned building to hopefully save Mitch’s ass.

Grey strode toward the King Kong wannabe standing in front of the south entrance to the apartment building. He wore a navy suit—solid, no pinstripes—and a white dress shirt that stretched across his massive chest. If given the opportunity, this guy could probably crush him.

If given the opportunity.

Already Kong had taken three steps left, completely blocking the steel double doors. Shoulders back, feet wide in that state of readiness men assume when they anticipate a threat.

Smart man.

Grey held up his hands as he approached. “Justice Greystone. FBI.”

“Stop right there. Let me see your creds.”

Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, Grey grabbed his badge and snapped it open, holding it until Kong gave him permission to approach.

Instead, Kong came to him and the power shift was on. First rule in the world of alphas. Never relinquish power. By coming to Grey, Kong had most definitely relinquished his power.

Arms at his sides, Kong studied the badge a second, intermittently flicking his gaze to Grey then back to the badge.

“Mitch Monroe is my former partner. Special Agent in Charge Donaldson sent me to talk to him. He thinks the pain in the ass will listen to me.” Grey patted the breast pocket of his jacket. “I have a note for the DAG from Donaldson. He tried to reach him by phone, but no go.”

Kong narrowed his dead blue eyes. Eyes like that, this guy had nothing in his soul. Stone-cold killer. Slowly, he set his hand on his hip. Right by his sidearm.

Yeah, I see the weapon, pal. It won’t help you
.

“Let me see the note.”

“Sure.” Grey reached into his pocket, grabbed his wallet where he had a folded slip of paper. The paper contained Sydney’s ongoing Christmas list he’d insisted she give him so he didn’t screw up. Kong didn’t know that though, and Grey needed him distracted for a few seconds. And crotchless panties being the number one thing on the list—thanks to Syd’s twisted humor—would definitely distract this guy.

After handing the folded note over, Grey shoved his wallet back into his pockets to free his hands. Kong focused on unfolding the note and Grey curled his right hand into a fist, shifting slightly and giving himself an unimpeded opening.
Another two seconds.

Kong’s bottom lip curled out. “What the?”

The second Kong lifted his head, Grey swung—
whap
—one shot to the throat. Momentum brought Kong’s chin up and—
whap—
Grey cracked him again across the jaw. The big man’s head snapped back, then forward again, his gaze straight on with Grey’s but his eyes, those cold, dead eyes had gone spacey. They rolled back and—nighty-night—Kong went lights-out.

Excellent. Syd’s note was still in his hand.
Ooh, can’t lose that.
Grey snatched it up and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He’d put it back in his wallet later. Right now, he had to find his friend.

Drawing his weapon, he helped himself to Kong’s two-way radio, clipped it to his belt and swung the steel door open, clearing the entryway. Empty. Perfect.

Staying close to the wall, he crept the empty hallway, taking note of the rat droppings along the way. The paint on the cement walls had long since started peeling and the floors didn’t look much better. Grey stepped lightly, avoiding the heels of his dress shoes clicking.

Being a believer in his own instincts, the ones screaming he should take the stairwell coming up on his left, he did just that. At the second floor, he opened the door and listened. Nothing.

Maybe he’d go all the way up and work his way down.

The minute he hit the fifth floor landing, he heard it. He stopped, stared at the ceiling, listening, observing, taking it all in. Voices. In the hallway. Something about another go. He stuck his ear to the door. Definitely voices. Coming closer.

Shit.

Grey jumped to the opposite wall, weapon at the ready, waiting for the door to open. The voices faded as the men strode by heading to the north end of the hallway. He couldn’t risk opening the door to check.

Caroline. He’d told her to keep her phone on. By now, she should have been in the building with her scope set up.