Fractured State: Rogue State Part 4

"Sure," said Jon, taking the satphone out of his pocket.

As Scott's Jeep turned into the wide aisle created by two rows of side-by-side parked motor homes, he dialed David Quinn's number. The Jeep pulled even with them as the call went to voice mail. He shook his head, about to disconnect the call, when Leah grabbed the phone. Jon met Scott in front of the Jeep, giving his wife some privacy to leave Nathan a message.

"You sure about this?" said Scott.

"It's the only way. You keep her there until we're done with this thing."

"I can't keep her prisoner, Jon."

"She understands what's going on. If things go well, she'll be out of your hair in a few weeks-"

"She's no bother at all, my friend."

"I know, and I can't thank you enough, but once we find our own safe haven, I'll be back to reclaim the love of my life," he said, turning to smile at Leah.

"Sounds like he's a.s.s kissing," she said. "What are the two of you conspiring over?"

Scott laughed. "I was just telling your obstinate husband that his wife is welcome to stay as long as she'd like."

"I'll be back before you know it," said Jon. "We better get moving."

When Leah turned to open the pa.s.senger door, Scott leaned closer to Jon. "If things don't go well down south, she has a home with us."

Jon took a deep breath and exhaled. "I have every intention of returning-but thank you."

"More conspiring?" said Leah before climbing into the backseat.

"Good luck with that one," Jon said, patting Scott on the shoulder. "I almost feel bad teaming her up with Kim. You don't stand a chance with the two of them on your case."

"s.h.i.t. I gave up pretending I had any say in things years ago."

"I never tried to pretend," said Jon.

They both enjoyed a quick laugh.

"Hey," Scott said, walking to the rear gate of his Jeep, "I keep a little never-know bag locked in the back." He opened the gate, reaching inside to move a dirty blanket and expose a low-profile safe box extending from one side of the Jeep to the other. He entered a code into the keypad and lowered the safe's door.

"That's a neat contraption," said Jon.

"It's the only way to keep s.h.i.t from being stolen out of your car up here," he said, hauling a heavily laden duffel bag out of the hidden compartment and heaving it on top of the safe. He unzipped it, then took a step back to let Jon get a look.

"Looks more like a never-know-when-it's-going-to-be-World-War-Three bag," said Jon.

"I'll leave this with you at the apartment, because-"

"You never know."

CHAPTER 7.

"Park here," said Riggs, pointing at an empty parking spot facing Grant Creek Road.

Tex squeezed the silver Yukon into the s.p.a.ce, backing out once to readjust the oversize SUV dead center between two smaller vehicles. "You got enough room to get out?" he asked.

Riggs examined the s.p.a.ce along the side of the SUV through the side mirror. "I think we're good to go. We're not taking them down here, anyway. This is strictly surveillance. You still tracking them inside?"

"On two different Wi-Fi networks-citywide and Starbucks," said Nissie from the third row of leather seats.

"Just yes or no will do it," said Riggs.

"Ahhhh-firrrrr-maaaa-tive," she replied. "Is that better?"

"Way better."

"Is one of us going in?" said Tex.

"You in a hurry?" said Riggs.

"No, I just thought-"

"Can I run the show for a second? We just f.u.c.king pulled in."

"All right," said Tex, taking his hands off the steering wheel and shrugging his shoulders.

"Obviously, this is a s.h.i.tty stakeout location," said Riggs.

"Just slightly," said Ross, twisting in his seat and looking through the lift gate window, or at Nissie. Riggs couldn't tell.

"The other choice was parking right up against the building, nose in. Wouldn't take James Bond to figure out we were up to something."

"If they're paying attention, this will still look funny," said Tex. "Big-a.s.s truck with tinted windows. n.o.body getting out."

"You're killing me, Tex," said Riggs. "I'm going in to buy us all some coffees. I'll locate our targets, make sure they're not sitting with a bunch of FBI-looking goons, then we'll park somewhere else where we can watch from a distance. As long as we can track the laptop, we can make ourselves look inconspicuous. Good enough plan for you?"

"Didn't mean to jump the gun," said Tex, which was as close to an apology as Riggs could expect.

"What does everyone want?" said Riggs.

His team stuck to straight coffee. Nissie ordered a drink requiring more than six words. He'd already forgotten three of them.

"I'm not ordering queer drinks," said Riggs. "You want soy milk, I can live with that."

"Can't remember the order?" she said.

"I can remember the order," he said, lying. "I'm just not ordering froufrou drinks."

"I can repeat the order," insisted Nissie.

"What did she order?" said Oz, elbowing Ross.

The two smirked at each other before Ross joined in. "I didn't catch it either. What was it, Tex?"

"I don't know, but I'll have what she's having," said Tex.

"You get coffee. That's it," said Riggs, opening the door hard enough to b.u.mp the car next to them. "f.u.c.king a.s.sholes. You're lucky I didn't set off the car alarm."

"I'll have what she's having, too," yelled Ross.

"f.u.c.k you," he muttered, shutting the door on their nonsense.

Riggs shook his head, ignoring the repeated knocks on the windows. He didn't care how much Flagg appreciated Miss Keane's talents-that b.i.t.c.h needed to be taught some manners. In fact, his whole team could benefit from an att.i.tude adjustment. Crossing the parking lot, he glanced back at the Yukon, imagining flames roaring from the windows as charred arms flailed inside. Or he could get a new team. He shook the image and focused on the mission.

Inside Starbucks, he didn't immediately spot anyone fitting the description of either Jon or Leah Fisher. Without obviously panning back and forth over the customers, he ordered four caramel Frappuccinos, having heard at least two of the words spoken by that stupid b.i.t.c.h, and a regular coffee. While he waited, he pretended to check his phone and scanned the tables for laptops again. He spotted several but was unable to match any faces to the pictures on his phone. She said the computer was here!

A few minutes later, still not seeing the Fishers, the last drinks in his order were placed on the counter. He packed them on the tray as an idea hit him. Riggs checked his phone again and gestured for one of the baristas.

"Sorry to bug you. I was messaging a friend who lost his laptop. He doesn't think he left it here, but he can't be sure. Do you guys keep a lost and found? If it's here, he'll head over and grab it."

"Sure. What kind is it?"

"I think it's a Dell. Let me check," he said, pretending to send a text.

"Hold on," she said, disappearing into the back office and reappearing.

A few moments later, a thin woman emerged from the room carrying a silver laptop. She identified herself as the manager. He could tell right away that the computer she held was not a Dell. It looked more like an Apple product. Could Nissie tell what kind of computer she was tracking?

"He said it was a Dell Inspiron. That doesn't look like a Dell," he said, feigning a disappointed look. "b.u.mmer. He's been without that computer for three days, if you can imagine."

"This looks like a Mac Pro. An older couple walked out without it maybe an hour and a half ago," she said. "Sorry. Hope your friend finds it soon."

"I'm sure he will. Thank you."

When he got back to the SUV, he removed his coffee and handed the tray to Tex.

"What the f.u.c.k is this?"

"It's your froufrou drink! I got everyone whipped cream because I didn't want any of you to miss out on the full b.i.t.c.h experience," said Riggs, slamming the door shut.

He took a sip of his black coffee while the froufrou tray made its rounds.

"The Fishers walked away from their laptop about ninety minutes ago. It was sitting in the manager's office. They were using a Mac Pro, correct?"

"Affirmative," said Nissie, taking a sip. "Is this made with nonfat milk?"

"It's a caramel Frappuccino. Everyone got the same thing."

"Thank you for trying," she said, causing some laughter.

"This tastes like s.h.i.t," said Ross, the straw still in his mouth.

"You have no idea how you look right now," said Riggs, staring at Ross until he lowered the drink. "Miss Keane. What are our options? Cameras?"

"The Starbucks security cameras would be a good start."

"Can you do that from your computer?"

"Yes, but I'll need the full system to access facial recognition networks. In case we discover someone helping them. Never know."

"All right. You work on what you can with your magic laptop, and we'll get set up in one of the hotels. The rest of your team should be here by five. We also need to rent one more vehicle, preferably a sedan. I haven't seen too many luxury SUVs up here."

"My team has hacked into most of the nearby hotel systems from the road. They obviously haven't found a couple named Jon and Leah Fisher, but they're combing for irregularities. I'll have them start compiling and preparing security feed data. May as well run it all through the facial recognition networks. That'll save us from sifting through hours of footage."

"Sounds good," said Riggs, turning to Tex. "You enjoying your Frappuccino?"

"Actually, it's kind of growing on me," he said, turning the drink toward him. "Want to try?"

"I ain't sipping coffee through a straw. What the f.u.c.k is wrong with you?"

CHAPTER 8.

Stuart Quinn kept the satphone pressed to his ear, leaning his head against the seat's headrest. He'd been on hold for close to forty minutes, waiting for Major General Nichols to get out of a staff meeting. Not that he was complaining. Nichols had already gone way beyond the call of duty on this, and he hated to bother him again-but David's check-in was long overdue. He'd run every possibility through Blake, as a sanity check, and neither of them could come up with a serious scenario that didn't involve Cerberus.

"Colonel Quinn, they just broke camp. I'm gonna hand this phone to the general when he walks by. He said he'd take your call, but things are pretty tense around here, so I can't guarantee anything."

"Major, I appreciate you sticking your neck out like this."

"Don't mention it. We've been eyeballing your son for a division billet for some time now. Just looking for a way to steal him away from Lieutenant Colonel Smith. Hope everything's all right."

"I'm sure it is. Thank you again."

"Here he comes."

A few seconds of silence pa.s.sed before the general spoke.

"Stu. I'm running to another meeting. San Diego County PD has intensified their blockade around the base."

"Sorry to jump you like this, Larry. I haven't heard from David."