“I understand,” he says, his tone colored with fear.
“What do you need from me, Blake?” Church asks. “I can quietly divert whatever resources your team needs. But I need your word that you will keep this out of the media.”
“That’s not a problem. My team doesn’t leak,” I say.
She nods. “I know. It’s one reason I called on you for this.”
“What about my OPR hearing? I’m expected back tomorrow morning—”
“I’ll take care of that,” Barlow says.
“How so?”
“I have plenty of friends on the Hill who don’t think too fondly of Deputy Inspector Graves,” he replies. “I’ll pull some strings and see if I can make this whole thing go away.”
“It’s a sham that never should have been elevated to the point of a hearing in the first place,” Church says. “It’s only gotten here because DeClerk still has friends who want to tarnish my reputation by discrediting yours.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that feeling,” I say.
“We’ll deal with it,” Barlow says. “What do you need to get this done?”
“Two things,” I reply. “My team and a safe place that’s off the grid for us to post up.”
“I know just the place,” Church says. “I’ll get that set up while you go call your team and get them out here. And I know I don’t need to tell you that time is of the essence, Chief.”
“Copy that.”
I drain the last of my scotch, then get to my feet, mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead. I wish I could say something comforting to Barlow or somehow reassure him. He looks like a man in emotional purgatory. But I have no words of comfort to offer. In child abductions, every second is critical. But there is no more important time period than the first twenty-four hours.
And I’m already several hours behind the ball.
FBI Operational Black Site, Foggy Bottom District; Washington DC
“Nice digs,” Astra remarks with a whistle as she walks through the door.
“Glad you like it. This is home for the duration of the case,” I say.
An hour after my meeting with Church and Barlow, the team was on a plane heading east. A little over five hours later, they arrived, were picked up by a car Church had sent for them, and were coming through the door of our HQ.
“There are four bedrooms in the place,” I say. “I don’t anticipate us getting a lot of sleep, but each room has two bunks, so grab one and settle in quickly. We’re on a clock, so we need to get to work on this as quickly as possible.”
The black site Church set us up with is a three-story, white brick row townhouse in the Foggy Bottom neighborhood. It’s a quiet street and probably the last place you’d expect to find an off-the-grid Bureau operational center, which is probably the point. Other than tables and workstations, there isn’t much else in the way of furnishings. There are no decorations on the walls, the bunks in the rooms are hard, and there is nothing warm or inviting about the place. It’s spartan, functional, and utilitarian. It’s perfect.
The rest of the team files in, sets their things down, then starts poking around the townhome and claiming their workstations like cats marking out their territory—all except for Nina who pulls a small black box out of a bag. It beeps after she flips a switch, then she starts walking through the place with it held out in front of her, watching the small screen built into it.
“It’s a Bureau black site,” I say. “Do you really think it’s bugged?”
She shrugs. “They bugged us in a Bureau field office..”
“That’s fair,” I say.
“That’s smart,” Astra adds.
“Thanks for taking the precaution, Nina. I appreciate the diligence.”
“Hey, I am nothing if not paranoid,” she says. “I’m not about to let some other idiot like DeClerk take advantage of us.”
“Every door has been reinforced with steel, the windows are bulletproof, we have a dedicated server room in the basement, and the lock and surveillance systems are cutting edge. Military grade,” I tell them. “This house is probably safer and more secure than any field office.”
“Are we expecting an army to attack?” Astra asks.
“Expecting? No. Is it possible? Given this team’s luck, it’s always best to be prepared for the unexpected no matter how outlandish,” I reply.
“True enough,” Astra says with a laugh.
Done settling in, the rest of the team gathers in the main room on the ground floor and takes their seats around the long table, getting themselves set up and ready to work. Church had the room set up to my specifications—a long conference table sits in the center of the room with a large monitor on an elevated easel at the foot. A whiteboard sits to the right of the table with a fresh pack of dry erase markers taped to it. I pull the markers off and set them on the table, then tape a picture of Ashley Barlow to it and write her name below it.
“How is your hearing with OPR going?” Astra asks, her tone concerned.
“Not well. DeClerk has his allies coming for my head,” I say.
“Please tell me you’re playing nice like I told you.”
“I… tried. I really did.”
