Eraserbyte (byte series Book 7) Read online

  For Rosanne and Megan

  The finest Admins and best friends

  an author could ever have.

  “The oldest and strongest emotion of

  mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest

  kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

  H. P. Lovecraft

  One

  Chasing Pavements

  “You all right, Conway?”

  I spun around and looked at him standing in my doorway. “Yeah, you?”

  Kurt nodded. “I’m not quite sure how we pulled that off. But we did, nor did we lose anyone.” He walked across the floor and lowered himself into the chair on the other side of my desk.

  A smile edged over my lips. “I can’t quite believe Owen still has a job.”

  Kurt smiled. “Supervision. She so much as breathes the wrong way, she’s history.”

  Justice? Didn’t feel like it. But compromises were made and my team still intact. Grateful for that. Very grateful.

  “You never did tell me where you went and who with …”

  “You know where I went. I filed a freaking report. Even on vacation I attract death and destruction.”

  “You and Mitch?”

  “Yes.” I changed the subject. “So a select committee and the Director smacked Owen across the knuckles. Should be quieter in the halls for the next few months then.”

  “Should be,” Kurt agreed. “How much influence do you think the CIA had on our ‘enforced leave with pay, everyone’s still got jobs’ half-assed disciplinary action?”

  “I don’t know. Tierney is very supportive of this team.” I tapped my fingernails on the desk. “We were lucky.”

  Could’ve been very bad for all of us.

  An email alert popped up at the bottom of the screen. I moved the pointer and opened the email.

  “Interesting?” Kurt asked.

  “Email from a CI of mine. Suspicious activity at an abandoned factory. The CI thinks someone is being held there.”

  “Is this confidential informant reliable?”

  “Usually. We’ll go check it out.” I picked up the phone on my desk and called Sam and Lee.

  “We got a job.”

  Moments later they appeared in the doorway.

  “Chicky,” Lee said with a grin. “We’re ready to roll.”

  Forty-five minutes later we stood in the rain across the road from the factory in question. It looked deserted, no signs of life.

  “Let’s do it,” I said. “Gear up.”

  Gloomy, cold and drafty. Not a fan of abandoned old factories. Puddles gleamed as lightning lit the interior. There were better places to be during a thunderstorm. The structure leaked like a sieve. Another clap of thunder shook the walls and vibrated under my feet. Water trickled down the wall on my left, feeding a large puddle in the broken concrete.

  My LED flashlight lit the area with white light. I scanned the walls. Lee was with me, Sam and Kurt several paces behind us.

  “On your three o’clock,” I called to Sam.

  The flashlight illuminated a solid-looking metal door on my right. I kept moving forward down the corridor but looked back quickly as Sam turned ninety degrees and tried the door handle. With a reverberating clang, the door hit a wall. Kurt and Sam disappeared.

  Moments later, I heard Sam’s voice. “Clear.”

  Lee looked at me.

  “Our nine,” he said as his flashlight shone through the doorway, onto more puddles.

  “Got it.”

  I followed Lee into the room. He went right. I went left. Nothing but decrepit machinery, rusted hunks of metal, and more puddles.

  “Clear,” Lee said and we moved on.

  I wanted to move on completely and go home. It was a miserable afternoon. The dank corridor stretched in front of us with no end in sight.

  A door banged. The echo bounced off the walls and slammed into us, directional information distorted by the echo.

  “Where was that?” I asked.

  “Ahead?” Lee said, glancing over his shoulder at Sam for confirmation.

  Sam nodded. “Ahead. The tip might have been right. Someone is in here.”

  Or a big rat can close doors?

  I felt Sam and Kurt close behind us. We’d walked two abreast earlier but in single file now. Lee had point, then me, then Kurt, then Sam in the rear.

  Another door closed, this time quietly.

  “They know we’re here,” I whispered to Lee.

  That was a given. We weren’t exactly in stealth mode.

  “Yeah, carefully does it,” he replied. “They have the upper hand for now.”

  Counting paces helped me control my breathing and heart rate. It also meant I knew it was twenty-four feet before we saw another doorway and a closed door. Lee stopped. We listened for signs of life.

  Barely breathing.

  A tap or knock, so faint none of us would have heard it if we were moving at all. I needed to talk so hand signals were the way to go. I holstered my Glock to free my hand, pointed to the door, and then grabbed my wrist with my gun hand. Could be our suspect inside. Lee nodded. We stood in pairs on either side of the door. I drew my weapon.

  Lee leaned forward and twisted the doorknob. The door didn’t move. Locked.

  I heard a distinctive metallic noise.

  “Gun,” I said. We leaped aside. Gunfire erupted, but bullets failed to penetrate the solid wooden door. “Handgun, not a big hole gun. Nine mil maybe,” I muttered. “Or the door has a steel core?”

  “We passed through fire doors at the beginning of this corridor. Looked like they separated the offices from the main factory area,” Sam said, his voice low. “Think this door is just solid old wood.”

  He could be right. Old factory. Fewer fire codes back in the day and probably no need for more fire doors.

  Sam pumped the shotgun. We were about to find out if the door had a steel core or not.

  Breaching rounds.

  Not a time for being subtle.

  He stepped up. I covered my ears and turned away.

  “Knock knock!” Sam hollered as he fired two rounds at the hinges of the door and then one at the lock. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as wood splintered. Sam gave the door a kick. It fell inward. Crashing to the ground. Kurt and Lee were first across the smashed-up door. In the corner of the room, huddled under a blanket, was a human shape.

  “Show me your hands?” I yelled at the quivering form.

  Kurt and Sam moved away, following sounds through a hole in the wall.

  One hand came out from under the blanket, then the second. Small hands on small wrists. The blanket fell off her thin shoulders, exposing a short strappy top. The young woman remained crouched in the corner, the blanket still covering most of her.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked, stepping closer. I let the beam from my flashlight rest on her; she looked cold but where she lay was dry.

  “No,” she said. “I am Sonya.”

  An accent. Not American.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Lee moved up and pulled the blanket away. He stood her up and searched her for weapons. She wore very little, not much room for concealment. Barefoot and in need of a shower, decent clothes and a meal, by the look of her. I’d seen better-dressed bag ladies with more meat on their bones.

  “This is where I live,” she replied with a strange slow deliberation, as though reading a script, but the words had no meaning.

  “And why are you in America?”

  “I come from Croatia for better life.”

  Again the same slow deliberation. Learned responses?

  “How’s that working out for you?” I asked.

  She didn’t
reply. Guess that question wasn’t part of the script she’d learned.

  Lee signaled. The girl was unarmed and carried no identification.

  She sank to the cold ground, gathering the blanket around her. Lee moved to the other side of the room. His new position allowed him to watch me and the door.

  A yell from Kurt spiraled out from the dark hole in the wall. Footsteps pounded over wet ground, moving toward us.

  I turned to face the sound, mirroring Lee.

  Kurt's voice rang out, “Stop. FBI!”

  A person erupted from the gloom, a gun clearly visible. The woman under the blanket squeaked and curled up even smaller.

  “Drop the weapon!” I aimed at the disheveled mess in front of me. “Drop it!”

  The gun in the person’s hand wobbled from side to side. From across the room, I could feel Lee’s muscles tense as he assessed the situation. It took me a moment to realize it was a woman in front of us with a gun. The gun in her hand steadied.

  “Drop it,” Lee said.

  She squeezed off a round, which flew over my head.

  “Drop the weapon!” I said.

  Her trigger finger moved again. I fired. The bullet slammed into her forehead. A fine spray erupted from the back of her head and hung in the damp air before drifting downward. She buckled, collapsing onto herself and sank into a dirty puddle.

  “That went well,” I muttered, holstering my weapon.

  Kurt and Sam stepped into the room, dodging the body as they did so.

  “There was no one else. But it looks like several people were living back there,” Sam said. “They’re in the wind.”

  Kurt looked at the dead woman, then at me. “Your handiwork?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “Head shot … you still worried about zombies?” He smiled up at me as he did the customary pulse check on the body.

  “Zombies are no laughing matter,” I replied. “One day you’ll be thanking me for my head shots.”

  “She had a driver’s license on her,” Kurt said, handing Sam a plastic card.

  Sam looked at it, then passed it to Lee. “Is this Russian?”

  “Yes, and it’s her.”

  I turned to the huddled woman. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes. She keeps me.”

  “Are you a prisoner?”

  She frowned.

  “Can you leave?”

  She shook her head.

  I took my phone out of my pocket and made a call. “It’s me. My list for this afternoon. Crime scene techs, paramedics, coroner, scene guards, and notify Homeland. I suspect we found a woman who is a victim of trafficking.”

  “Coroner?” Sandra repeated.

  “She had a guard too.”

  “Sending everything to your location.” I heard her pause and take a breath. “Everyone okay?”

  I smiled. “Delta A is all okay.”

  I knew what that was about. She wanted to ask about Sam. Their not-so-secret relationship looked like a long haul thing to me. It’d been a year since I first noticed something was going on.

  I hung up.

  “Wrap this up. Then we’re off for the weekend,” I said. “As soon as our people arrive, I’ll head back with Kurt and get the case file updated.”

  Sam and Lee nodded.

  “Good result, Conway,” Kurt said. “We got a live one.”

  It felt too easy. Or I felt uneasy. I wasn’t sure which.

  Two

  Rolling in the Deep

  At Kurt’s insistence, he and I invited the team and partners out for drinks. He’d suggested it as a good way to wind down after our day. We’d definitely had a day. I knew better. It was a cunning move on his part. The team wanted to get to know Mitch. No one was buying my “we’re just friends” line. Least of all me. But that’s what we were. Friends. Close friends. This was not something I was prepared to screw up. The uneasiness from the afternoon circled like a shark looking for a free feed. It would take some effort to let it go.

  Mitch smiled as he opened the car door for me. “You’re quiet. All right?”

  “Yes,” I replied, returning the smile. “A drink would be good.”

  “Come on then,” he said, closing the door and pressing the beeper on his key chain. The car lights flashed as the doors locked and the alarm set.

  Mitch and I walked into the bar. Lee met us near the door. He went to speak but nothing audible left his lips; his jaw dropped a little. Amused, I reached over and tapped his lower jaw, “Catching flies?”

  He swallowed and grinned at me. “You look different. Nice skirt? I like your hair out like that.”

  “Yes, it’s a skirt. Thanks, I think.”

  Mitch interceded, his hand outstretched. He and Lee shook firmly. “Lee? I’m Mitch. Pleased to meet you.”

  “You too. I’d say we’ve heard a lot about you, but we haven’t,” Lee replied, slapping Mitch on the back. “The rest of the gang will be along shortly.”

  I slid into a booth. “Where’s Tara?”

  Lee pointed to the bar. “Getting drinks, what are you drinking?”

  “I’ll go,” Mitch said. He leaned in and asked, “Margarita?”

  “Please,” I replied and watched as he weaved his way through the throng of people to the bar.

  Lee coughed. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” I dragged my eyes off Mitch and settled them on a grinning Lee. “Busy in here tonight.”

  A couple walking in the front door caught my eye. Sam and Sandra waved, understated but still a wave. Sandra came straight over and Sam went to the bar. Lee stood up and let Sandra sit down. She slid over until she was in front of me.

  “Your idea?” she asked with a smile.

  “Sort of. How’s Sam?”

  Her smile widened. “You don’t mind?”

  “As far as I can tell you’ve been together for a while and it certainly hasn’t affected anyone’s performance. Why would I mind?”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “I try to take notice of what’s going on around me.” I leaned on my elbows and made direct eye contact. “If you were in the field with us I would have transferred you out so fast, your head would spin.”

  “Understood.”

  Tara handed Lee a drink and put hers on the table. Lee wandered off toward the door. I thought I saw Kurt. Guess he did too.

  “Hey, Ellie, Sandra. Kurt just came in. Regular Delta A party here tonight,” Tara said. “Is there a reason?” She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “Something we should know?”

  I shook my head. “Not what you’re thinking. The boys want to meet Mitch. Kurt and I decided we should all get together. No secrets. This team is too tight for secrets and … we’ve drifted a little after …” I wanted to say the words but they wouldn’t come. I tried again. “We’ve drifted a bit after losing Carla.” I took a sharp breath. Nothing crashed down over me but relief. I caught Mitch’s eyes across the room.

  Everything is okay.

  Tara smiled. “I see, this is a team-building-strengthening Delta A night out.”

  I leaned back and looked at Sandra. I wanted to talk to her on Monday but no time like the present. “Can we talk shop for a minute?”

  She nodded. Tara disappeared.

  “Problem?”

  “Not at all. I’ve been authorized to offer you a permanent Delta A position, what you’re doing now but just for us. B and C will get their own supporting agent.”

  A smile bounced around her lips and lit her eyes.

  “Just this team?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even without seeing the new contract, I’m in.”

  I intended to shake her hand but stood up, leaned over the table and hugged her instead. She’s Delta A and we hug. “Thank you,” I said. “You can tell the team if you’d like.”

  “Can you?”

  “Sure. I’ll do it tonight when everyone is settled.”

  I waved to Tara. She’d corralled the troop
s including Mitch and Kurt’s girlfriend, Rachel. The booth was big but not big enough.

  As they all arrived, I said, “We need a bigger table.”

  “Over there,” Sam said, pointing to a large round table.

  We gathered belongings and moved. I watched the interactions for a few minutes; jovial best described the atmosphere. It was nice to hear laughter. I knew that would change the minute I spoke.

  “You all met Mitch?” I asked, glancing around the table. Nods and smiles. “Now, I have an announcement …” I found it difficult to keep my expression neutral, especially with the tension that sprang from the group. Sam sat straighter. Kurt rocked back in his chair. Lee leaned toward me.

  “There will be a statement from the Director regarding Owen’s tentative hold on her job.” Everyone focused, their mouths set in grim lines. “She did not willingly give information to La Ford. She was a victim of his technological prowess, as were we all.”

  “But—” Lee started.

  I shook my head. “The official line is she keeps her job. But she will be under strict supervision and operate in a limited capacity until further notice.”

  I knew what they were thinking. We all saw the video footage where La Ford confessed his crimes and implicated her. How could she still have a job? Sometimes justice worked in mysterious ways.

  “And?” Lee asked. “There’s more isn’t there?”

  With a small nod, I carried on, “Some changes to Delta.” Kurt’s chair legs hit the floor with a bang. I stifled a smile. “Sandra will be joining Delta A permanently. No more sharing our best support agent with the other teams.”

  It took a few moments for the news to sink in.

  “Sandra is joining us. You’re not leaving?” Sam said, relief flooding his words.

  “You don’t get rid of me that easy,” I replied. “And one more thing … I’ll pick up the tab tonight. Let’s welcome Sandra to the team properly.”

  Sam threw his keys into the middle of the table; Lee and Kurt followed suit.

  “Cabs then?” Sandra said.

  “Looks that way,” I replied. “Mitch?”

  He smiled. “I have other plans.”

  Lee laughed. “You think that will wash?”

  “I know it will,” Mitch replied.

  “I like this guy,” Lee announced, getting up for another round. “Chicky, a word.”