Catharsis (Book 2): Catalyst (17 page)

            Standing directly above the window, I bend into a crouch and peek into the darkened room.  My eyes adjust quickly to the unlit gloom, and I can immediately tell Ren was dead on with his guess.  This is not a child's bedroom.  It is filled with tall, wooden bookcases packed with large, dark-spined tomes of varying shades.  In the middle with its back to the window is a beautiful cherry wood desk and rolling armchair.  There are no lights on in the room and the drapes are pulled mostly closed, but luckily they have gapped near the top allowing me my slight view of the room’s layout. 

            "It's perfect Ren," I say quietly into my mic forgetting about my code phrase.  Shaking my head at my own slip, I recover and say, "Egg drop starting."

            For this house, Ren chose a tiny all-weather camera that I'll plant on the outside of the window.  It's designed to look like an abandoned, half-finished wasp nest, and the goal is to place it along the top edge of the window so that the little lens can see into the room through the crack in the drapes.  If the lawyer does look out and see the camera, he'll just notice the wasp nest and hopefully ignore it (With it being so high off the ground and no active wasps in it, we are hoping it won't register as very important on the "honey do" list.).

            From the camera setup, I run a filament-thin power cord to the corner of the window where I'm also attaching a tiny suction cup.  There's not much we can do to hide the suction cup aside from hope he never looks in this direction, but the suction cup is the more important of the two devices.  It houses a microscopic "vibration microphone" that picks up the sound waves from the window and its movements.  The tiny camera and its microphone won't do much through a window pane, but the suction cup is designed especially for this situation.  It will pick up all sound on the inside of the room, and it doesn't need line of sight to be effective.  As long as it is touching the window glass it will work.  You gotta love technological advances.

            With the cup glued into place and attached to the camera, I run a second filament of wire along the vertical crease of the nearest piece of wood and glue it into place as I go.  This wire runs all the way back to the chimney where I install a playing card-sized solar panel to power the whole setup and a small transmitter to send the signals back to us at the warehouse.  As long as he doesn't get his roof inspected anytime soon, we should be fine.  The wire can't be seen from more than a foot away, and I've angled the panel to draw as little attention as possible during the daytime.  It might not be perfect, but it's better than anything we had previously.

            With all the wires in place and glued into position, I put all the excess materials back into my backpack and pull out the final element of our plan.  "Eggs are in the nest, Ren.  Is it all a go on your end?" I ask to make sure he's getting the proper signals before I leave.  I don't want to have to come back and make adjustments later.

            My pocket clicks twice, and then I ask one final question.  "And you're sure you want me to install this?  Last chance to bail."

            Three seconds of long silence later my pocket clicks twice more.  With a sigh, I start maneuvering around the roof of the house to find the easiest attic access.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

            Back on my bike, I accelerate hard and leave the lawyer's neighborhood behind me.  The first stop took less than an hour and had no hiccups.  The law of averages says the next one can't possibly go that well, so I steel myself for an unforeseen complication occurring while I'm there.

            "That was an easy one," I tell Ren as I gun the bike down the city streets toward my second stop.  "I’m not sure what it’ll be, yet, but I’m expecting trouble on this next one.  No way we get lucky twice."

            He laughs gently in my ear, and I can tell his mood is already lightened from earlier.  Apparently our small taste of success was all it took to wash away the bitter tang of fear that had been hanging around us.  "I'm hoping we do, Cat.  I spent time planning these out so that they
would
go smoothly.  Let's not jinx it, yet.  And this next house should be easier."

            "I know," I tell him.  "Not as much worry about damage mitigation, but I still have to worry about running into people.  I'll have an easier time getting in, but they'll also be more prepared for me once I'm there.  I'm not exactly walking into a princess castle.  It's still a dilapidated drug storehouse filled with gun-toting thugs.  I'm just not focused on hurting anybody this time."

            Our second stop for the night goes back to my run-in with the boys in the Escalade.  The house that they left that evening is one Ren has suspected of being involved in the trade for a while now, but we don't necessarily think they keep any of the drugs or money stored there.  He's not real sure how they use it, except he knows it gets mentioned quite a bit when he digs.  He's hoping that by wiring the place we can either get a better idea of what goes on there, or at least catch them making references to other places. 

            This house was the tough one for Ren to decide on as it is what he referred to as a "gamble" target.  It could either pay off with a huge reveal and give us information that we never would have suspected, or it might be useless and just turn out to be a place where they store sandwiches to deliver to hungry employees (Although I doubted the possibility of Ren's 'sandwich theory', I understood his point.  And it was good to see him give in to his sassy side a little.).  Because we don't know what to expect from the place, Ren wasn't sure how to prepare.  He sent me with both outdoor tech (the wasp nests and suction cups) and indoor (vent cams, light switch mikes and a few other low grade goodies).  Our goal is for me to scope the place out, see how occupied it is, what floors look most accessible and then go from there.

            That means I have no idea what I'm walking into.  The house is in a middle-class neighborhood surrounded by your basic run-of-the-mill families.  I'm hoping that means the number of men prowling around with guns will be minimal, but I've been surprised before.  If I can find an easy way inside and I don't sense many people are home, then I'll head in and plant what I can in whatever appears to be the most ideal location.

            If the house is lit up, crowded or otherwise unapproachable then I'll just try to get to the windows and set up what I can there.  Not being seen or getting caught is priority one right now.  Getting inside the house would be my second priority, but only if it doesn't interfere with my first one.  And then third is just getting ears attached somewhere to the building in hopes we get lucky.

            Looking up and recognizing the houses from my previous trip through the area, I let Ren know I'm getting close.

            "Ok, Cat.  Remember to park the bike at that ranch house I pointed out earlier.  It's a bit further, but that was the best option I could find around there.  The family's gone for the week, so at least you shouldn't be disturbed."

            "I remember, Ren, thanks.  And I see it," I tell him.  "Will be set up and ready to move in just a few minutes."

            I steer the Zero quietly into the house's driveway and then up next to bushes to keep it partially hidden from view.  The house we're targeting wasn't on the road that brought me into the neighborhood, so I haven't had a chance to see it and know which tech to pack yet.  That just means I'll bring enough for either job and just decide once I arrive.  It gives me a bit of extra baggage to move around with, but that shouldn't bother me too much.

            "Parked and unpacked," I say in a low voice as I finish buckling the small bag with Ren's toys around my waist.  "Heading over to the target now."

            The evening has fully passed over into night now, so the darkness has become my ally.  It, along with my black clothing and natural ability to avoid light sources, means I travel through the backyards with as much ease as a mouse's shadow.  The house that Ren picked is only a few backyards away and luckily there are no fences to climb between us.  The lack of obstructions also means I get a decent view of it before I even arrive on the property.

            It's a dark brick- and vinyl-sided two-story house that I would say was built a little over a decade and a half ago.  It's been kept up over the years, but there has been little done in the way of landscaping.  Two plastic chairs and a large flower pot sit on a relatively empty back patio.  Without even getting close, the burning stink of recently extinguished cigarettes flicks at my nose telling me what the stone-laid sitting area is mostly used for.  Although smoking may be its primary use, at least it isn't being used to feed any addictions right now.  The place is empty.

            I smile as I realize the house doesn't appear to be too occupied.  I pick out a bedroom light on in an upstairs window, and there's one light on downstairs in what could be the kitchen.  Either they're holding a meeting in someone's sleeping area, or the majority of the residents are gone for the night.  And one of those seems much more likely than the other.

            "Looks good so far,” I say.  "Two lights on in the place.  One upstairs and one downstairs.  I can't pick out people yet due to a strong tobacco tang in the air, but I'm going to get closer and let you know."

            In a flash, I sprint the distance across the open backyard, leap over the brick patio and chairs, and land lightly on my toes next to the sliding glass door.  Being so close to their makeshift ashtray makes my eyes water, and I'd guess someone had been out here and making use of it recently.  There's no heat shimmers or smoke curling up from a smashed cigarette, but it’s the only way to explain the strong tobacco scent permeating the area.

            Ignoring the acrid stench behind me, I push my nose up against the crack between the glass door and the wall and inhale as deeply as I dare.  I still get more stink in my lungs than I want, but I'm sure part of that is due to the smokers bringing in traces of their bad habits with them.  The identifying scents of almost a dozen people circle through my brain as I categorize what I'm smelling, but only three of them register as being strong enough to have been here recently.  The others have been gone from the house for several hours at least. 

            Exhaling and pushing the lungful of air back out to clear the passageway, I push my nose even further into the crack to get a better pull and verify my guesses.  As I brace myself against the glass and push against it to lever my nostrils deeper into its crevasse, the door squeaks slightly and slides open against my face.

            Letting out a strangled "Ahh", I step back and examine the slightly opened doorway that I had just been snorting against.  Apparently in my enthusiasm I had managed to slide the unlocked door open.  Well, that was nice of them.  It'll certainly save me some time.

            A rapid series of clicks begin to emanate from my pants pocket, and I realize Ren is trying to figure out what just happened.  He must have heard my startled gasp.

            "It's ok," I whisper quietly trying to get my voice to travel to my throat mic, but not so far as to venture into the house's now open interior.  "Back door was unlocked.  Caught me by surprise.  I think I'm still clean."

            Taking advantage of the opportunity now afforded me, I lean forward and quickly huff the air seeping out through the crack. 
I was right.  Three guys inside.  One nearby on the main level and two others further away.  Most likely upstairs.  Probably explains the bedroom light.

            Not wanting to waste any opportunities, I look around for a spot to store one of the outdoor mikes near the smoking chairs.  I figure whoever comes out here to smoke most likely has to talk at some point and maybe some decent information will be picked up.  But there's nothing out here for me to hide the microphone on.  Just a brick wall, a flowerpot full of cigarettes and the chairs.  Then I figure why not go with the obvious?  The chairs.

            Tipping one of the chairs forward, I find a place in the plastic molding that would work perfectly.  Wedging the tiny microphone and transmitter into the spot, I pull out some 'concealer' that Ren had whipped up.  It's pink glue that once wadded up and smashed over the device will completely cover it and lock it into place.  And more importantly, it will look to the casual observer to just be a wad of chewed up bubble gum.  I'm hoping no one has a reason to ever look underneath the chair, but if they do, then hopefully the ugly wad of masticated gum will deter them from digging any further.

            Flipping the chair back into place, I say, "Mike one in place.  Outside on the patio.  Are we a go?"

            Stepping back over to the cracked door, I wait for the reply before moving any further.  Five seconds later I get it in the form of buzzes from my pocket.  He's reading the signal, and we're good.

            "Going inside now," I tell him and push the door open a bit more so that I can wriggle myself through and into the house.  The room that I step into is dimly lit by light coming from a hallway off to my left.  My guess is that it's the light I attributed to the kitchen earlier.  This room looks to be a family room with several couches, two armchairs and a large television decorating it.  It almost looks homey and lived in.  I'm not sure how much 'business' is discussed in this room, but it can't hurt to add it to the list. 

            Looking around the room for the best place to hide our tech, I decide on a light switch near two of the couches.  It should be close enough to pick up any conversations in that area, but inconspicuous enough behind the light switch to prevent our discovery.

            "Dropping second mike in light switch in main room," I whisper in a light breath.  "Give me ninety seconds and then verify."

            Stepping over to the wall and pulling out a screwdriver from Ren's pack, I quickly get to work on the screws holding the plate in place.  The little electric tool vibrates quietly in my hand as I move from screw to screw.  When the last one drops out, I bring out the microphone with my other hand and slip it into the dusty opening in the wall.  This particular tech comes with little alligator clips to be snapped onto the wires powering the switch.  It adds a few seconds to the installation, but the electricity it leeches should give us an infinite listening shelf life in this location.  With the clips clamped in place, I put the plate back on and spin the screws back in.

            Checking my memory, I smile.  The whole operation took me just over a minute.  Pretty good.

            "Done," I whisper and again wait for the reply.  A few seconds pass and then my pocket lets me know I was successful.

            We now have two microphones wired in here, which is more than we thought we'd get.  Especially getting one of them inside the house.  I'm tempted to stop here and just ease back out of the house and on to my final stop for the night, but I don't feel confident with the locations I got.  There's every chance that the outdoor mike will pick nothing up aside from cancer-ridden lung wheezing, and this microphone might get drowned out by the TV or it could be a room that never gets used at all.  I don't want to have to come back here, so it's best to get as many set up in one visit as possible.

            "Going for one more," I breathe and turn towards the lit hallway.  "Hoping for the kitchen."

            Ren doesn't give me his confirmation clicks until I'm almost all way to the open doorway, and I'm guessing he was considering our options, too.  I'm glad he decided to go with me on this one.  It makes me feel a little better.

            As I approach the hallway, I start to inhale deeply to cycle the air through my lungs as much as possible and try to pick up any new scents I hadn’t detected before.  Closing my eyes, I also try and focus on any sounds that I might be able to pick up. 

            No new scents catch my attention, and I take that as a good sign.  I don't think I have to worry about anyone other than the original three people I picked out earlier, and as long as I can keep a bead on them and where they are in relation to me then it should all be fine.  It's just a matter of keeping part of my concentration focused on them while also thinking about where to hide the tech.

            My ears tell me that there are voices coming from upstairs, and I can hear the rattle-y breath of a smoker somewhere close by.  I'm assuming Rattle Breath is the same guy that had been out back earlier and was the one who didn't lock the back door.  I've lucked out that he's the one on this level with me as he's a fairly easy one to track.  His sounds are not coming from the same direction as the lit room I want to get to, and that works out for me. 

            As I creep down the hall and through the glow created by the incandescent bulbs in the wall sconces, I keep my senses tuned to where he might be.  After a few steps into the hall, I see another passage that seems to lead off to the garage and laundry room, and that's where Rattle Breath is currently moving about.  I'm not sure what he's up to out there, but it's apparently something that involves dropping boxes and breathing loudly.