Off the Grid (A Gerrit O'Rourke Novel) (4 page)

And one bombing in Seattle. But he would never reveal that to anyone. They might question why he focused on the Russian in the first place.

“Old news,” Marilynn said, her face turning red.

“I’m reminding you of this because the guy who made this case almost got killed. Because I pushed, Gregori discovered Nico stepped up to the big time. Selling technology on the black market. More money. Less exposure. The guy taking all the chances,” Gerrit said, “has a name. Gregori Vasiliyevich Pyotor.”

“Now, there’s a mouthful.” She smirked. “In any event, he survived.”

Gerrit paused, clenching his teeth. “I almost got him killed because I missed something. And now the suits will want to crucify me for all this bad publicity. Wild shots on a ferryboat full of passengers. Almost getting my informant wasted. Letting the gunman slip away. Violating protocol—although whoever made up these rules never worked out in the field.”

“That’s why you always wind up in trouble. Making it an ‘us against them’ thing. That just sets people off, Gerrit—including me.” She folded her arms, giving him her prosecutorial stare as if cross-examining a hostile witness. “
Your
informant has been exposed because you screwed up. Because you did not follow the rules.” She let that hang for a moment. “Let’s just hope you can salvage something out of this mess that’ll make my boss happy. Otherwise…”

He withdrew the thumb drive from his pocket. “This ought to make him jump for joy. Gregori pulled this off Nico’s own computer before my guy got cold feet and started running. Nico must have gotten suspicious and had his people watching us to see if Gregori showed up. Taylor and I didn’t see the tail until it was too late.”

A smile softened the hard lines around Marilynn’s eyes as she reached for the drive. “Well, this gadget changes everything, sweetheart. This just might buy you a ticket out of the doghouse.”

Gerrit tightened his jaw. Gregori’s sacrifice seemed lost on her. “Yeah. My ticket almost cost another man his life.” He saw a sudden coldness enter her eyes, a look he couldn’t define. It flickered for a second, and then it was gone as quick as if she batted an eyelash.

Marilynn edged closer. “Did I ever tell you how much you turn me on when—”

A fist beat on the door. “Gerrit, you in there? Open up. Now.”

He pushed Marilynn away, working his way toward the door. He recognized that voice. Trouble just seemed to follow him today. He unlocked the door and grasped the handle.

Lieutenant Stan Cromwell launched himself into the room, first glancing at Gerrit, then eyeing Marilynn’s jacket still draped across the desk. “What the…?” He wheeled around to face Gerrit. “Taylor tells me you guys are being questioned by…these
feds
?” Each word doused with a heavy dose of contempt.

“Now, see here, Lieutenant. Gerrit’s assigned—”

“I’m not speaking to you right now, Summers. You’ll get your chance to flap your gums in a minute. Right now I wanna hear from my detective.” Thirty-five years on the street weathered Cromwell’s face like a desert sun beating down on parched land. He seemed to carry the weight of the department on his shoulder, broad muscular limbs matching his thick neck, fists the size of footballs strong enough to send an all-pro linebacker crashing to the turf but gentle enough to comfort a frightened child. Right know, the lieutenant did not look comforting. His neck swelled over his tight collar, veins pulsating a warning sign to anyone close enough to see.

Marilynn paused, thin lips pressing back a retort.

Gerrit faced his boss and filled him in.

“Where was your backup?”

Gerrit rested against the desk, his momentary silence making Cromwell’s face turn even more threatening. “We wanted to low-key this. It was just supposed to be a simple meet and talk.”

“A simple meet? Your informant almost gets blasted, the would-be killer and a couple other bad guys disappear, shots fired into a crowd…and you call this simple?”

“How were we to—?”

“You’re expected to think these operations through, O’Rourke. No more of your lone cowboy stuff. That’s what keeps getting you in trouble. It’s why I warned them about letting you…” He stopped, as if suddenly realizing they were not alone.

Putting on her jacket, Marilynn faced Cromwell. “We picked Gerrit because of his…special abilities.”

Cromwell watched as she buttoned up the jacket. “He’s special, all right. A special pain in the ass.”

Marilynn crossed her arms. “You know what I’m talking about, Lieutenant. His language skills, his MIT background. That’s why we went to your chief to ask he be assigned to us. And besides, he and his partner were already working on Nico.”

Gerrit shifted his feet. “Hey, I’m standing right here.”

The lieutenant peeled his attention away from Marilynn. “I know you have a lot to offer, O’Rourke. That’s why I let them talk me into creating this specialized unit. But if I feel things are starting to come unglued, I’m pulling the plug. I don’t care how many high-value targets you guys take down. I won’t jeopardize the department, even for you.”

Almost imperceptibly, Cromwell’s craggy face softened. All the officers knew Cromwell’s rise in rank came at the direction of the chief; each rise up the ladder had been forced on this man. Cromwell just wanted to work cases, to work the street. Respect from the rank and file allowed him to lash out at his officers when they screwed up, where other supervisors might have wound up in the hospital with a broken nose. It was why Gerrit kept his mouth shut right now.

Cromwell seemed to relax for the first time since entering the room. “You’re the best we have, O’Rourke. I know that. But I can’t have you going off the reservation and taking matters into your own hands. That’s how you’ll wind up dead, and maybe take your partner down with you. Understand?”

Gerrit nodded.

“You’re like a son to me.”

Gerrit smiled.

A look of irritation flashed across Cromwell’s face. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re fifty-four. You’re only ten years older than I am—if that.”

“That’s not how I feel at the moment.” His features relaxed until he glanced at Marilynn. He turned as if to ignore her, his voice lowering. “I know why you do what you do. That’s why I have my eye on you.”

Marilynn glanced at Cromwell with a puzzled look.

“I understand, Lieutenant. I never thought we’d have to call out the cavalry on this.”

“Let’s just get you through this mess. I hope something good can come out of it. Were you able to get anything from the snitch?”

Gerrit told him about the computer drive.

“Well, start using that brain of yours and get this Russian crook behind bars.” Cromwell turned to face Marilynn. “Get this guy cleared as soon as possible. I’ll handle the details on my end. And bring this case to a close before I’m forced to pull the plug on our participation. Understand?”

Marilynn nodded, giving him a look that said he just made an enemy. “I understand perfectly. So, if you will excuse us, Gerrit and I need to finish our conversation.”

Cromwell glared at her, then glanced over at Gerrit. Without saying another word, the lieutenant wheeled around and marched out of the room.

La Jolla, California

D
arkness drenched the Pacific Ocean beyond the shoreline, the moon allowing just enough light from the shore to highlight specks of sea foam churned by pounding waves. Gerrit caught a glimpse of the water before the van door closed.

Taylor eased into the seat next to him. “Okay, SWAT’s in place and Marilynn just came through with warrants. Agents en route from San Diego’s federal building with the paper. They should be here in twenty.”

“Marilynn’s not bringing the warrants?”

“Nope. Cromwell called and said she jumped on a red-eye back to D.C. as soon as a federal judge put his John Henry on the paper.”

“Cromwell? I thought he was still up in Seattle.”

Taylor shrugged.

Gerrit glanced up as the monitor tapped into the target’s security system. The last two months since the ferry shooting had passed with a blur of activity, almost as blurry as his relationship with Marilynn. They’d been together a couple times since that last tense meeting with Cromwell. And those few times they were together—beyond the physical—they lived like strangers going through the motions.

“Okay, I’ve accessed the primary suspect’s computer.” Gerrit typed a command on the keyboard in front of him. “Once I get into his system, I’ll be able to see what he’s looking at. Thanks to Gregori, we’ve got all of Nico’s codes.”

Taylor watched him hit the final strokes as the screen opened up. “Man, you always freak me out with this stuff. Learned all this when you went to that fancy school back east? How to hack into other people’s business?”

“MIT. Massachusetts Institute of Technology. One of the best schools to learn how to hack and track whomever you choose. By the way, I canceled your dinner date for next week.”

“How’d you know…?” Taylor glared at him.

Gerrit smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Pulling my leg again. With all your computer savvy, I never know whether you’re on the up-and-up.” Taylor shifted in his seat. “I can’t figure you out, bro. You walk away with a doctorate in some kind of technology I can’t even pronounce—to become a cop? They should’ve bounced you on the psychological. Must have bribed somebody in the department to pass that test. A real mental case.”

Taylor leaned over and poked him with a finger. “If I was you, I’d be making a killing in the private sector—all that nano mumbo jumbo everyone’s talking about. Instead, you’re hanging around in a van with the likes of me. Personally, I think you’ve got a screw loose.”

Gerrit glanced up at a monitor, and a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder loomed on the screen. “Okay, we’re in business.” He clicked through a number of camera locations inside the suspect’s dwelling. “I count five men walking security. I think Nico’s in his office or bedroom, but his security system doesn’t monitor either location. I saw him walk in that direction a moment ago.”

Taylor nodded. “How’d you get access to his computer, Einstein?”

“If I told you, I’d have to shoot you.” He leaned closer, studying the monitor. “Same technology you can buy off the market to monitor your kids or employees—but a lot more sophisticated. Rigged up so the suspect doesn’t know we climbed into his system.”

Another monitor in the van caught his attention. A red dot blinked on and off. “There, he’s in the master bedroom…wait a minute. We have another marker going off.” Headlights flashed on yet another screen. A car pulled into Nico’s gated driveway. “Uh-oh. We got trouble.”

“I hate it when you say that.” Taylor pulled closer.

“See that second dot? That’s one of Nico’s cars.”

“If Nico is in the bedroom, who’s using his wheels?”

“His family—wife and daughter. I thought they were supposed to be away for the weekend. Up at their place in Tahoe.”

“Must be a change in plans.”

Gerrit leaned back in the swivel chair. “This complicates everything. SWAT’s going to hit that place in just a few minutes. And now we have two innocents in the way. One of them a five-year-old girl.” He snatched up the portable. “Team leader to Alpha One.”

“Go, Team Leader.” Special Agent Peter Finch, SWAT leader, continued. “We just moved into place. Ready to move out?”

“Stand down until further notice. I’ll eighty-seven you in two.”

Finch keyed the mike twice in acknowledgment.

Taylor leaned over. “Where you going, Gerrit? The entry team’s all set. Just waiting for the warrants to get here.”

“I’m going in with them. Need to protect that child. This jerk might use his own child as leverage.”

“Oh, man, Gerrit. Can’t you just let someone else handle this?”

“Stats just changed, Mark. Before, our safety margin was high—90 percent chance of our people staying safe with shock and awe. Now, that just changed. With innocent people on board, our chances dropped 50 percent because our guys might have to hold back their firepower. I’ve got an idea to change that threat ratio.”

Gerrit snatched up his Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun and several extra magazines, slipping out the door before his partner started in again. The salty night breeze swept up the hillside, off the ocean, like a cool sweep of a hand. He inserted an extension wire to his portable, plugging an earpiece in place before clipping the radio to his belt.

He scrambled toward the SWAT van a block ahead. He tapped twice on the rear door and climbed in. The target residence stood another fifty yards away, hidden by a dense cluster of trees.

Inside, Peter Finch, greased up for war, edged in Gerrit’s direction. “For crying out loud, Gerrit, we’re ready to go in right now.”

Gerrit pulled out a portable monitor, showing GPS markers blinking in the darkened command van. “The target’s family just showed up. We have to adjust our entry and takedown.”

Muted red illumination inside the vehicle did little to conceal the tenseness in Finch’s face. “We can’t change our plans. My men will separate the family from Nico when we hit the place.”