The Insider Threat (7 page)

K
nuckles held out the bag and Brett said, “Why me?”

“Because you can run like a cheetah. I get caught, and I’m doing some serious explaining as it is with this paint on me. You get caught, and it’s because you wanted to.”

He was right in that assessment. Brett was somewhat of a freak of nature on foot, running faster than anyone I’d ever met. I said, “Look at it this way, if you did this as a singleton, you’d be carrying it anyway.”

He took the bag and our earpieces squelched. “Pike, Retro. Panda and the Nigerian have made linkup. Meeting ongoing, and he’s already passed some sort of package across.”

All right. Intel.

I said, “Sounds good. Keep us abreast of what’s happening. Drop team is on the way.”

I turned to the two cat burglars and said, “Get lost. You need to be in and out before the meeting breaks up. I need you for phase two.”

Brett slid the door open, saying, “See you on the back side.”

They disappeared into the darkness and I began readying the kit necessary for the takedown. Tasers, drugs, and flex ties.

I called Blaine, saying, “Meeting’s ongoing. We’ve got a lock-on to the target, as briefed. What’s the status with Omega?”

“What’s the status with the product?”

“Being executed now.”

He said, “Stand by.”

I sat in the van, listening to the cooling engine tick in the darkness, waiting. Resisting the urge to contact Retro or Knuckles to see what was going on. I saw two men coming down the street, barely visible and blending into the shadows. They stopped outside the van, whispering to each other.

Great. Just what I need. Someone looking for some hubcaps.

I leaned forward from the back, keeping to the shadows, and flashed the lights. They jumped like a firecracker had gone off behind them and scurried away, making me smile.

I waited another seven minutes, growing antsy. Finally, the command net came alive. “Pike, Showboat. You got Omega with a caveat.”

“Roger. What’s the caveat?”

“Everything has to be perfect. You have the target and can get him without drama.”

“That’s always a rule.”

“Pike, don’t push my buttons. This isn’t my first rodeo with you. Straight from the Oversight Council—if it smells even a little bad, you let him go to get wrapped up with everyone else.”

“Okay. Roger all. You set with the Nairobi cops?”

“That was a little too quick. You understand the intent?”

I heard the team radio squawk.

I said, “Sir, I got it. Gotta go. Team’s calling.”

I clicked off without waiting on him to reply and said, “Last calling station, this is Pike.”

“Pike, Retro. Meeting’s breaking up.”

“Already?”

“Yep. Leader’s standing up.”

Shit
. “Does he have the package?”

“Yeah. It was one of those padded envelopes. He opened it. I saw an old-school flip phone and a notebook.”

“Keep eyes on. . . . Break, break, Knuckles, this is Pike. Status.”

“We haven’t gone in yet. Got some squatters drinking chang’aa.”

Chang’aa was an ungodly home brew that was about fifty percent alcohol and fifty percent formaldehyde, battery acid, jet fuel, or some other liquid. I said, “How long have you been watching?”

Knuckles said, “Since we got here. They’re blitzed, but conscious. Wait, one just fell over.”

“Ignore them. Get in. They’re too stoned to remember anything.”

“It would make more sense to just sit them out. A few more minutes, and they’ll both be sleeping.”

“I don’t have that time. Panda’s meeting’s breaking up.”

Brett came on. “If they intervene? What’s the ROE?”

“Prevent them from seeing Knuckles enter. Period. Just get in, now. The leader’s about to move and I can’t execute without you two.”

In a calm monotone I heard, “Roger all.”

By all accounts, I should have aborted the second phase, letting the leader go. The situation had already exceeded Blaine’s intent, but luckily, his idea of “perfect” and mine were two different things. I wanted the leader.

Jennifer came on. “Pike, Koko. Leader’s shaking hands. What’s the call?”

Koko
was Jennifer’s callsign. Something she’d earned on a mission in Indonesia by annoying Knuckles with repeated stories about a talking gorilla.

I said, “We have Omega. No change to the plan. You guys lock the back door.”

She said, “I monitored last transmission. You have an assault element?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

I heard nothing for a moment, then a long-drawn-out “Roger that. . . .”

The problem with the two-phased operation was that I had to use the same team for both. I had planned it for a staggered execution, but now it had become simultaneous. Retro and Jennifer would do nothing but prevent the guy from escaping. Brett would drive the van, and Knuckles and I would do a rolling interdiction. But that was all dependent on having Brett and Knuckles. I couldn’t very well drive the van
and
assault.

Brett came on, breathing heavily, “Inbound, inbound, fire up the van. We’re dragging an anchor.”

I leapt into the driver’s seat, saying, “Where are you?”

All I heard was, “Coming out right where we entered.”

Which was about a half mile down the road. I started driving, saying, “What’s up?”

“Gang territory. Chang’aa brewery.”

“Knuckles?”

He came on, sounding like he was breathing into a paper bag. “Can’t talk.”

I saw movement ahead, and recognized Brett in the headlights. I stomped the gas, reaching him just as Knuckles broke out of the close confines of the buildings. Brett jerked open the sliding door, and both spilled inside. I looked to my right and saw a pack of shouting youths waving sticks and running up the alley.

Brett slammed the door shut and shouted, “Go, go, go!”

I did, hearing something slam into the back of the van. I went about a quarter mile, circling back toward Ngong Road, then stopped. I turned around and said, “What the hell did you two chuckleheads do?”

Knuckles sat up, his dreadlock wig askew and his paint starting to run. He said, “I ought to kick your ass for making me wear this.”

I said, “Tell me you didn’t compromise the operation.”

Brett said, “No. That went fine. Drugs are in place. In fact, everything went fine right up until we were walking back through the neighborhood. A couple of thugs stopped us, demanding to know what we were doing in their AO. Apparently, there’s been some gang fighting between the various chang’aa brewers over turf. We just had the bad fortune to stumble into it.”

“And?”

Brett grinned. “And everything was going perfectly, right up until they shoved Knuckles. It was too dark to tell he was a cracker white boy, but his dreadlocks slipped. They saw that just fine.”

Knuckles said, “Tell him the rest, you shit.”

“What?”

Knuckles looked at me and said, “He took off running. Leaving me behind.”

Brett held up his hands, saying, “Just following orders. You said no fighting that would spike.”

I laughed and said, “All right, all right. Shake it off. Phase two is a go. We’ve got Omega and the leader’s on the move. Brett, take the wheel. Knuckles, get ready.”

Brett and I switched positions, and Knuckles growled, “I oughtta use the damn Taser on him.”

I called Retro and Jennifer. “Koko, Retro, this is Pike. Assault element secure. Moving your way.”

Retro said, “Pike, we’ve got an issue. The target is being tailed by one of Panda’s security. The black guy from inside the hotel that Koko swiped with ABS.”

I
heard the transmission and cursed. We were now moving out of what even
I
would call perfect conditions.

“Why? What happened? What did the target do to spike security?”

“Nothing. I think Panda’s actually providing him protection without him knowing.”

“Is he moving on the projected route?”

“Yeah, but we can’t take him in view of the security.”

We had planned on assaulting the target just south of Adams Arcade. There was a road that ran east to west on the southern edge, acting as a border between the security of the mall and a flea market called Toi. Unlike Adams Arcade, Toi was a maze of vendors jam-packed together in makeshift huts, and was a local favorite for buying secondhand clothing. Most of the stalls would be closed at this hour, but not all.

I looked at the map and said, “Okay, we’re bumping the kill zone one road to the south. See Kinangop? See where it curves? He hits that and he’ll trail it back to Kangethe and home. Hopefully.”

I looked at Brett. “Start moving. Stage on Joseph Kangethe Road where Kinangop dead-ends into it.”

Jennifer came on. “He just broke out of Adams Arcade. He’s into the Toi Market, and security’s still following. What about him?”

We had maybe three minutes.

She repeated, “What about the security following him?”

“Retro interdicts him. He’s the only one that’s clean. Retro, can you penetrate inside Toi?”

“Yeah. I can get in. I’ll stick out, but that’s not the problem. I take out the security and everybody’s going to see.”

I said, “Retro, don’t take him out. Just stop him. Is he well dressed?”

“Yeah, he’s in a suit.”

“Okay, act like you’re lost. Act like a tourist. Stop him as a nice-looking Kenyan and ask for directions. We only need seconds. Get a gap between him and the target.”

Jennifer said, “And me?”

Brett stopped the van, saying, “We’re here.”

I said, “All elements, we’re staged. Koko, penetrate into Toi with Retro. Split when he moves to the security man. Same profile. Prevent the target from running back the way he came.”

I didn’t want to do that, because a single white female walking around out here was like dropping bloody chunks of meat into shark-infested water. I heard nothing for a moment, then Jennifer said, “Pike, target’s spotted security. He’s getting skittish.”

“Okay, okay, stay on him. Nothing’s changed.”

“He’s speed-walking now. I say again, he’s moving fast through the stalls. He’s headed west, not south.”

My first thought was
Abort.

I looked at the map, seeing my plan of action was way off. I said, “He’ll hit Suna Road, then go south. This is it. Retro, interdict security. Jennifer, stick with him. Brett, get up there. Get to the intersection of Suna and Kinangop.”

He goosed the engine and we went flying past our projected kill zone. Knuckles said, “We’re not going to make it in time. He’ll be through the intersection before we get there.”

“Nothing I can do about possibles. We’ll deal with the situation when we get there.” I keyed the radio. “Jennifer, Retro, status?”

Jennifer said, “I lost him in the stalls. He’s headed straight west.”

From Retro, I heard mumbled conversation. He couldn’t talk, and had keyed the mike to let me know he was executing.

Brett raced up Kinangop, luckily the only car on the road, the weak headlights from the van providing barely enough illumination for the speed we were going.

Jennifer called, “I’m on Suna. I see him. He’s running south now. And I mean running.”

Retro came on. “Security’s broken contact. He got sick of me, and he’s moving west.”

Blaine’s orders flicked through my head.
The drugs are set. I should really let him go.

I saw the intersection of Suma and Kinangop just as Jennifer called, saying, “He’s going east now. He’s on your road, but I’ve got an issue. Some youths are following me. Closing on me. No idea of their intentions.”

What else can happen? Where’s my luck?

“Retro, get to Koko, now. Break, break, Koko, we’re ten seconds out. Keep moving south. Call if you need help.”

She said nothing, but I could feel her wrath at my words. Knuckles said, “Pike, maybe we should . . .”

Before he could finish his sentence, something flashed in front of our headlights like a bad horror-movie strobe effect. There one second, gone the next. I strained my eyes outside the window, and finally saw my vaunted luck. It was a tall African, waving his arms to get us to stop.

The leader.

You’re kidding me. About time.

“Brett, see if we can help that man out.”

He grinned and pulled over. Our target ran to the passenger window, shouting something in broken English. Knuckles slid open the side door and stepped out. The Nigerian glanced toward him, saw his wig and running black face paint. He drew back, confused and alarmed. I followed Knuckles and the man backed away, preparing to sprint. Knuckles hit him with the Taser, dropping him like a sack of dirt.

We heaved him into the back of the van, Knuckles keeping the juice going while I stabilized him. Knuckles slammed the door shut and Brett called the dismounted team. “Retro, Koko, status.”

Retro said, “I got her. I’m with her, but the thugs are still following. They’re blocking our ability to get back into Toi. You want me to escalate?”

Meaning,
Can I draw my weapon?

I said, “Negative. Let’s see if we can’t get you out clean.”

Brett hit the gas while I flex-tied the leader, his head rolling left and right. I pulled out the manila envelope from under his shirt, a flip phone and notebook spilling to the floor of the van.
Jackpot
. Knuckles readied a syringe and the target began flopping up and down, like a fish trying to get back into the water. I used my weight to hold him down and Knuckles hit him with the sedative. He thrashed a bit more, then his eyes rolled back into his head.

Brett slammed through the intersection, ripping right hard enough to fling us into the side. He said, “I got them, I got them.”

I leaned forward and saw Retro walking quickly with Jennifer, holding her hand like they were a couple. Behind them was a pack of men following like wolves pacing a wounded deer. Lost tourists they planned on fleecing as soon as the hapless couple cleared the area of Toi and entered the outskirts of the slum.

Retro said, “Is that you to my front?”

“Yeah, we’re going to roll right up. Get to us and get in. If they start running with you, we’ll handle it.”

Brett pulled abreast, the headlights on the group thirty meters away. Jennifer broke into a sprint, with Retro right behind her. The thugs were surprised for a split second, then began to give chase, two starting to catch up.

Jennifer dove inside, followed by Retro. The door slammed shut and we were gone, hearing nothing but a couple of fists banging the quarter panel.

Brett swerved onto the main road in front of the mall, and I got smacked in the shoulder by Jennifer.

“Call if I’m in trouble?
Call if I’m in trouble?
Really? That’s
why
I called.”

I said, “Hey, I knew Retro had your back.”

Knuckles said, “Don’t blame me; I tried to get him to help.”

I said, “What? In the hotel you said I was on the verge of compromising the mission because I thought Jennifer might be in trouble. Now I’m at fault for letting her work it out?”

She muttered something and I turned to Brett, telling him to get rolling toward the support crew in the storage garage. I started to call Blaine, then paused, saying, “Everyone listen. No matter what Blaine asks, this went perfectly, okay?”

Knuckles said, “Why?”

Jennifer squinted and said, “What are you hiding?”

All innocent I said, “Nothing. Just tell Blaine it went like clockwork. Trust me, that would be for the best.”