Chapter Fourteen
Stepping off the elevator, Jason looked around and wasn't unimpressed. There had not been very many changes since he left, but the place looked quite a lot different from when he was there. He guessed that perhaps the change of leadership had given a different aspect and aura to the entire field office. He hadn't told anyone his ETA, but either they had psychic powers or it was just mere chance or coincidence because if his eyes were not deceiving him, Veronica was coming toward him in a manner that screamed, 'I knew you had arrived!'.
“Hello Jason,” she smiled winningly, giving him her hand.
He shook it and surveyed her.
“You look good, Nika,” he commended.
“You're not doing badly yourself. Miami has surely helped you. This way.”
“Thanks. I know the way.”
“Sorry. I guess I'm still the guest,” she quietly apologized.
Jason didn't reply; he just trudged on in silence. As he walked, he surveyed his surroundings, picking out significant changes. Veronica walked beside him, her heels clicking firmly on the hard floor.
“Did you wear those heels specially for me?”, he asked without looking at her.
“Frankly,” she began, with a slight smile while opening the door and ushering him into the conference room. “I hate to land your ego right on its ass, but no, I wore them for myself.”
“Cause it seems to me you needed the extra height just to intimidate me.”
“Your insecurity speaking of course. Please do have a seat.”
“What are we doing here?”, Jason asked, looking around the room.
“You came in for a reason, didn't you? So take a seat and let's fill you in.”
“I don't mean to be rude, Nika,” Jason began, standing behind a chair, “but I think I'd like to be briefed by Tony. We'll go faster and easier, plus it would spare your precious time.”
“Okay,” she sighed and started packing up the files on the table. “Whatever you say.”
Jason led the way. He opened the door, bowed low and ushered her out with a flourish.
“My lady,” he said, cocking his head as he bowed.
“My lord,” she responded with a slight smile and a stiff bow. “I'm guessing you know the way to Tony's station?”
“Why not let's go together. There's been some changes in this place.”
“Sure.”
“Won't you take my arm, m'lady,” he said, offering her his arm.
“I'd like to avoid creating a scene, if you don't mind. And by the way, I'm married.”
“Oh. Wow. Who's the unlucky man?”
“I'll pretend I didn't hear that,” she replied with feigned anger.
Jason chuckled in response as they made their way to Tony's workstation. He swept his eyes around the bull pen, giving nods and smiles to those he'd worked with in the past, which were not so many. But Tony, noticing their approach, quickly got off his chair and was at a loss what next to do. He just stood there, rubbing his hands nervously. Veronica noticed his uneasiness immediately.
“Watching porn again?”, she asked, looking intently at him.
“What! No! I.. uh.. just, you know.. surprised to see you, that's all.”
“You better not be watching porn. The next time I catch you.. I don't mind losing critical staff, I'll send your ass to Siberia in a garbage truck. Now, you have to brief Mr. Raids on the Barlough situation. I'll join you in a minute.”
With that, she dropped the files and turned on her heels.
“Make yourself comfortable, Raids,” she told Jason as she walked past. “I'll be back in a minute.”
Tony pulled out a chair for Jason and began rubbing his hands again enthusiastically.
“Long time since I've seen you, Mr. Raids,” he beamed. “Is it two years? Time really runs fast. How's Chrissie.. and the girls back in Miami?”
“So you still watch porn, uh Tony?”, Jason asked, avoiding his questions.
“Says you. I admit to nothing. Well, I've got some hot ones right here. Which would you love to see? Bla...”
“I prefer intel on the Randy situation.”
“Yeah, right. Where do we start from?”
“From the beginning.”
“Great. Uh.. Randolph Henry Barlough was born December 21st, 1970 in Austin, Texas. He was the so...”
“Are you high on something, Tony?”, Jason asked angrily.
“No. Why?”
“Cause you seem to be in self-destruct mode today. You really are daring me, aren't you?”
“Whoa! What'd I do? You said start at the beginning and that's ahem...”
Veronica Roane was coming toward them and Tony quickly composed himself.
“Like I was saying,” he began in a serious voice. “After you left u...”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Veronica chipped, standing behind the men. “Just how far have you gone?”
“Uh.. not far, ma'am. We're just uh.. ahem.. getting started.”
“We have no time for pleasantries, Aurello. This is serious business and every second is important.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Have you told Mr. Raids about Sam Canty?”
“Ahem.. no, ma'am.”
“So what the hell have you been doing?”
Tony was silent. She turned to Jason.
“You see why it's a bad idea getting briefed by this madman. We should have been done by now if we were still in the conference room. Do you still wanna continue with him?”
“Yeah sure,” Jason replied with a forced smile.
“You're staying?”, Tony asked timidly.
“Of course,” Veronica frowned and crossed her arms, still standing behind them. “Continue, Agent Aurello.”
“Please have a seat, ma'am,” Tony admonished.
“Thanks. I'll stand.”
Tony then began, seriously this time. He informed Jason of Randy's switching of sides which occurred just after Jason left the FBI.
Randy had gone undercover with an international criminal gang led by a clever illegal weapons dealer, Sam Canty, who was also a former M16 agent. His objective was to infiltrate the group and to find out what exactly they intended to do by starting a base in the US. The FBI still had no clue about what really happened, but Randy suddenly went dark. He was unreachable and no one had any idea where he could be found. The group could not be traced either.
It didn't rattle the Bureau at first, but after 48 hours of total silence, teams were dispatched to locations the group was known to frequent in the past, but all to no avail. They could not find any evidence that could point them in the right direction. It was as if neither Randy nor the group ever existed. The necessary precautions were taken, the alert level was raised and Sam Canty moved several places up the FBI's most wanted list. The priority was to find Canty, Randy and the group.
Quickly, heads began to roll and some were sacrificed at various altars to save some asses. Leadership was immediately changed at the LA field office and more support poured in from the headquarters in DC. The group was considered very dangerous as it consisted of vastly experienced military veterans, mercenaries and hackers. Their reputation and association with organized crime in other countries was wildly notorious and the FBI swiftly swung into action to prevent the US from joining the list. Sam Canty was a jack of all illegal trades and it was even rumored that he had ties with various terrorist organizations, so chances were not to be taken on this one.
Tony showed his friend photographs, taken by backup agents, of some members of the group and their leader. In most of the photos, Jason noticed that Canty was not careless as to his exposure. He always positioned himself at difficult angles and shielded his features with various styles of clothing. The man was good at what he did, no wonder he had had great success so far. Tony was now informing him of the first time, after his disappearance, that Randy made contact. It was 70 hours or so after he went dark. Randy contacted the field office and asked to speak to the assistant director.
The assistant director at the time was glad to have him back, but the conversation didn't go as expected. It was short and concise. The ADIC had no chance to say much. Randy simply told him, in a venom-filled voice, that he would begin his revenge on the FBI in a few weeks, starting with the LA Field Office. Then the connection broke off. He did not state his reasons or what he sought to avenge and worse still, the call could not be traced. It was just as if he had called out of nowhere and disappeared back to nowhere.
“How did you know it was Randy?”, Jason asked.
“It was Randy alright,” Tony replied testily. “I ran the voice recognition myself. In fact, you can listen to it yourself.”
“Hmm. Anything can happen. So the convoy bombing was the first act?”
“Yeah. Two weeks after the call, we got a tip...”
“From who?”
“Uh.. just this dude that had a shop close to one of the group's known meet-up points. After Randy's disappearance, it was deserted, but this guy called to say there were a lot of suspicious looking vehicles coming into the place.”
“So you guys sent a team.”
“Several,” Veronica cut in. “Knowing the group's reputation, my predecessor thought it wise to be extra prepared, but we lost two teams. The rest took a diff...”
“Did you guys ever get down to the site.. where the vehicles were seen?”
“We later did, but the place was clean. The laundryman that tipped us said the vehicles left not long before we arrived. We tried to trace them, but it seems they used fake license plates.”
“What about satellite.. traffic cams?”
“Nothing,” Tony replied. “They just vanished.”
“Vehicles don't vanish, Tony,” Jason said thoughtfully. “What about the laundry guy?”
“What about him?”
“We had him on surveillance,” Veronica cut in again, with an angry glance at Tony. “But nothing turned up. I think that's a dead end.”
“Any other leads?”, Jason asked, looking alternatively at Veronica and Tony.
“None,” Tony replied while Veronica shook her head.
“Why do you think Barlough's doing this, Jason?”, she suddenly asked.
“Don't know,” he shrugged as Tony's eyes shot up on hearing her call him by his first name.
“We've gone through everything we have on him, but nothing seems off...”
“Yet,” Jason completed.
“You'll find something soon enough,” he added in response to her questioning glance. “Randy would never do something like this without a very serious reason.”
“Where to?”, she asked as he got to his feet.
“Oh just wanna take a little tour around the city. Will be back before long. And Tony.. when I get back, I'd like to see absolutely every file you have on Canty.”
“Sure.”
Jason left them and made his way to the elevator. Veronica watched him from the corner of her eye and as soon as he was out of sight, headed straight to her office. Closing the door behind her, she dialed a number on her phone.
“Yeah?”, a gruff voice answered.
“He's out now. Stick with him. Don't let him out of your sight and report back to me every 15 minutes.”
“Got it.”