Agent Anderson closed the door and joined the group. “Agent Anderson, thanks for bringing Mr. Dickenson and Ms. Strickland up, but your presence isn’t necessary.”
Anderson’s neck muscles twitched in anger. Thankfully, the agent kept it together and left the room. The only sign that he was pissed off was the slamming of the door behind him as he left.
“God, I hate that guy,” Ethan said when Anderson left the room.
Murphy ignored Ethan and opted to get right to the point. “What do you know about the current situation, Ms. Strickland?” Murphy listened as Kira explained what she’d been able to piece together with Blayne’s help. Murphy filled in a few details that weren’t classified along the way.
“You really think someone is trying to assassinate my client?”
“I’m not one who normally believes in conspiracy theories,” Murphy acknowledged. “But something is definitely going on here. To be completely honest, this puzzle has so many missing pieces.”
The lawyer let out a long breath. “And you think this all has to do with something on my client’s cell phone?”
“That’s the working theory,” Murphy responded. “I have a FISA warrant for your cell phone, Mr. Bond, but I would much rather ask for your cooperation. We want to clone your phone and send it to the NCIJTF for analysis—with your permission, of course.”
Ethan turned to his lawyer for advice. She nodded, so Ethan pulled out his cell and slid it across the table. Murphy slid the phone to her partner, who pulled a box out of his pocket and plugged Ethan’s phone into it.
“What now?” Kira asked.
“I think we need to do the same thing we did with Mr. Bond’s friend Stephanie in New Orleans. We need to get him to a safe house. I think it’s not a bad idea for all three of you to be put into protective custody at this point.” The lawyer started to protest, but Murphy kept going. “I know it’s inconvenient, but your picture is associated with Mr. Bond. For your safety, I think having you in a safe house until we know what’s going on is the best move.”
“What the fuck?” Harper blurted.
“What’s wrong?” Murphy asked.
“Something happened to the cell phone. I think I tripped something with the clone. Fuck, fuck,fuck,” Harper said as he unplugged the phone from the cloning device. Everyone watched as Harper punched at Ethan’s phone.
“What happened?” Murphy asked.
“It’s gone. It’s wiped clean.”
* * * *
Dr. Hennigan
Dr. Hennigan buckled her seatbelt. From her seat, she could stare out of the cockpit window and watch as the ground quickly approached the aircraft. She was always amazed at how much the airplane bumped to and fro when it descended into an airport. The plane ride may feel smooth, but the slightest pockets of turbulence could cause the plane to jostle left, right, up and down. In fact, when one looked out of the cockpit window, a landing was anything but a smooth process.
She closed her eyes, leaned back and waited for the wheels to hit the tarmac. She steadied herself for what lay ahead. Her mission from her mother and grandmother had been clear. Retrieve the phone or ensure it was destroyed. Ideally, she could walk up and threaten Ethan Bond with his life if he didn’t hand the phone over, then take the blasted thing and walk away. She sighed internally, knowing things rarely turned out as easily as she wanted them to.
The wheels hit the tarmac, and she felt the force of the backward thrusters push her back into her seat as the plane slowed down. Dr. Hennigan opened her eyes and watched as the aircraft rolled past what counted as the airport’s terminal. The words ‘West Houston Airport’ were emblazoned on the brown boxy building. A ground crew member ushered the jet to its parking point. Five black SUVs were parked, waiting for her to exit the plane. She changed into her tactical gear while in flight, so she was ready to move as soon as the aircraft stopped.
“Ms. Wilson?” Dr. Hennigan asked, tapping a communication device on her shoulder. “Can you hear me? I’m on the ground in Houston.”
“Loud and clear, ma’am. I commandeered a satellite and can see your jet and the SUVs from my vantage point.”
“How do things look at the Emerald City?”
“Dorothy is still in the Emerald City. Scarecrow and Tin Man showed up there, too.”
“Thanks!” Before she’d left The Complex, she and Ms. Wilson had decided to use Wizard of Oz as the callsigns for this operation because of the FBI Complex’s nickname. Ethan’s callsign was Dorothy. And Kira Strickland was the Scarecrow because she was a lawyer. Blayne Dickenson was the Tin Man because he represented Dorothy’s heart. Of course, Dr. Hennigan fashioned herself as the wizard because she was pulling all the strings behind the scenes, and no one knew it.
The pilot exited the cockpit and lowered the stairs for Dr. Hennigan so she could exit the plane. Denzili, Richardson, Fox, and Kramer were standing in a line of military parade rest as Dr. Hennigan left the plane. She looked at the operatives through her sunglasses and said, “Report.”
Richardson spoke. “We have five SUVs. Each SUV has an additional three operatives—one driver and two strike force members. This gives us twenty personnel, including yourself, for this assignment.”
“And the vehicles?” Dr. Hennigan asked.
“They exceed NATO’s Standardization Agreement for kinetic energy, blast and artillery threats. We brought the BMW X Five series models. They’re fast. All drivers have trained on right-hand driving consoles, so the European design isn’t a problem.”
