“Yes,” Burke said. “And I’ll get in touch with the FBI agents who are taking your statement after I have.”
Brandon emerged from the back seat, nervously looking around. He used one hand to kind of hide his face from view. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with regarding my dad. If he sends someone to that warehouse, you’re going to need a hell of a lot more manpower than the four of you.”
Jackson grabbed his arm. “Come on. I’ll stay between you and the view that isn’t blocked by the plane, cars, or the hangar.” He rushed him to the plane. After Ellison was aboard, Jackson returned to the four men of Charlie Team, who now all stood beside the two SUVs. “Hey, do you think he was being paranoid,or do you think there is a real chance you could be overwhelmed at the warehouse?”
The four men exchanged glances. “We ran into two separate groups. One at the warehouse, approximately four men, and two other vehicles on the drive here,” Wilson replied. “If you’re asking because Cooper can spare one or two of you, we’ll take the assistance.”
Jackson nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried to the aircraft, which now had everyone on board. He returned with his backpack a few minutes later. “You have me if you want me,” he said.
“We do. Thank you,” Wilson said. “We’ll leave the white SUV here, but let’s change the plates on our vehicle,” he said to Burke.
Burke opened the back of the agency SUV and grabbed a set of alternate license plates they kept in it. He handed the front plate and a screwdriver to Wilson. While Wilson switched out the front plates, Burke took care of the back plates. Then the five men got into the vehicle and they drove away, leaving the white SUV parked beside the hangar.
Golf
The garage door was closed when they arrived back at the warehouse just after sunset. It was open when they left. Wilson drove by the warehouse, which had no vehicles in its parking lot. They had the key to the back door, the front door, and the garage code, provided by Valerie Butler.
Wilson circled the block and parked in the gravel parking lot of the warehouse directly behind the target building. There were a dozen cars parked in the lot around them. The sign said, A to Z Auto. All the garage bays were closed.
“We approach the target warehouse from here. Moe, is there any way we’ll get in through the back door?”
“Not unless someone inside removed what I put in place,” Tessman answered.
“So we go in the front,” Wilson said.
“There was that ground-level office window halfway down the north side of the building,” Burke reminded him.
Wilson nodded. “We breach from there and the front door simultaneously.”
“Someone’s buttoned the building up,” Burke said. “The garage door was open when we left. My guess would be the three men who were trying to break into the back and the two occupants of the blue cargo van.”
“The question is, are they still inside,” Rogers posed. “They could even have moved the rifles by now.”
“Only one way to find out,” Wilson said, opening his car door. The five men donned their bulletproof vests, attaching no agency designations to them. He dialed Ops on his phone. “Yes, we’re getting ready to go in.”
“Stay on comms,” Jackson said.
Dupont’s voice came through their comms. “I’m on and will stay on until you tell me to drop off,” he said.
The five men got out of the vehicle. They walked around the building and through the backyard areas, making it to the target warehouse without seeing anyone. Jackson, Rogers, and Wilson proceeded to the south side of the building. Burke and Tessman veered to the north side.
Peering through the window, they saw that the door was still closed, and no one was within the office, as before. Burke removed the glass-cutting tool from his pocket. At the lock on the window, he cut a half-circle in the glass, reached in, and unlocked the window. He lifted the window. It easily slid up.
“Entering now,” Burke transmitted.
The two men hoisted themselves up and into the building, drawing their weapons as soon as their feet hit the floor. Burke went to the door and listened. He heard nothing.
At the front of the building, the three men crossed in front of the garage door to the door that led into the front office. The lights were off within. They didn’t know if Stacy Ramsey had turned them off when she went to get her purse or if someone else had. Wilson tried the door. It was locked. Again, they didn’t know if she’d locked up, though they doubted it.
“Door’s locked,” Wilson broadcast. “Unlocking it and entering. Hold position.”
“Roger that,” Burke acknowledged in a whisper.
The two men waited, listening at the door for any sounds of movement or anything that would indicate someone was within. They heard nothing while they waited.
“Computer’s here. We’ll get the files after we clear the warehouse,” Wilson transmitted. He was now at the door that led into the warehouse area. “Move in,” he ordered.
Burke cracked the door open and peered through the four-inch crack. The interior of the warehouse was mostly dark. Someone had turned all the lights off. There were a few dim lights coming from somewhere. They didn’t really illuminate the room; they just caused long shadows throughout the space. It didn’t take long for their eyes to adjust to the lack of light.
