Designated Target - Chapter 3

Taylor hated dealing with DA’s and US Attorneys. If being lawyers wasn’t bad enough, these guys were also politicians, more worried about how they’d look in the papers than actually putting criminals behind bars.

As usual, even though everyone was using every chance they got to point out how important this case was, the guy left Taylor and Robles cooling their heels in reception for a good thirty minutes. They always apologized and blamed their busy schedule, but everyone knew it was just mindless head games these guys played with each other.

Finally, the office door opened and three guys in suits came filing out. It was obvious which one was the guy Taylor was there to see just by how the other two all but genuflected as they said their goodbyes. From their well-tailored suits, Taylor had to assume they were money guys, which meant they were probably discussing fundraising, which was the real thing politicians did for a living.

“Mr. Taylor,” he said as the guys finally left, reaching and grabbing Taylor’s hand to shake it. “Sorry to keep you waiting. You know how it goes around here. Always busy, busy. I’m US Attorney Darren Hill.”

“Sure,” Taylor said, not bothering to sound convinced by the explanation or impressed by the credentials. “This is special agent Robles. We just wanted to clear up a few things before we went to get custody of Finney.”

“Sure. Come on back,” he said, standing aside and gesturing towards his office. “I spoke with Joe Solomon a few hours ago, and I tried to assure him that we had the situation under control, but I guess you’d already missed him. I appreciate you coming all the way out here, but I’m not sure this is the kind of assignment for a man of your talents.”

He walked around them to sit behind the large desk with its nameplate announcing his position as a US attorney with the justice department, like anyone who’d gotten this far might be confused about who they were meeting.

“How so?” Taylor asked.

This wasn’t the first person who had problems with Taylor, his methods, or his seemingly permanent position outside the standard chains of command, but he liked for them to spell it out. Partly because these guys were rarely called on their bullshit, so they had to dance a little bit to actually find a way to say they thought he was an uncontrollable outsider who had no place protecting anyone and partly because they often managed to tie their own rope in the process.

To the guy’s credit, he didn’t stumble like some of his type did.

“I am, of course, familiar with some of your exploits. How could I not be after your heroic capture of Waleed Qasim or your rescue of President Caldwell on election night? You’ve caught some pretty big names and you’re clearly very good at it, but protecting a witness is a very different thing from chasing down criminals. While those were all very impressive feats, it’s also pretty well known the mayhem that has happened along the way. Now I’m sure it was all perfectly justified to get the job done, but Finney is our last link to the Amato family, and if he’s caught in the crossfire, these guys go free, and I will not stand for that. I’d suggest that, perhaps, there are other assignments better suited to your skills than this.”

‘There it is,’ Taylor thought to himself. He was being all kinds of respectful about it, but it never took these guys long to explain why they’d be happier if Taylor was anywhere but involved with their case.

“I think maybe …” Robles started to say until Taylor lifted his hand slightly in a ‘hold up’ signal, low enough that Robles could see it but Hill couldn’t.

“I get it, and I couldn’t agree more. I’m good at tracking people and I’m a terrible babysitter, but …”

Hill, hearing what he wanted to and not where Taylor was going with that sentence, slapped his hands lightly on the desk, interrupting Taylor, and said, “Excellent. If we can …”

Taylor kept going, raising his voice slightly in the way any sergeant in the US army learned to do on the first word, forcing Hill to shut up.

“But, this was cleared through Joe Solomon and the deputy AG, which means neither of us really gets a say in how this goes, does it?”

Hill’s mouth tightened in clear agitation, but he simply steepled his fingers and said, “I guess it does. So what do you need from me?”

“I want to know more about the case.”

“I assume you’ve read the files?” Hill said, all pretense of friendliness gone.

“I have, but it doesn’t tell the whole story. I’m trying to figure out how the Amato family got to Bartolini. Him being your primary witness and all, I was surprised with how easily they were able to get to him.”

When Taylor first started working with the Bureau, he seemed to make a habit out of antagonizing politicians and officials or hiding his real feelings about them. Over the years, Whitaker had convinced him there were easier ways of dealing with people like Hill, so he wasn’t just goading the man to prove a point. He’d dealt with enough of these guys that as soon as they found out they couldn’t bully Taylor into following their lead, they’d go out of their way to be useless.

Taylor had found that, if he wanted to get something useful out of them, the best thing he could do was make them angry. At least then, they’d be trying to prove a point. Sometimes it backfired and they’d try to stymie his investigation, but sometimes it got them going in the same direction, even if they hated him afterward.

“He was far from our only witness, which I think you are well aware of. We discussed the idea of a larger task force to protect Bartolini, but anything we would have been able to put together would have been insufficient. The Amatos are bad and it’s my job to see they’re shut down in New Jersey, but they are far from the worst group in New England, let alone the rest of the country. That means we only have so much access to resources to prosecute this case, and that doesn’t mean a huge task force to protect one witness. I’ll also remind you that it was the FBI that suggested a smaller team, relying on anonymity rather than numbers to keep Bartolini safe. I relied on your people to make sure Bartolini made it to trial. So maybe take a step back and realize why I might be hesitant to listen to you guys again.”

“You still have the same problem. You have one more witness and everyone, including the Amatos, knows about him, right?” Taylor asked. “If you had your choice, how would you plan on keeping him safe.”

“I don’t know, since it’s not really my choice. My job is to prosecute the cases you guys build. It’s up to you to keep him safe. If you have a way of doing that, I’m all ears.”

“It looks like we’re on the same page,” Robles said, stepping in to play peacemaker as Hill and Taylor stared each other down across the oversized desk. “Now that we all agree that we’re on the hook for keeping Finney safe and we all want to see him make it to trial, instead of blaming each other for Bartolini, let’s figure out how to do our jobs.”

“So what about the case did you need to know.”

“I’m trying to figure out how they got to Bartolini, so we don’t make the same mistake. We looked over the setup at the motel, and it was pretty good, but nothing is one-hundred percent. This whole plan relied on no one knowing where Bartolini was.”

“You’re wondering where the leak is?”

“Yes,” Taylor said.

Hill took in a deep breath, letting out a long sigh and for a second Taylor thought he might explode again.

Instead, he said, “I’ve been trying to figure that out too. I think it’s obvious to all of us that somehow the location of the motel was leaked. I’ve read the follow-up investigation and no one was seen snooping around or talking to desk clerks to find out what room they were in. They knew exactly what room to hit, which means yeah, we have a leak.”

“But you don’t know where?” Robles asked.

“No. I’m telling you, we have torn through everyone who had even the smallest amount of access to this case, and they all come back clean. Everyone comes back squeaky clean, which means we’re missing something.”

“Worse, it means you’re not going to find the leak,” Taylor said.

Hill just nodded. Taylor could see how frustrated he was, and sympathized with him, to a degree. This kind of thing could make them feel helpless, especially since it was possible there wasn’t a leak at all, and the shooter managed to track them down another way. Taylor could understand them not wanting to confront that scenario, since it gave them no one to put the blame on, but it also meant they weren’t taking precautions to stop indirect ways of tracking a person.

“Is there somewhere I can make some calls?”

Taylor left Robles with Hill and went into the small office next door, where Hill indicated there was a phone.

“Chenier,” a monotone, no-nonsense voice said when the man on the other end of the line picked up.

Jim Chenier was a captain in the Army assigned to the criminal investigation division. Taylor had worked with him to uncover a serial killer operating out of a small base in west Texas almost a year ago. The two weren’t friendly, but Chenier had come across as a stand-up guy and it would take quite the leap for someone to connect him to Taylor.

“Chenier, it’s John Taylor.”

“Really?” was Chenier’s response.

“Yeah, I know this is a surprise.”

“No kidding.”

“I need a favor.”

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. They hadn’t necessarily been on the best of terms the last time they worked together, but Taylor had hoped they’d at least be on somewhat friendly terms.

“I don’t recall owing you any favors.”

“You don’t. I’ll owe you one, after this.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “What kind of favor do you need?”

“A pretty big one. I have a guy that I need off the grid, somewhere no one can find him, along with a babysitter.”

“What kind of guy?”

“A very bad one. A witness in a mob trial that has inside knowledge of the family’s financial dealings who’s set to testify against them.”

“That sounds a lot like saying a criminal.”

“Yep, but one who can put a lot of other criminals behind bars.”

“And did you have somewhere specific in mind for where you wanted me to house your criminal?”

“Fort Dix.”

Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst was a combination of what used to be Lakehurst Naval Station, Fort Dix and McGuire Air Force Base, combined into one installation in 2009 to create the only tri-service base in the US military. It was also the closest base to Trenton and a secure facility with multiple rings of security across its forty-two thousand square acres, which is why Taylor was interested in it.

“You’re joking?”

“I’m not. I know it’s a tall order and will require all kinds of strings being pulled, but this is important. There used to be two witnesses, and we have no idea how they got to the first witness. I need this guy way off-grid, somewhere where no one can get to him. This is as close as I can get. No shooter, no matter how ballsy, is going to try to walk onto an army base and hit a target.”

“You realize I’m going to have to clear this, right?”

“I know. I’ll make some calls and get the okay, but I wanted to talk to you first, because I want your help to make sure no one gets to my two guys.”

“Who’s the other guy?”

“A guy named Lopez. Ex-marine who’s now working personal security.”

“That’s at least something.”

“He got out on a bad conduct discharge.”

“You’re killing me, Taylor.”

“I know, but I know what got him booted, and it wasn’t his fault. He’s a stand-up guy.”

“You’re going to vouch for them and get this cleared so I don’t end up rotting away on gate duty somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. Can you get to Dix tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m in DC now. If something’s heading that way, I can be there in an hour, otherwise it’ll be more like four.”

“Either way works. Once they’re on base, I don’t need, or even want, either of them moving out of wherever you put them. They don’t have to be that comfortable, but don’t stick them in the stockade or with anyone else. Once they’re tucked in, I don’t want anyone who doesn’t report to you to even look at them.”

“You’re guy can’t be armed.”

“Come on …”

“No way. I know you’ve got pull and you’ll be able to get this approved, but you’re not having a civilian bring a weapon onto one of my bases. My guys will be there if he needs them.”

“Just make sure they don’t have to call and get approval if my guy needs something. I also need a secure line in to him.”

“Fine, I’ll get it taken care of, but make sure I’m covered on this.”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll call you when we get close so you or one of your guys can meet us at the gate. I don’t want this witness's name on any piece of paper if at all possible.”

“That’s going to cause a shit storm. You know that, right?”

“I do, but I’ll get it cleared with your bosses. And thanks, I’ll owe you one.”

“You bet your ass you will!” he said, hanging up.

Taylor then went through the process of making several calls. Although he still had his friendship with President Caldwell, he tried to actively avoid ever leaning on that. Partly because it just wasn’t who he was, but also because those kinds of favors tended to blow back on the politician who handed them out. Thankfully, he’d made enough contacts and gotten on the good side of enough higher-ups at the DoD during his investigation in Texas that he had people he could call.

He was also helped by the fact that what he was asking for was unorthodox, but not completely unheard of. The government had done it in a handful of cases in the seventies and eighties when there had been a rash of individuals under witness protection ending up dead. He couldn’t remember the details because he hadn’t been paying that much attention when Whitaker had described it in one of her many lectures on the history of law enforcement, but it meant he could do it and not ruffle too many feathers.

In the end, he’d gotten approval to stick Finney on base and have the MPs whisk him past the gate without going on any logbook, but he’d had to invoke Caldwell’s name several times. Not in a lie, but in a ‘we can call your boss and find out what she’ll say’ kind of way. He felt a little guilty name dropping her like that, even if he was pretty sure she’d understand, but it had worked, and that’s what mattered.

Of course, even though he could get Finney on base didn’t mean he could do it without the shooter finding out. While it was a lot less likely someone would try something surrounded by that many soldiers, it wasn’t completely impossible either. Which meant getting Finney out of the government building he was currently cooling his heels in, into a car, and off to Fort Dix without anyone noticing. If anything, that was going to be harder than getting approval from the army to put a non-identified witness on one of their bases.

Taylors first call was the easiest.

“What’s up?” Lopez said when he answered the phone.

“You ready to get your first go at the new career?”

“What?” Lopez asked.

“We talked about you picking up work as an independent contractor doing personal protection and that kind of thing. Well, I found you your first client.”

“Really? Who?”

“Me. Well, the federal government. I’ve still gotta work out the details on how you’ll be paid and everything, but we have to move now if we’re going to make this work. I have a guy I need to protect and a safe place to put him, but I need someone to babysit him while I deal with the people trying to get to him.”

“Hey, you tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. I know you’ll get the rest of it worked out.”

“I need you on a plane to New Jersey. Expect to stay here for a week, maybe two. I’ll have tickets arranged by the time you get to the airport and I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up at the airport.”

“I’m packing now. I gotta say, you move fast.”

“I was just in the right place. I’ll see you tonight.”

Hanging up, his next call was to Whitaker. Since Lopez wasn’t a government employee, he wasn’t sure how to go about getting the Bureau to actually pay for a ticket, but he figured she would.

“Let me get this straight,” she said after he filled her in on his plan. “You want me to arrange for a plane ticket to New Jersey for him and then work out how he can get paid as a contractor from the Bureau and have them reimburse us for the tickets? Do you have any idea how many people have to sign off on something like that?”

“Nope, but I was pretty sure you would.”

“I’m not even sure I can get anyone to agree to this, let alone pay for it.”

“Call Joe and explain to him that this is what I need if he wants me to keep Finney alive until trial … and find the shooter. We still have no idea where the leak is, so I need someone completely outside the Bureau to deal with it, and Lopez has the skills to do it and he’s hungry for his shot. Use my old company and have him set up as an employee under it. They might not be able to hire on an individual for something like this, but they sure as hell hired me through my LLC enough times, so I know that’s possible. Besides, Lopez is trying to find something new and we’re getting late in Joe’s tenure as director. There’s no telling if the next guy will want someone like me around, so I need to start getting something set up as a fallback. Everybody wins.”

“Except for me, who you expect to arrange all this.”

“Come on, Whitaker. You know how the place works inside and out, and you know enough about me and what’s going on out here to know this isn’t some half-brained scheme. It’ll work. I just don’t have time to deal with figuring out how to set it up.”

“Fine, I’ll make some calls. You know you’d never get anything done without me.”

“I’ve never said otherwise, princess.”