Chapter 4

It took almost five hours to get everything he needed in place, partially because of travel time for Lopez, but also because he needed at least sixteen agents from the local office and five identical cars.

“I’m still not sure this is necessary,” Robert Dayoub, the local SAC who ran the New Jersey office, said as they rode the elevator down to the basement.

“I’m not saying your office has a leak, but we both know that shooter should have never gotten to Bartolini and I’m not taking any chances.”

“I get that and I’m not talking about the switch up. I mean not telling us where you’re going and putting him with someone from outside the agency. Hill is already climbing all over my ass because he couldn’t get a straight answer from you, and he wants me to find out where you’re taking Finney, in case we need to talk to him.”

“If you need him, I’ll make him available, but I was assigned to this by the Director of the FBI who got the go-ahead from the deputy AG. Since this office botched Bartolini, they’ve given me free rein on how to deal with Finney. If Hill doesn’t like it, he can call his boss.”

Taylor knew he was playing a little fast and loose with his instructions. Solomon had asked him to come down and keep Finney safe until trial, but he hadn’t said anything about giving Taylor ‘free rein’ and it was a safe bet if someone asked Solomon, he’d have been just as much against Taylor’s move as Hill was. For once though, the FBI’s culture of not wanting to be seen rocking the boat or upsetting their superiors was going to work for him. It was doubtful Hill would complain to the AG after they’d almost certainly torn into him about losing one witness.

Besides, once Finney was off the grid, it wouldn’t much matter what Hill wanted.

Getting out of the elevator into the cleared underground garage, Taylor was glad to see all five SUVs were there and were identical as promised with the normal heavy tint most FBI vehicles sported. Next to four of the cars stood four agents, all roughly dressed alike in the standard suit and tie that marked them as a cop or federal agent to anyone that glanced at them. Unlike those men, and they’d all had to be men for Taylor’s plan to work, Lopez looked like a kid in his dad’s suit standing next to the fifth SUV. Like a lot of guys not long out of the service, he was more comfortable in PTs or his BDUs than a monkey suit. Taylor felt his pain, having changed into something similar before coming to meet with the guys he’d requested from the field office.

“So can you tell me what’s going on now?” Lopez asked when Taylor reached the SUV he was standing next to.

“Not yet,” Taylor said, not elaborating.

Lopez was used to this kind of answer and just nodded as Taylor continued walking up and down the vehicles, making sure the men and equipment matched what he’d requested.

Satisfied, Taylor gave the nod to Dayoub, who pulled a radio off his belt and said several words into it. A handful of minutes passed with all of the agents glancing back and forth at each other before the elevator dinged again, opening to reveal Robles and Finney.

Robles didn’t wait for any further signals and led Finney into the SUV Lopez was standing next to, putting him in the back seat and then sliding in to sit next to him.

“You men have all received your instructions. You are to head towards your specified destination taking the route you were given. We’ve checked and all of the routes are open. You aren’t to deviate from your route, no matter what. I don’t care if you have to plow through the scene of an accident, I don’t want you to stop. Once you get to your destination, you are to remain in the car until notified, and then you can head back to whatever we pulled you away from. Is that clear?”

Although he didn’t plan on telling anyone what he was actually doing, he’d asked for people that Dayoub trusted to at least follow the instructions. They all nodded their understanding and filed into their cars, while Taylor got into the driver’s seat of the vehicle Finney had been loaded into with Lopez and Robles.

“Three-card Monte!” Robles said when he shut the door behind him. “This is your plan?”

“You can’t beat the classics. It’s the best I could come up with if someone is watching the building, waiting for Finney to leave. The agents were picked at random, weren’t told what they were doing until they got to the garage, and I picked this vehicle out of the motor pool. It’s as good as I could do to make sure whoever fed the Amato’s Bartolini’s location couldn’t track us.”

“And where is that, exactly?” Robles asked as they pulled out of the garage between the third and fourth car in the column of SUVs.

“Joint Base McGuire.”

“Fort Dix?” Lopez said from the back seat, sounding surprised.

Taylor understood his apprehension. Lopez had been dishonorably discharged from the army over something that wasn’t his fault, so it was only natural he wouldn’t be crazy about going back to an army base.

“It’ll be okay. I’ve worked it out. You aren’t even signing in at the gate. They’re going to whisk us through and put you and Finney up in an isolated barracks. Once there, neither of you is to leave the building for any reason. Food will be delivered to you and there will be a guard on the door, but aside from my guy, no one will know who’s inside. All you have to do is make sure he stays in the building and safe.”

“What am I supposed to do in an army barracks?” Finney asked, annoyed and angry.

“I could give a shit,” Taylor said. “Maybe this will teach you why you shouldn’t get in bed with those people. You get bored, just remember what happened to your buddy Bartolini.”

“He wasn’t my buddy,” Finney said, although with a lot less fire.

“You two worked for the same crooks. And don’t go telling me you didn’t know what was going on, because if you didn’t you wouldn’t have testimony to give. You knew who you were dealing with and only came forward when it was obvious they were going to have you killed. So shut up.”

Finney looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing he was outnumbered by three men who didn’t particularly like him, he did the smart thing and looked out the window instead.

Chenier was waiting for them at the gate as promised, having Taylor follow an MP jeep he had standing by, which led them to a small officers’ barracks a little separated from the rest. It was a pretty good spot and had almost certainly been occupied before Taylor called Chenier, but that was the life of a soldier and Taylor didn’t feel bad.

“I don’t know how long I can keep him here and a guard on the door,” Chenier said after Lopez and Finney had been hustled inside.

“Like I said, all I need is a week or so. By then, either I’ll have found the shooter, or the shooter will have gotten to Finney.”

“Not on an army base he won’t,” Chenier said.

“Hopefully. It’s why I wanted to stash him here. But this guy is good, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Well then find him quickly, so you can get these two out of here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Taylor said, giving the CID officer a nod as he stepped away, back towards the MP jeep.

“So what’s next?” Robles asked when they were on the way back to New Jersey.

“We go see the Amato brothers.”

“Seriously? Don’t you think they’ve been interviewed already? These guys never talk.”

“I’m not trying to get them to talk. I just want to stir the pot a little and see what comes out.”

“Is this how you and Whitaker normally handle investigations? Stirring the pot and seeing what happens?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Taylor said, walking back to the car, leaving Robles to follow in his wake.

The Amato brothers shared a small mansion in West Windsor, an upscale suburb to the north of Trenton. Although an upscale area of the state, their mansion was notable both for how large it was compared to the pricey but not huge homes nearby and the very large wall that separated it from the rest of the community.

The person who answered the speaker at the entrance to the gated driveway didn’t sound particularly surprised or impressed when Taylor introduced himself as an FBI agent, but let him in anyway when he asked to see the brothers. Even before the pace of investigation into them increased, the brothers would have been regularly visited by both federal agents and local officers, so this was just routine for them.

The driveway led to a large circular area in front of the house with a gaudy fountain in the center. Taylor had heard of people with more money than taste, but this place took the prize for how over the top it was. The neighbors were probably happy about the giant wall, since it hid the rest of the eyesore.