Designated Target - Cover

Designated Target

Copyright© 2022 by Lumpy

Chapter 13

“What a clusterf•©k,” Dayoub said, as agents and local cops began shutting down the street.

The running gunfight meant the crime scene stretched across two blocks, through a restaurant and a clothing store, and the alley between them. That didn’t count the empty office Chelsea had used as her shooting perch or the conference room where the shot landed.

Every available agent in Trenton and dozens of Trenton PD cops were swarming everywhere, taking witness statements and reports for non-serious injuries and property damage, and keeping crowds back and the scenes as intact as possible for the techs, who were already arriving to collect evidence.

“It was a long shot. There was no way to cover every potential spot she might shoot from. We had good coverage and even a man by the door, but she’s survived this long for a reason. How’s he doing?”

“I think he’ll live. We had medics staged in the underground garage, so there was assistance pretty close by. He was awake and talking when they put him in the ambulance.”

“Good. He did a good job and even got the jump on her, but she was damn fast. He never stood a chance, not really.”

“Hopefully we’ll get something usable off this. A print or something, because Finney’s real court appearance is next week, and he’ll have to be there in person. The judge shot down Hill’s petition for remote testimony yesterday.”

“Have you talked to Hill? I haven’t talked to him since the shooting?”

“He’s shaken, but okay. I don’t think he’s thrilled with you putting him in a room that was going to be shot up, but he’ll live.”

“I told him what I was planning.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t believe you. None of us thought this was going to work. Honestly, I’m shocked she went for it.”

“She’s cocky and sure of herself, or she’d never have called me like she did. She didn’t slack off too much though. I don’t think we’re going to get much in the way of prints. She was definitely wearing gloves. I’m pretty sure I clipped her going out the window, so we might get DNA, but there’s a much better chance her prints are on file somewhere than her DNA is.”

“We have her gun,” he said.

“Have the techs take it apart, but I’m not holding my breath that we’ll get any prints. This whole part of police work isn’t really my thing. I’m going to go back to the offices and make some calls. I’m sure Solomon has already heard your report and is going to want to rip me a new one over this.”

“I haven’t made a report yet. There’s too much to cover here, but yeah, he’s probably heard about it,” Dayoub said, pointing at a news truck down the block.

There were several set up on the block he and Taylor were standing on, and probably more on the other side by the clothing store. There was no way to keep this under wraps and that kind of chase was going to be too juicy for them to ignore. Taylor was just happy it was so short that there wasn’t time for news copters or anything getting video of it. There might be someone with a cell camera, although the chase had been on this street for seconds at best and then through the Chinese place and on to the other block. The whole thing had lasted less than five minutes from the time she hit the street to when she stole the bike and took off.

“Try to keep my name out of it when you start answering questions.”

“You know you’re recognizable by the general public these days, right? Enough people saw you that it’s almost certainly gotten back to Solomon by now.”

“Shit. Fine. Let me know how things go down here.”

“Sure,” Dayoub said, and headed back to the federal building.

Taylor made his way back up the street, waving off a couple of reporters hanging out near the police tape, dodging under their camera, and past security where he didn’t have to worry about being followed. Once up in a small cubicle they’d set aside for him to use, Taylor called Solomon.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Solomon asked as soon as Taylor called, quoting his own words back at him.

“Fine, it got out of hand. She set up in a damn good spot and we were spread too thin covering a multi-block swath. I almost got her.”

“Which is another way of saying she got away.”

“Yes.”

“And in return, we’ve got an agent down, a dead motorist, three injured bystanders and you’re in the center of it.”

“It was worth a shot. This woman has a body count that would make some serial killers blush.”

“I know, which is why I approved it, but you usually get your man, or woman. You cause havoc and leave a wreck behind you, but you get them. If I had a killer for hire to show for it, I would at least have had something positive to say when the Attorney General called wanting to know what the f•©k we were up to.”

“He saw a news report already?” Taylor asked.

He knew this would go higher, but he hoped he’d have a little time to wrap up the case, or at least get something more to show on it, before the politicians started calling.

“No, but Hill called his boss, who called the AG about the madman I sent over who almost got one of their up-and-coming AUSAs shot down.”

“He was never in any danger,” Taylor said.

“That’s not how he told it. The way I heard it, their people crawled out of the rubble that remained of the obliterated conference room.”

“Come on. She fired once. Into a dummy.”

“Okay, but the dead civilian isn’t going to be as easy to explain.”

“Collateral damage. I know that’s not a popular word these days, and I did everything I could to keep her from hurting anyone, but the other option would be to just let her go and not chase her. We could just let her go on murdering people for money. I’m sure the public wouldn’t care about that.”

“This job is more than just chasing the bad guys. Agents have to think about more than just catching the bad guys.”

“I never wanted to be an agent. You guys asked me to come help you with the tough cases. Hell, before I stepped in, no one had a clue this woman was even out there, even though she’s smoked at least a half dozen federal witnesses over twenty years that I’ve found, not to mention well over a hundred criminals who hadn’t turned state’s evidence. If you want me to come back to D.C. and put me on the bench, I’d be more than happy to spend the last month before the baby comes with Whitaker instead of being out here getting shot at.”

“Don’t be a prima donna. It’s not your style. You know I’m not saying that. I knew what I was getting when I asked you to come work for us. I just wanted to point out we need to keep the bigger picture in mind.”

“Maybe remind the Attorney General that when they needed me to put a stop to murders that were threatening to derail budget talks, I did it. Hell, I stopped the sale of a major defense system without even being asked to. I think I’ve got enough in the plus column for them to get off my ass.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it, although I’ll probably use a little more tact.”

“You want tact, get a tactician.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Yeah, me either. I had a lieutenant who used to say that.”

“Did we get anything out of this?”

“I’ve seen her, and we know for a fact she’s real and the person that’s been calling me. Other than that, not yet. The techs just started going over everything.”

“Fine. Let me know if you find anything.”

“I’ll call once I catch her. Whitaker always handled the reports.”

“Yeah, I know. Fine. Catch her then.”

Taylor hung up and couldn’t help but fume. He didn’t really blame Solomon, since he knew the director was going to do his best to cover him, but politicians really chafed Taylor sometimes. They had the memory of a goldfish when it came to taking into account past deeds and were about as loyal as rattlesnakes. Caldwell was an exception, but every other politician he’d met over the last several years had reinforced that he didn’t really want to meet any others.

He was still fuming an hour later, as he tried to think of how he was going to get Chelsea if they got nothing from this operation, when Dayoub showed up at the edge of the cubicle. Taylor was happy for the distraction. This really had been his last shot, and working the problem over again and again, as he’d been trained to do, wasn’t helping him this time. Chelsea was in the wind.

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