slept in their seats, heads resting on folded arms on the table. One of them stirred, repositioned, and went back to sleep.
“Are you absolutely certain? 100 percent?” asked the foreman.
“Yes, sir. 100 percent. The description of the car and the license plate matches. The CHP and local traffic cameras show a man and a woman in the car. Both faces match the photos we have. They are both there, inside the building. We need to call right now.”
“Let me see what you have first,” said the foreman, as he shuffled around the table to look over his teammates’ shoulder. After a thorough examination of the evidence, he picked up his phone and punched the number. “Yes, boss, I have some news for you . . . Yes, it’s very important . . . Yes, sir, we have confirmed that the mother and the father are in the San Diego area . . . Yes, sir, the Scripps Clinic . . . No, it’s a different building, but we believe she is there, too . . . Yes, sir, we will monitor the situation and report any changes . . . Yes, they are still in the area . . .Yes, sir, I will, sir. Thank you.”
He ended the call and ordered the other conscious man in the room to call the two operatives in La Jolla.
* * * *
Scripps Cancer Research Center, La Jolla, California
June 14, 10:38 a.m. Pacific Time
Emily said her good-byes to Henry and Sarah in the darkened and sterile room, although Sarah slept peacefully through it, and made her way out the building to her shining white BMW. The sun overhead was doing its best to maintain Southern California’s image, bouncing its brilliant rays off the bright white paint and windshield, nearly blinding her as she drew near. She averted her eyes to the left to avoid the glare. That’s when she saw it. At first, nothing seemed unusual about a Sprinter van pulling into the parking lot, but as she watched it, she felt something peculiar. The two Asian men inside seemed to pay her close attention, as if they recognized her. Men often stared at her, but she felt greater discomfort than usual as the van moved closer.
As she chirped her car unlocked, Emily glanced around and noticed the van maneuver into a tight parking space next to what she later learned was Henry’s Cadillac. There were dozens of open spots nearby, but she shrugged it off and settled into the driver’s seat, parked a row behind and a dozen parking stalls to the left of the van. She couldn’t help but watch for a moment before she started the engine. She sent a quick text message to a co-worker giving instructions for the next step in the experiment he was working on.
Emily looked up and saw that the two Asian men remained in the van. Since there were no windows, it was unlikely that there were passenger seats inside. That meant they probably weren’t there to pick up a patient. The decals on the van’s side indicated that they were in the business of home entertainment, so it was equally as unlikely they were at the Scripps patient clinic to install the latest in theater quality surround sound equipment. She cocked her head, took a mental note, and fired up her 328i. She was in a hurry and had to get back to her lab, but the thought crossed her mind that she ought to call security.
The driver of the van watched her from behind dark sunglasses through his side mirror. Her unease grew, but was soon quelled by the realization that the FBI detail starting up the Ford Taurus behind her was on the job. It was time to get away from the creepers in the van and get back to work. Her phone rang as she backed out of the parking spot. Soon she was involved in a discussion about her current experiment’s control group at the lab and forgot all about calling security.
* * * *
After the white BMW and the gray Ford sped away and exited the parking lot, the tattooed driver
“Are you absolutely certain? 100 percent?” asked the foreman.
“Yes, sir. 100 percent. The description of the car and the license plate matches. The CHP and local traffic cameras show a man and a woman in the car. Both faces match the photos we have. They are both there, inside the building. We need to call right now.”
“Let me see what you have first,” said the foreman, as he shuffled around the table to look over his teammates’ shoulder. After a thorough examination of the evidence, he picked up his phone and punched the number. “Yes, boss, I have some news for you . . . Yes, it’s very important . . . Yes, sir, we have confirmed that the mother and the father are in the San Diego area . . . Yes, sir, the Scripps Clinic . . . No, it’s a different building, but we believe she is there, too . . . Yes, sir, we will monitor the situation and report any changes . . . Yes, they are still in the area . . .Yes, sir, I will, sir. Thank you.”
He ended the call and ordered the other conscious man in the room to call the two operatives in La Jolla.
* * * *
Scripps Cancer Research Center, La Jolla, California
June 14, 10:38 a.m. Pacific Time
Emily said her good-byes to Henry and Sarah in the darkened and sterile room, although Sarah slept peacefully through it, and made her way out the building to her shining white BMW. The sun overhead was doing its best to maintain Southern California’s image, bouncing its brilliant rays off the bright white paint and windshield, nearly blinding her as she drew near. She averted her eyes to the left to avoid the glare. That’s when she saw it. At first, nothing seemed unusual about a Sprinter van pulling into the parking lot, but as she watched it, she felt something peculiar. The two Asian men inside seemed to pay her close attention, as if they recognized her. Men often stared at her, but she felt greater discomfort than usual as the van moved closer.
As she chirped her car unlocked, Emily glanced around and noticed the van maneuver into a tight parking space next to what she later learned was Henry’s Cadillac. There were dozens of open spots nearby, but she shrugged it off and settled into the driver’s seat, parked a row behind and a dozen parking stalls to the left of the van. She couldn’t help but watch for a moment before she started the engine. She sent a quick text message to a co-worker giving instructions for the next step in the experiment he was working on.
Emily looked up and saw that the two Asian men remained in the van. Since there were no windows, it was unlikely that there were passenger seats inside. That meant they probably weren’t there to pick up a patient. The decals on the van’s side indicated that they were in the business of home entertainment, so it was equally as unlikely they were at the Scripps patient clinic to install the latest in theater quality surround sound equipment. She cocked her head, took a mental note, and fired up her 328i. She was in a hurry and had to get back to her lab, but the thought crossed her mind that she ought to call security.
The driver of the van watched her from behind dark sunglasses through his side mirror. Her unease grew, but was soon quelled by the realization that the FBI detail starting up the Ford Taurus behind her was on the job. It was time to get away from the creepers in the van and get back to work. Her phone rang as she backed out of the parking spot. Soon she was involved in a discussion about her current experiment’s control group at the lab and forgot all about calling security.
* * * *
After the white BMW and the gray Ford sped away and exited the parking lot, the tattooed driver
Similar Books
