Read Online Seven Unholy Days by Jerry Hatchett - Free Book Online
Authors: Jerry Hatchett
Ads: Link
mean to say—”
“Don’t worry about it. I did, but somebody bolted them shut.”
“No one will know from me,” he said with a wink.
The telephone networks, even cellular, were holding up pretty well under internal backup power, but everyone was trying to call someone, and the result was a snarled tangle of congestion. “All circuits are busy” was the mantra. It took Tark hours to reach and cancel the incoming crew he had worked so feverishly to line up the night before. Around nine, I volunteered to keep an eye on things while he went home for a shower and a quick nap. He accepted.
No one had seen or heard from Brett Fulton, which was just as well since he was useless for the deep tech mission Abdul and I were working.
“Where can I find James Tarkleton?” a voice behind me said.
“Mr. Tarkleton is away from the complex at the moment,” I said as I turned around. “I’m Matt Decker.”
The guy stopped in his tracks and stared. “I know who you are. Why are you here?”
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Special Agent Bob Rowe, FBI.” He flashed his credentials. I guessed him to be about six-four, three inches taller than me. I initiated the handshake. His was perfect, eye contact intense and unwavering—a little too intense, something else was buried there. His face and frame were lean but solid. He looked mid-forties and made an impression.
“Mr. Decker, I’m sure you can appreciate the gravity of the situation we find ourselves in. For security reasons the onsite privileges of all civilians, including government contractors, have been suspended. You’ll have to leave now.”
“Like hell I will. I was left in charge of this facility and I’ll remain so until relieved by Tarkleton.”
“It’s not optional, Decker. Let’s not make more of a scene than exists already.”
“Agent Rowe, is it? I assure you I have the authority to be here. In fact, my clearance probably trumps yours.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“I’m Restricted Data, about a notch and a half above Top Secret. What are you?”
“Leave this place, Mr. Decker. Now.”
“You’re wasting your breath. I’m glad the Bureau is here, and I’ll be happy to work with you, but if you want me out of here you better start figuring out how you plan to do it. And you better go get some help.”
He reached to grab me and instinct took over. Inside two s econds I had his arm twisted behind his back and was prepared to relieve him of his weapon should he be foolhardy enough to touch it.
“You know what the penalty is for assaulting a federal o fficer, Mr. Decker?”
“Worst case? A slap on the wrist and a fine I can pay and never miss, Rowe. This case? Nothing. I’m not just any contra ctor. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I’m the man the United States government wants on this problem right now and I suspect you’ll find that out soon enough.”
I let go of his arm and turned him around to face me in as non-threatening a manner as was possible under the circu mstances. I looked him in the eye and said, “There are a grand total of two people here to work on this problem right now, and I’ll ask you politely to step aside and let us go to work. If you have investigative questions you’d like to ask, you may ask them while we work. Is that a fair compromise?”
He didn’t blink or flinch, but in his eyes I saw that it had been a long time since anyone challenged Special Agent Bob Rowe.
Two more obvious agents walked in and were headed our way in a hurry. A stocky man with a trademark Bureau haircut and an anorexic-looking woman dressed in a navy blue power suit.
“Everything okay here, Bob?” Stocky said to Rowe while he glared at me. Stocky’s wardrobe gave me pause. He was the first Bureau man I’d seen wearing twenty-five hundred dollars worth of work clothes. I wanted to see his file for sure.
“Under control,” Rowe said. Then he turned back to me. “I’ll let you stay, Decker. For
“Don’t worry about it. I did, but somebody bolted them shut.”
“No one will know from me,” he said with a wink.
The telephone networks, even cellular, were holding up pretty well under internal backup power, but everyone was trying to call someone, and the result was a snarled tangle of congestion. “All circuits are busy” was the mantra. It took Tark hours to reach and cancel the incoming crew he had worked so feverishly to line up the night before. Around nine, I volunteered to keep an eye on things while he went home for a shower and a quick nap. He accepted.
No one had seen or heard from Brett Fulton, which was just as well since he was useless for the deep tech mission Abdul and I were working.
“Where can I find James Tarkleton?” a voice behind me said.
“Mr. Tarkleton is away from the complex at the moment,” I said as I turned around. “I’m Matt Decker.”
The guy stopped in his tracks and stared. “I know who you are. Why are you here?”
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Special Agent Bob Rowe, FBI.” He flashed his credentials. I guessed him to be about six-four, three inches taller than me. I initiated the handshake. His was perfect, eye contact intense and unwavering—a little too intense, something else was buried there. His face and frame were lean but solid. He looked mid-forties and made an impression.
“Mr. Decker, I’m sure you can appreciate the gravity of the situation we find ourselves in. For security reasons the onsite privileges of all civilians, including government contractors, have been suspended. You’ll have to leave now.”
“Like hell I will. I was left in charge of this facility and I’ll remain so until relieved by Tarkleton.”
“It’s not optional, Decker. Let’s not make more of a scene than exists already.”
“Agent Rowe, is it? I assure you I have the authority to be here. In fact, my clearance probably trumps yours.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“I’m Restricted Data, about a notch and a half above Top Secret. What are you?”
“Leave this place, Mr. Decker. Now.”
“You’re wasting your breath. I’m glad the Bureau is here, and I’ll be happy to work with you, but if you want me out of here you better start figuring out how you plan to do it. And you better go get some help.”
He reached to grab me and instinct took over. Inside two s econds I had his arm twisted behind his back and was prepared to relieve him of his weapon should he be foolhardy enough to touch it.
“You know what the penalty is for assaulting a federal o fficer, Mr. Decker?”
“Worst case? A slap on the wrist and a fine I can pay and never miss, Rowe. This case? Nothing. I’m not just any contra ctor. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I’m the man the United States government wants on this problem right now and I suspect you’ll find that out soon enough.”
I let go of his arm and turned him around to face me in as non-threatening a manner as was possible under the circu mstances. I looked him in the eye and said, “There are a grand total of two people here to work on this problem right now, and I’ll ask you politely to step aside and let us go to work. If you have investigative questions you’d like to ask, you may ask them while we work. Is that a fair compromise?”
He didn’t blink or flinch, but in his eyes I saw that it had been a long time since anyone challenged Special Agent Bob Rowe.
Two more obvious agents walked in and were headed our way in a hurry. A stocky man with a trademark Bureau haircut and an anorexic-looking woman dressed in a navy blue power suit.
“Everything okay here, Bob?” Stocky said to Rowe while he glared at me. Stocky’s wardrobe gave me pause. He was the first Bureau man I’d seen wearing twenty-five hundred dollars worth of work clothes. I wanted to see his file for sure.
“Under control,” Rowe said. Then he turned back to me. “I’ll let you stay, Decker. For
Similar Books
