DHS–Domestic Terrorism
Annex
Washington, DC
June 18, 2018
Cass walked into the office and asked, "How was the weekend...do you do anything other than work and work-out?"
"Yeah, I went back to Virginia Beach for a hail and farewell for one of my old teammates. Also met with a realtor about the house, but I just can't go through it now. Every time I'm there I'll hear a sound and look up hoping to see Jill walk into the room."
"I've seen nothing new in the weekend traffic that would give us a stronger case to get a search warrant. They always seem to be one step ahead of us."
"I think we'd both be shocked if we really knew the extent they've penetrated the government. Like my mother used to say, 'Money is the root of all evil' and from what I can see, she was right. I got a call from this DHS security guy located over in one of the Anacostia buildings, and he said he wants to talk about some other connection they've found. I expect to be back here before noon."
He called for a local cab, and it was waiting when he walked outside the building. He leaned into the open sidewalk window and asked, "Steele?"
"Yes, that's right."
The cab pulled away from the curb and headed across town. Dan looked at his phone, and the screen suddenly looked out of focus. He saw the Plexiglas partition separating him from the driver was completely sealed and that a small vent in the roof liner was spewing a cloud of vapor into the passenger compartment. He reached for the window button and it was locked. His hand moved to the door handle when he blacked out. It didn't matter because it was locked too.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself seated in a small, windowless room with poured concrete walls and a heavy reinforced metal door with a viewing port. A small surveillance camera was mounted in the corner of the room. He tried to lift his arms but they were strapped to a heavy metal chair bolted securely to the floor. Still clothed in his suit pants and a dress shirt, his jacket and shoes had been removed.
"Well, well," boomed a voice echoing from a speaker in the wall, "I apologize for the informal welcome but hope you are comfortable in our guest room. We have called for a doctor to examine you. You will tell us about Stormy Weather and other things of interest. This is a new doctor. I'm afraid our long time doctor of persuasion took another position after he failed to get much information out of your former colleague, a Ms. Andrews I believe."
Dan clenched his arms and wanted to test the strength of the wide leather straps holding each of his arms and legs but realized that this game of provocation would be much more difficult if he revealed his pent up rage about Meg's death.
"I'm not sure I know a Ms. Andrews but I doubt I have any worthwhile information to share. You've got plenty of contacts inside the government. I'm just a small fish in a large tank."
"We shall find out just how small you are and also how tough a former Seal really is. Welcome, and I'll look forward to meeting you soon."
The speaker clicked off. Dan started to assess his situation. Orient, he commanded himself.