ASHLEY COMPLETED HER SHIFT at midnight and then stretched out on the queen-size bed at the other end of the trailer. Fully clothed, she fell asleep in seconds. A little before five o'clock, she woke to the smell of fried bacon. After splashing cold water on her face, she checked out the kitchen. Jerry was feasting on scrambled eggs, toast, bacon and coffee. "I made some extra. Help yourself."
She dished the food and poured a cup of coffee. "Any action over there?" She pointed her eyes towards the giant motor home. With a mouthful of toast Jerry shook his head no. "You look beat," she said. "Why don't you turn-in? I’ll take over."
"Good idea." When finished, he picked up his dishes, dumped them in the sink and headed for the bedroom, closing the folding door behind him. "Thanks," he muttered.
Still dark, Ashley checked the monitors, selected a book entitled, The Practices of Islam and began reading. By 6:00 a.m. the sun gradually brightened. She sensed movement on the first monitor. A tall, dark man stepped out of the motor home. As the sun rose, it caused the awning to cast a shadow across the picnic table where the man stood. She adjusted the telephoto feature of the surveillance camera to see him better. Ashley saw his form, but not much detail. She turned on the video recorder.
After a minute, he unrolled a small rug and laid it on the ground, then bowed facing east. He's performing his Morning Prayer ritual–the Five Pillars of Islam. For fifteen minutes the man knelt, bowed, placed his head on the ground and sat in meditation. Then he stood, rolled the rug, and stretched his arms over his head. The sunlight, brighter now, showed a well formed man, lean and muscular. With a clean shaven face, surrounded by black hair, he moved in a deliberate manner as he reentered his motor home.
Absorbed capturing this action on video, Ashley didn't notice her heart thumping or her rapid breathing until seconds later. So that's what the son-of-a- bitch, looks like. A killer who could pass for a male model. Odd, you’d think they would select someone who didn’t standout physically.
At eight o'clock Jerry stumbled out of the bedroom, his hair a mess. Ashley showed him the recording. He played it back several times. His only comment, "Scary bastard." Ashley agreed.
The man emerged from his elegant camper at noon. He wore shorts and a T-shirt, common clothes for summer. The subject unlocked his SUV and climbed in.
Jerry picked up the radio microphone. "Unit 1 and Unit 2, the subject is on the move. He's in a brown Lincoln MKX. License number VAK-8909. Copy?" He got an immediate response.
"Unit 2, copy." Then a moment later, "Unit 1, copy. Got him." Both agents assigned to tail the Lincoln waited until the subject moved out of sight. Each tracking screen showed a moving map of street patterns. The satellite device Jerry attached last night blinked rhythmically on their tracking screens. Jerry got the same signal on his monitor.
Ashley watched the slow speed pursuit play out. The subject drove north on highway 285, then turned west zigzagging through the west side of town. At the intersection of Hobbs Street and Union, he turned north onto Union and continued for several blocks.
"Unit 1, reporting. He's turning into a small strip shopping center."
Jerry directed their movement and noted the time. "Unit 1, pass him by. Unit 2, turn in and park away from the subject." He watched his monitor as the flashing dots emitted by his pursuit vehicles complied with his orders. "Keep an eye on him Fred, but don't get out of the car. What can you see?"
Fred, in Unit 2 answered. "This is an old complex. Four shops side by side in one building. He's getting out of his car. He's approaching the door of the second shop on the south end between a vacuum cleaner repair shop and an ice cream parlor. The sign over the door says..." Fred paused. "I can't see it. He's unlocked the door and entered the building."
Jerry thought a moment. "Stay put, Fred. You can read the sign when you leave." He checked the location of Unit 1. Joe had parked one block north on a side street ready to move either north or south on Union. They waited. Fifteen minutes later the subject exited the building and drove out of the parking lot onto Union and turned north. Unit 1 picked him up when he passed by.
"What's the sign over the door say, Fred?"
"Smith Trading. Imports and Export. Can't see inside.”
"Good man. Standby."
The subject traveled north, turned east onto Second Street and made a left turn onto Main Street. He didn't stop until he approached Roswell's main shopping center on the north side of town. He turned into the center and drove around back.
"Unit 1. What's he doing, Joe?"
"He's parking. There's big building back here. It's a movie complex. He's getting out of the car. I think he's going to the movies."
"Okay. Joe, park, then buy a ticket and follow him inside. See what feature he’s attending. Make sure he goes into a theater.” Jerry beamed at Ashley. "This is great. If he goes to a movie we know where he is and how long he'll be in one place. Perfect. Damn perfect."
Five minutes later Joe came online. "He went into theater 3. Crime Hunter is playing. Running time two hours and three minutes."
"Okay, gentlemen. Stay on target. Remember there is more than one way to exit a theater. Let me know when he’s on the move again." Jerry checked his watch: 1:05 p.m.
"Are you going over?" Ashley asked.
"You bet." He grabbed his tool kit and started for the door. "I have never jimmied a motor home door lock. I hope it's not some offbeat mechanism."
"Why not use a key?"
He stopped at the door. "Because I don't have one."
Ashley slapped down a key on the kitchen counter. "Now you do."
"Where’d you get that?"
"I called the manufacturer and asked for two keys. Gave them the VIN number I got from the DMV. When you're the FBI you can do stuff like that." Her lips curved up. "I'm coming with you."
Jerry slipped the key into his pocket. "No, I need you to stay here. Joe or Fred might call in. You understand?" He arched an eyebrow at her.
"Sure. I'll mind the store. Have fun."
Trying to look like a camper on a casual walk, Jerry approached the metallic colored motor home, and then quickly stepped to the door and unlocked it. Ashley watched. She imagined him searching for the best place to hide each of the listening devices: three, she figured–one at each end and the third in the middle. The time: 1:15.
Twenty minutes passed, and no Jerry. Where is he, she wondered. The bugs are state of the art, and easy to hide. He called them chameleons because when placed they assumed the color of any surface.
At a quarter to two, she prepared to march across the road, when the door to the motor home opened. Jerry stepped out and hurried across to their trailer. "Hey, is the Bug Man losing his touch?" Ashley asked as he entered, "Any problem?"
No answer.
Ashley watched him as he turned away from her, and stored his gear. He moved to the bathroom and shut the door. She waited. Finally he came out. He wore a grim expression. Avoiding her eyes, he said, "I downloaded the contents of a laptop over there. It took a while. I have to go downtown." He started for the door. "I need a secure line to send this download to Bill Johnson at the field office."
On her feet, Ashley blocked the door. "You're not telling me something. What happened over there? Did he set a booby trap?"
"Not exactly."
"What does that mean?"
He backed up, then dropped into an upholstered chair–a vacant look in his eyes. Ashley waited for his answer. Finally it came. "There's someone over there."
"My God, our cover is blown!"
"No. It's not."
"What do you mean?"
"She is blinded with a black bag over her head and is tied up.
"She? A black bag? How can you be sure it's a woman?"
"Because she’s naked."
Ashley stepped back to steady herself, a hand on the kitchen counter. "What’s her condition?
"She made a sound. Like a moan or a cry, but she isn't aware of anything. I checked her pulse. It's weak." He forced himself to focus on Ashley. "She's a tiny thing tied to a king-size bed. Splayed at both ends. Arms stretched out tight over her head. Feet spread wide and tied to a pipe. She's been there a while."
Ashley tried to piece together the image.
"There are bruises all over her body and plenty of dried blood. The pelvic region has most of the blood." He stared at Ashley, his hands gripped the arms of the chair, his jaw muscle tight. "I think you get the picture."
She got the picture. She could see the woman in her mind. A wretched creature being used up little by little until...until....
Jerry stood. "I have to go. You need to stay in contact with Fred and Joe."
Ashley moved forward. "We can't leave her there."
"I don't like this any more than you, but we can't make a move now. Touch that woman and we expose the surveillance. The whole operation blows up."
"She needs help. She needs us."
"I'll talk to the SAC. See what Kent thinks. I got a go." He opened the door and stepped out. "I'm sorry. I've seen a lot over the years, but nothing quite like this." He shut the door.
Seconds later Ashley heard the truck start and pull out of the driveway. Her wristwatch read two minutes past two o'clock.