Special Agent Cruz tossed two pills into her mouth and took a swig of her soft drink. Her head throbbed. “So, that’s it. He just disappears from the radar and after three years suddenly shows up outside a bombed-out tavern in D.C.”
“It’s weird, I know.” O’Neal finished the last of his French fries after swirling them in catsup.
Cruz started to speak, but stopped when her cell phone rang. She answered it. “Cruz…Uh-huh…Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“What’s going on, Cruz?”
She dug a twenty-dollar bill out of her pocket and threw it on the table. “They found the SUV from this morning. Let’s go.”
She dropped O’Neal at the office and sped toward the house where the D.C. police had found the SUV. She parked her Charger in the driveway behind two police cars, hurried to the garage and flashed her credentials to an officer. “What do you have?” She put on a pair of rubber gloves, given to her by another officer.
The first officer read from his notepad, summarizing his notes. “The homeowner came home for lunch to find the SUV parked in his garage. When he saw the bodies, he backed out and called the police.” The officer pointed toward the three duffle bags in the back of the SUV. “That’s some heavy hardware. What do you think was going on here?”
“I’m not sure.” Cruz searched the vehicle for clues. She discovered the shots she had fired at the scene made contact with the man in the front passenger seat and killed him. The man in the back seat had his neck snapped, presumably by Hardy. Cruz was impressed. He had been surrounded by four armed men and he killed three of them. After examining their gear and clothing, she could see these men were highly trained. It would have required superior hand-to-hand fighting skills for someone to do what Hardy had done.
She spent the next two hours talking to the homeowner, investigating the scene and knocking on doors in the neighborhood to find out if anyone had seen anything. She discovered Hardy had taken clothes and a computer tablet from the house and left $500 on the table. He was most likely armed, since there were four men in the SUV and only three duffle bags.
Cruz checked her phone—it was close to 3:30. She wrapped up everything with the responding officers and thanked them before leaving for her meeting with Senator Hastings. En route, she got a call from O’Neal. “What is it, Marty?”
“We got an ID on one of the dead DHS agents from the shooting. Are you ready for this? He’s ex-military and employed by…The Tucker Group.”
Cruz checked her side view mirror. “The same Tucker Group that’s receiving the money transfers from the Swiss bank account?”
“That’s right. We also found out that twelve of the people killed in the tavern blast were ex-Marines. Like Hardy, their service records stop three years ago.”
Cruz had another piece of the puzzle. Her mind was in overdrive, trying to put the pieces together. Hardy must have known and served with those Marines. She pushed her foot down on the accelerator to make it through a traffic light. That blast was no act of terror. It’s too much of a coincidence. Four men posing as DHS agents, one of whom was working for The Tucker Group, kidnapped Hardy less than twelve hours after he survived an explosion that killed a dozen other Marines. Her mind was a million miles away when O’Neal spoke to her.
“Cruz, are you still there?”
She blinked her eyes. “Yeah, I’m here.”
O’Neal knew she had not heard him. “I said I think I may have a connection between The Tucker Group and Hardy. Right before they went dark, Hardy and those Marines were under the command of a Colonel Franklin Ludlum. He’s now high up on the food chain over at the Department of Defense.”
“I’m going to need to talk to him.” Cruz found a parking spot and shut off the engine to the Charger.
“I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of contacting the DOD. Ludlum’s secretary said he left early for the day and was heading home. He has a place on Kent Island. I sent you a text with all the information.”
“Thanks, Marty.” Cruz slammed the car door and hurried toward the building. “I’ll head over there after I’m done with Senator Hastings. I owe you one.” She ended her call and hustled through the front door.