Jayden Roe Mystery 02-The Final Lie by Lily Campbell (read a book .TXT) 📗

a time, ignoring the tight pull and never absent pain from his still recovering thigh. He skidded to a halt before the huge crest of the organization he had served since leaving school.

“Everyone!” his voice the first in the room to show no anxiety of any kind.

All eyes turned at the call, relief visible in more than a few. Tony swallowed another curse. Being the one everyone thought could solve anything was a heavy burden and a status doomed to failure. One day, you were bound to fall short of such high expectations.

Ok. Let’s not make that today.

“Alright people, enough running around to their beat. We’re the ones running this show. Let’s remind them of it.”

A few smiles greeted his words, but they were still tense and many of the senior agents wore looks of mild disbelief. The report in his hands told him why. They had been tracking a terrorist cell for a few months but to no avail. Trying to discover and arrest members and also to stop them before any plans could be carried out was harder than it had sounded.

It looked as if his preemptive move last week to take down a high-ranking member was now apt to backfire spectacularly. A member who had escaped their net had just been seen walking into the Smithsonian through a back entrance.

He looked at the expectant faces and resisted the urge to shake his head. The FBI was supposed to be like the old Roman legions. A single mind made out of multiple bodies. A unit of no personality, no individual thought, with a single goal. If it had ever been that, it must have been long before his time. Now his team was waiting on his commands with their insufficient training.

Tony Carrow took a deep breath, letting his sharp gaze fall on the people he wanted, picking them from the crowd.

“Agent Dawson, get your team into the security feed. I want to know where our target is at all times.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Agent Clark, take your team to the scene. We have men on the ground already. Get in touch and ensure a tight perimeter.

“Yes, sir.”

“Agent Luther, get in touch with our head. Let her know what has changed and the plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The rest of you, get on communications. I want to know if anything changes and I also want a count of who is at the Smithsonian today.”

As the people moved out, Daniel Harper sidelined closer. “And us, sir?”

Tony glanced at his sidelong. “We are going to find out why he changed targets.”

Agent Harper nodded, though a small crease had appeared between his brows. “Isn’t it possible that he realized the target was a setup?”

“Maybe, but I want to know how and why. Get to it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony watched Agent Clark and his team leave with mild regret. Being right in the line of fire had once been his job. But a limping agent was not worth much in a gunfight. Now he was stuck here, promoted to Special Agent-in-Charge for acts of bravery, they had taken the one thing that made him feel like their war against terror was actually making progress.

“Don’t let it get you down. Just because you aren’t out there wearing body armor doesn’t mean you aren’t making a contribution.”

“Are you mocking me, rookie?”

Agent Harper flashed a small smile. “Not at all, sir.”

“Then get to work.”

He watched the younger man settle behind a computer and felt his lips twitch. Usually, these new bloods that kept foisting on him didn’t last long. Agent Harper’s only fault was that he seemed not to understand the time and place for certain things. But unlike the others, his enthusiasm did not lead to reckless behavior and his obedience was genuine rather than grudgingly forked out. He was quick to spot patterns and had a remarkable memory for names and faces.

Tony turned to the other monitors scattered around and looked over the security feeds from inside the buildings. People milled about aimlessly, unaware that they might be living the last few moments of their lives. A father was shaking a finger at his son after scooping the young child back over the barrier. A mother sat in an alcove with a nursing infant. University students laughed and spoke, all the sounds of life silenced in the grey wash footage.

Tony felt his hands begin to clench and forced them to relax. He was well-practiced in displaying no emotions of a calm, cool-headed leader, but inside, he felt everything those around him were showing. His fears for all the strangers on the screens around him were like a choking vine. If they couldn’t get to the target first and disarm him, many innocent lives would be lost.

“He’s been spotted. An officer is tailing him now,” Agent Dawson called out, not looking up from his three screens. Two were streaming an endless array of programming that put Tony in mind of the Matrix, but the last had singled out a target to follow from camera to camera.

“Good. Remind him not to be spotted. Our team should be there soon. Once they get there, begin to calmly extract the civilians. Any mundane excuse will do.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony watched the target for a moment longer. Everything, from the man’s clothes to the set, concealed the look on his face that spoke of evil to come. It was a look one came to recognize quite early on in this line of work.

Feeling his anxiety rise, he turned to another monitor. Staring at the man would not make him any less likely to kill. Outside the building, he watched Agent Clark and his team arrive. No sirens, no fanfare to frighten the public. They drove round back and Tony released some of the tension in his chest. Civilians would begin being moved and his agents would