Page 23 of Deadly Target
A man hustled past the door, coming back and peeking his head around the frame a second later. “Dr. Collins?”
Emma stood and brushed down her skirt. “Dr. Walsh? What are you doing here?”
He was tall and lean, the hint of a beard covering his jaws. He seemed to fill up the room as he entered, extending a hand to Emma. “I have a theory to run by the director.” He glanced at Olivia and offered his hand to her as well. “Roman Walsh, Director of the Southern California Domestic Terrorism Taskforce. You’re Olivia Fiorelli, correct?”
The DTT was under Homeland. Olivia rose to her feet and shook his hand, wondering where he recognized her from. Had he been at the Christmas party? “I don’t believe we’ve met before, have we?”
A commotion sounded in the hallway. Victor appeared at the door. “They’re moving him to the cardiac floor. Since he’s awake but still in serious condition, that’s the best place to keep an eye on him.”
“That’s good news,” Olivia said.
Victor stepped aside as Cooper was wheeled by, Celina following. “Roman, good to see you,” he said. “You mentioned in your text earlier you had information I needed? We have time to catch up—the nurses say it will be half an hour or so before we can talk to Cooper again. Once they get him situated, the doctor wants to check him over.”
Roman glanced around, noting the waiting area was empty outside of the four of them. Still, he seemed to think it better if they had privacy. “Any chance they have a conference room available?”
“On the first floor,” Emma volunteered. “I’ll get someone to open it for us. That’ll give Cooper and Celina time to adjust to the new room before Victor questions him.”
She led the way, Roman on her heels. Olivia grabbed Victor’s hand before he could follow. “I should probably get going.”
He looked disappointed. “You sure? I could use your input on whatever Roman has found.”
Hearing that he wanted her in on the meeting caused a flush of heat to her chest. “Dr. Walsh might feel differently. I may not have clearance for whatever he’s going to talk about.”
“If you’re with me, he’ll grant you clearance. All I have to do is say the word.”
The warmth spread lower. “Do you know how sexy that is?”
“What?”
“The way you swing your power around like that.”
He chuckled and tugged her after him.
They caught up with the others at the elevator and rode down to the first floor, Taz bracing his feet at the drop and giving Olivia a worried look. Emma texted someone she knew and, by the time they arrived at the conference room, her friend had unlocked it and placed several bottled waters on the credenza for them.
Victor sat at the head of the table and Olivia took the chair to his right. Emma sat next to her and Roman paced the floor. Taz wedged between the table leg and Olivia’s chair, laying his head on one of her feet.
“Did Cooper see anyone?” the head of the DTT asked Victor.
“He did,” Victor answered. All eyes swung to him. “At least, he thinks he did. Everything happened fast, and his memory is blurry. We only spoke for a minute or two before the nurses kicked me out to move him, but what he told me is, he believes he saw a Suarez gang member as he and Celina walked to the park. The male suspect is approximately 5’7”, Hispanic, and clean shaven. He wore a red baseball hat cocked to the left over a purple bandana wrapped around his head. He sported a flame tattoo on one arm, and was wearing a leather vest with the gang symbol on the back. The guy walked past the park entrance, looked square at Cooper, and jumped into a rusted out, late 80s, Pontiac Grand Prix that pulled up to the curb. No license plate. The car circled the park once, then disappeared.”
Roman stopped pacing and pulled several papers out of his briefcase. “You like this kid for the shooter?”
Victor shrugged. “I do. He’s the best lead we’ve got and it jives with some of the intel we’ve received.”
Roman handed out papers to each of them and took a seat. “Preliminary report on the bomb that blew up Agent Mann’s car this morning. I put a rush on it.”
Like the others, Olivia scanned the chain of command, agency number, and the brief description of the scene. Explosive device specialists had examined what the crime scene technicians had recovered, which wasn’t much. It appeared to be an IED and had been sent to the FBI’s Terrorist Explosive Device Analytical Center to see if they could match it to anything in their database.
The homemade improvised explosive device was simple in its makeup and yet had caused the death of an agent. In Olivia’s mind, it made no difference how it was designed or what materials had been put into it—the result was the same.
“There weren’t any large enough remnants of the bomb to provide us with fingerprints,” Roman said, “but the bomber left us a different kind. The explosive was placed in a backpack we assume was tossed under the car. It appears it was triggered by the call from a cell phone.”
They all looked at him, waiting, anticipating. What kind of fingerprint was he talking about, and how did this help the case?
“Is this bomb similar to others you’ve investigated?” Victor asked.
“The bomb itself is pretty generic; it’s what it was carried in that gave us a clue.”
