Election Day (John Taylor #6) - Chapter 9

Both he and Whitaker fell asleep quickly. It had been a long day already with the promise of several longer days to come, at least until they found Hubbard. Normally, Whitaker would have been up worrying about how to deal with their apartment, dealing with the insurance, and finding a new place to live. The fact that she was able to just go to sleep spoke volumes about how tired she was. Taylor, on the other hand, was always able to just go to sleep, regardless of what was going on. It was one of the things he learned in the army. You never knew when you were going to sleep or for how long, so you got what you could, now.

The part about never knowing how much sleep you were going to get turned out to be true this time, as a gentle knock on their door pulled him awake. The other thing the Army had taught him was to be a light sleeper, just in case a hostile, or worse a drill sergeant, was to sneak up and cause mischief.

Taylor swung his legs over the edge of the bed, trying to keep from waking up Whitaker. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, which was good enough to find out whatever the person at the door wanted. Walking quietly, he edged the door open, finding one of the Secret Service agents standing outside the door. It wasn’t one of the ones assigned to Caldwell’s personal detail, which gave Taylor a moment of pause.

Before the man could speak Taylor held a finger up and motioned for the man to stand back enough for Taylor to come out of the room and close the door.

“What’s happened?” Taylor asked once the door was closed.

“There’s been a sighting of Hubbard a few miles from here. He was gone before we could get to him, but there’s a van with New York plates that was reported stolen yesterday parked in the same area. Cole is preparing a team to investigate it.”

“Cole sent you to tell me about it?”

“No. The Senator called and asked that I let you know.”

“She’s not here?”

She’d mentioned she had an event today, but he was surprised she was gone already.

“No, she left a few hours ago.”

“When is Cole going to move on the van?”

“In the next thirty minutes. With Hubbard this close, he didn’t want to pull anyone off protection details, so he’s assembling a separate team to check out the van.”

“Got it. Thanks for the heads up.”

The man just gave him a nod and headed back towards the stairs to the first floor. Taylor assumed this agent was on Mary Jane’s detail, which was why he didn’t recognize him. It was probably a good thing that Caldwell had been gone, since her agents were under Cole’s direct command. They would have been less likely to notify him of anything, regardless of what Caldwell had asked.

Slipping back inside their room, Taylor nudged Whitaker gently until she woke up.

“Huh…wha…?”

“Get up. Hubbard’s been sighted nearby and they’re about to move on the van they think he drove down in. I want to see the scene before they trash it.”

To Whitaker’s credit, it only took her a few seconds to push through her sleep haze and absorb what he’d said. Within five minutes they were both dressed and walking out of Caldwell’s house. He’d found the agent who’d delivered Caldwell’s message and gotten direction to where Cole was assembling his team, near the van.

He knew Cole’s type enough to know to join them there, rather than going to the van itself. Even if it turned out to be nothing, Cole wasn’t the type who could stand someone stepping over him.

They wound through Georgetown streets, Whitaker directing him until they came to a bank parking lot littered with government-plated vehicles. Men were gearing up in vests and checking weapons as Taylor and Whitaker pulled up. Cole intercepted them as they got out of their vehicle.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“We heard about Hubbard and wanted to see the van,” Taylor said.

A look of annoyance flashed across Cole’s face. Taylor had to give it to the man; he didn’t need much time to work out who’d given Taylor and Whitaker the heads up on what was going on.

“We have this under control. Just go back and let us do our jobs.”

“Not a chance. We have every right to be here and he’s only a mile from my friends and my daughter. You can either let us work with you or deal with us being in the way. Those are your two choices.”

“Do what you want, but if you get in my way, you’re going in cuffs.”

With that Cole went back to his men to give last-minute instructions. For his bluster, Taylor hadn’t planned on getting in the way. He wasn’t wearing body armor and only had his sidearm while these guys were geared up for war. While he didn’t know the Secret Service’s equivalent, he'd had to deal with Bureau tactical teams before. As much as he called into question the thinking of people like Cole, these guys usually knew what they were doing. He had no problem letting them do their jobs while he and Whitaker followed behind.

While he normally drove when they were together, they’d agreed it was better to have Whitaker behind the wheel now. She’d dealt with this kind of thing more often than he had and would have a better sense of how to stay with Cole’s men, who operated from a very similar playbook to the Bureau.

The Secret Service tactical team and agents all broke off to the assembled vehicles. Taylor and Whitaker followed last in the line of cars that headed to the outskirts of D.C. The agent on Mary Jane’s detail had told them where to find Cole but not the exact location of the sighting itself, so they could do little but follow Cole and his men and hope they didn’t miss Hubbard.

As they turned onto one of the scattered suburbs around DC, the cars in front of them blacked out their lights. It must have been some kind of standard procedure because Whitaker instantly shut off her lights as well as if she’d been waiting for that.

Turning a street, Taylor could see what he guessed was their target. Idling on a curb was a white panel van. He could see the silhouette of someone inside, although the windows were partially fogged up, making it hard to make out any details.

The lead cars roared around the van and swung behind it, cutting off any attempt of escape, while the ones further back from the line of cars stopped right in front of it, completely blocking it in.

As soon as the cars stopped, the tactical team members poured out, weapons pointed at the van, using the cars for cover. Several of them began shouting commands for the driver to exit the vehicle with their hands up.

Whitaker and Taylor had stopped well back from the whole scene, blocked by Secret Service vehicles whose agents were also staying out of the tactical team’s way.

“Something’s not right,” Taylor said, looking at the scene.

“I know,” Whitaker said.

Taylor got out of the car and started moving up at a crouch towards the tactical team but was stopped when the door of one of the cars in front of them flew open and Cole stepped out.

“No. Stay out of their way.”

“Cole, it’s a trap. He isn’t in there.”

“What?”

“He isn’t in there. Hubbard wouldn’t ever be in the situation. Sitting there in a running car, in a neighborhood where he’s certain someone will call in a strange van in the middle of the night, heater going inside so the windows fog up, blocking his vision. Everything he’s done so far is smarter than this, and we know he goes for traps and diversions.”

Cole looked back at the van, his brow creased, working through what Taylor said. Once again, Taylor had to give Cole credit. Instead of doubling down he turned away from Taylor and waved the agents who’d been in the car with him to follow. Taylor, now joined by Whitaker, followed the group of them towards the van.

“Sir, what…” The tactical team leader said as the group of them came into view.

“Something isn’t right. Check the driver.”

The team leader’s mouth drew in a tight line, obviously not happy about the command, but he did as he was told, signaling for two of his men to circle around the front end of the van close enough to see into the cab of the van. As a credit to their professionalism, the rest of the men readjusted to keep the two assigned men from ending up in crossfire if things turned sideways quickly.

Taylor could sympathize with their displeasure. If Hubbard had been in the van, both men would be exposed. While their friends would be able to put Hubbard down quickly, they wouldn’t be quick enough to save these two. Taylor, however, was still confident in his assessment.

This confidence was proven right moments later when one of the two men signaled back that the cab was empty.

“This is a trap,” Taylor said. “Get your men back.”

“Shut up. If you keep interfering I’ll put you in cuffs and you can spend the day sitting in a cell. I don’t give a shit who you’ve got backing you.”

Taylor knew that was mostly bluster. Cole was enough of a career man to not do something to jeopardize a likely move to the President’s detail if, as seemed likely, Caldwell won the election. Despite that, Taylor knew he was pushing it. He’d made his concerns heard and backed up to observe.

He knew this was a diversion and possibly a trap for the people assigned to protect Caldwell, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth investigating. Hubbard was good, but no one was perfect. There was a chance he’d left something behind that would give them a clue about where he was.

Taylor and Whitaker circled around to get a clear view of the drivers’ side as the men pulled the door open. Sitting in the driver’s seat was a mannequin. Not very realistic, but at night through fogged-up windows, it was life-like enough to look like a person. It wouldn’t have fooled anyone in the daytime, even with the fogged-up windows, which meant that Hubbard had planned out the timing of the discovery of the van.

Taylor was pondering that when he heard a faint electronic sound different from a running vehicle’s normal noises.

He wasn’t the only one who heard it as one of the two men who’d investigated the sound pushed his friend around and said, “Run!”

Considering Hubbard’s background no one needed to be told twice. Taylor, Whitaker, and the two men turned and sprinted away from the van. While most of the men on the other side of the van might not have been able to hear the warning, all of them knew what seeing agents running away from the vehicle meant.

They’d managed to make it twenty yards from the van before it exploded, the concussive force knocking Taylor, Whitaker, and the two agents to the ground. Taylor was pretty sure Hubbard had mistimed the detonator, which probably was supposed to go off when the door was opened. Hubbard hadn’t seemed shy about collateral damage before, so it didn’t make sense to have a delay built-in now. Even experienced hand-triggered explosives were fickle things, which is why so many expert explosive makers were missing fingers.

Whatever the reason, Taylor was glad there had been a delay. Without it, Taylor, Whitaker, and a half dozen federal agents would all be dead instead of just bruised and battered.

The men outside of the blast radius came running; pulling them away from the now burning wreck that had been the van. The level of chatter picked up as agents called in the explosion, called for medics, and argued over what this meant and what to do next.

Taylor ignored them, trying to push past the fuzziness that comes from being smashed into the ground. A thought hovered just out of reach, something important.

“Are you okay?” Whitaker asked, leaning over him as he continued to sit on the ground, looking him over for more serious injuries.

“Yes, but this doesn’t make sense.”

“That Hubbard would try and kill us? This is the second time he’s tried to blow us up. Hell, it’s practically a pattern now.”

“This wasn’t directed at us. There was no way to know we’d respond, or that we’d be at the Senators’ house at all. He wouldn’t have a plan to kill us that involves hoping we’re among the people that respond, and that we’re the ones who open the van or investigate it. That’s not how he was trained to operate.”

“Okay, so he just wanted to kill agents. He’s done that before too.”

“No, they were collateral damage for a device meant to get to the Senator. He parked this van here specifically to be discovered. He picked this neighborhood to make sure one of the neighbors called it in and put a dummy in the front, so we’d think there was someone inside the car. He knew it would bring the Secret Service out in force, which meant they wouldn’t let the Senator within a mile of this location. Why?”

Whitaker was silent before her eyes widened and she said, “A diversion?”

“Yes,” Taylor said, pushing himself off the ground, ignoring the soreness that still lingered. “Yes, of course. He knew it would pull agents in force, and the closest source would be those stationed at the Senators’ house. They wouldn’t wait for backup when he was that close. He was trying to pull agents off the Senators’ detail. We need to get back to her house, now!”

“Kara!” Whitaker said, her voice heavy with worry as they ran past the agents still milling around.

“Taylor! Whitaker! Where the hell…” Cole’s voice called after them, cutting off when as the doors to their SUV shut, blocking out whatever else he might have said.

Taylor could see Cole and several agents start to sprint towards them as he threw the SUV in reverse, tearing down the street before spinning the wheel hard. The bulky vehicle turned hard, whipping around one-hundred and eighty degrees, its mass threatening to roll over as Taylor pushed the vehicle to its limits.

In the ghostly red glow of the taillights, he could see Cole stop, looking furious as they sped away.

Taylor pushed the SUV hard, taking corners at dangerous speeds, causing the heavy vehicle to tip dangerously as it tried to stay on all four wheels. Normally, Whitaker would have been berating him for his driving, treating civilian vehicles like he was still driving military hardware.

Instead, she ignored it, one hand dialing Kara while the other held onto the bat by the passenger door to brace herself.

“Anything,” Taylor asked as he whipped around a driver that didn’t seem to know what to do about the sirens on an unmarked vehicle.

“She’s not answering.”

“Did you try the home line?”

“Yes,” she said, as she searched for another number in her phone. “It went straight to voicemail.”

“An agent didn’t pick up? It didn’t ring? They have multiple lines that roll over, so the agents always have outside service if they need it.”

“I know, but no. Just voicemail.”

“Did you call…?”

“I’m doing it now. You watch the damn road,” Whitaker said, sounding annoyed.

Taylor didn’t take it personally; he knew she was worried. Of course, his incessant questions were only because he was worried too.

“Damn,” she said, hanging up and sliding the phone into her pocket. “The agent on duty isn’t answering either.”

“Do you want to call the locals?”

“They won’t get anyone there faster than we’ll get there. If they show up after us we’ll have to stop and ID, so they know we’re supposed to be there. Cole will figure out where we’re going. He’s a pain in the ass but he’s not stupid. He’ll have his guys right behind us and he’ll call the locals out as backup. It’s their SOP.”

“Fine,” Taylor said as they pulled onto the Senator’s street.

While the front of the Senators’ house was suspiciously quiet that, in of itself, wasn’t something to get alarmed about. The agents and the cars that would have been stationed in front of her house had gone with Cole to investigate the van. Mary Jane had her own detail which usually included two agents at any given time, both of whom would have stayed behind to watch her while Cole and his men dashed off after Hubbard.

Taylor did see something to be concerned with when he pulled up in front of the gate. The front door of the Senator’s house was standing half open; something the agents still stationed inside would never have allowed to happen.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he slid out of the car, pulling his gun out of its holster.

Whitaker must have noticed as well, because she’d also drawn her weapon by the time she came around the front of the vehicle. Neither said anything as they rushed towards the house, each taking a position beside the front door. Taylor, who was by the hinged side of the door, made eye contact with her to ensure she was ready, then pushed on the partially opened door so she had a clear line of fire. To his surprise, the door only moved an inch and then stopped, hitting some kind of obstacle.

Giving it one more single hand push, he shook his head at Whitaker, telling her he couldn’t open it any further. She gave a single nod and went through the partially opened door, weapon extended in front of her, sweeping the front entryway.

Taylor followed behind her, finding the blocked door a tighter fit. As soon as he was through, we saw what had kept the door from opening. Lying behind it was the body of the agent who’d given them a heads up about Cole’s team leaving to check out the sighting of Hubbard. A thin, dark line stood out stark against the man’s neck, circling around until he couldn’t see it any longer.

Taylor knelt down and wasn’t surprised when he found no pulse. He was just standing up when three gunshots burst through the silence, coming from the second floor.