Into the Specter

Chapter 17

(a/n) Is it unreasonable to say I've been distracted by the Burberry photos and that's why this chapter took a day longer than I thought? Lol just kidding but 👀.

You're startled at the sound of footsteps up the stairwell. Snapping out of your stare at the bank, your eyes lock onto the door swinging open. It's Ron, thankfully.

You wait for him to cross the empty space from your position sitting down against one of the concrete pillars. Plastic tarps cover most of the ground and wires are hanging from various places on the ceiling. Ron hands you a brown paper bag as he slumps down to lean against the opposite pillar with a sigh. Looking in the bag, there's a sandwich wrapped up in foil. He takes his out and begins opening it.

"Thank you," you say, taking the sandwich out of the bag. Ron chomps into his, nodding with his mouth full to acknowledge you. Taking a bite of yours, you look down to the bank again, mind stuck on Flip.

"So they didn't tell you?" you ask.

Ron clears his throat and shakes his head. "Sent him in with the food, apparently he's supposed to report back on whether or not you're in there."

At that, you snap your head to him with a bewildered look. He just shrugs his shoulders and then explains the FBI's reasoning for why you're apparently in the bank and not on the run somewhere. You're speechless. Confused. Trying to wrap your mind around the whole situation as Ron continues talking.

"-so I don't know what they're planning because I was just helping forensics, comparing with what we had, and it's not like we had much to begin with, just a candy wrapper and minimal electronic trails but-"

"Did you say candy wrapper?" you ask, interrupting him with a surprised look on your face.

Ron pauses. "Yeah, why," he says, hesitantly. He's still not used to the idea of working with you but since nothing came of the evidence he figures there was no harm in mentioning it. Now, he's not so sure.

"Nothing important," you say, quickly backtracking. "When do you have to go back?"

Ron sighs and looks out the window. "About fifteen minutes, I told them I was grabbing lunch." He nods to the sandwich in his hand. "I hope he knows what he's doing," he sighs, shaking his head.

You agree. It all happened so fast. With Flip in there you have no idea how the feds will play this. It doesn't look like they're preparing to go in but, then again, wrongly predicting what the police will do is what got you in this mess in the first place.

"Hey- look, down there," Ron says, pointing with his finger directly across the street down below. You scoot forward and look to where he's pointing. "Do you see that?" he asks, voice cautious.

Your eye immediately catches on two men standing side by side at the edge of the block.

Setting the sandwich down, you reach for the binoculars. When you focus on them, it looks like they're talking without facing each other, only slightly moving their mouths.

"That's Agent Johnson, on the left," whispers Ron, leaning closer to the glass. With sunglasses on you didn't recognize him but now you see it.

They continue talking, with no emotions on their faces. Slowly and subtly, Agent Johnson pulls something from the inside of his coat. Too small to see what it is. He places it in the pocket of the other man's coat without looking at him.

The two of you watch them walk away from each other without another word. You follow the other man with your binoculars down the street until he turns a corner.

"They're definitely up to something," says Ron, leaning back against the pillar.

You nod, realizing for the first time that Ron and Flip might be on to something. If the feds have other motivations besides stopping you, you want to get your team out of here as fast as possible.