The Hill - BLACKBIRD book 5

11. war council

Gillian arrived earlier than usual to the field office next morning, planning to finish her reading before the team got there. She recognized right away the tall black suit standing before Cooper's desk, sighed under her breath and walked into the team's office. Just out of habit, she passed by her own desk to Fred's. And she'd just realized Aldana wasn't there yet, so she had a unique chance to claim back her desk, when Cooper's assistant showed at the door. So she picked up the folders she'd already read and went to knock on Cooper's door.

The Iron Lady didn't look up from the paper in her hands. "Close the door," was all she said.

Brock hardly glanced up at her, as if only to check who was coming in, and scowled back down at Cooper, folded arms. So Gillian nodded hi actually at his ear, standing near the closed door and feeling both awkward and relieved at the way he ignored her.

Something beeped from Cooper's computer and she aimed a remote at the large screen across the office.

Cassidy greeted them from his own office in DC. "Agent Cooper, Brockners... where's the honeymooner?"

"Coleman will be here in ten," Brock replied, ignoring what Cassidy had just called him and Gillian.

She, on her part, shoot a death glare at the Section Chief, mostly to fight back the heat creeping up her face.

"Then he'll catch up later. What d'you have, Brockner?"

"Actually, nothing concrete, sir," Brock said, and his tone set off an alarm inside Gillian. The last time she'd heard him speak like that had been when the Wood case. So whatever this Maine case was about, it was big, or serious, or both.

"I know, but you've got a hunch. Else we wouldn't be talking. So speak up."

"We're still unable to identify any of the subjects, save the two ex-Marines, the only ones with a record."

"Then what d'you have on them?"

"Their online photo albums, sir." Brock let Cassidy roll his eyes while he grabbed a page from Cooper's desk. "There was at least two or three of them at each of this places: Oakland, July 2013; Ferguson, August 2014; and Baltimore, New York, Denver, Philadelphia, Charleston and McKinney this year."

Gillian shoot a questioning scowl at Brock. What the hell was he looking into?

Brock didn't seem to notice, eyes on the screen where Cassidy frowned. "You're not suggesting they were involved in those attacks. All the attackers were identified and brought to justice."

Gillian couldn't keep her mouth shut. "There were riots at all those places at that time. African American protestors and local PDs clashed on the streets. Agent Brockner means his subjects were involved in the riots, not in the attacks."

Brock didn't even blink at her interruption, and kept staring straight at Cassidy.

"You mentioned McKinney... That's Texas, right? The pool party? No protests there."

"There were white civilians helping the police to reduce the black teens," said Cooper.

Cassidy looked away. "Shit. So?"

"That's what I have, sir. This so-called Christophe Balken with a neonazi tattoo and a special rifle, both things linking him to the smugglers. And his associates at every major race-related disorder over the last two years, all of them using aliases and fake addresses to stay under the grid."

Cassidy nodded slowly. "So you may be on a secret militia, spread throughout the country, showing up whenever a hate crime causes public unrest. And wherever they go, things get out of control and violence ensues..."

"Pretty much, sir."

"But whether they're spread all over, or move around like a pack, one of their chapters may be based on Maine. And they all answer to our two generals," said Cassidy. "The fancy Balken-Kreuz brothers. So what's your next move?"

"A search in news chronicles of those events, to see if we can place any of them at the riots. Meanwhile, I'm going back to Warren. The smugglers may not know about the whole operation, but the corporal reported to a sergeant. All we need him to do is point at one picture. I'm confident we can track back his chain of command from there."

"If their sergeant didn't change even his face after the Three Stooges went down a year ago." Cassidy narrowed his eyes. "Okay. If they refuse to cooperate, they'll be paroled by sunset. And they'll exit Warren with you, wearing Bureau jackets. Let them know their faces will make the national news tomorrow, as moles helping the FBI to solve the Maine hate crimes."

"I'll have Janowsky contact local media, to have a good number of cameras," said Cooper.

"Janowsky?" repeated Cassidy.

"He runs our Portland agency," Brock replied. "Coleman and I are working the case with them, like we worked on the smugglers' last year."

"D'you have a good tech onboard?"

Brock's head tilted an inch toward Gillian, but his eyes stayed on the screen. "I borrowed Lawrence."

"The rest of my team is available too," she quickly said.

"Keep your lads on stand-by, Gillian," Cassidy replied, final, and turned to Brock. "Try to assess before tonight if you're gonna need any backup, what kind and how many. Cooper will see you get it. Starting tomorrow, see Gillian for any kind of request. I trust she'll make sure you get everything you need."

None of them paid any attention to Cassidy's tease.

Gillian knew that particular scowl on Brock's face: he was surprised at Cassidy's words. Which surprised her. Neither Cassidy nor Cooper had told him about the Iron Lady's leave and Gillian covering for her until Monday? Not even Russell had mentioned it? That could only mean all of them were aware he didn't want to even hear from her. No need to play distant, in the end. His rejection had overcome his last hint of concern and wiped it away. The idea distracted her, and Brock's cologne got to her nostrils. Both things added to only one conclusion: she really needed to get the hell out of there and away from him.

"Keep me up," she heard Cassidy say, and the screen went black.