Illumini

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The grizzled, veteran TDRA agent, named Pandarus, slammed his fist down on the table.

On the video conference, the agents in the counterterrorism command center felt his intensity.

"Damn!" he said.  "How did you lose them?" he screamed at the agents.  "We were right on top of them."  With his brow furrowed, his broad shoulders, and flat crew cut, his intimidating presence came clearly over the video camera embedded at the top of the large screen.

"Sir, we've lost the trail.  What do you want to do?"

"Are they on foot?"

"Sir, we do not have confirmation."

"They must have another vehicle," Pandarus said questioning himself, searching for their thoughts, trying to think like them, become them.

"They must be running on the Mass Pike," he continued.  "Set up a road block."

"On the highway?" one of the agents questioned.

"Yes!  Set it up now," Pandarus demanded.  He looked down at the interactive map, "Just before exit 16."

"Sir, that is a state highway, we need authorization from state authorities.  It is supposed to be a joint operation on any state highway system.  If you cause a massive traffic jam..."

Pandarus cast a fierce look into the video camera and cut them off.  "Let me worry about that.  You get them rolling now, before we lose them again."

"Yes, sir."

Thinking through his other options in a flash, Pandarus continued to issue orders.  "Cordon off the area around the jeep for eight blocks, if they are on foot they cannot have gotten far."

"Yes, sir."

Pandarus was furious.  He was so close, literally minutes behind.  He had to get ahead of them.  He knew they would be fleeing, with only one thought and that was to get as far away as fast as possible, and that meant the highway.

Pandarus was a military man through and through, from his crew cut all the way down to his pressed trousers and shined shoes.  He understood the chain of command intuitively; he gave orders without hesitation and followed orders without questions.  Proficient, punctual, and proud his life was completely determined by the organization that he belonged to.  More than anything else, who he really was behind that mask, could be entirely defined by the elite unit he belonged to that made him special.

He picked up his cell phone and called his commanding officer.

Howard Chaffee, the head of the TDRA, looked at the incoming call.  "James," he welcomed the agent, referring to him by his civilian name.  "What do you have for me?"

"They are running.  West on I90.  I have set up a road block," Pandarus informed.

"Are you sure?" Howard challenged.  "Do you have confirmation?"

"No," Pandarus admitted.  "The FPPA found the suspect's Jeep in Cambridge.  We believe they are in another vehicle.  There was no time to waste or we risked losing them."

"Understood," Howard acknowledged.  "Do you have approval from the state?'

"Negative.  I need you to make a call to the Massachusetts Office of Public Safety and get this cleared," Pandarus requested.

"I'll call the secretary and get this taken care of immediately," Howard committed.  "Keep me posted."

"Yes, sir."

"And Roberto, do we know more yet about what happened with project Illumini?" Howard inquired.

"Not yet, only what was provided to us in the briefing," Pandarus replied.

"Get a hold of our contact inside the project.  We need some answers," Howard hesitated, thinking things through rapidly.  "And find those suspects.  We need to get them first, before Atlas security does."

"Understood, sir."

"It is critical that we know everything about Project Illumini, this is too important to fail," Howard leveled the ultimatum.

"Yes, sir," Pandarus responded aggressively, as if on instinct, a habit born of years in military service.

"I will call Taylor and get our road block approved," Howard finished.

Howard Chaffee was a veteran of the political establishment.  He had acquired and exercised power through the most unethical and cunning of methods, working his way up the hierarchy one office at a time.  Everyone owed him a favor, in some capacity or another, and he used these political debts skillfully.  Within minutes, he was on the phone to Secretary Taylor, political head of the Massachusetts Office of Public Safety, who oversaw the state police.

The Secretary's mobile phone rang beside his bed.  He picked it up and looked at the name.  "It's early Howard.  What can I do for you?"

"We have a situation."

"What do you need?" Taylor answered, still a little sleepy.

"We have initiated a road-block on I 90 Westbound, at exit 16," Howard informed him.

"It will be rush hour in a few hours!  You need to wrap this up before then."  Sounding every bit the politician Taylor continued.  "I cannot have a major artery out of the city blocked at rush hour.  That is unacceptable."

Howard felt his blood pressure rise, but his voice remained calm, if slightly annoyed.  "We will do what we can."

"I'll have the governor on the phone with me in no time if you can't..."

Howard cut him off coldly.  "Would you prefer I call the governor?"

"No, Howard.  That won't be necessary.  Just make it quick."

Howard let the silence intimidate the secretary for a moment.

"How long do you need?" Secretary Taylor finally asked.

"We will need two hours to locate the suspects," Howard concluded.  "We will be gone by rush hour."

"Okay, push the necessary forms through and I will approve them,” Taylor instructed.

“I will have my staff submit them in the next hour,” Howard committed.

“If the road block is up too long the press will be asking questions," Taylor responded, still irritated.

"I'm sure you can take care of them," Howard implied.

"If needed Howard, I will make a few calls and make sure this is kept quiet."

"Please do so.  I know you were thinking of running for higher office in the fall.  It would be a shame if we could not provide you our full support."

"I have put together an exploratory committee to determine if I should run.  I want your full support Howard," Secretary Taylor said, not sure what dirt the TDRA could have on him, there were certainly many skeletons in his closet.  "We will keep this quiet."

Howard hung up abruptly.  He loathed local politics, and ambitious politicians, but appreciated his advantage.