+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
"All about growing pains Life will pound away Where the light don't shine, son." Maynard J. Keenan, Momma Sed
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**picture: Pilatus PC12 flying over Boston
Sun had just risen when the team boarded the Pilatus at Logan Airport. Gillian sat at the first row, opposite Aldana; Ron and Hank sat across the aisle. Kurt, barely awake, dragged his feet to the last seat and crumbled down there. A moment later he was asleep. Fred sat alone behind Ron.
Hearing Kurt's snores, Gillian called Tanya, hating to wake her up so early when she'd stayed up working way past midnight-while Kurt surely enjoyed a fantastic campaign with his online buddies, not a care in the world. Meanwhile, Aldana started her computer on the side table and connected to the jet's satellite Wi-Fi. As soon as they took off, Fred went straight to the coffee machine by the toilet, behind Gillian's seat.
Gillian glanced out her window as the plane climbed through the clouds to the west. As if running away from the light. Running to drown in the shadows that would hide any questionable action. Like those filling her head.
Tanya called them back over Skype from the breakfast bar in Gillian's kitchen. She looked tired but wide awake and ready. And about to have one hell of a breakfast that Connor cooked just a couple of steps away.
As usual, the girl had an avalanche of information for them, and she didn't wait for their questions. "Chief Fine will be waiting for you at the station, downtown. Last night they gave me access to their traffic feeds and I caught the vandals. No clear shot of their faces, but at least I got their plate."
She showed them on screen the caption of three men crossing the street from the mosque to a car, their faces barely visible under their hoodies.
Fred came with two mugs of coffee. He gave one to Gillian and rested against Ron's seat. Ron and Hank looked up at him, expecting coffee for them too.
"What kind of flight attendant are you?" said Ron. "No legs, no collar, no coffee. Nothing but that hippie stubble."
Fred arched his eyebrows, thumb pointing over his shoulder to the coffee machine. One of Kurt's snores seemed to underline his suggestion. Gillian and Aldana ignored them.
"What about the car?" asked Aldana.
"It's registered to one Sebastian Cox. His home address is Fess and Pontiac."
Gillian opened a map of the city on her tablet to look for the address. "That's west of downtown, right?"
"Yep. In Lane-Wooster."
Fred leaned forward, frowning. "Hey, T, show me that caption again, please."
Aldana handed him her tablet with the picture on screen.
"Anything we need to know about the area or the city?" asked Gillian.
"I remember reading things are a little edgy," said Ron. "Their crime rates are not Cleveland-high, but anyway high for their population."
Connor turned to the computer, moving a pan over the fire. "Twenty-six percent of the population below poverty. Over three thousand lost their jobs this year alone. The average income is below the national numbers."
"And they had three mayors this year alone," said Tanya.
Gillian nodded. They'd done their homework, as usual.
"Sounds like a reality show-Mayor for a Week," said Hank.
"You're fired," said Tanya.
"Not funny," grunted Ron. "So not exactly Disneyland. Maybe that's why they came here to stay off the grid."
"I've seen this man," said Fred then. He turned Aldana's tablet for Tanya to see the one he pointed. "He was at the compound."
Gillian and Aldana looked up at him.
He went on, now talking to Ron. "The bunch hunting Brockner down. He led those who stayed at the foot of the hill."
"Oh, you mean those who almost killed me?"
"Yep."
"This one?" asked Tanya from the computer, showing them another picture on screen.
They saw a smiling young man outdoors under a bright sun, wearing desert fatigues, an M16 in his hands and military tags hanging from his reddened neck.
Ron nodded. "Yeah. That's the son of a bitch. He's a hell of a shot, I gotta give'im that. He missed my head for an inch."
"He goes by Lt. Bass Silver in the militia," Tanya said. "Looks like he's besties with one of the captains, and he's got several photos with Kreuz." She showed them another picture, almost the same as the first one. On this one, the young man had his arms around the shoulders of two others. "Captain Victor Gold on your left, General Kreuz on your right."
Gillian managed to keep her normal tone. "That's Captain Victor?"
"Yep."
She kept her eyes on the photograph to carve that face in her memory. The face of one of the men who'd beaten and injured Russell and Brock almost to death. Gillian's look slid down to her map of Akron, turned into a glare that could've set a whole neighborhood on fire.
Ron noticed how her face darkened. "What is it, Reg?"
She just shook her head.
Fred gave the tablet back to Aldana. "I think you just got an email," he said.
She checked her inbox and said, "Reg, it's Detective Moore with the Akron PD. They're just back from Cox's address. Want me to call them?"
"Yes, please." Gillian sensed Fred observed her like that night back at Portland's hospital. But she pretended not to notice and focused on Detective Moore, a nice African American woman in her thirties. Gillian introduced her to the team and asked, "Did you find anything, Detective?"
"Not much. The house would look vacant if the car and two pickup trucks weren't parked on the driveway. Closed windows, mailbox full of old bills, the lawn could use a mowing. But it's early. My guess is they're still sleeping."
Gillian tried to ignore Hank's look, full of reproach. She failed.
Detective Moore went on. "We sneaked into their backyard and took a look at the garbage. It's new, mostly empty bottles and cans. And boxes from a takeout delivery a few streets away."
"Nice catch, Detective. Did you leave a watch on the house?"
"Yes, and I sent officers to the delivery, to wait for it to open. I'll be here at the station, waiting for you and your team, to take you to the house whenever you want."
"That'll be in two hours."
"Good. Have a safe flight, Agent Gillian."
Hank hardly waited for them to end the call. "Really? The delivery-boy ruse? Can we be any more obvious?"
Gillian shot a death glare at him. Hank had always been a fair match for her morning mood. And so early on a Saturday, he was at his prime-a siren calling out her homicidal side. "Get Kurt," she growled.
Hank huffed, but stood up and grumbled between the seats toward Kurt. "The delivery boy! What if they watch something other than porn? Even the most dummy TV shows use that ruse!"
Fred, Ron and Aldana scoffed at the way Gillian rolled her eyes.
"And they sent a black woman to check on the house? Jeez! Tell me about having their head up their ass!"
