Black Flagged Apex

Chapter 23





8:59 PM

National Counterterrorism Center (NCTC)

McLean, Virginia



Ryan Sharpe removed his headset and stared at the main screen. The market operation had been a success, yielding three live suspects for background searches and interrogation. They also had thirteen dead True America militants, which they could identify and research. For an investigation that had essentially stalled earlier in the day, this would breathe new life into the search for the remaining virus canisters. He glanced up at Callie Stewart, who had chosen to watch the operation from the balcony above. She met his glance and nodded before walking into her office, presumably to report to her master.

Her team—Sanderson's team—had lost two of their undercover operatives in the attack. The two survivors had been rushed to the Brooklyn Hospital Center's Level II trauma center with multiple gunshot wounds. According to Damon Katsoulis, the mobile task force's tactical commander, Diyah Castillo had been listed in critical condition by EMTs. She had departed on the first ambulance to leave the scene, immediately followed by her team leader, Abraham Sayar, who was listed in serious condition. Two FBI agents had been wounded in the fierce gun battle, both of them hit by armor-piercing rounds fired at the snipers in the apartment. The bullets passed through the building's brick façade, striking a pair of headquarters agents as they entered the sniper's nest to provide additional firepower. Fortunately, the armor-piercing rounds had lost much of their velocity punching through centuries-old bricks and didn't penetrate the ceramic plate inserted in the lead agent's tactical vest. The round that struck the non-hardened ballistic material covering his right shoulder was another story. The "through and through" projectile lost some more velocity tearing through muscle and bone, but continued down the hallway undeterred, glancing off the second agent's head before finally lodging in a doorframe on the other side of the apartment. A few more millimeters to the right, and the bullet would have punctured her skull.

Katsoulis had arrived in one of the first vehicles to reach the market, but by the time they rushed through the front entrance, most of the battle was finished. After a brief exchange of gunfire that killed one of the suspects, the last standing True America commando surrendered. They found two more alive in the storeroom, bleeding through multiple wounds. Katsoulis said the inside of the market looked like a slaughterhouse. He had no idea how their undercover operatives had managed to survive a simultaneous, two-sided attack.

According to agents covering the back alley, at least seven heavily armed attackers emerged suddenly from one of the houses behind the market to breach the rear entrance. By the time the agents had assembled to respond as a group, the firefight inside the market had ended. The entire event had lasted roughly forty-five seconds and yielded a fresh start to their investigation.

He still didn't trust Sanderson any further than he could throw Hesterman's massive linebacker body, but he felt a debt of gratitude. Without Sanderson's involvement, they would still be scratching their heads, waiting for a warrant to enter the Imam's mosque. This thought made him wonder about the Imam's fate. Just as he felt his moral center start to wander, he remembered the dark side of Sanderson's involvement. Operating outside of the law always came with a hefty price tag. Sharpe knew this better than anyone.

He had distinctly crossed that line two years earlier, pitting Agent Edwards against Jessica Petrovich. Only a hefty dosage of sedatives and alcohol, presumably provided by Jessica against Edward's will, had saved Sharpe from answering some serious questions about his investigative methods. Luck had intervened, along with something else. Every record of the emails he had sent to Agent Edwards had disappeared. Agent O'Reilly had checked, knowing that the trail would lead back to both of them. She couldn't find a single trace of the emails anywhere.

There was only one possible explanation. The system had been hacked through Edward's computer. For obvious reasons, he couldn't push the issue, although a thorough risk assessment had been conducted on Edward's laptop. Standard procedure for a laptop that had been left "unattended" in the presence of a criminal suspect. The assessment hadn't uncovered a security breach, which further unnerved Sharpe. Why would Sanderson go out of his way to help him like that? Blackmail further down the line, or a sense of duty to protect the good guys? He couldn't begin to guess, let alone spend time worrying about it. Still, the seed had been planted, and every once in a while, it dominated his thoughts. Right now, he couldn't shake the feeling that Sanderson was pulling all the strings.

He patted O'Reilly on the shoulder and walked toward his office. All of their marching orders had been issued. They would start searching for commonalities between all sixteen True America operatives. Travel patterns, purchase history, friends, email, phone records…everything. Interrogation of the survivors would begin immediately. Agent Carlisle eagerly awaited their arrival at the Newark field office, though he would only have one customer tonight. The other two would need medical treatment and rest before they could be questioned.

He hoped they could turn up the heat on the prisoner at the field office. Collating and analyzing data for trends could take too long. He had no doubt it would yield valuable results, but he needed something now. Carlisle's interrogation tonight would be their best hope for moving things along quickly. Part of him wished they could divert the van carrying the prisoner to Sanderson's people. An even darker part of him hoped that this plan was already in the works. He knew Sanderson's people were capable of taking down a prisoner transport van without causing friendly casualties. They had done it before. He erased the thought as quickly as he had formed it, angry that he had even let it slip through his moral safeguards.