Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 03 - Snow Cone (18 page)

I expected Joe to faint or fall back onto the bed in despair, but he just nodded his head instead.

“I know,” he said softly.  “I found the same news article.  The first thing I looked at when we got to the cafe was the Nashville news.  I didn’t want to say anything.  I figured you guys had enough things on your plate.”

“That was mighty nice of you, Joe,”
Galveston smiled.  “Now you know why you can’t go to the safe house first.”

“I don’t care,” he answered quickly.  “Let them take me.  I can fight off the accusations with my lawyer.”

Galveston attempted to dissuade him, but Joe put up his hand to stop him.  “No further arguments.  I’m going, and I’m your employer so you have to listen.”

I was impressed with Joe’s sudden burst of bravado.  I really liked this guy, but I didn’t want him to get arrested.  His face told the story, however.  Joe wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.

“Alright, Joe.  You win,” Galveston conceded.  “Here’s how I want you to do it.”

Galveston
laid out the intricacies of the plan.    Browning may have been telling us the entire truth, but it was a chance we couldn’t take.  We were just being overly cautious.  This plan was our only way out of our current predicament.  We would scour the area for agents, and Joe would be the first to test the waters.  It was a decision that would haunt us.

-Chapter 29-

We exchanged clothing between us, matching different sets to stand out from one another.  Sally had a tougher time with it but was delighted when
Galveston offered her one of his shirts.  The glances between the two of them became annoying.  It reminded me of a teenager getting up the nerve to ask a girl to prom.

A clothing store across from the hotel had a few ugly coats and hats in their inventory that we used to disguise ourselves further.  We were a motley crew. 

We took two taxis to the location of the safe house, just as we had done from the airport.   I rode with Joe who appeared nervous but much more confident than he had been during our whole time together.  If nothing else, at least he would have a good story to tell when he got home.

Galveston
and Sally rode in the other taxi.  Galveston tried to use a lame excuse why he needed to ride with her.  I didn’t argue, maybe they would get these ridiculous crushes out of their system.

“Are you nervous?”
Galveston asked her as the taxi drove through the narrow streets of London.

“Not really.  You know, this is all rather exciting,” she replied, grabbing his arm.

Galveston smiled.  “I’ll make sure you’re safe.  Just keep scanning your surroundings.  If you see anything out of the ordinary, just let me know.”  She squeezed his arm tighter. 

“This reminds me of pranks we used to do in college,” Sally told him.

“I didn’t know kids could still get away with things nowadays,” he responded.

“Oh, that was so long ago.  I miss it.  I guess that’s why I went to work for Uncle Joe.” 

Galveston laughed.  “What?  A couple of years are considered long ago?”

She flashed him a confused look.  “Well, yeah.  Ten years is a long time ago.”

Galveston stopped laughing.  “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two, why?  How old are you?”

“That’s not important,” he deflected the question.  “Thirty-two.  I’m surprised.”

“I get that a lot.  I have a lot of spunk, I guess.”  She shrugged her shoulder
s.  “And I talk too much,” she whispered.

Galveston
didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t want to tell her he thought she was a fun, but immature, twenty-something.  In his mind this changed everything.  She had lived life enough to not drop him like a bad habit when the next cool guy came around.  It was the one rule that kept him from dating anyone under thirty.  A wide smiled crossed his face.

“What are you smirking at?” she inquired.

Galveston wasn’t about to let her know of his preconceived notions.  “Oh, nothing.  I’m just glad to be here with you.”

I didn’t realize there was a dating game taking place in the taxi behind me and Joe. 
Galveston’s love life was an ongoing soap opera, and even the most delicate of operations couldn’t get in its way.

The safe house was located in East London in the town of
Stratford.  I had the taxi driver stop a few blocks away from the address, just as Galveston had ordered.  Joe and I got out, and I surveyed the area.  It was quiet and a few high-rise buildings sat along the street.  The district was a mix of traditional English architecture spread amongst modern buildings.  I was immediately concerned about the many vantage points the tall buildings offered.

Galveston
‘s taxi pulled up to where Joe and I were standing.  Sally got out laughing followed by Galveston.  I was glad they were having such a joyous time together before we walked into a danger zone.  I noticed Galveston’s change in behavior.  I sighed, realizing Galveston was now pursuing the poor girl. 

“She’s thirty-two,” he whispered as he passed me.

“Huh,” I replied, not knowing what he was talking about until he reached for Sally’s arm in a playful manner.

“Oh, my God,” I thought to myself. 
Galveston couldn’t keep his hormones bottled up for more than a few days.  I prayed it wouldn’t interfere with our mission—whatever that was.

We split off into groups. 
Galveston had to pry himself from Sally since she was going to be my partner for the time being.  Joe gave Sally a hug, and walked away with Galveston.  She appeared dejected to be saddled with me; it was a giant boost to my self-esteem.

We walked in opposite directions, scanning our surroundings for anything peculiar.  We planned to report any suspicious activity over our two-way radios to alert the other pair. 

A rendezvous point had been set where we would meet again, along with an escape route and meeting point if things went awry.  I instructed Sally on what to look for as we walked along the street. 

“The main thing is not to be too obvious.  Just look bored all the time.  Look for anything that doesn’t fit, and if it catches your eye then it’s probably out of place,” I told her.  She nodded her head, and I could tell she was excited and nervous. 

Galveston had given us tasks to do while we surveyed the area.  Sally and I each had a map—just a couple of tourists out for a stroll.  Galveston and Joe each had a phone they would be fiddling with, as most people do these days.

I was skeptical we would see anyone suspicious.  The CIA’s whole job was to hide in the shadows.  They were the professionals, we were not.  But I remembered how angry
Galveston got when he was called an amateur.  I was certain we had been through more scrapes than most CIA agents had been in their lifetime.  The thought of being called an amateur made me bound and determined to find them hiding; if they were even there.

I looked at the
London map a few times between scans of the buildings.  I would then hand the map to Sally and say a few meaningless words.  Sally did an excellent job of looking bored, because I think she really was.  Her excitement had already faded.

We were steps away from the rendezvous point when I spotted a man reading a paper on a brick wall.  It was an odd place to sit, and it had an excellent vantage point down two different streets.  I watched him closely as we continued our walk.  The man checked his watch and then looked up from the paper.  I could see a phone on his lap, hidden behind his newspaper.

“This has to be an agent,” I thought.  I began to pull the radio from my pocket, but as we got closer, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before.  The man was wearing two different color socks and his shoes were well worn with holes in the top.  No CIA agent would be caught dead looking like this man.  

“Do you see anything
?” I asked Sally.

“Nothing.  Nothing at all,” she replied with disappointment.

“Good.  I think it’s clear.”

We walked into an alleyway across the street from the address to the safe house.  The house sat alone and had three stories.  It was plain but beautifully landscaped.  I thought it odd that a safe house would have such wonderful grounds.

I saw Galveston and Joe down the street opposite from us.  I fought the urge to wave and instructed Sally not to look in their direction.  Joe continued to walk down the sidewalk—this time alone.  He crossed the street carefully and moved toward the house.

I held my breath and motioned for Sally to move farther back into the alley and off of the main sidewalk. 
Galveston hid himself from sight behind a sign placard.

Joe walked slowly toward the door, his arms rigidly by his side.  He ascended the first of six steps leading to the doorway and stopped.  I thought he had lost his nerve, but instead he pulled down his hat.

Joe got to the top and reached out a shaking hand to push the doorbell.  He rang it and stepped back.  Moments passed before I saw the door crack open. 

A large man appeared at the door.  He was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants.  He stared at Joe intently but did not speak.

I could see Joe begin to speak, and the man’s face changed immediately.  He grew angry.  In an instant he pushed Joe back without warning and slammed the door.  Joe stumbled back and lost his footing on the top step.  I watched in horror as Joe fell backward down the steps to the sidewalk below.  He moved slowly to get up to his knees.

The doors to the building next to us swung open, and a group of men filed out.  I pushed Sally against the wall of the alley, out of view from the men streaming from the building.  I peeked around the corner and saw the uniforms of the London Police and tactical teams running across the street.

Galveston was unaware of what was going on.  He didn’t have a clear view like we did of the front of the building.  I made a subtle motion for him to get down.  Things had gone terribly wrong.

Another group of men appeared, running to the back of the house.  They were only a few feet away from
Galveston’s position when they passed, but they didn’t notice him hidden behind the large sign.

Joe was still on his knees and saw the men moving toward him.  He stayed where he was and didn’t move.

Just as the tactical team got to Joe, I heard a sound unlike any I had heard before.  A massive percussive wave of sound and air hit my body, and a bright orange glow erupted from the house.  The shock wave sent me to the ground, flat on my back.  A shower of debris and glass rained down from the sky, and I could feel the intensity of the heat given off by the enormous explosion.

My ears rang and the entire alleyway was spinning.  I turned onto my belly and saw Sally in the same position behind me.  She was bleeding from her arm where a shard of glass had struck her.  She looked at me with wide eyes, and I yelled at her to get back, but I couldn’t even hear my own words.

The fire from the explosion was consuming the building, and bodies of the tactical team and police were scattered about.  I spotted Joe lying on his side on the road.  His head was bleeding he had a piece of the building stuck in his side.  He wasn’t moving.

Sally was dizzy and in shock.  She tried to run to him, but I held her back.  There was nothing she could do.  I looked down the road;
Galveston was no longer where he had been. 

My hearing began to return, and I wished that it hadn’t.  The sound of screams and groans filled the air.  Bodies of men were scattered between the blown wreckage of the building, and the fire crackled loudly as it consumed the rest of the house.

I heard the wail of sirens from off in the distance.  “At least help is on the way,” I thought.

I dragged Sally farther back into the alley.  She was crying hysterically.  I pulled her close to me and examined the wound on her arm.  It was bleeding, but fortunately the cut wasn’t deep.  I tore off a piece of my clothing and applied a tourniquet around the laceration.

“Sally,” I yelled.  Her hearing had not yet fully returned.  “Sally, we have to go.  We can’t help him now.”  She didn’t respond and continued to cry from the shock of what had just happened.

It was imperative that we get to our alternate meeting point.  There was nothing left for us to do at the scene except get arrested.  I grabbed Sally’s hand and led her out of the alley and away from the carnage.  I turned back to give one last glance if
Galveston was still in his hiding spot.  When I did, I noticed a man walking past the alley’s entrance.

“Sally, wait here,” I ordered.  “Don’t move until I get back.  Do you understand?”

She wiped away a few of her tears and nodded her head.

I walked back to the entrance of the alley cautiously.  Before I could peek around the corner I saw the man I recognized passing by the alley.  It was Mayfield.  He was walking carefully amongst the still burning remains of the building.  I watched as he got to Joe and knelt down beside him.  Joe was still in the same position and not moving.  Mayfield looked at his face and then got up.  He spoke into a radio and moved away from Joe.  He walked to some of the other men laying on the ground and did the same thing.  I continued to watch him until he moved out of sight.

I returned to Sally who was now sitting on the ground with her face in her hands.  I pulled her up under her arm, and we walked out the other side of the alley.

I avoided the crowds that were now rushing to the scene and located the park at an intersection where
Galveston was supposed to be in case things went wrong.  Things had definitely gone awry.

I placed Sally on a bench in the park and prayed
Galveston would be joining us soon.  After ten minutes of waiting, I saw him and breathed a sigh of relief.  He had been shielded from the blast by the sign he was hiding behind and escaped without a scratch.  But he had to take a longer route to get to us to avoid the massive police presence that was closing in on the area. 

“Are you okay?” he asked as he approached.

“Yeah, I think,” I responded as Galveston put a hand on my shoulder.

“What about Joe?” he asked in a whisper.

I simply shook my head.

Galveston
sat down next to Sally and put his arm around her.  She put her head on his chest and sobbed.

I didn’t know what to say, and we didn’t know what to do.  We never had intended things to turn out like this.

Galveston continued to hold Sally close.  I bent down and whispered in his ear.  “I saw Mayfield.  He went over to Joe and then called on his radio.  He was there the whole time.”