“Does that mean you’re going and playing Spider-Man?”
“Without the tights.”
Claire laughed.
“Milo Gusev does have links to the Sobol family, though he is not blood. Gusev has a lot of nephews. They come to America for a semester abroad. Last year he housed Ivan Zahbin during his junior year. The year before that was a niece. He has been on ‘guardian of a minor’ papers at Bremerton for the third year in a row.”
Jax had stopped typing and looked at Claire. “That would make sense of how Russell reacted today. I finally intercepted him in the parking lot. He didn’t have a single interest in my fake ID. Suggested I call Milo, which I did. But he didn’t answer.”
“Does Russell know what’s going on?” Cooper asked.
“He knows about the fake IDs, but beyond that? Who knows? He can’t be completely oblivious,” Jax reported.
“But he’s seventeen. A minor, and Milo is harboring that age group.” Lars had a point.
“What about Tony’s car?” Claire asked, having heard more about that when she’d talked to Cooper on her way home from school.
“Registered to Tony Mazzeo. The car was bought a little over a year ago. Right at the time Tony was a senior at Auburn High. The registered address is an apartment complex. Since the name on the mailbox is Chen, he has either since moved, or he was never there. Which would line up with him being an undercover cop,” Cooper told them.
“So we have two undercover cops. One working the teacher level, Eastman, and one working the student level, Tony. Boy, doesn’t that sound familiar.” Claire summarized the situation as she saw it. “I wish we could flush one of them out.”
“We’re not flushing anything until the feds are there and everyone is in custody. One leak before we’re ready to roll and someone in the chain gets a tip . . .” Neil didn’t have to finish his sentence. They all understood the consequences.
“Jax and I will get this road map figured out, send pictures before the night is over. Tomorrow we’ll need surveillance at Jax’s decoy apartment. We’ve invited Elsie and Ally over for an algebra lesson. Make a last attempt to find any connection we’re not seeing.”
“We’re out, then. And, ladies, all audio and video is live until this is over.”
Claire looked around the room, knew exactly where all the microphones were. “That’s fine.”
“Be safe,” Jax said.
“Let us know when you’re clear.” Claire couldn’t help but worry. And when they disconnected the call, Cooper had already sent a text. Spider-Man never gets caught with his mask down.
There were parts of Cooper’s job he didn’t get to exercise nearly enough. As he put on black utility pants, protective armor, and a field jacket before he started tucking everything he thought he’d need for the job, he felt his excitement grow. Neil and Sasha geared up in the same way. Neil was taking a position on the outside, and he and Sasha were going in.
The three of them got in the van along with Lars, and Isaac took the wheel.
Back at headquarters, Manuel and Rick were on the monitors.
Nothing in the strip mall was open twenty-four hours, which made their job a little less complicated. Not that they’d be walking in the front door.
Their plan had been mapped out and time stamped. Get in, find out what they’re hiding in the place, plant a bug of their own, and get out. And more importantly . . . leave no trace.
Cooper popped a stick of gum in his mouth, found the repetition of chewing something calmed his nerves.
It was almost one in the morning. The storefront had been empty since nine. The adjacent business had been closed since eleven. They had done a thorough head count in all locations, coming and going, since Cooper and Claire returned from Seattle. The lights were off and nobody was home.
As they got closer, they secured their headgear.
The chewing gum started to lose its flavor, so Cooper tapped his fingers on his knees.
“Must you?” Sasha asked.
Cooper gave her his best smile.
“You know, you’re still a really hot older sister.” He’d told her that once before, and lived to tell the tale.
Neil stayed silent.
“Don’t make me remove your balls now that Claire has become so fond of them.”
Cooper lifted his eyebrows, chewed his gum a little louder.
“Three minutes,” Isaac said from the front seat.
The three of them put the face coverings over their features.
Cooper pulled the wrapper out of his pocket, shoved the gum inside. “Save this for later,” he said, putting it in front of Lars, who sat at the computer board.
“Neil.” Isaac slowed the van to a stop and Neil jumped out.
“For a big guy, he sure is silent,” Cooper mused aloud.
Isaac did a drive-by. “Be ready.”
Cooper’s hand was on the back door.
“Three, two, one.”
Their feet were barely on the ground and the van was off.
“Radio check.” Lars’s voice sounded in his ear.
“This is one, in position,” which meant that Neil had already climbed onto an adjacent building with a weapon at the ready should he need it.
“Two,” Sasha said next. “One minute to position.” She was halfway up a drain spout.
“Three.” Cooper waited at the back door.
“Headquarters. Everything is clear.” It was always good to hear Rick’s voice.
“Four,” Lars said from the van. “Waiting on your cue.”
Cooper looked at his watch, finger poised.
“Go,” he heard Sasha say.
Cooper pressed the stopwatch when the power on the entire block went out.
He put on his night-vision goggles and waited.
Sasha was small enough to get into the access point on the roof. All Cooper had to do was wait for her to unlock the deadbolt on the back door.
It took her ninety seconds.
Inside, Sasha disabled the battery backup on the alarm system while Cooper scanned the main business area. He moved to the back of the building, where if there was anything to find, chances were it would be there.
There were two doors past a small storage room.
Boxes of mail filled the crowded space. Locks that took only seconds to pick. Sasha moved into that room while Cooper breached the other.
The room was about ten by eight. There was a table shoved to one side, some kind of printer on top. “Are you getting that?” Cooper asked the team.
“Crystal clear.”
Sasha tapped him on the back.
Someone on the team made a sound.
Cooper turned around and looked at the wall filled with pegboard.
He moved closer to find dozens of pictures. Some passport-photo size and quality, some were random shots. Each picture had an envelope next to it with more copies of the photographs inside.
Sasha pointed to the left and made a sweeping motion down.
“We see it,” Lars said.
And now, so did Cooper. The groupings of pictures were categorized. Blondes, Caucasian. Their age, height, and weight written on the corner of the picture. Next category, brunettes. Next category, Asian, Hispanic, African American, and so on, all girls and all under the age of nineteen. On the far right was a limited number of boys.