Foreign Influence_ A Thriller - Brad Thor [78]
“Brilliant Israeli military technology.”
Davidson looked at it. “Then how come it says Remington on the side?”
“Because they licensed it for the U.S., but couldn’t get it off the ground. I bought this sample kit from the rep.”
“How does it work?” asked Vaughan. “You just drop these where you want them?”
“Better than that. You can actually throw them. When they stop rolling, they right themselves on those little stubby feet on the bottom. You can toss them on a roof, over a wall, anywhere.”
“And those are fiber-optic cameras in the other box?”
Levy nodded. “If you’ve got balls big enough to get close to the door or drill down from the ceiling, then we’ll really get a good view inside.”
“What are the baby wipes for?”
“You should see how dirty this stuff gets,” he said as he pulled another one of the camera balls out of its case.
As he did, Davidson jabbed Vaughan in the ribs and raised his eyebrows as if to say, See?
Vaughan waved him off. All he saw was a guy who was particular about how he ate his yogurt and who liked to keep his gear clean. Big deal. In fact, he’d take Josh Levy over most of the sloppy cops he’d been forced to sit through stakeouts with.
“If we can drop a couple of those in the alley behind the building, will you be able to pick up the signal out here?”
“I should.”
“Will they work okay in low light?”
“They’ve got an IR illuminator, but it puts an extra drain on the batteries. We won’t be able to run them all night.”
“Hopefully, we won’t have to.”
Davidson used the cameras mounted outside the van to check for foot traffic along the street. They were in a small honor-system parking lot where you placed your money in a slot on a big board beneath the number that corresponded to what stall you were in. Levy had picked the lot himself, preferring it to being parked out on the street. The view wasn’t as good, but it was acceptable. It was his opinion that a windowless van parked too near the mosque might draw undue attention to itself. Vaughan had agreed.
“How do you want to do this?” asked Davidson.
“We’ve got your Bronco parked around the corner,” replied Vaughan. “From this distance, I don’t think anyone is going to notice us getting out of the van.
“I’ll stay here and monitor the feeds while you take Josh with you. He’ll ride shotgun and can drop three balls. One at the beginning of the alley, one near the back door of the target building, and one before you turn back out onto the street.”
Levy shook his head. “I don’t leave the van.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.”
Vaughan looked at Davidson for some sort of explanation but the Public Vehicles officer just looked back at him and smiled as if to say, I told you so.
He turned back to Levy. “How are we going to know if we got the balls placed correctly?”
The PI pulled a radio from a charger rack and handed it to Vaughan. “It’s not rocket science. You roll down the window and drop them out. I’ll radio you and let you know how the picture looks.”
“What if I screw it up and one of them rolls underneath a Dumpster?”
“Don’t screw it up.”
Satisfied that the argument was settled, Levy unzipped the gym bag hanging from the arm of his chair and removed a small hand towel. Unrolling it across his lap, he fished his key ring from his pocket.
“That’s good enough for me,” said Davidson, taking the radio from Vaughan, suddenly anxious to leave. “Let’s get going.”
Hanging from Levy’s key ring was a gold nail clipper. The PI pivoted open the handle and studied his nails.
“The street’s as quiet as it’s going to get,” said Davidson as Vaughan watched Levy. “Let’s get this done before evening prayers are over with.” He poked the Organized Crime cop with the radio’s antenna, breaking the spell and getting his attention.
“Make sure to do a radio check when you get to your truck,” stated Levy as the two men parted the heavy blackout curtain and exited the van through its back door.
Cutting through the