Operation Hell Gate - Marc Cerasini [68]
Griff topped a small rise, and The Last Celt was in sight. Luck was with him — he spied an empty spot on the corner, right in front of the pub. As he parked, he calmed down a bit. Most likely Shamus got royally flustered and had simply slept in. He'd be hungover this morning, but after coffee, food, and a bitch slap from his elder bro, Shamus would be up to the task at hand — and not so crazy over Caitlin's melt that he'd balk when the time came to say adieu. Griff would off the ninny and her brother himself if it came to that.
Griff exited the car and crossed the sidewalk. He halted mid-stride when he saw the splintered wood on the pub's door. Reaching into his linen sport coat, Griff eased the 9mm Beretta out of its shoulder holster before he touched the knob. No surprise the door was unlocked. Griff pushed through it and slipped inside. In the tavern's dim interior he saw toppled tables, overturned chairs, the phone ripped out of the wall.
Griff found Shamus upstairs a few minutes later, on the floor of Caitlin's shabby digs. He ripped the tape away from his brother's mouth, untied his hands and legs, and dashed cold water in his face. Shamus moaned, then reached for his head. Suddenly he opened his eyes, focused on his brother, bolted upright. "Where's that bleedin' CTU agent?"
Griff scowled. "What CTU agent?"
"He took her away at gunpoint."
"Who, Caitlin?"
Shamus nodded. "He forced her. Made her go with him."
Griff wasn't so sure. "What about the attache case?"
"Liam took off with it." Shamus glanced at his watch. "Taj should be holding the damned thing by now."
"We'll have to clean up this mess," said Griff. "Caitlin and her brother are liabilities now. So is Donnie. Before this day is over, everyone we ever did business with in the States — everyone who knew us here — must be permanently silenced."
Shamus looked away, said nothing. Then they both heard a noise from downstairs in the pub. Tables and chairs being moved, then someone cursed. Shamus spoke. "It's Donnie. He'll be real cheesed about the mess."
"Shut up and wait here," snarled Griff. He led with his gun as he silently glided down the stairs.
* * *
9:31:21 A.M. EDT
CTU Headquarters, Los Angeles
Crisis Management Team Alpha, formerly the Crisis Management Team, met in the main conference room at the behest of Ryan Chappelle, who wanted to be brought up to speed on the latest developments.
Ryan was surprised when Nina Myers arrived — late — and informed him that a second Threat Clock and Crisis Management Team Beta had been established. When Nina closed the door to officially begin the conference, Ryan blinked in surprise. "This is everyone?"
The only other person at the conference table was Doris Soo Min, who rocked nervously in her chair and played with the cover of the laptop computer on the table in front of her.
Nina brushed her short dark hair away from her face, sank into a chair. "Milo Pressman is in the field, supervising the Cyber Unit at Green Dragon in Little Tokyo. Tony and Captain Schneider are interrogating a prisoner in holding room three. And I've excused Jamey from the meeting because I've asked her to follow up on a new lead."
Ryan sighed theatrically. "Then why am I here, Nina?"
Because you called the meeting instead of taking the trouble to read the hourly logs, Nina thought. She said something else. "Actually, Miss Soo Min has had something of a breakthrough."
"I thought the memory stick had been pretty much decrypted and mined."
Nina shook her head. "Did you know that Doris found a time code encrypted within the aircraft recognition program?"
"I'm aware of it now."
Chappelle swung his office chair to face the young woman. He fixed her with his best managerial gaze. "So, tell me what you found, Doris..."
Doris cleared her throat, tapped the computer keyboard. In the center of the conference table, the square block of HDTV monitors sprang to life.
"Along with the time code there was also a