Travis Starnes
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Designated Target - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2022-05-24 03:24:11 +0000 UTCIt took almost five hours to get everything he needed in place, partially because of travel time for Lopez, but also because he needed at least sixteen agents from the local office and five identical cars.
“I’m still not sure this is necessary,” Robert Dayoub, the local SAC who ran the New Jersey office, said as they rode the elevator down to the basement.
“I’m not saying your office has a leak, but we both know that shooter should have never gotten to Bartolini and I’m not taking any chances.”
“I get that and I’m not talking about the switch up. I mean not telling us where you’re going and putting him with someone from outside the agency. Hill is already climbing all over my ass because he couldn’t get a straight answer from you, and he wants me to find out where you’re taking Finney, in case we need to talk to him.”
“If you need him, I’ll make him available, but I was assigned to this by the Director of the FBI who got the go-ahead from the deputy AG. Since this office botched Bartolini, they’ve given me free rein on how to deal with Finney. If Hill doesn’t like it, he can call his boss.”
Taylor knew he was playing a little fast and loose with his instructions. Solomon had asked him to come down and keep Finney safe until trial, but he hadn’t said anything about giving Taylor ‘free rein’ and it was a safe bet if someone asked Solomon, he’d have been just as much against Taylor’s move as Hill was. For once though, the FBI’s culture of not wanting to be seen rocking the boat or upsetting their superiors was going to work for him. It was doubtful Hill would complain to the AG after they’d almost certainly torn into him about losing one witness.
Besides, once Finney was off the grid, it wouldn’t much matter what Hill wanted.
Getting out of the elevator into the cleared underground garage, Taylor was glad to see all five SUVs were there and were identical with the normal heavy tint most FBI vehicles sported, as promised. Next to four of the cars stood four agents, all roughly dressed alike in the standard suit and tie that marked them as a cop or federal agent to anyone that glanced at them. Unlike those men, and they’d all had to be men for Taylor’s plan to work, Lopez looked like a kid in his dad’s suit standing next to the fifth SUV. Like a lot of guys not long out of the service, he was more comfortable in PTs or his BDUs than a monkey suit. Taylor felt his pain, having changed into something similar before coming to meet with the guys he’d requested from the field office.
“So can you tell me what’s going on now?” Lopez asked when Taylor reached the SUV he was standing next to.
“Not yet,” Taylor said, not elaborating.
Lopez was used to this kind of answer and just nodded as Taylor continued walking up and down the vehicles, making sure the men and equipment matched what he’d requested.
Satisfied, Taylor gave the nod to Dayoub, who pulled a radio off his belt and said several words into it. A handful of minutes passed with all of the agents glancing back and forth at each other before the elevator dinged again, opening to reveal Robles and Finney.
Robles didn’t wait for any further signals and led Finney into the SUV Lopez was standing next to, putting him in the back seat and then sliding in to sit next to him.
“You men have all received your instructions. You are to head towards your specified destination taking the route you were given. We’ve checked and all of the routes are open. You aren’t to deviate from your route, no matter what. I don’t care if you have to plow through the scene of an accident, I don’t want you to stop. Once you get to your destination, you are to remain in the car until notified, and then you can head back to whatever we pulled you away from. Is that clear?”
Although he didn’t plan on telling anyone what he was actually doing, he’d asked for people that Dayoub trusted to at least follow the instructions. They all nodded their understanding and filed into their cars, while Taylor got into the driver’s seat of the vehicle Finney had been loaded into with Lopez and Robles.
“Three-card monte!” Robles said when he shut the door behind him. “This was your plan?”
“You can’t beat the classics. It’s the best I could come up with if someone is watching the building, waiting for Finney to leave. The agents were picked at random, weren’t told what they were doing until they got to the garage, and I picked this vehicle out of motor pool. It’s as good as I could do to make sure whoever fed the Amato’s Bartolini’s location couldn’t track us.”
“And where is that, exactly?” Robles asked as they pulled out of the garage between the third and fourth car in the column of SUVs.
“Joint Base McGuire.”
“Fort Dix?” Lopez said from the back seat, sounding surprised.
Taylor understood his apprehension. Lopez had been dishonorably discharged from the army over something that wasn’t his fault, so it was only natural he wouldn’t be crazy about going back to an army base.
“It’ll be okay. I’ve worked it out. You aren’t even signing in at the gate. They’re going to whisk us through and put you and Finney up in an isolated barracks. Once there, neither of you are to leave the building for any reason. Food will be delivered to you and there will be a guard on the door, but aside from my guy, no one will know who’s inside. All you have to do is make sure he stays in the building and safe.”
“What am I supposed to do in an army barracks?” Finney asked, annoyed and angry.
“I could give a shit,” Taylor said. “Maybe this will teach you why you shouldn’t get in bed with those people. You get bored, just remember what happened to your buddy Bartolini.”
“He wasn’t my buddy,” Finney said, although with a lot less fire.
“You two worked for the same crooks. And don’t go telling me you didn’t know what was going on, because if you didn’t you wouldn’t have testimony to give. You knew who you were dealing with and only came forward when it was obvious they were going to have you killed. So shut up.”
Finney looked like he wanted to argue, but seeing he was outnumbered by three men who didn’t particularly like him, he did the smart thing and looked out the window instead.
***
Chenier was waiting for them at the gate as promised, having Taylor follow an MP jeep he had standing by, which led them to a small officers’ barracks a little separated from the rest. It was a pretty good spot and had almost certainly been occupied before Taylor called Chenier, but that was the life of a soldier and Taylor didn’t feel bad.
“I don’t know how long I can keep him here and a guard on the door,” Chenier said after Lopez and Finney had been hustled inside.
“Like I said, all I need is a week or so. By then, either I’ll have found the shooter, or the shooter will have gotten to Finney.”
“Not on an army base he won’t,” Chenier said.
“Hopefully. It’s why I wanted to stash him here. But this guy is good, so I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Well then find him quickly, so you can get these two out of here.”
“I’ll do my best,” Taylor said, giving the CID officer a nod as he stepped away, back towards the MP jeep.
“So what’s next?” Robles asked.
“We go see the Amato brothers.”
“Seriously? Don’t you think they’ve been interviewed already? These guys never talk.”
“I’m not trying to get them to talk. I just want to stir the pot a little and see what comes out.”
“Is this how you and Whitaker normally handle investigations? Stirring the pot and seeing what happens?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Taylor said, walking back to the car, leaving Robles to follow in his wake.
The Amato brothers shared a small mansion in West Windsor, an upscale suburb to the north of Trenton. Although an upscale area of the state, their mansion was notable both for how large it was compared to the pricey but not huge homes nearby and the very large wall that separated it from the rest of the community.
The person who answered the speaker at the entrance to the gated driveway didn’t sound particularly surprised or impressed when Taylor introduced himself as an FBI agent, but let him in any-way when he asked to see the brothers. Even before the pace of investigation into them increased, the brothers would have been regularly visited by both federal agents and local officers, so this was just routine for them.
The driveway led to a large circular area in front of the house with a gaudy fountain in the center. Taylor had heard of people with more money than taste, but this place took the prize for how over the top it was. The neighbors were probably happy about the giant wall, since it hid the rest of the eyesore from sight.
A man was already waiting for them by the front door when their car pulled up.
“I’m Philip Jennings, the Amato family lawyer,” the man said after Taylor and Robles parked and got out of the SUV. “We weren’t notified of the need for my clients to interview with law enforcement today. I’m sure if you’d call my office, we can schedule an interview with either or both of my clients for a time convenient for everyone.”
“This won’t take long. I just have a couple of questions for your clients,” Taylor said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. I thought I’d met everyone from the local office.”
“I’m agent Taylor and this is agent Robles,” Taylor said, not offering any additional information.
Unfortunately, he’d managed to end up in the newspaper several times over the last few years because of cases he’d worked on. Normally, it was better if no one knew him, since they tended to underestimate him as just another federal agent, but that was becoming less common the more times his face showed up on the news. He’d begun to recognize the moment when someone would realize where they knew his name from, and dreaded it.
“Ohh, I do know who you are after all. I’m surprised the Bureau would send someone of your stature on a pointless errand such as this.”
“I think you might be overestimating my place in the Bureau. This is exactly the kind of thing they send me to do. Now, can we see your clients or should we make this more official by taking them back to Trenton to be questioned?”
“There’s no need for hostility, Mr. Taylor. I was just trying to gauge what your interest in my clients is. They are, of course, always happy to cooperate with law enforcement and would be happy to speak with you.”
Taylor doubted they’d be happy with anything of the sort, but since making them unhappy was the entire point of this visit, Taylor wasn’t going to complain. The lawyer led them down a large, marble-floored hallway past more tacky decorations, into a huge dining room where two overweight men were sitting at a comically large table, eating comically full plates of food. Taylor was a little taken aback by the entire scene. It was as if these two had watched every terrible gangster movie from the past twenty years and built their whole esthetic around it.
“I thought you were going to get rid of them,” the man who matched the picture of Dominic Amato said as he shoveled more food into his face.
“This is Agent John Taylor and Agent Robles. They work out of Washington and were sent up here to ask some questions. Agent Taylor is the man who saved the president on election night last year,” Jennings said, his tone clearly hoping to tell them this wasn’t just a routine visit.
It wasn’t particularly subtle, but Taylor doubted anything subtle would get through either of these guys’ heads. How they’d risen to the top of a crime family, even a smaller one, was a complete mystery to Taylor. At first blush, neither seemed to have what it took to be in charge of an\ything, let alone a complex criminal enterprise.
“Yeah, I think I remember hearing about that. So, I guess we pissed off someone big this time,” Torrance Amato said.
“Killing a federal witness will do that,” Robles pointed out.
“Did we do that? I don’t think we did that. Dom, do you remember killing a federal witness?”
“Nope,” his brother said, leaning back and matching Torrance’s smile. “I didn’t kill nobody.”
“I guess you just got lucky someone shot your old enforcer just before he was set to testify against you,” Taylor pointed out.
“What can I say,” Torrance said. “We’re lucky guys. But seriously, Angelo whacked a lot of people over the years, purely for himself, mind you, so he had a lot of enemies. Have you thought about maybe checking the families of the people he killed? Maybe they shot him.”
“We appreciate the tip,” Robles said, deadpan.
“It’s more likely you two ordered his death. He was about to testify against you, after all.”
“I can assure you that neither of my clients were involved in any attempt on Mr. Bartolini’s life, or in any other criminal enterprises. Something we look forward to proving in a court of law.”
“Ha, what he said,” Dominic added, some chicken falling out of the side of his mouth as he spoke. “Besides, we were out of town when he was offed. We just got back yesterday, so how would we have had anyone whacked? I mean, you guys have our phones bugged, our cars bugged, hell, I’m pretty sure you’ve even got my mistress bugged.”
The brothers cackled at that. Taylor assumed it was either an inside joke or they were both equally stupid and found the smallest things funny.
“Clever guys like yourselves, I’m sure you could have found a way around that.”
“Yeah, right. Good try, Agent Taylor, but we didn’t have nothin’ to do with it. Like Phil said, we’re gonna prove it in court.” Torrance said.
“I believe my clients have answered the questions they are willing to answer, as these questions have already been asked by other agents after Mr. Bartolini’s death. Unless you have any new questions for my clients, I have to ask you to leave. Otherwise, this is beginning to veer into the realm of harassment.”
“No, we don’t have any more questions. Now that I’ve met them, I’m pretty sure neither of your clients are smart enough to pull something like this off,” Taylor said.
“Agent Taylor, I think …” Jennings started to say, before being interrupted by Dominic.
“It’s all right, Phil. I like him. He’s funnier than those other guys the feds sent over. Listen Agent Taylor, you guys have been trying to pin stuff like this on us for years. It didn’t stick then, and it won’t stick now. So why don’t you go back to Washington and find something useful to do.”
“I must insist it’s time for you to leave. Otherwise, I will be filing a complaint with the Department of Justice over this harassment,” Jennings said, practically pushing them through the door and back out into the marbled hallway.
“Well that was a bust,” Robles said as they walked through the front door back out to their vehicle.
“Not really. It at least gave us somewhere to start looking.”
“Where? All they did was give us an alibi and hustle us out. These guys have been through this before. I seriously doubt we’re going to find phone records from them to the hitman.”
“Dominic got too clever for his own good,” Taylor said, getting back into the car. “You heard him. He said we’re always trying to pin killings on him. What if he meant, we’re always trying to pin hits he ordered back on him. He’s dumb enough to say something like that. I’m betting he’s used this hitman before.”
“So? Of course he has. These two have been connected to more than a dozen murders, that we know about. It doesn’t mean it’s going to go back to this one hitman. They’ve probably used a lot of people to do their dirty work.”
“Yeah, but this wasn’t some mob wannabe trying to make a name for himself. This guy’s a pro. He made a precision shot from a fairly impressive distance. We’re not just looking for hits, we’re looking for something that would require skill. We need to look at any murders connected to them that are more than just an ordinary drive-by, or deaths in their circle that weren’t necessarily murders, but might have been a little too convenient for them. If this guy is a professional killer, I’m willing to bet precision shooting isn’t the only thing he’s good at.”
“That doesn’t mean they would have worked with him before. Killing a witness while they’re in federal protection would be something I’d want someone unconnected to me to do.”
“You’re smarter than these two guys. Besides, someone with this level of skill doesn’t just advertise in the phone book. They were right when they said we were on all of their phones. Calling around and meeting with someone like this, especially when they’re under heightened scrutiny, would have been a tall order. They also couldn’t afford to take a chance of someone they didn’t know. If they missed Bartolini, they had to know we’d increase security around him. They needed to be sure they wouldn’t miss. No, I’m betting they already knew him and knew he could pull it off.”
“So this is how you and Whitaker do it? Just wild ass guesses?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Taylor said as they drove out of the gated complex, back towards Trenton.
Comments
D.J. Clarke
an\ything
Idaho Spud56
Good chapter.
