Since this was a solo incursion, and the only potential backup was several miles away, Peter knew he was all the protection the agent had. It was up to him to raise a warning if he saw anyone else on one of the screens. He had argued that this operation should have waited until an adequate team could have been put in place, but he had been outvoted.
"Agent Douglas knows what she's doing," Chercover had said.
"And we want to keep this low profile," Furuta added.
It wasn't the way Peter liked to run things, but he didn't have much of a choice. Perhaps if he had been the one to hire the agent, he could have pulled rank. But she was CIA, and part of the National Intelligence apparatus. That made her Chercover's responsibility. Peter's search team had been following another lead that had taken them north into Canada, and Chercover hadn't wanted to wait until they could return.
The only concessions Peter was able to get were to equip Douglas with the surveillance equipment they were now using to watch her movements, and to delay the incursion long enough so that Peter could send a small strike team up from D.C. to act as backup if necessary.
The image on monitor four stopped in front of a doorway.
"I think this is it," Agent Douglas said, her voice coming over the speaker. "Someone's tried to distress it, but it still looks out of place. Don't know if you noticed, but most of the other doors were wood. This one's metal."
Chercover glanced at Peter. "Locked?" he asked.
Peter raised the small microphone he was holding to his lips. "Is it locked?"
A hand shot into the frame and grabbed the knob. Agent Douglas tried to twist it, but it moved less than a quarter inch before stopping.
"Yes, locked," she said. "I think I should take a look at what's inside. Am I cleared?"
Peter looked at the two men. Without moving his gaze from the monitor, Chercover nodded once.
"You're cleared," Peter said into the mic. Then added unnecessarily, "Be careful."
Agent Douglas pulled out a lock pick set, then set to work on the keyhole. Peter glanced again to the other monitors, making sure she was still alone. His gaze lingered on the lobby shot displayed on monitor number two. It seemed as though something was different. A shadow perhaps, but everything was dark on darker, so there was no telling for sure.
"If it doesn't feel right, get the hell out of there," he said as he returned his attention to monitor four.
"I'm fine," she said, her tone displaying her displeasure at being interrupted.
After several seconds, she stopped what she was doing, then turned the knob again. This time it moved.
"Got it," she said. She stood up. "Okay. I'm going in."
"I'm not liking this," Peter said, both into the mic and to his two guests. If the door was hiding something important, it shouldn't have been this easy to open. "Something feels wrong. I'm sending the strike team over."
"It's fine," Agent Douglas said. "A strike team isn't trained to look for things the same way I am. They might unintentionally mess up something we need."
"My men are trained for all sorts of situations. They'll be okay."
"If she says she can handle it on her own, then we should let her," Chercover said. He leaned toward the microphone in Peter's hand. "Agent Douglas, do you feel you need assistance?"
"No, sir," Agent Douglas replied. "The first sign of a problem, I'll pull myself out."
"You may proceed then," Chercover said. He straightened back up and looked at Peter. "Your concern is noted, but this is a special circumstance."
"It's always a special circumstance," Peter said, knowing very well he'd used the same excuse himself several times in the past.
"Of course it is," Furuta said.
All three men watched as Agent Douglas pushed the door open. The room beyond showed up as pitch-black on the monitor. Whatever light there was filtering in from the hallway didn't make a dent in the abyss.
"Can you see anything?" Peter asked.
"Hold on," she said.
A few seconds later a bright light swept across
"Agent Douglas knows what she's doing," Chercover had said.
"And we want to keep this low profile," Furuta added.
It wasn't the way Peter liked to run things, but he didn't have much of a choice. Perhaps if he had been the one to hire the agent, he could have pulled rank. But she was CIA, and part of the National Intelligence apparatus. That made her Chercover's responsibility. Peter's search team had been following another lead that had taken them north into Canada, and Chercover hadn't wanted to wait until they could return.
The only concessions Peter was able to get were to equip Douglas with the surveillance equipment they were now using to watch her movements, and to delay the incursion long enough so that Peter could send a small strike team up from D.C. to act as backup if necessary.
The image on monitor four stopped in front of a doorway.
"I think this is it," Agent Douglas said, her voice coming over the speaker. "Someone's tried to distress it, but it still looks out of place. Don't know if you noticed, but most of the other doors were wood. This one's metal."
Chercover glanced at Peter. "Locked?" he asked.
Peter raised the small microphone he was holding to his lips. "Is it locked?"
A hand shot into the frame and grabbed the knob. Agent Douglas tried to twist it, but it moved less than a quarter inch before stopping.
"Yes, locked," she said. "I think I should take a look at what's inside. Am I cleared?"
Peter looked at the two men. Without moving his gaze from the monitor, Chercover nodded once.
"You're cleared," Peter said into the mic. Then added unnecessarily, "Be careful."
Agent Douglas pulled out a lock pick set, then set to work on the keyhole. Peter glanced again to the other monitors, making sure she was still alone. His gaze lingered on the lobby shot displayed on monitor number two. It seemed as though something was different. A shadow perhaps, but everything was dark on darker, so there was no telling for sure.
"If it doesn't feel right, get the hell out of there," he said as he returned his attention to monitor four.
"I'm fine," she said, her tone displaying her displeasure at being interrupted.
After several seconds, she stopped what she was doing, then turned the knob again. This time it moved.
"Got it," she said. She stood up. "Okay. I'm going in."
"I'm not liking this," Peter said, both into the mic and to his two guests. If the door was hiding something important, it shouldn't have been this easy to open. "Something feels wrong. I'm sending the strike team over."
"It's fine," Agent Douglas said. "A strike team isn't trained to look for things the same way I am. They might unintentionally mess up something we need."
"My men are trained for all sorts of situations. They'll be okay."
"If she says she can handle it on her own, then we should let her," Chercover said. He leaned toward the microphone in Peter's hand. "Agent Douglas, do you feel you need assistance?"
"No, sir," Agent Douglas replied. "The first sign of a problem, I'll pull myself out."
"You may proceed then," Chercover said. He straightened back up and looked at Peter. "Your concern is noted, but this is a special circumstance."
"It's always a special circumstance," Peter said, knowing very well he'd used the same excuse himself several times in the past.
"Of course it is," Furuta said.
All three men watched as Agent Douglas pushed the door open. The room beyond showed up as pitch-black on the monitor. Whatever light there was filtering in from the hallway didn't make a dent in the abyss.
"Can you see anything?" Peter asked.
"Hold on," she said.
A few seconds later a bright light swept across
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