Well, shit. “So what’s the thinking? Is he here for Ramadi, or is he one of his foot soldiers?” Depending on the answer, his guys could be in a whole lot more danger than they’d anticipated.
“Unclear. The individual never approached the cabin beyond the far tree line. He waited there for about twenty minutes, then left. Tracks seem to be leading northwest up the mountain but he’s gone to ground someplace because there’s no trace of him on satellite now and the wind’s already covering his tracks. We’re sending you the footage now.”
“Have there been any phone transmissions?”
“We’re digging deeper into that, but initial investigation shows none.”
So it was possible Ramadi was still unaware that they were coming for him.
Matt ended the call with the promise that he’d send his team in to investigate and carry out the intended op—capturing Ramadi—if he determined the area was secure enough to do so. While he wanted to nail the terrorist’s slippery ass, he wanted all his guys to go home safely even more. If repercussions came his way later because he made the call to abort the op, so be it.
He accessed the satellite footage and stood around the laptop to view the footage with other FBI agents assigned to the op. On screen he watched the feed showing a shadowy figure, visible only because of the man’s heat signature, ease into position among the tall pines thirty yards northwest of the target. With the trees blocking the satellite’s view it was impossible to tell what the guy was doing, or whether he was standing or kneeling.
Matt frowned as he watched the man, wondering what he was doing there. Scouting the cabin? Watching Ramadi through a high-powered scope, hoping for a shot? He fast-forwarded through the video. The man didn’t move from his position until the twenty-two minute mark. Then, as stealthily as he’d approached, he melted back into the trees and headed northwest away from the cabin.
One of the other agents looked at him. “They’re sure this guy’s no longer in the area?” she asked.
“That they know of.” Not exactly an answer that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, but this entire op was time sensitive and if he was going to pull the trigger on this one he had to do it soon. They had backup in the form of several SWAT teams, and helo crews waiting at a nearby airfield to transport them. If all went well, Matt wouldn’t need them. The fewer assets involved, the better. Less chance of a screw-up that way.
On the laptop he accessed the feed from the drone currently circling the vicinity, checked to make sure their unwanted guest wasn’t around, and tapped his earpiece again. “Tuck, the area’s clear. We need eyes and ears on site to verify the target’s inside.” Tuck was former Delta, and one of the best operators Matt had ever worked with. Every guy on the team was former military, most of them from tier-one units. They were the best in the business for a reason.
Tuck’s voice came back, calm and confident. “Copy that. Moving into position now.”
Matt watched their progress on screen, remotely zooming in the drone’s camera. While they began creeping up the hill he contacted his sniper teams and received confirmation that they were both able to cover the assault team, one from either side of the target. Neither sniper team had seen anyone leaving the area.
So we’re dealing with a fucking ghost? Matt almost snorted at the thought. He didn’t believe in ghosts, unless he counted the ones living inside him. Those were very real. But whoever this guy was, he was still out there, and likely close by.
He turned part way around at the sound of a vehicle’s tires crunching over the snow on the road behind him. A big SUV pulled to a sudden stop. The back doors opened and agents Greg Travers and Celida Morales approached at a brisk walk, dressed in their winter gear. Both were assigned to this case, and top agents within the agency’s domestic terrorism division.
“You heard?” he called out to them.
Travers nodded, headed straight for him. “Just. Your guys see anyone when they moved in?”
He shook his head. “Assault team’s about to get eyes and ears on the target.” He glanced at Celida. From beneath her hood the end of her dark ponytail whipped in the wind as she studied the screen before them. Watching her fiancé lead his team forward in the darkness. “Washington says the area’s secure,” he said to reassure her. And with all those trees between the cabin and their trespasser, the chances of a sniper shot on one of his guys was miniscule.
Celida flicked him a glance and nodded, her gaze going right back to Tuck at the head of the line of men moving up the snowy slope. “Think we’ll get lucky and Ramadi will really be in there right now?” she asked.