Chapter 5
Ashlyn was in her apartment, getting ready for tonight. Five days had passed since she had taken out the mafia guys outside of Salvatore’s, and tonight, she was going out again. She mused to herself about how ‘getting ready’ meant something so much different for her than it probably did for every other woman who was getting ready in her building right now. She had assembled and dismantled her rifle twice in the last hour, checking every last piece, then packed it in her soft over-the-shoulder rifle case, along with some ammo, a grey long sleeve button down shirt, a pair of black leather pants, a black leather vest, and a dark grey fedora hat. She had donned her all-black tactical outfit and stuffed the 9MM in a holster at her side. Her tactical knife went into a sheath near her right ankle. She sat down at her computer desk. Two more hours, then I leave. A thought crossed her mind, and she fired up her laptop. It was a thought that had crossed her mind many times in the last week: Special Agent Ali Krieger. Special Agent Beautiful. She found the JOCT website, then brought up a separate hackers screen, entered a bunch of code, and she was in.
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Ali and Megan were sitting in Ali’s office when Hope walked in. “What do you know, guys?” she asked. It was 10pm. Another late night.
“A couple things”, Ali said. She had filled in Hope on her thoughts about the Salvatore’s incident being carried out by an ex-Army Special Forces sniper, and Hope agreed it was a possibility. Ali also told Hope about the hair she had found. In addition, she had two other things to show both Hope and Megan. “Come on, follow me.” She lead Hope and Megan down the hallway and into the JOCT crime labs. They went first to database room. A young tech named Amy Rodriguez was working the station.
“So, we ran the hair follicle I found, and we came up with this”, Ali said. She motioned to Amy, and she pulled up the screen. “As you can see, there’s a match. But, as you can also see, the match is classified.”
Hope looked at the screen and then looked at Ali and Megan. “What the hell is this? Classified?”
“It means that there’s no data about the person to whom this hair belongs in any regular civilian database – FBI, DEA, DMV, local law enforcement. None of them”, Megan said.
“Which means, the shooter may be military”, Ali said. “I’d love to check the army databases, but we’d have a hell of a time getting clearance for that, especially to special ops personnel.”
“Okay, so what else do you have?” Hope asked.
“We’re going to the tape room. Thanks, ARod”, Ali said, calling Amy by her nickname. Amy nodded, and Ali lead Megan and Hope down another hallway to another lab. This one had monitors all over the wall. A young woman named Heather O’Reilly was monitoring the station.
“So”, Ali started. “I got to thinking about the surveillance for the Salvatore’s hit. Now, it’s possible that all of the surveillance by the sniper was done outside of the restaurant, but a really good sniper would have wanted to take a look inside. So, going off the premise that our shooter knew that her victims dined at Salvatore’s every Sunday, I theorized that she may have actually wanted to case the joint herself.”
“Wait”, Megan said, “Are you sure it’s a she?”
“I’m getting to that”, Ali said. “Just pay attention. Now, there are street light cameras to catch speeders and red light runners at the stoplight just west of Salvatore’s. So, I asked Heather here to tap into the camera facing Salvatore's and pull all off the footage between 6-11pm for every Sunday evening for the last three months. Let me tell you - it’s been a lot of fun going through it all, but we came up with this.” Ali had Heather hit play on one of the monitors. The view street light camera provided a clear view of the front of Salvatore’s. “This is the Sunday before the hit. Look. Timestamp is 6:42. And there she is”, Ali said. Hope and Megan watched the screen as a tall, attractive blonde in a sharp, form-fitting suit walked into frame from the far side of the camera. As she came into view, she turned her head slightly to the side, away from the camera. She walked up to the restaurant and entered the front door. “That’s our unsub”, Ali said. Unknown Subject.
“She’s hot”, Megan said. “But that doesn’t make her the killer. I mean, killer body, but-“
“Focus, Pinhead”, Hope said to Megan, then turned to Ali. “So?”
“So, keep looking.” Heather scrolled through the footage at high speed until they got to 6:59pm. She slowed it down, and right at 7pm, two Mercedes Sedans pulled up, and Costello and Pazzarelli exited along with six of their bodyguards.
“So, the woman walks into the restaurant, and then 18 minutes later, the Italian crew walks in. So?” Hope asked again.
“Okay – watch”, Ali said. She had Heather fast forward the tape to 9:41. The Mercedes Sedans arrived at the front of the restaurant. At 9:42, the Italian crew exited the restaurant and got into the cars and drove off. At 9:48, the woman emerged from the restaurant, alone. As she did, she again turned her head slightly away from the camera and then walked away, out of frame.
“So, hot blonde comes into restaurant. She’s in there for three hours and then leaves”, Hope looked at Ali. “So?” she said again for the third time.
“So this", Ali said. "This woman with blonde hair, the same color hair I found on the rooftop, comes to the restaurant, dressed up for dinner. As she comes into frame of the speeding/red light camera, she deliberately turns her head, almost like she is worried about a camera catching her image. Normal people out for dinner wouldn't do that. She enters the restaurant at 6:42. The Italians enter right at 7. Between the time she enters and the time the Italians show up, only four other people show up – two sets of couples. Now, this woman is in there for almost three hours. Since she didn’t show up with anyone, and no one showed up to meet her, she probably dined alone. Who the hell dines alone in a restaurant for three hours? Then, the Italians leave, and then she leaves just a few minutes later. Alone. If she had met someone there for dinner, they would have left together, right? As she leaves, she is careful not to look in the direction of the street camera. Then she walks the other way.”
“Okay”, Megan chimed in. “So, what’s the bottom line, Kriegs?”
“The bottom line is that this woman is the shooter”, Ali stated. “She ate dinner in a restaurant alone for almost three hours, so she could case the joint and get a feel for her targets and their coverage. She showed up just before they arrived, and she left right after they departed. She knew there was a camera at the intersection near the restaurant, and she took care to avoid having it capture her face.” Ali looked at Hope, and Hope nodded. Then she looked at Megan, who was more convinced than before but still dubious. “I’m telling you guys, it’s her" Ali said. "I don’t know how I know, but I do.”
“Okay, so, if this woman is the shooter, than what do we do next?” Hope asked.
“I don’t know”, Ali said. “I mean, we could try to subpoena army personnel records, but the army probably won’t play nice. They take care of their own, especially their special ops personnel.”
“Well, shit. We’ve got a hot blonde with a killer body and a partial face print in a city of ten million people”, Megan said. “I don’t know where to begin.”
The three of them were silent for a moment, and then Hope’s cell rang. She put it to her ear. “Solo”, she said. She listened for a moment and then looked up at Ali and Megan. “Where at?” She paused for another moment. “Alright, we’re on our way.”
“What’s going on?” Ali asked.
“Three Disciples just got whacked outside of Mother’s nightclub on Division Street.” Hope looked at Ali and Megan. “They all took single shots to the head.”
“Shit”, Ali said. She looked at her watch. It was 10:37pm. “Let’s go.” The three of them bolted out of the building, jumped in Hope’s car and sped off.
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Ali, Megan, and Hope pulled up five minutes later. The local police had already cordoned off the area. Hope shook hands with the sergeant in charge and introduced Ali and Megan. “What do we got, Sarge?” Hope started in.
“Ramon Cruz, Jason Chang, and DeShawn Williams”, the sergeant said. “All three of them shot once in the head as they exited the club.”
“Yup, I know all three of them. Well, knew all three of them”, Hope said. “I’ve busted all of these guys before, multiple times. They were all high ranking members of the Chicago Disciples.” Hope looked around. Busy area. Bars on both sides of the street. She turned to Ali and Megan. “Thoughts?”
“Single shots to the head – it could be the same shooter”, Ali said. “What else do you know?” A large crowd had started to gather, and the press was already on the scene.
The sergeant looked at Ali. “We spoke to the club manager and the doorman. This club is a regular Disciple hangout. These guys were in here every week."
“Let me guess. Same night? This night? Every week?” Ali asked.
“Yep, that’s right”, the sergeant confirmed.
Christ, Ali thought. The shooter had stalked and eliminated them, and then vanished into thin air. It was like chasing a ghost. She looked across the street. As with Taylor Street, Division Street was lined with bars and restaurants in mostly two flat buildings. Ali looked further down the block in each direction. She spotted a bank about a block west. The top of the building was three stories tall. Division was more crowded than Taylor, and it would have been a tough shot, especially with other people around besides your targets, but a pro could have done it. She looked at Megan, and she seemed to be guessing her thoughts.
“You think the shooter might have perched there?” Megan asked and pointed to the top of the bank building.
“Maybe”, Ali said. “I’m going to go check it out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Ali took off for the building while Hope and Megan continued to work the club personnel and pedestrian witnesses. She went around back and found the fire escape, then climbed up it three floors and ended up on the roof. She walked to the ledge and peered over, half a block down and across the street to the club. It was similar to the shot at Salvatore’s. Ali took out her flashlight and shined it on the ground. She walked the perimeter of the roof and was about to start looking at the middle of the roof when she froze. There, on the ground, near the ledge, was another piece of hair. She picked it up and held it up to the light. It was the same length and color as the hair she had found on the rooftop near Salvatore’s. Something weird is happening here, she thought, and then an involuntary chill ran down her spine. She stuffed the hair into her pocket and then quickly withdrew her gun. She dropped into a shooter’s stance and pivoted a quick 360. Nothing. She slowed her breathing and holstered her gun, then went down and rejoined Hope and Megan.
“Find anything?” Hope said.
“Nope, nothing”, Ali lied.
“Well, I’ve got about all I’m gonna get down here.” Hope said. “C’mon – I’ll drop you guys back off at the Fed building.” The three of them got in Hope’s car and drove back downtown.
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After she had shot the three Disciples, Ashlyn had hightailed it down from the bank building. She had landed in an alley behind the bank. She changed her pants and was changing her shirt when a group of drunk girls stumbled up behind her. They caught her naked from the waist up, and their jaws dropped. Before they could say anything, Ashlyn put on her drunk voice and said, “Oh my Gawd, I’m sooooo drunk, and I like totally spilled a drink all over my shirt.” She looked at the drunk girls as she finished pulling her grey tank top on, and smiled the ‘I’m-so-drunk-I-spilled-my-drink” smile. The girls, now making sense of what happened, empathized with her, saying things like, “Oh don’t worry girl, we’ve all done it”, and then walked on. Ashlyn waited for them to pass, then ducked down a sidestreet where she had parked her car and put her rifle case in the trunk.
Standing at her car, Ashlyn had a thought. She really should get out of here right now. What she was going to do next was risky. But, for all of her training and discipline, she just couldn’t help it. She threw on her black vest and her fedora, shut her trunk, and then headed back to the street. She stood across from the bank and a couple stores down towards the club, keeping her head lowered so the fedora shielded her face. She took out her cellphone and pretended to talk on it, giggling every few minutes to make the conversation look real. She hung up her phone, lit a cigarette, and was pretending to smoke it, when she saw the first cop cars and ambulance pull up. A minute later, she saw the Ford Sedan screech to a halt, and out stepped Special Agent Beautiful and her two partners. She stood, watching her talk with the cops, then Ashlyn followed her with her eyes as she went to the bank building and climbed to the top. She lit another cigarette and pulled out her phone again, pretending to text, but all the while trying to watch Special Agent Beautiful as closely as she could. She really was beautiful, Ashlyn thought. And more than that, there was something else. She was a good person. A moral person. She wanted bad guys gone and good people to be safe. When Ashlyn had heard Special Agent Beautiful talk in the interview about wanting to rid Chicago of violent crime, she really believed it, and she really had felt a connection. That's what I want too, Ashlyn had thought. She stole a glance up and watched as Special Agent Beautiful appeared to be searching the rooftop with her flashlight and then freezing when she discovered what Ashlyn assumed to be the piece of hair that she had left for her to find. Leaving hair at the Salvatore’s hit had been an accident, but after coming home and seeing the hair caught in her ponytail band, she knew that she had dropped hair on the rooftop. Not to worry, she thought to herself, since it was unlikely that any civilian organization would be able to trace that to her, but when she saw Special Agent Beautiful later that night on TV, a thought had occurred to her. It was crazy, but for some reason tonight, she wanted to leave Special Agent Beautiful a clue to her identity. It was almost like she wanted Special Agent Beautiful to find her, to discover her, to seek her out and join forces with her. She had a quick fantasy about the two of them joining forces to rid the world of criminals, falling in love in the process. It doesn’t matter that she’s a law enforcement agent and that I’m fighting crime on my own, does it? We both want the same thing, right? Ashlyn snapped back to the present as she heard Special Agent Beautiful come back from the bank building and approach her partners. She looked at the three of them talking. None of them noticed her, standing a hundred feet away, with the rest of the crowd that had gathered. Then, she heard the tall, muscular brunette say, “C’mon – I’ll drop you guys back off at the Fed building.” She saw the three of them get in their car and drive off. Time to go, she thought. She waited for their car to turn a corner, then hustled to her car down the block. She got in, fired up the engine, and headed for the Federal Building.