Behind the Mask Page 2
“I did. Thanks for furnishing the apartment for me.”
Adam motioned to the woman. “This is Detective Katherine Summers, our task force agent from LAPD. She’s working this case with us.”
“Call me Kate,” she said as she reached out to shake hands.
Lexie shook hands with Kate. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m your contact agent,” Kate said. “You and I will be spending a great deal of time together.”
Kate was slender and looked to be in her late thirties.
“What’d I tell you,” Adam said. “Kate looks nothing like an agent. She’ll blend in well in your world.”
Adam had a natural confidence that bordered on arrogance.
“Are you ready for a whirlwind tour of LA?” he asked.
“Absolutely. This is my first time to California.”
“You’re going to love it,” Kate said. “Year-round perfect weather, beautiful beaches, and great food. I might be a little prejudiced, since I’m a California native, but I can’t think of anyplace better to live.”
Both Adam and Kate pointed out landmarks as they drove around the enormous city. The conversation flowed easily. Lexie discovered that she and Kate had many things in common.
Around lunch, Adam abruptly asked, “Anyone want waffles?”
Lexie and Kate simultaneously answered in the affirmative.
“Good, because my favorite waffle spot is down the street.”
Soon, they pulled up to a restaurant named The Waffle.
“That’s original,” Lexie said sarcastically.
“You’re going to love this place,” Adam said.
The peak lunch rush resulted in a packed restaurant. The trio of agents waited ten minutes for a table to become available. The hostess seated them at a table on the patio.
Lexie studied the menu as the waiter approached the table. She looked up from the menu and for a moment found herself tongue-tied. The waiter’s work T-shirt clung to his chiseled body. What really stood out were his sky-blue eyes.
“Hello. My name is Brandon. I’ll be taking care of you. Do you know what you want to drink?”
Kate ordered water with lemon, while Adam and Lexie both ordered coffee.
“Wow! That waiter is hot,” Lexie said a little louder than she intended. “The waiters don’t look like that in New Orleans.”Kate and Adam both laughed.
“Is New Orleans your first FBI office, Lexie?” Kate asked.
“Yes, I’ve been there a little over five years now.”
“How do you like it?”
“I love New Orleans. It’s such a magnificent city—great culture, great restaurants. I’m originally from Alabama, so it’s nice to be close to home. I’m able to visit my family and friends pretty regularly.”
“I thought I detected a Southern accent.”
Kate laughed. “My accent gets worse when I get around my family. Have you always lived in LA?”
“Yep, born and raised. I joined the police department when I was twenty-two years old.”
“What made you want to be a police officer?”
“My best friend and I applied together. She never followed through, but I decided to give it a shot. Ended up loving the job, and fifteen years later, here I am.”
“Are you married?” Lexie asked.
“Divorced. I have one son who starts high school in the fall. What about you?”
Lexie shrugged. “I’m single with no prospects. I’ve found that some men are intimidated by a woman who carries a gun.”
“I’m intimidated by you both,” Adam joked.
“What about you, Adam?” Lexie asked.
“I’m married, and we have two perfect children. My daughter is five, and my son is two.”
Brandon brought the food to the table. The side of hash browns that Lexie ordered filled a dinner-size plate.
“I hope you two plan to help me eat this platter of hash browns,” Lexie announced.
“We should’ve warned you that the servings were large,” Adam replied. “I’m sure I can help you out,” he added with a grin.
Lexie dug into her waffle. “This is the best waffle I’ve ever had in my life,” Lexie said with a mouthful of food. “We have to come back here again.”
“You don’t have to talk me into it. I love this place,” Adam agreed.
After lunch, Adam and Kate continued their tour. They hit the west side and showed Lexie Brentwood and Santa Monica.
“Tomorrow we’ll go to the JTTF office and introduce you to the investigative team,” Adam said. “Even though the office is a covert site, we’ll still need to be careful. We don’t want you to be seen going into the office, so Kate and I will sneak you in through the garage entrance. This might be the only time we take you to the office, but it’s important that you have the opportunity to meet your support team.”
“I agree. What time should I be ready to go?”
“We’ll pick you up around nine. We can grab some coffee and then head to the Valley.”
Adam pulled up in front of Lexie’s apartment. “See you tomorrow,” Adam said.
“Bye, guys. Nice meeting you, Kate.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Kate said. “I’m excited about working this case together. We’re going to have a good time.”
“I think so, too.”
* * * * *
The next morning, Adam and Kate pulled up right at nine. After a few pleasantries, the case brief began. As they crept along in five lanes of wall-to-wall traffic from Venice to the San Fernando Valley, Adam inundated Lexie with names of targets, victims, and groups.
“See that white building over there?” Kate said as she pointed to a building just off of the 405 freeway. “That’s the main FBI office. Whatever you do, never step foot in that building. The animal rights and environmental extremists sometimes surveil the FBI office, taking photographs of agents coming and going from the building.”
“That’s pretty damn dedicated. Do you guys ever work out of the main office?” Lexie asked.
“I go to the main office occasionally for meetings,” Adam answered. “Since Kate works mostly covert matters, she never goes there.”
“I’m assigned full-time to the Joint Terrorism Task Force, so I work out of JTTF on a daily basis,” Kate said. “Have you ever worked at a covert offsite?”
“No. I’ve just worked out of the FBI and DEA offices in New Orleans.”
“Most of the rules won’t affect you, since you’re working undercover, but there are a few rules that go with a covert location you’ll still need to know. First, never wear anything that says FBI or identifies you as law enforcement.”
Lexie laughed, and then she realized that Kate was serious.
“I tell you this because, believe it or not, we have had our share of bureau morons who strut up to the front door wearing a badge, gun, and FBI shirt.”
Lexie shook her head. “I can’t believe we have people working for the FBI who don’t understand what the word covert means.”
“We’ve had agents park their bureau vehicles out front with police lights visible. One guy even had his ballistic vest and raid jacket lying in the passenger seat of his car, visible to anybody walking by. I could tell you idiot agent stories all day long.”
“We’re getting close to the office,” Adam announced. “Lie down in the backseat, Lexie.”
Adam pulled the car to the back of the building and entered the attached garage.
“The door is down; you can get up now. We’ll give you the grand tour.”
Housed at a covert site in the San Fernando Valley, the Joint Terrorism Task Force office looked like a regular business. The secure front entrance opened to a tiny, unassuming reception area. But behind the reception desk wall was an entire squad area equipped with twenty-five desks
and computers.
Lexie was introduced to the investigative team, which consisted of an FBI analyst, another LAPD detective, a UCLA police officer, the squad supervisor, and an FBI accountant. A couple of other agents were used periodically when needed for surveillance purposes.
Lexie spent the next several hours reviewing case files and looking at photographs. When Adam dropped her off at her apartment that evening, she thought her brain might explode from information overload. Before he left, he handed her an envelope with her new undercover driver’s license, credit card, and social security number.
Starving, she decided to walk over to a small Mexican restaurant down the street. She ordered a bean burrito—only vegan entrees from now on. As she handed over her credit card, she caught a glimpse of her new name and felt a thrill of excitement.
She was leaving Alexis Montgomery behind and becoming Alexis Marie Taylor, vegan animal rights extremist. Tomorrow, she’d take one more trip back to New Orleans to make the final preparations for her assignment in Los Angeles, and then she’d be ready to embark on Operation Blind Fury.
CHAPTER TWO
Savannah
August 2010 - Los Angeles, California
Savannah Riley had just finished putting the last of her clothes away when a frenzied female burst through the door.
“You must be my roommate,” the girl said as she plopped down on Savannah’s bed. “I’m Haley.”
“Hey,” Savannah said, startled.
Haley was a tiny girl with huge brown eyes and mahogany hair. She had bright pink streaks in her hair and piercings in her eyebrow, ears, and nose. Tattoos of all sizes and colors were inked on various parts of her anatomy, and she wore oversized clothes on her five-foot frame.
“I went ahead and took this side of the room. Is that okay with you?” Savannah asked.
“Oh sure. I’m not picky. I love your accent. You can’t be from California.”
“Pawley’s Island, South Carolina,” Savannah stated. “Where are you from?”
“Everywhere and nowhere, really.”
Savannah thought the answer strange, but she was fascinated with Haley and eager to learn all about her. She offered to help her bring in her boxes from the hallway.
“You didn’t bring much stuff,” Savannah commented.
“I don’t need very much.”
Trying to keep the conversation flowing, Savannah asked the question that every college student dreads: “What’s your major?”
“I’m undeclared, but leaning toward environmental science.”
Haley picked up the framed family photo sitting on Savannah’s nightstand. “Is this your family?” Haley asked.
“Yep, that’s my mother, father, and twin brother, Hunter. My brother is a freshman at The Citadel.”
Haley raised an eyebrow. “What’s The Citadel?”
“It’s a military college in Charleston, South Carolina. My grandfather and father are Citadel graduates, so Hunter is following in their footsteps.”
“You didn’t want to go there?” Haley asked.
“No way! That place is too strict and rigid for my tastes.”
“What’s it like having a twin? You guys don’t look that much alike,” Haley said as she put the photo down.
“It’s fine, I guess. Hunter is five and a half minutes older than me, but he treats me like I’m his baby sister.”
“You guys aren’t close?”
“No, not really. Hunter’s the favorite.” Savannah sighed. “He’s the perfect son. Does everything that he’s supposed to do and now he’s going to the mighty Citadel.”
“That sucks. Why did you choose SoCal?”
“Film school,” Savannah answered. “I figured if I want a career in the film industry, I needed to move to California. What’s your story?”
“I don’t have a story. I’m here for school . . . no story.”
“Well, you’re definitely not from the South,” Savannah said.
Haley narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Because you don’t share. Most Southerners are pretty open. We tend to talk too much and share everything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when it comes to telling you information.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that I would tell your business. I just meant . . . well, I don’t really know what I meant. Ignore me. I’m rambling.”
Haley smirked. “You do tend to ramble.”
Savannah hung her head.
Haley play-punched her. “Oh come on, I’m messing with you, girl. You can ramble all you want.” She picked up a smaller frame with a photo of Savannah hugging a blond girl, both sporting huge smiles.
“Is this your sister?”
“No, that’s my friend Nora. We’ve been best friends since grade school.”
“She’s pretty,” Haley commented.
“She’s dating my brother. If he has it his way, she’ll become my sister-in-law after he graduates from college.” Savannah snorted. “I’m sure they’ll produce perfect, fair-headed children and have the perfect, quintessential Southern life.”
“Wow, that sounded a little bitter,” Haley said.
Savannah sat down on her bed. “Well, when you walk in on your twin brother boning your best friend and you find out their secret relationship has lasted longer than any relationship that you’ve ever had, bitter seems like a perfectly fine response.”
“That’s harsh. You seriously caught them in the act?”
“Yep. I’m over it now.”
Haley rolled eyes. “I can tell.”
Savannah giggled.
“Where did you say you were from?” Haley asked.
“Pawley’s Island. It’s a small island in South Carolina, north of Charleston.”
“Los Angeles is a long way from South Carolina.”
“Exactly why I’m here. I grew up on this tiny island where the tides dictate life. Island children run around shoeless and carefree. I could cast a net for shrimp and trap crabs for dinner when I was ten. Nothing exciting ever happened on the island. It was a great childhood, but I want more from life. I want mystery and exhilaration instead of the same old, dull routine.”
Haley placed a variety of seeds and nuts on the shelf above her desk. “That’s understandable.” She motioned toward the snacks. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks. What’s with all the squirrel food?”
Haley laughed. “It’s not squirrel food. I’m a strict vegan.”
“Is that like a vegetarian?” Savannah asked.
“Vegans don’t consume any animal products or anything derived from an animal, including dairy. If it has a face, I don’t eat it or its products, and I don’t wear it.”
“I’ve never met a vegan, so I’m curious. Why no dairy? The cows aren’t hurt for their milk.”
“Are you kidding? The dairy industry is barbaric. Think about it, Savannah; cows produce milk for the same reason humans do—to nourish their young. Cows are artificially impregnated to force them to produce milk. Calves are taken from their mothers within a day of being born; the males are either sent to veal crates or feed lots, and the females are kept to become dairy cows like their mothers.”
Savannah, who had been folding a shirt, stopped and gave her full attention to Haley. “What are veal crates?”
“Come, sit down.” Haley motioned toward her bed.
Savannah moved a pile of clothes to make room. She sat cross-legged across from Haley.
“Calves are kept immobilized in tiny, dark crates to keep their flesh tender. The calves are kept in these crates for a few months, fed a diet low in iron to keep their flesh white, and then slaughtered and sold as veal.”
“That’s horrible!”
“It’s shocking what goes on behind the walls of a factory farm,” Haley added.
“I prefer soy milk, but I also use almond milk and rice milk. I can give you a DVD to watch if you want to know more about being a vegan.”
“Sounds interesting. I’d like to learn more. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know anything about veganism. Why are you a vegan? Is it for health reasons or because of the animal cruelty?” Savannah inquired.
“I’m an animal rights activist. Everything I do is to save poor, defenseless animals. Animals shouldn’t give their lives so we can eat their flesh or wear their skins.”
Savannah looked down at her newly purchased leather boots. “What do you do about purses and shoes?”
Haley leaned over and grabbed her tattered backpack from the foot of the bed. “This backpack is made from hemp. See how strong it is? I have purses and shoes made out of hemp, canvas, and other man-made materials. I don’t use products or wear cosmetics that were tested on animals either. I’d be happy to teach you more. I have a whole collection of animal activist DVDs. You can learn about factory farming, animal testing, and laboratory vivisection. After you learn the truth, you’ll never eat meat again.”
Savannah shuddered. “I’m afraid to ask, but what’s vivisection?”
Haley tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and continued. “Vivisectionists are monsters. They cut up innocent, live animals in laboratory experiments and call it research.”
“I thought researchers used computer simulations in place of live animals.”
“That’s what they want you to believe, but what goes on behind laboratory doors is horrific.” Haley stood up, walked over to her closet, and pulled out a shabby box. She rummaged through the box and removed several DVDs, pamphlets, and books. “This should get you started.” She handed the items to Savannah.
* * * * *
Savannah loitered outside of a noisy house on Thirtieth Street, waiting for her newfound friends to arrive. She had reluctantly accepted an invitation for a girls’ night out with several of the women in her English class. The plan was to go to a party at a house that was known for having good booze and hiring great bands. Savannah had elected to meet them at the house because she had dinner plans with Haley. She tried to get Haley to go to the party, but Haley bailed when she found out who Savannah was meeting. She described Savannah’s friends as soulless bitches.