Tony nodded eagerly. “You bet.”
“Send this data off to Jamey’s workstation where she can evaluate it. Then I want you to reconnoiter the Green Dragon Computers store in Little Tokyo. I’ve got a report which indicates there’s a small electronics repair facility inside that store. Zoning and salary records indicate three shifts a day, which means that facility is up and running twenty-four/seven.”
“How aggressive do you want me to be?”
Chappelle contemplated the question. “Don’t run in with guns drawn, but get results. We know it was this facility that retrofitted the memory stick, so at least one person inside that firm knows about the device and how it was meant to be used. Find out what you can in a hurry. I don’t want you to have to make a second trip.”
“Should I talk to Blackburn, the team?”
Chappelle winced. “Definitely not. I’m keeping the Special Assault Team out of this, especially after that mess at LAX. You’ll have a partner, but not someone from Tactical, or Division. ”
Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who exactly are you referring to?”
“Captain Jessica Schneider. She’s the one who dug up the information on Green Dragon. She wants to go into the field to further investigate but she needs backup. That’s you.”
“No way,” said Tony. “I’m not taking orders from a novice.”
“I already told her she’s going. And that she’s in charge,” Chappelle replied.
“She’s active military. What about
“She’s temporarily attached to CTU, which means Captain Schneider has an executive mandate to deal with domestic terrorists that overrules
Tony frowned. “But she has absolutely no field experience.”
“Captain Schneider found the link to Green Dragon everyone else missed. For that she’s earned the right to follow up the investigation to the end. As far as field experience goes, everyone has to start somewhere. You had no field experience a year ago.”
“It’s political, isn’t it, Ryan?”
Ryan Chappelle nodded. “Yes, Tony. It is.”
“Get someone else, then. Special Agent Martinez, or that new guy, Curtis what’s his name.”
Ryan shook his head. “Believe it or not, Captain Schneider requested your presence, and you’re going, Tony.”
“There’s no one here. We’re closed.”
Caitlin was firm, but the blond American refused to go away. He seemed to search for another way in, then he spoke again. “I need to see Shamus or Griffin. It’s urgent.”
The man sounded sincere. “Who are you, then? The police?” Caitlin asked. “If you’re a cop then show me yer badge.”
The man shook his head. “I’m just a business associate. Listen, Shamus and Griffin are in danger. The people around them may be in danger, too.”
Caitlin thought of Liam and the case he carried.
“At least give me some information,” the man pleaded.
Caitlin took a deep breath. She unlocked the bolt but left the chain in place as she cracked the heavy oak door. “You say you know Shamus?” she asked, nervously peeking through.
Jack nodded. “Yes. I’ve got to speak to him. I’m trying to keep him alive. His brother, too.”
Caitlin gasped when a voice spoke behind her. “He’s a damned liar, Cait.”
She turned to find Shamus standing there, shirtless. He was flushed, angry. A gun with an absurdly long barrel was clutched in his right hand.
Through the partly opened door, Jack saw Shamus, too. He lunged, butting his shoulder against the thick wood between them. With the noise of splintering wood the bolt tore free. The door slammed against Caitlin, sending the young woman flying backward. She struck her head against the wall and slumped to the floor.
As Jack pushed through the open door, Shamus raised his arm and the weapon in his hand discharged. The blast was muffled by the noise suppressor on the barrel, but Jack felt the bullet whiz past his head, heard it slap against the elevated train’s steel support beam in the street behind him. Jack leaped forward. Before Shamus could fire again, he slapped the weapon out of his hand.
Shamus stumbled backward but didn’t fall. He bolted across the tavern, tossing tables and chairs in Jack’s path. Jack caught up with him just as he burst through a door and started to climb narrow stairs to the second floor. Jack seized Shamus by the ankle and yanked. Legs jerked out from under him, the man hit the steps with his jaw, but still fought back. Jack grabbed the man’s red hair as Shamus clawed at his face. Holding the man steady, Jack laid a hard right on the man’s already bruised face — then another. He raised his fist for a third blow but Shamus went limp.
Jack hauled the man up the rest of the stairs and into the cramped apartment. He tossed him onto the floor. Using cords ripped from a phone, radio, and lamp, Jack hog-tied Shamus Lynch and muffled his mouth with some electrical tape he found in a drawer. When he was satisfied the man wasn’t going anywhere, Jack ran back downstairs to check on the woman.
She had yet to stir when Jack got to her. He stepped over her limp body and closed the door, then he searched her clothing for a weapon. All he found was a wad of money in her blouse, some change in an apron pocket. The woman moaned softly. Jack hurried back to the bar and filled a glass with water, wrapped a cloth around a chunk of ice, and brought them back to her.
“Here, drink this,” he said softly, cradling the woman’s head and tipping the glass to her lips. “Can you talk?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“What’s the name of this pub?”
“The Last Celt.”
“Do you know what time of day it is? Before midnight or after?”
“After.”
Jack checked her eyes. Her vision didn’t appear glassy or vacant and her voice sounded strong, her answers comprehensible. So it didn’t appear she’d suffered a concussion, but there was a nasty bump growing on her head. He placed the icy cloth against it and she winced.
“Do you feel nauseated? Dizzy?” Jack asked.
The woman waved him off. “You almost killed me, you did. All to get to Shamus. I hope you found him. Now what? You’ll murder us both?”
“My name is Bauer. I’m a Federal agent. You are…?”
“Caitlin.” She clutched her head. “Help me up.”
Jack lifted the woman off the floor, guided her across the tavern. Chairs and tables were overturned, strewn about. “Ohh,” Caitlin sighed when she saw the mess. “I just cleaned this place.”
Jack helped her into a booth. “Do you live in the apartment upstairs?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“Yes. With my brother, Liam.”
“You’re Shamus Lynch’s girlfriend.”
Caitlin pressed the icy cloth against the bump on the back of her head, winced again. “
“What does Shamus do for a living?”
“Owns a computer store. Surely you know that, if you’ve come lookin’ for him.”
“And you know nothing about his other activities? His ties to international terrorism?”
Caitlin stared at Jack as if he’d grown a second nose. Then she laughed out loud. “Terrorist! Are you daft? You can’t be thinking about Shamus. The man might buy stolen goods here and there, but international terrorism? Mother in heaven, no.”
They both heard a crash from above. Jack grabbed Caitlin’s arm and dragged her across the tavern and up the stairs. In the small living room, Shamus was awake and struggling. He’d knocked over a chair trying to free himself. When Caitlin saw Shamus tied up on the floor, she froze; her green eyes went wide. Jack pushed her into
