Page 74 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

“We’ve got pinhole cameras set up inside the barn, giving us eyes on the drums 24/7,” he said, addressing the men and women taking up every chair in the conference room.

Sitting before him were Special Agents-in-Charge of the Newark and New York FBI, ATF, and Homeland Security offices, representatives of the JTTF, New York and New Jersey State Police, and several other agents, including Dayne and RAC Verrone.

“We have more teams stationed less than a mile from the barn.” Eric pointed to a map on the wall behind him. “If the drums are moved, we’ll follow them then get a search warrant and take down the entire operation.”

“Sounds reasonable.” ATF SAC Art Hellman looked up from making notes on a pad. “Why do you think they’ll be moved? Isn’t it a possibility those drums are all they have and that the bomb will be constructed at the barn?”

“It’s possible.” Eric nodded, briefly meeting Dayne’s gaze. “But our theory is that the amount of ammonium nitrate in those drums is only part of the full quantity they’re amassing.”

“Why do you think that?” FBI SAC Amy Gonzalez raised her brows.

Eric indicated for Dayne to pass out copies of the ATF lab report. “It’s been over twenty years since a sovereign citizen blew up the Oklahoma City federal building with an ammonium nitrate bomb. Since then, there’ve been changes to federal regulations requiring anyone purchasing greater than twenty-five pounds of ammonium nitrate at a time to have a license and file paperwork. As you can see from the report, each of the drums contains less than twenty-five pounds, and all were obtained from different companies in different locations around the country. We believe they’ve been piecemealing to fly under the radar and accumulate a much larger quantity of AN without getting red flagged. The only questions at this point are how much they’ve acquired and whether they’ll construct the bomb at the barn or transport these drums to another location.”

“How long has it been since the controlled delivery?” SAC Hellman asked.

“Just over twenty-eight hours.” Five hours since he’d made love to Tess. He glanced at the door.

Dammit. Where the hell is she?

It had been over an hour since he’d left her a voicemail message and texted her to get to the ATF office. She should have been there already. If she’d taken Jesse and run, he’d—

“What about Pritchard and the other men?” SAC Gonzalez asked.

“Pritchard, Ruffalo, and Fenway are holed up in a hotel in Chester.” Eric did his best not to reveal the personal battle going on in his head. He worried it was written all over his face. “We’ve got two teams watching them around the clock.”

“So, we’re in a holding pattern for the moment,” Hellman said.

“Let’s get back to the men in the hotel,” Homeland Security SAC Max Murray interrupted. “Did we do a dump on their phones, hard lines and cell phones?”

“We did,” Dayne answered. “None of their toll records contain calls made to or from anyone of interest. All their cell phones are turned off, so there’s no way for us to track them.”

“Which shouldn’t be an issue,” RAC Verrone added, “since we have eyes on them. We even stationed an agent outside their residences. Just in case.”

SAC Murray narrowed his eyes. “In case what?”

“I’ll let Special Agent Miller respond to your question.” Verrone nodded to Eric. “Agent Miller was previously assigned to the ATF’s Birmingham, Alabama office and has personal experience with a group of active sovereign citizens down there.”

Once again, all eyes turned to the front of the room. Not that he doubted it for a second, but it was his ass was on the line here. Big time.

He cleared his throat. “We believe an Alabama chapter of sovereign citizens run by Harley Gant is assisting or spearheading this whole thing. Gant was responsible for murdering three ATF agents in Birmingham several years ago, and he has a penchant for using explosives.”

Several minutes later, after he’d succinctly described what had happened in Alabama, along with the connection between Pritchard and Gant, RAC Verrone added, “That’s why we have agents looking out for Harley Gant.”

SAC Murray’s expression was grim. “Given what happened to you and your colleagues, Agent Miller, are you certain you can be objective about all this?”

“Yes, sir.” Not a chance in hell, but no way was he about to say anything that would get him pulled off the case.

SAC Gonzalez held up her hand. “What about Jesse McTavish? Can he be of any more assistance?”

Good question.

He and Dayne exchanged meaningful looks. “We dumped the toll records for his phone. Every number is an untraceable burner phone, including the one used to give Jesse the logistics for the controlled delivery.”

“What do you think their motive is?” SAC Murray crossed his arms. “Why would a previously nonviolent group of sovereign citizens suddenly align themselves with a madman like Gant?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Eric admitted. “They’re either doing Gant’s bidding, or they need his assistance to get themselves on the map.”

“Maybe,” Dayne added, “these assholes just needed someone to show them how to build a damn bomb.”