Based on what he’d just witnessed, Aaron conceded that Mitch wasn’t the most dangerous part of the dynamic duo of K & M. And he realized right then, the urban legend he’d read about Kreed could quite possibly be true. Aaron glanced back to see every single eye in the area still trained on Kreed, with every agent’s palm resting on the butt of their weapon. Anger wafted all around him.
He’d been fooled by Kreed’s laid-back demeanor. That casual, overly easygoing guy of the last hour had evaporated in less than a second, leaving no doubt Kreed could have taken out many of those agents by himself.
Aaron remembered reading Kreed’s military file. It was filled with intense moments of heroism along with large black holes of missing documentation. That stayed consistent until he went to work for the marshal service. Since Aaron had that knowledge and had still underestimated Kreed, he wondered if anyone—even Mitch—could fill in those blanks in Kreed’s military career.
“You’ll be admitted under the supervision of Deputy Sinacola…” the guard behind the desk asserted carefully.
“Like I fuckin’ said,” Kreed growled at all the agents standing around the area. After getting to his feet, the agent came around the desk, his hands up in the air, trying for calm.
“Until we can get your identification properly loaded, stay with him at all times so we can keep this from happening again. It’s precaution, nothing more. You know how different security is in today’s world. We’ve gotta be overcautious…” It was a valiant effort to ease the agitation. One that didn’t work at all if the tension level was any indication, but still a solid try.
“We’re speeding that process along.”
Aaron looked over to see Agent Brown jogging quickly in from the side, a big giant grin made the corners of his eyes crinkle. His hand came forward as he reached the group of them, and he shook Kreed’s hand. “The place’s going nuts about a big, crazy Southern redneck causing problems. I knew immediately it was you, Sinacola.”
Brown patted Kreed on the shoulder. Aaron grabbed his identification from the sneering guard and hung the temporary lanyard around his neck, never looking back. While Kreed and Brown did their thing, Aaron glanced around the room and watched the guards continue to eye Kreed with an occasional glance in his direction as they spoke in hushed voices near the desk. They were no doubt grandstanding simply because they knew exactly who Kreed Sinacola was and wanted to make a show of going toe-to-toe with the big guy, maybe to earn a few pats on the back and bragging rights later in the locker room.
Agent Brown stuck his hand out toward Aaron. “Good of you to come.”
“It wasn’t a choice.” He only lowered his eyes for a second to clasp the hand before cutting his gaze back across the room to take in the animosity still brewing.
Brown followed his glance and waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, that’s standard around here. Why don’t we get you settled in?” Brown had Kreed by the shoulder, pushing him toward the elevator; Aaron followed, staying close to Sinacola. “That’s Roger Covington, Anne’s husband. He and Knox got into it when Mitch first arrived too. It was kind of comical. Wish I could have seen it firsthand.”
“He’s a douche,” Kreed said loud enough for everyone in the lobby area to hear. He looked back over his shoulder and pinned all the agents still watching with a warning stare.
“Yeah, I think Mitch had a few choice words of his own. Covington’s just doing his job. He’s clearly good at it,” Brown stated matter-of-factly, waving his badge in front of the elevator security pad. The doors opened and Brown ushered him and Kreed inside. The tension slowly began to fade once the doors had closed.
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Kreed muttered. Aaron watched as Kreed took a few deep breaths and visibly forced himself to calm down. Kreed’s mood control was an impressive sight. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone have that much self-discipline over their aggression before.
“It happens every time I have to show my credentials in a government office. That shit’s never gonna come off my record, but it’s also why they hired me,” Aaron said as the doors opened. Brown was off first, but Kreed made Aaron exit the elevator before he followed.
“That doesn’t happen to me. I served this country with a spotless record for the last twenty years. When I say something, it needs to be at least noted,” Kreed tossed out. Aaron didn’t respond as he pinpointed all the cameras lining the walkways of this floor. That uncanny big-brother-watching factor was high, and he wondered how many cameras were monitoring them right now. His stomach churned under the stress of the moment.
As he continued his forward motion, following Brown, Aaron did a complete circle. There wasn’t a space that a camera wasn’t trained on them. His eyes collided with Kreed’s and stayed there longer than they should have. Kreed was right. Failing in his first goal of being sent back home, they needed to team up and get out into the field as quickly as possible. Nothing would be solved under all this oppressive monitoring. How the hell had Mitch gotten as far as he had with the investigation? Aaron turned back around toward Brown and readjusted his attitude. He’d find the information Kreed asked about so they could get the hell out of there.
~~~
The overhead fluorescent lights flickered as Kreed shrugged out of his jacket, absently tossing the worn leather aside on a side chair in the conference room he’d called home for several weeks last fall. Clearly, not nearly enough investigating had gone on in this room since he’d left. All the victims of this case had their pictures exactly where Connors and Knox had placed them on the wall. The handwritten notes were still scribbled on the rolling dry-erase boards. The monitor they’d brought in to conference in Aaron during meetings still sat in its place at the table. His counterparts in the marshals’ division would be mighty pissed off to know the FBI had all this space while they doubled up in just about every field office they had.