Only on a stroke of luck had Gage even caught on to Abdulla. It came in the way of a missing person from one photo frame to the next, and now, after all this time, Gage had this guy within his grasp. Constant surveillance would track Abdulla’s every move, but they would have to stay completely hidden until Gage was ready for the next phase.
If everything played out as planned, they would expose Abdulla by airing this report sometime in the next ten days to two weeks. And Gage would be all up in the middle of it, bringing Abdulla’s name and face for the entire world to see. The United States military would be scrambling, but he would give them enough lead to get them in the general area before he broke the story. If he told them too much, they would take the story, pulling him out of it, and no way would he let it happen.
Gage kept his eyes trained on the monitor while leaning over to take the coffee cup from the maker, and then took a long drink. The hot brew burned its way down, giving him the jolt he needed. After watching the video in its entirety, he sent a few quick emails and made a few notes, moving the video to the corner of his screen in order to watch it all again later.
The sun lifted fully and he heard a truck pull to the front of the building. It was already seven in the morning. The crews were arriving, ready to start their day. Gage checked his calendar again, the new electrical contractor would be here around nine and he palmed his phone to alert him of the time. He couldn’t afford any more mess ups and changed a couple of things on his schedule to be available when the new electrical contractor got there.
Chapter 3
The Coop Electric double cab pick-up truck pulled to the front curb of The Art Gallery, the name pretty much said it all. From what he’d been told of the area, he now sat parked in the newest, most trendy part of Chicago. It wasn’t all that long ago this area of town was considered straight up hood, but over the last few years the city of Chicago dumped tons of money and tax incentives in to help revitalize its south side. From what he could see, it worked. All along the walkway, bistros and cafes were littered in between several vintage book stores and coffee shops. He saw several high-end, ultra trendy retailers were also opening up shops, changing the whole feel of the area.
The drive wasn’t too many miles away from his house, yet a world of difference existed between here and his little neighborhood in Overland Park. Today’s traffic hadn’t absolutely sucked, and he’d gotten to the job site a little bit early. Trent tugged the rearview mirror down and worked his fingers through his hair, making sure it all lay down close to the way it should. Then he checked his teeth for anything lingering from breakfast. He realized then he forgot to go back inside and shave after the kids woke up this morning. Damn! The need to give a good first impression had him quickly weighing his options.
Ten minutes early didn’t leave enough time to run to the local drug store and do a quick shave, but this was a new general contractor to him, one he’d been trying to get his foot in the door with for years… Shit! Trent looked hard at himself. He didn’t have much more than a five o’clock shadow and many guys purposefully wore their beards like this… But dammit!
He’d finally won a bid with Layne Construction, and he wasn’t stupid, this would be the trial job to judge his performance. Nothing too big, but fast-paced and they’d be watching him closely. If he could pull this off while doing a good job, it might work his little electrical contracting business fully in the door of Layne and turn the tide for his baby, Coop Electric. It might even get him out from underneath doing so much of the day to day electrical work himself and would definitely help keep the receivables steadily coming in.
One last look in the mirror brought him to the decision to ignore the stubble on his face. Being on time should be more important than what he wore on his face… Right? Forcing it all from his mind, Trent jumped from the truck and took a look down, making sure his short sleeve button down stayed tucked into his new blue jeans and everything lay just right with his clothes. He grabbed his clipboard and phone as well as the estimate he’d given when bidding this job before giving a kick with his foot to slam the truck door. He pivoted seamlessly, turning in a full circle to open the truck door again. He grabbed a pencil and tape measure before making his way to what he thought might be the contractor and a very nicely dressed woman standing at the front doors. They looked to be in a deep conversation.
“Hi, excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Trent Cooper, Coop Electric. Are you Roger McCall?” he asked and fumbled with the items in his hands, trying to free his right hand for a quick shake.
“I am. Nice to meet you, Trent,” Roger said, never fully taking his eyes off the woman in front of him, but stuck out his hand and shook Trent’s.
“It’s nice to meet you.” After releasing Roger’s hand, he automatically made the same offer to the woman standing beside McCall when he didn’t appear willing to make the introductions.
“I’m Jacquelyn Ballinger, The Art Gallery’s new curator,” she said, shaking his hand. Trent could see he’d interrupted a moment. He could tell from the look on her face it wasn’t necessarily a good moment. Turning back to McCall, Trent held in his laugh. McCall’s expression screamed hell bent on finishing the private conversation. The poor man wasn’t picking up on a single clue the lady laid down that she wasn’t interested in continuing whatever it was they’d been discussing.