Previously: Jeannie & Mark interview Jen Tyson. Mark begins putting pieces together in a new way.
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4:22 PM - Friday, November 6, 2014
US Park Police Office, Ft Winfield Scott, The Presidio
Something was vibrating. Something was vibrating and it was very nearby. Mark slowly opened his eyes and saw the slanted square of sunlight on the wall. He was in the small conference room at the end of the hall. Jeannie had shut him up in here with two bottles of water, insisting he nap for at least 15 minutes. He sat down on the floor under the window, letting the cool breeze drift over him. Pounding one bottle of water, he eased himself down to the floor and was asleep in seconds. He stared at the patch of sunlight for another moment and his eyes drifted closed, taking him back into the top level drift of sleep.
The vibrating started again.
The vibrating. Mark’s eyes popped open and he shot up, leaning on his forearm as he reached for his phone on the floor next to him.
“This is Greenberg,” he sniffed, throat raspy. His abdomen ached slightly, telling him he’d have to pee very soon.
“Greenberg, hi. It’s Ben Flint with the DEA.” Mark was suddenly wide awake, trying to scramble together what Ben Flint looked like. He knew he’d met him that morning, but that felt like it had been ten years ago.
“Yeah, hi Ben. What’s - what can I do for you?”
“Well, not much, if I’m honest. I have to tell you that there just isn’t enough.”
“Isn’t enough? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. The Hartman house, it’s essentially clean. I mean, apart from that GHB and a few small bags of Oxy that we found in the kid’s room — the kid you guys are looking into — everything there seems pretty legit. A few prescriptions, but nothing off-label or in any kind of odd quantity. Based on the information we had about the suspected operation, we thought there’d be a lot more in that house. It’s surprising that there’s nothing we can go on.”
“Do you think someone tipped them off?” Mark thought of Jeannie’s Lieutenant, his hard glare that he held throughout the morning de-brief. He hated the ideas that began to spin in his mind.
“Possible. It is a little…too clean?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Mark sighed and lay back down on the floor. “So, nothing. What about the tax guys?”
“You’d have to ask them, I’m sorry. We definitely have good intel on this guy Hartman, so this was unexpected. I’m hoping you got something you can work with though.”
“I think we do. Thank you.”
“Yeah sure, man. Good luck with your case.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know if we come across anything for you.”
“Thanks.” The call ended. Mark stared at the ceiling for a long moment, wondering who had stashed the drugs that were supposed to be in the Hartman house that morning. At least there’d been enough there to link Tripp to the GHB from Friday night, plus what looked like a few baggies tens of Oxy, like Jen Tyson had said were her preferred order. He took in a long breath and blew it out, feeling his back press against the hard floor. He needed to pee but could barely figure out how he’d actually move to standing to make it happen.
They had the drugs tied to Tripp. They had Tripp’s phone, which didn’t have the video of Seb on it, but it still could be on his laptop, which Raj was still scrubbing. They were going back through Tripp’s texts to see who he’d been talking to leading up to Halloween and see who was in on the “prank” with the wolf masks. At least, that was what Owen was working on. It was beginning to come together.
Mark’s mind began to map what was left for them to do, images, encounters, memories of interviews all starting to piece themselves together. He thought of one of those kinetic machines where you drop a little ball and the ball moves through all kinds of chutes and slides and everything is balanced and counter balanced and perpetually moving until the ball lands someplace and a freshly poured glass of beer appears. God, he wanted a freshly poured glass of beer. He needed to pee.
Jen Tyson. He thought of the awkward interview he and Jeannie had endured with the girl; “troubled” didn’t even begin to describe it. He couldn’t help that she made his skin crawl. They needed to talk to Seb Podesta again, immediately. And then, eventually, Tally Briggs…but there was more to do before that happened. Everything against Tally needed to be ready so she’d give them Tripp. Then, maybe, if they were lucky, Tripp would give them his father. The odds were long, but if the hand could be played —.
Mark checked his watch. Almost 4:30. Press conference in a half hour. He already had it scripted in his head: something nondescript, teen bullying, prank gone wrong, agencies working together…that kind of thing. Then Carole Thomas wanted to speak, and then he’d give them Jeannie. The fallout would be massive, but maybe, just maybe it would work. Something was going to shift, he could feel it coming. The whole point was to scare the people that had scared Alexa Thomas. He huffed out a sigh, worried once again that Carole and Spiro Thomas had no idea what they were heading toward, but also knowing they would do everything they could to support them. As if their lives hadn’t changed enough this week. Losing a daughter —.
Mark raised his phone and dialed Katie.
“Hey baby.” Her voice said on the second ring. “How is it going?”
“It’s going.” He sighed. “Heading into the press conference in a little while. Check the news if you can.”
“I will. I want to see my hot husband being Mr. FBI.” Mark’s face formed a fatigued smile.
“Not feeling very hot at the moment. I’m exhausted. Just finishing a power nap in one of the conference rooms.”
“Well good. You won’t be getting a lot of sleep in the next few weeks.” Mark pictured her with her large belly, wishing he could just be home with her right now.
“I know it, babe. I’ll be there, I promise.” He whispered. “How’s the belly?”
“She’s good. Kicking a lot…” Her voice faded in that wistful way she’d had lately whenever she contemplated what was going on inside her body. “Just finish up the day, okay? Let me know when you’re heading home.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Bye.” He could hear Katie’s smile when she said it, his eyes fluttering closed slightly with the thought. He had to pee. Mark bent his knees, placing his feet flat on the floor and sat up, then slowly moved to standing with a slight groan. He felt like an old dog, and even shook out his limbs to get the blood flowing again. This made him do a set jumps in the air, then jumping jacks, and a few more calisthenics just to wake up. He needed to pee and he needed a coffee. Blowing out a breath he yanked open the conference room door and moved down the hall toward the restroom, noting the buzz of activity both down the hall in the workroom and in the air outside the building. Things were happening.