Union Station, Washington DC, January, 2078, Friday…
Most members on Caitlin's country-wide task force ran informants. A tip from Seattle might have repercussions in Memphis, for example, so there was a lot of net traffic that went back and forth. Most of the leads were bogus but the agents had to vet them.
Caitlin had her own informants that she had been running even before she took over the task force. Both of them were deep undercover and neither was an agent. Both were in DC. This sometimes provided an excuse to go home early.
She pulled into the parking lot of Union Station and rushed inside as if she were meeting a train. Once inside she ignored the 19th century elegance of the old station and headed straight for the food court area in the back that stood between the great hall and the tracks. Although they were maglev tracks now, the station hadn't changed that much from the last century when it had been refurbished.
She spotted her man calmly eating strudel and sipping coffee at a table of a little bakery. He was the only client since the bakery mainly served early morning commuters, not late afternoon ones.
Her Christian Soldiers informant motioned to his treat as she sat down.
"Want anything?"
"I'll get a hot dog on the way out. What's up?"
"Something amusing has happened."
"They're not onto you, are they?"
"No. I'm just a courier. No one pays any attention to me." He smiled and leaned forward far enough that she could smell the coffee and strudel on his breath. His voice lowered to a whisper. "There's a hit order out on you specifically by name and on any of your team members, although they weren't named."
"And you waited until our regular meeting to tell me that? And why do you find that amusing?"
The informant smiled. He wasn't about to squirm under her steady glare. He knew her too well.
"The answer to both questions is the same: I know you can take care of yourself. Still, watch your back."
Surprised, she studied the craggy black face. Alan Brady was a huge man. Well over one hundred thirty-five kilos and two meters tall, he could have been a retired NFL lineman. Except that he was a retired cop deep undercover in the Soldiers organization. She knew him as a good man, a man with a humor, but he was also a man with love of country and an intense dislike for those who were tearing it apart. He was also deeply religious. After leaving DC metro he had become a minister.
"Man, you're kidding me. They wouldn't dare."
"A bust your team made in Fresno pissed somebody off. I thought you would want to know."
"Yeah, thanks."
