Free Infringement by Benjamin Westbrook

Charge, John Bleeker. While Declan had been in Bleeker’s office countless times as a kid, when it belonged to his dad and Ellen was his dad’s secretary, he hadn’t been back inside during his relatively short time since being assigned to the field office out of the academy. Bleeker impressed Declan as all business. He was congenial and usually pleasant, but one didn’t have to dig too deep or pay too much attention to realize Bleeker wasn’t particularly interested in making good friends with the agents underneath him, many of whom, like Kevin Cameron, were older and had substantially more service time with the Bureau than he did.
    “So, what can I do for you, Parker,” he said as Declan closed the door behind him. “Please, take a seat.”
    Declan looked thoughtfully around the office, trying to remember what it had looked like when his dad had been the Special Agent in Charge years earlier. Bleeker noticed Declan taking in the surroundings and said, “I guess you haven’t been in here to see me before have you? We always meet in one of the conference rooms.”
    “No, I haven’t,” Declan replied. “But I used to come in here all the time when I was a kid.”
    Bleeker thought for a second. “Oh, that’s right, your father headed up this field office at one point, didn’t he?”
    “He did.”
    “Special Agent Ron Parker, correct?”
    “That’s right.”
    “He was responsible for some pretty big cases during his career. I’ve heard he was a very good agent.”
    “One of the best,” Declan responded.
    “So, what can I do for you, Parker?”
    “Sorry, I won’t take up much of your time.”
    “Not a problem, Parker. You have my ear.”
    “Well, I received a call a few days ago through local law enforcement, based on a ‘See Something, Say Something’ tip they got. I ran the guy through our systems and he came back clean. No big deal, but I did find two grandfathered pre-ban AR-15’s registered to him through NICS.”
    “I see.”
    “Like I said, not seemingly a big deal as I know there are still plenty of pre-ban AR-15’s out there, but I wanted to get more info on him, like ammo purchases, internet search records, etc., you know, the basic stuff.”
    “Of course.”
    “So, I put in a PRISM request through the regional fusion center and he came back SCI.”
    “SCI?”
    “Sensitive Compartmentalized…”
    “I know what SCI means, Parker.”
    “Of course, sir. I’m sorry. Anyway, he’s SCI and the fusion center won’t give me anything on him at all because I’m not authorized. It just seems strange that someone who comes up clean in our various databases would be classified SCI by the NSA or Homeland or whomever. It makes me wonder if we’re missing something.”
    “Doubtful. He could be SCI for any number of reasons,” Bleeker replied.
    “That’s what Kevin said too.”
    “You’ve discussed this with Special Agent Cameron?”
    “Only briefly. He was around when I took the call and he recommended that I put in the PRISM request.”
    “I see.”
    “I think there’s something here. I tailed this guy Stanton…”
    “Stanton?”
    “Yes, sorry, that’s the suspect’s name, David Timothy Stanton. I tailed Stanton late last night for a few hours.”
    “You’ve set up surveillance on him?”
    “Not exactly,” Declan replied. “I was able to obtain his address, vehicle type, registration, DL photo and most of the standard stuff through our systems, so I’ve been staking out his apartment for a few nights. Late last night, after I’d already been outside for an hour or so, he came out, so I followed him to one of the strip clubs just outside of the city. He never went in, just sat in his truck for two hours or so until the place closed down, then he followed a girl who came out back to what I believe was her apartment.”
    “Did he do anything?”
    “No, but I think he planned to. He followed her from the club to her apartment. I have the address and her plates and plan