Chapter 33 Chapter 33: Going Public
The article went live at 6 AM. By 8 AM, all of the major news organizations across the nation were publishing versions of Alex's story on Marcus Webb, the serial killer's accomplice who had reappeared to attack individuals who were associated with both the initial inquiry and the subsequent veteran support initiatives.
My phone began ringing before I was even awake.
"Rachel, what were you thinking?" Congressman Martinez's voice had a tinge of political desperation. "The Veterans Affairs Committee is getting calls from the media inquiring if our programs are connected to serial murders."
"Congressman, the programs are not connected to murders. They're being attacked by a person who wishes to bring down the work that we've done."
"The difference won't make any difference to public opinion. I've got committee members wondering if we should close down until this threat is over.
I felt my stomach lurch. "You can't close down programs that are helping veterans because of someone's revenge.
"I can't let veterans be placed in danger by programs that have attracted the notice of a killer.".
Having hung up, I learned that perhaps Alex and I had assumed wrongly. Instead of pushing Webb out into the open, we could have given politicians a reason to eliminate the veteran programs entirely.
An hour later, Dr. Williams arrived with coffee and bad news.
"The FBI is not happy about all this publicity. They'd prefer to handle serial killer cases free of outside pressure and press speculation."
"A pity," I said. "Webb's worked in the dark three years. Time to bring this out of the shadows."
"Rachel, I have something else. We've been discussing the note that was left with Dr. Reynolds's body. 'The doctor couldn't save them. Neither can you.' It's not just about the murders. It's about the veteran programs."
"What are you saying?"
"I think Webb is accusing the veterans support programs of bringing sense to Harrison's offenses. Instead of Harrison being etched in history as a serial killer, he's now a footnote in a story of healing from trauma and community healing."
Alex looked up from his computer, where he was monitoring coverage of the story. "So Webb is trying to reclaim the narrative? Make this murder and terror instead of healing and hope?"
"Right. And by targeting the programs, he's forcing us to have to choose between saving lives and continuing the work."
"There has to be another way," I said. "We can't let him call the shots."
My phone rang, and it was Tommy Chen.
"Rachel, I just saw the news. Is it true that somebody's attacking people who are associated with the veteran programs?"
"Tough, we're taking precautions, but yes. Whoever killed Dr. Reynolds seems determined to destroy the network of support."
"What can we do?"
"No different. Continue running the programs, help veterans, stay vigilant. We're not going to let one person dismantle what we've accomplished."
"Rachel, the guys around here in Chicago would like to help. We've had military training, we know how to do security, we can provide guard for the programs ourselves."
"Tommy, I appreciate the offer, but we can't have veterans acting as armed security for peer support groups. That changes the entire dynamic."
"So then what? We just stand around and wait and hope he attacks other people?"
I saw that Tommy was talking about the source of the issue. We could not lock up scores of sites in dozens of cities. We could not turn healing spaces into bunkers. We had to locate Webb and shut it down.
"Tommy, what if we used the veteran network differently? Not for security, but for intel. You guys are connected across multiple cities, you notice things unusual in the way of routine, unfamiliar faces, people asking peculiar questions."
"You want us to be your eyes and ears?"
"I want you to be what you are already—a neighborhood looking out for each other. But with special attention to anyone who seems too interested in the programs or the participants."
"We can do that. Rachel, we've got veterans in every city where there are programs. If Webb is traveling, visiting different places, someone will spot him."
When I hung up, I turned to face Alex and Dr. Williams. "We have to turn this around. Rather than Webb stalking us, we stalk him."
"How?"
"He's stalked us for three years, learning about our research, our private lives, our routines. He has no clue about the veteran network. He has no clue that the people he's trying to intimidate are disciplined, organized, and surveillance and intel collection veterans."
Dr. Williams frowned. "You're talking about employing military veterans as a tool for investigation."
"I'm talking about employing an existing network within a community to identify threats to that community."
Alex went back to typing. "I can establish with veteran leaders in every city, establish protocols for communications, create a reporting mechanism."
"Alex, you're not law enforcement. Neither am I anymore."
"No, but we're the ones Webb is really after. He's murdering other individuals in order to get to us. Maybe it's time we stopped letting the police do everything and took some responsibility for ending him."
We held a conference call with seasoned leaders from twelve cities that day. Tommy in Chicago, Gunny Santos in Los Angeles, Captain Morrison in Boston, Kevin Martinez in Denver, and others who had become instrumental players in the peer support network.
"Now this is what we know," I told them. "Marcus Webb, late thirties, brown hair, average build, most likely with fake identities. He's been tracking our every move for three years. He knows the programs, the people involved, perhaps our schedules and routines."
"What does he want?" Gunny Santos asked.
"We think he's committed to phasing out the veteran programs by creating enough fear and political pressure to shut them down. He has already managed to get some politicians to question whether the programs need to be shut down."
"That's not happening," Captain Morrison replied bluntly. "These programs save lives. We're not shutting up shop because one man is determined to create fear."
"Good. But let's be smart about how we go about it. Webb has his strengths—surprise, mobility, the ability to choose when and where to strike. But we have strengths too."
"What kind of?"
"Numbers, communication, and the fact that he doesn't realize you're looking for him."
Over the course of the ensuing hour, we designed what Alex called "Operation Overwatch"—a network of intelligence made up of veterans that would monitor for odd activity surrounding program locations, unusual interest in participant information, and anyone asking questions about me or Alex.
"This's not about detective-work," I emphasized. "This's about community protection. You notice something that don't smell right, you call it in. You don't take over, you don't do your own investigation, you don't become heroes."
"Got it," replied Tommy. "But Rachel, these veterans have been taking care of themselves since before there were official programs. We're just adding structure to something that's already happening."
After the call was finished, Dr. Williams appeared distressed. "Rachel, I have to ask: Are you sure you want to involve civilians in a serial killer investigation?"
"I'm sure that Webb's made it personal by targeting the veteran community. And I'm sure that community is better equipped than most to look out for itself if it's given proper coordination and communication."
"And what if something does go wrong? Someone gets hurt trying to help?"
I thought of Dr. Reynolds, those veterans in Chicago grieving her loss, those politicians who would sacrifice programs that were saving lives every day.
"Dr. Williams, something's already wrong. People are already being hurt. The question is whether or not we're going to let Webb hijack or whether we're going to resist with everything we have."
That evening, Alex and I reviewed the plan. Instead of waiting for Webb to move again, we were establishing a system that would be able to identify him before he picked his next victim. Instead of reacting to his schedule, we were setting our own rhythm of operations.
"Alex, what if this doesn't work. What if Webb is too smart, too careful?"
"Then at least we tried. And Rachel, even if we don't catch him, we've strengthened the veteran support community, Communication between cities is improved, and we've shown that the community can police itself."
"That's something."
"It's more than something. It's what Webb does not want—veterans taking care of veterans, programs hanging in there, the work getting better in spite of his attempts to dismantle."
While I was preparing for bed at the FBI safe house, I realized we were no longer chasing a murderer. We were defending a way of life, a healing methodology, a society that had been constructed from trauma so that others could survive theirs.
The one which had united me and Alex was reminding us once more: sometimes the biggest battles aren't fought against the bad guys. Sometimes they're fought to protect the good that we've managed to create in the world.