They always worked moving surveillance like this. Basic surveillance cameras at the target’s residence or work to make bigger-picture assessments about his movement. For the actual surveillance work, they employed a minimum of three cars: a control car to coordinate the overall effort and rotate into the active surveillance as needed; a car with two operatives so they could immediately follow their target on foot until the other cars could find parking and join the effort; and a car with a lone operative. If they had additional personnel, they’d add more lone operatives. This stretched their surveillance capability while provoking the least suspicion. Most cars on the road at any given time had a single occupant.

If he had unlimited resources, he’d put a few male-female teams together. Couples—real or fake—were often overlooked entirely by countersurveillance teams when forced to analyze more complex, dynamic settings like a crowded park or packed highway. By necessity, countersurveillance efforts became a probabilities game in those scenarios. A basic risk-assessment calculation, with couples at the very bottom of the list, due to the real and perceived complexities of two people working together seamlessly without giving themselves away. Real indeed, he thought, squeezing Jolene’s hand.

Less than a block past the stoplight, Jolene parked them in front of a 7-Eleven, parallel with Baltimore Avenue and pointed north, where they could spot Gray if he decided to use the bus stop south of the Starbucks. A pair of binoculars ensured that. The only matter still in question was who would get to ride the bus with Gray. Marital instinct told him he’d pulled the short straw. Thirty minutes later, Gray’s car still hadn’t moved from the strip mall parking lot.

“He’s been there for a while,” said Jolene.

A half hour wasn’t unusual for a single person at a coffee shop. You sit and relax with your drink. Read a book. Scroll through your phone. The Starbucks was close to campus, so maybe he was checking out the ladies. All within the range of possibility, but the longer it went past thirty minutes, the more it piqued his suspicion.

“Couldn’t hurt to drive past once,” said Rudd. “Just to make sure.”

Jolene shifted the SUV into drive and had them in the Starbucks parking lot a minute later, well exceeding the posted speed limit the entire time. He’d started to guide her toward the location of Gray’s vehicle, which sat one row over, directly in front of Starbucks, when one of the trackers started moving. The second tracker remained in place, which was entirely possible. The GPS trackers were motion activated to conserve batteries and reported their position every fifteen seconds.