The Killing Chase (Beach & Riley Book 2) (17 page)

Chapter 21

“I knew you’d miss us, Jakey,” Dozer said. “What’s the story?”

Jake quickly explained the monstrous nature of Bryan Adler and his recent physical upgrades. “Don’t underestimate this guy – he’s a seriously cunning little prick. And don’t be fooled by his size. He’s taken out seven armed spec ops guys, and left another hanging by a thread. And Alan Beach’s FBI partner’s a former Recon Marine, but Adler managed to beat him into a coma in hand to hand combat.”

“We got ya, Jakey – he’s a bad dude. No worries.”

“I’m not screwing around here, Dozer. Safety is mission priority, and confidentiality is priority number two. If my contact knew I was bringing outsiders in on this, there could be some serious trouble.”

“Don’t worry, mate – we’ll be all business when the time comes.” Priest gave his brother a playful slap across the head. “Won’t we, bro?”

“Yeah, what he said, Jakey,” Dozer deferred to his older brother. “Who’s going with us?”

“Mike’s following up on Ugolev, so it’s just the three of us for now. I’ve asked a few buddies to fly in from northern Kentucky, but they won’t be here for a few hours. We need to get up to a town called Windsor Locks while the trail’s still warm. If we run across Adler before my guys arrive, we tag him with a radioactive marker and keep our distance.”

“Come across him? How you reckon we gonna do that, mate? Seems to me there’s plenty of bush up there.”

“We call it forest here, Priest, but you’re right. I’m going to tell you about some top-secret DARPA technology, but don’t ask me questions – I barely understand it myself. Apparently, these synthetic chemicals they’ve been testing on Adler have some side effects, not the least of which is triggering massive and prolonged adrenalin release.”

“Sounds like a good recipe for a heart attack.”

“And that’s how we find him. His heart nearly exploded early in the test program, so they had to implant electronic nerve attenuation devices to both adrenal glands. The gizmos sense adrenalin overload and send out a small neutralizing current to put a lid on the glands’ output. When the devices are activated, they give off a specific frequency, but only while they’re active. I got the frequency from my contact at DARPA. Equilibrium’s programming it into a handheld tracking device for us.”

“Sounds like a bit of a stretch,” Priest said. “I mean, what if the bloke’s not very worked up? We’ll never get a ping.”

“I’m hoping a loose cannon will take care of that for us.”

“Ooh, Jakey, you’re a riddle wrapped in a mystery, wrapped in a–” Dozer started to say, but Jake cut him off:

“Everything’s a joke with you guys. DARPA’s recovery team leader, Robert Chow, went rogue after he lost all but one of his men. He told his commander he’s going to give Adler a dirt-nap. The guy’s a former Marine sniper, so I like his chances.”

“Why don’t we just leave him to it then? Good riddance to bad rubbish, I reckon.”

“I agree, but DARPA’s got millions invested in Adler. They need him back alive. Beach says this rogue sniper was hot on Adler’s tail, so the way I see it, he’ll be tracking him through the woods, looking for opportunities.”  

“Wait a minute. If this bloke’s such a brilliant sniper, how come he hasn’t been able to take Adler out yet?”

“That’s unclear. Beach saw him tag Adler in the shoulder from forty yards out. I can only assume he wants payback and purposely didn’t kill him while he had the chance. My guess is he plans to pick his target apart slowly. But like I said, he’s a former Marine sniper, so he’s right up there with the best of the best. Hopefully, every time he gets close, Adler’s adrenaline alarm clock will go off and we’ll get a ping. All we need to do is get close enough to hit him with the radioactive tag, and we can track him on our own terms until my guys get there.”

“Righto, so in the meantime, we only need to worry about a highly trained Marine sniper who’s worked in black ops for how many years? You think this bloke’s going to like us messing with his turkey-shoot? I mean, if Adler killed all
my
men, I wouldn’t appreciate the interference.”

“That’s where my guys from Kentucky come in. Albrecht is a former Ranger sniper, so he knows all the same tricks this guy does. Between us, Albrecht, and the two others on their way, we should be able to neutralize the threat from Chow, and take Adler too.”

“Sounds like a plan, mate. Let’s go!”

“Not so fast, Dozer. We need to pick up a few specialized pieces of equipment from my place first.”

*****

Dr. Holly Beach gently guided Foxx’s wife into a seat in the waiting room. Then the clinical psychologist went to hug her husband. “Is there any news?” she whispered in Beach’s ear.

“Nothing yet, and it’s been almost two hours.”

“That doesn’t really mean much. They would’ve had to scrub-in, take X-rays, calculate anesthesia levels. They haven’t been operating for the full two hours.”

Alan found his wife’s knowledge and logic reassuring. She had a way of distracting him from emotional hang-ups, and he was glad she was here. Not just for him, but for Danielle Foxx. He looked up from their embrace to realize his partner’s son was absent.

“Where’s James Jr.?” he asked his wife.

“We took him to his grandma’s house. This is no place for a two-year-old. We’ll bring him in when he can see his Dad.”

Beach shook his head, and wiped his eyes.

“He’s going to be okay, honey. Your partner’s a very strong man with a lot to live for.”

“Yeah, I know, but—” he dropped his voice, “it was so brutal. I’m really worried, Holly.”

Beach went to sit beside his partner’s wife, taking her hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Danielle.”

“How could this happen?” she said, her eyes glazed. “He’s the strongest man I know.”

Beach couldn’t explain the superhuman strength of their assailant. As far as he knew, Adler and his experimental enhancements were a matter of national security. “James is incredibly strong. That’s why he’s going to make it through this.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for being here.”

Beach patted her hand then stood up. “I’m going for coffee. Does anyone want something?”

“I’ll come with you,” Holly said, taking her husband’s arm. “I’ve given her a Xanax. She’ll be okay on her own for a few minutes.”

As they left the waiting area, DAC Talbot approached from the elevator. Beach whispered to Holly, “This is my boss. He’ll want to debrief me.”

Holly held out her hand to greet the man as Beach introduced her.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances, Mrs. Beach.”

“You and me both. I’m going to get Alan a coffee and leave you two to talk business. Would you like one?”

Talbot shook his head, and thanked her. As she left, Talbot motioned toward the end of the hallway well beyond the waiting room. “Let’s get this out of the way, Beach. We’ll need a full report later, but just give me the highlights for now.”

Beach described the events leading up to Foxx’s confrontation with Adler and the masked gunman who’d intervened at the eleventh hour. “If only he’d arrived a couple of seconds sooner, Foxx would be okay.”

“Look, Beach, I lost a partner once. I know what you’re feeling. There’s nothing you can do, so I’m taking you off the case for now. I want you to wait here with Mrs. Foxx and see what the doctors say. I’m pulling together a special SWAT unit to bring Adler in, so you just focus on getting your head right.”

“You’ll be too late,” Beach said, staring directly behind his boss.

“What do you mean?” Talbot asked, turning to see what Beach was looking at.

Deputy Director Whyley was there, giving both men a solemn look. “He means Adler will be dead before you can get your team in the air.”

“What am I missing here?”

“I’ll take it from here, Beach. Go and be with Foxx’s wife.”

Whyley watched Beach walk to the waiting room before turning back to Talbot. “What I’m about to tell you, is highly classified information. I know you’ll respect that, just as I’m respecting you by bringing you into the loop. Do we understand each other?”

“Absolutely, sir. I hope you know me well enough by now–”

“I know you’re a good man,” Whyley interrupted, “and a damned fine agent. And when you’ve heard what I have to say, you may question my values. I know your commitment to the letter of the law, but sometimes the law just doesn’t work. This is one of those times. I can assure you, Mr. Adler will never face a jury.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you can guess, Judd.”

“You can’t be serious. I mean, due respect, sir, but are you talking about murdering a suspect?”

“Adler’s not a suspect, he’s a dead man. He died over nine months ago, and dead men have no rights – especially when they try to kill two of our agents.”

“I know Adler’s pure evil, but the FBI doesn’t go around executing criminals. Every agent has taken a solemn oath to uphold the law.”

“The FBI will have nothing more to do with this matter. I think you’ll understand if you’re willing to hear me out. This is something you need to hear, but no interruptions. Are we clear?”

Talbot nodded his tacit approval.

“You’ve heard about Beach’s role in bringing down Alex Devlin last year. And you know the President pushed us to accept him into the agency. If it weren’t for that support, he would have made an unlikely candidate. Don’t get me wrong. While Agent Beach fully deserves his title and position, let’s face it, he was well beyond our usual induction age. But his support doesn’t end there. After I got the call from Director Jamison, relaying the President’s ‘request,’ I received another call. And this call held far more weight for me.

“Of course a presidential request is about as momentous as they come,” Whyley said, anticipating Talbot’s incredulity. “But this caller saved my life, and the lives of my family, at least once that I know of.

“It was a few years earlier, while I was still an Assistant Director. We were working a very complex investigation, building cases against a brutal Russian crime syndicate, and getting very close to the head man. I got home from work one night to find my house in darkness. There was no sign of the kids, and my wife was nowhere to be seen. I tried to turn on the lights, but there was no electricity. The rest of the street had power, so I started to worry.

“My apprehensions were confirmed when I rounded the corner into the living room. In the glow of street lights spilling through the living room window, I saw my family bound and gagged on the floor. Before I could grasp the situation and react, a garrote was around my neck and two big thugs loomed over my wife and kids. The man behind me with the garrote spoke in a heavy Russian accent. I’ll never forget what he said as long as I live. ‘Sit down, Mr. FBI. Now you watch your family die.’

“I panicked and tried to struggle free, but the guy was huge, and he was choking me to death. But I kept trying – I mean, I couldn’t just watch them kill my family. All of a sudden the garrote went slack, and the guy fell onto my back. I felt warm liquid flowing onto my shoulders, and I began to fall forward from the dead weight on me.

“I heard a suppressed gunshot a couple of feet from my ear, and one of the other Russians slumped to the floor, clutching his neck. I saw the third gangster reach for his gun, but a second silenced shot blew a hole through his hand. Then this tall guy in black motorcycle leathers moved like lightning from behind me and took the last Russian out with one strike to the throat. I didn’t know if it was a rescue or if my family and I were next on this guy’s list. It was terrifying – this guy was freakish. He’d taken out three seriously dangerous Russian thugs in less than three seconds, then leaned down and spoke to me like nothing had happened. There wasn’t the slightest hint of breathlessness or tension in his voice.

“He told me to tend to my family, and not to call the police or my own people. He said not to touch anything, that I’d be briefed by phone in a couple of minutes. Then he just disappeared. I rolled the heavy Russian off my back, and untied my wife and children. A minute later, my cell phone rang. It was the same calm, controlled, voice. The call lasted less than a minute and left me in no doubt that I would follow this man’s instructions to the letter.

“After what seemed an eternity, but was probably no more than twenty minutes, a crew of five men in coveralls and surgical masks let themselves into our home. These guys knew what they were doing.

“They wrapped the three bodies in plastic and took them out to a van. They wiped down fingerprints, vacuumed the floor, and scrubbed the scene of any evidence. They didn’t say a word, just worked like well orchestrated ants until they’d finished. I stopped the guy who seemed to be in charge and asked him who they were, and who the guy who saved us was. He told me I didn’t want to know. All he said was that I should follow my instructions exactly as The Surgeon had told me.

“As a lawman, you understand, I was outraged at the idea of being part of a cover-up – at first. But as my mind cleared, logical thought returned. I could see there was really no choice but to do as I was told. Aside from the fact that all evidence had been skillfully removed, this Surgeon character had saved all our lives. I owed him – everything! So, I swore I would keep the secret, for the sake of my family. And I did – right up until this day. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about this, Judd. I hope you can see why it has to remain absolutely confidential.”