Drawpoint (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 4)

by L. T. Ryan

  Fezz slapped the table. “I’ll drink to that.” He guzzled the entire beer.

  “So, you planning to stay with me in the meantime while you figure it out where you’re going?” Griff asked.

  “I appreciate the offer, Griff, but no, I’m good.”

  “Wasn’t an offer. I just figured changing your mailing address was a subtle hint.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Griff reached down and picked up his knapsack from under the table. “I mean, why am I getting your mail?” He pulled a small box from the bag and tossed it to Blake. “Blake Brier, that’s you, right?”

  Sokolov?

  Blake punched through the paper packing tape and tore open the flaps. He reached in and pulled out a velvet bag and a folded scrap of paper.

  No way.

  He unfolded the handwritten note and read it out loud. “I hope these find you well. Please know that I love you all. You’ll do amazing things. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I know we’ll see each other again. I have faith. P.S. Mick, make sure you save one. In case you finally ever work up the courage to ask. -Haeli.”

  “Mick,” Fezz said. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Blake tipped the bag, pouring a few of the raw stones into his open palm.

  The four of them sat, dumbfounded.

  “Gentlemen,” Blake said, “it’s time to go to work.”

  ***

  The Blake Brier experience continues in CONTRAIL, available for pre-order now!

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0983T62RN

  Or turn the page to read a sample of CONTRAIL.

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  CONTRAIL

  Blake Brier Book Five

  by L.T. Ryan & Gregory Scott

  Copyright © 2021 by L.T. Ryan, Liquid Mind Media, LLC, & Gregory Scott. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  CONTRAIL PROLOGUE

  “Do you see her?” Christian Krehbiel peered over the railing and scanned the vast rotunda of the Charles De Gaulle International Airport terminal.

  “Not yet,” Levi Farr said. “Be patient, she’s coming.”

  “Can’t you call your people? The ones with access to the tracker.”

  “Won’t matter. The chip reacts to a satellite signal. As long as she’s inside the building, it won’t register. For that we’d need the mobile unit. But her last location was on the premises. She’s being careful, but she’ll pop out. She’ll have to if she wants to get to her flight.”

  “Unless we already missed her.” Krehbiel scoffed.

  “We didn’t miss her. I’m sure of it. I could pick her out anywhere. Believe me, we are well acquainted.”

  “My people on the train said they were heavily disguised. I wouldn’t be surprised if they changed their look again.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll know her when I see her.”

  “What is it with you?” Krehbiel asked. “Why are you helping me on this? What’s the angle?”

  Levi turned to Krehbiel. “Why? What are you worried about? What I’ll want in return? Don’t worry, you’ve already sold me your soul, this one’s a freebie.”

  The statement stung Krehbiel in the gut. It was the way Levi put it. Sold his soul. But that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t know what was worse, what would have happened to him if Levi didn’t intervene, or being indebted to a depraved maniac—never knowing when he was going to come to collect.

  “Just keep your eyes on the escalators,” Krehbiel snarled.

  In all the years he’d known Levi, he’d never liked him. No. Hated him. But until this week, he had almost forgotten how much.

  “But since you mentioned it, there is one thing I’m going to need from you in return. One minor little thing. For my trouble.”

  Here it comes.

  “I knew it. What?”

  “The name I’ve given you, isn’t her real name. I made it up. In fact, when you capture her, you can be sure she will have rock-solid identification on her. That will not be her real name, either. But, even knowing that, you will process her under whatever information she gives you. You will not question it. You will not mention it. To anyone. Agreed?”

  “Why?”

  “That is my business. I’m giving you the win on this, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “What’s her real name?”

  Levi let out a snide laugh. “Haeli. And there she is, right on schedule.” Levi pointed at one of the glass tubes, crisscrossing the center of the terminal.. “Right there. Blonde wig. Getting on the escalator.”

  Krehbiel keyed his radio and shouted into it.

  “We’ve got a visual. Escalator D. All agents, move in. Move in!”

  CONTRAIL CHAPTER 1

  Ninety-Nine. One Hundred.

  Haeli collapsed and rolled onto her back, sprawling her arms out to her side. The rubberized concrete floor was cool and it felt good against her quivering triceps.

  In her opinion, there was nothing like five sets of a hundred push-ups to clear one’s head.

  There were more than a few things weighing on her mind. Being incarcerated, not the least of them. But the truth was, adjusting to being locked up wasn’t as difficult as she’d imagined. Then again, she had to admit, two weeks wasn’t exactly “hard time.”

  A few more years, or decades, were likely to change her perspective. Right now, the only thing she could do was take one day at a time.

  After she was apprehended in Paris, she was transported back to Switzerland, where she was taken to the Canton Police headquarters to be processed. The lead investigator, a guy named Christian Krehbiel from the Federal Criminal Police, had tried to question her, but she refused to cooperate until she had secured a lawyer. Judging by his reaction, he didn’t get that type of response very often.

  She was brought before a judge, who remanded her to pre-trial prison, as it was called, until the conclusion of the trial. Krehbiel had made a strong argument that she was uncooperative, a danger to society, and a flight risk. She couldn’t give him too much credit for his success. All of these things were a hundred percent true. If she’d had even a sliver of an opportunity, she’d already be a ghost, never to be seen again.

  So, here she sat. Gefängnis Zürich—Zurich Prison.

  Halei had been to many prisons, both official and not so official. Compared to those, Zurich Pre-trial prison was like a seaside resort. Clean, spacious and laid back, it bordered on the
edge of comfort.

  Her room had two beds, two desks, a shelving unit and a half-bath that was partitioned off by a half-wall for privacy. It looked like one of the staged kids’ rooms at IKEA. And the best part— as of yet, she didn’t have a roommate.

  The guards were easy-going, by prison guard standards. Many of them were males, who moved back and forth between the small women’s wing and the much larger men’s portion of the prison. From overhearing bits of their conversations, she got the sense the men’s side was a less desirable assignment, which meant the ones who nabbed the post were generally in a good mood.

  As a testament to a low crime rate or a reluctance about incarcerating violators, there were only accommodations for eighteen women at this facility. The current occupancy was sixteen, but the numbers changed on a daily basis. When Haeli first arrived, there were only ten.

  The first few days were bleak. Mandatory quarantine, following a series of medical exams and tests, kept her in her cell around the clock. But then she started to settle in.

  After the first week, Haeli was given phone time. Ten minutes per day. She had used hers to call Blake, of course. Every day, like clockwork.

  Hearing Blake’s voice boosted her confidence as much as her mood. Especially after getting a cryptic confirmation that he had received the package with the diamonds. It would have killed her to learn that her sacrifice had been for nothing. And knowing they were received allowed her to dream of all the things the team would be able to do with the money.

  Blake continued to assure her that he was working on finding the best lawyer for her situation. He had told her to “sit tight.” As if there were any other choice.

  She trusted Blake, more than anyone in the world. He had travelled halfway around the world to rescue her. Turned his life upside down to include her. He was the smartest, most tenacious person she knew, and she had no doubt he would come through.

  So, she would sit tight. Until there was something solid. A plan to set in motion.

  Beyond the more creative approaches, there remained one base option. She could take her chances with the judge. Or judges, in this case.

  In Switzerland, she had come to understand, there was no jury system. The accused stood trial before a judge or panel of judges, depending on the severity of the crime and the jurisdiction. Haeli wasn’t sure if this was a positive or a negative. Or a little of both.

  Once she was able to meet with the attorney, she’d get a better sense of what her chances were. She had a few ideas about how to play it, given what she believed the police had on her, but she wouldn’t be talking to anyone until the plan was fully hashed out.

  Shaking out her arms, she flipped to her stomach to start her next set.

  One. Two.

  A buzzing signaled that her door was about to open. Haeli sat up as a female guard, with a tight bun on the top of her head, entered.

  “Let’s go, it’s meal time.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then don’t eat. But you’re going. Everyone goes, no exceptions. You know this, Katlyn”

  “All right,” Haeli sighed. “Let’s eat.”

  Haeli got to her feet and followed the guard to the cafeteria area at the far end of the ward.

  The room had six tables, each with four stools, all bolted to the floor. A large open window allowed workers inside the kitchen to serve trays of food to the inmates, lined up in the sitting area. Based on the frenetic activity inside the commercial sized kitchen, she figured that the men’s cafeteria was on the other side.

  Haeli fell in behind a red headed girl who arrived in the queue at about the same time. The girl turned to face her.

  “I wonder what’s on the menu today,” the redhead said.

  “Does it matter?” Haeli replied.

  “I guess not.” She giggled. “Here, you go ahead of me, you were here first.”

  “That’s alright, I’m in no rush.”

  “I insist. Please, go ahead.”

  Haeli decided not to engage in an argument. She stepped in front of the redhead and kept her back to her.

  After picking up her tray of what looked like some type of mashed potato concoction, she picked an empty table and sat.

  Thus far, she had managed to limit conversation and keep to herself, whenever possible. For the most part, the other women had left her alone. That was, until now.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” The redhead sat without waiting for an answer. “My name’s Gigi, what’s yours?”

  Uh.

  “Haeli. Well, Katlyn. But everyone calls me Haeli. It’s my middle name.”

  Haeli had taken on so many aliases in the last month, she was starting to lose track.

  “Nice to meet you, Haeli. First time?”

  “Yep.” Haeli met Gigi’s stare. After an awkward few moments, she gave in to the pressure to reciprocate. “You?”

  “Here? Yes. But I won’t be around long. Already plead guilty. They gave me a bonny deal. Six months. Wouldn’t have got that back home.”

  Haeli knew the woman would expect her to ask the obvious question. And although Haeli didn’t want to encourage further conversation, she was curious about what kind of crime garnered a six month sentence. “What’d you get pinched for?”

  “I set fire to my ex-boyfriend’s apartment. And his car.”

  “You got six months for burning down an apartment building? I’m guessing no one was inside.”

  “No. He was inside. Which is how he put it out before it could really get going. No one was hurt. But the car burned to a pile of soot. Black as the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat, I tell ya. He loved that car too. Bastard.”

  There was a moral to the story. Haeli wasn’t sure what it was to Gigi, but to her, it meant there was still hope of getting out of there before she was ninety.

  “Anyway,” Gigi continued, “he was an arse and he deserved it. I moved all the way out here for him and then I come home to find some filthy little lass in my bed.”

  “Ah.” Haeli smiled. “I’m surprised they locked you up at all.”

  “Right?” Gigi laughed.

  Gigi’s personality was unnerving. How could she be so bubbly? If this were an episode of the Twighlight Zone, there would be a sorority house somewhere with stinky, dark cells and rusty iron bars. In some ways, she felt she’d be more at ease getting beaten and thrown in “the hole” on a daily basis.

  “How ‘bout you? What’d you do?”

  “Well, Gigi, I haven’t decided if I’ve done anything yet. But if I make one of those sweetheart deals, I’ll let you know.”

  Gigi’s eyes squinted. After a pause, she giggled again. “Oh. Of course.”

  Haeli poked at the pile of mush with her spork, still undecided if she was going to eat it. For the first time since she arrived, she felt the magnitude of how long even one more day in this place would be.

  “Don’t look now,” Gigi said, “here comes Hilda.”

  “Who’s H—”

  “Look at this.” An enormous woman approached. Tall, busty and blonde would normally be the traits used to describe a bombshell babe, but not in this case. Hilda was—how would she say it in polite terms?— hard to look at. Maybe the most homely woman Haeli had ever seen. A true brute. And her thick German accent only added to the effect.

  “Hilda’s my new roommate.” Gigi swallowed hard. “Just came in this morning. She’s a regular. Right Hilda?”

  Two other girls had filed in behind Hilda. The intimidation squad, Haeli figured. At about a hundred pounds a peice, the two crackheads, or tweakers, or whatever they were, presented as more pathetic than anything else.

  Hilda slapped her hairy man-hand on the table and leaned between Gigi and Haeli. “Who said you could talk to my girl?”

  Haeli smiled. “You got in this morning and she’s already your girl?

  “She is if I say she is.”

  “Well aren’t you a charmer,” Haeli goaded.

  Gigi shifted her eyes toward the table.
It was subtle, but it spoke volumes about the situation she was dealing with.

  “And here I thought I was your girl,” Haeli said.

  “You’ve got a big mouth, newbie. Where you from? You’re an American, aren’t you.”

  “I’m from a lot of places. And you? No, let me guess. Indonesia?”

  “You think you’re cute. But you’ve messed with the wrong bitch. Now you’ve gotta make it right.”

  Finally. Now it’s almost a proper prison.

  “And what did you have in mind?”

  “I’m reasonable. And I’d hate to mess up such a pretty face. How ‘bout we make a trade. Her, for you.”

  Haeli couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

  Hilda’s lips twisted.

  “Are you sweet on me? Haeli grinned. “Is that what this is about? Well, I’m flattered. Really, I am. But unfortunately, I’m spoken for, so, it’s not gonna work out. Tell you what, you can have my meal and we’ll call it even.”

  The two minions behind Hilda looked equal parts shocked and amused.

  Hilda planted her other hand on the table and, with straight arms, leaned in close until she was nose to nose with Haeli. A disgusting noise emanated from her throat as she hawked up a wad of phlegm and let it pour from her mouth into Haeli’s dish. “Watch your back bitch.”

  Haeli feigned a frown and placed her hands on the table just behind Hilda’s. With all the nonchalance she could muster, she said, “See now, you’ve ruined a perfectly good meal. I was really looking forward to enjoying it.”

  In one fluid motion, Haeli slid off the stool, dragging her hands under Hilda’s and knocking out her support.

  Hilda’s center of gravity shifted, sending her downward and driving her face into the pile of cold potatoes, ground meat, and phlegm.