The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series: Books 1-3: The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series Boxset Book 1

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The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series: Books 1-3: The Jordan Quest FBI Thriller Series Boxset Book 1 Page 50

by Gary Winston Brown


  “Fuck you,” Taras said.

  The helicopter.

  “No, that’s definitely not it,” Egan said. “It’s ‘Who is The Company.”’ But in light of your current predicament, I can appreciate how you might consider ‘fuck you’ to be a reasonable answer.”

  Taras gathered his nerve. He tried to run.

  Egan raised his hand. Pink light shimmered on the pool deck. Taras’ feet locked in place. He looked down, then up at Egan. “Jesus Christ,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Egan responded. “Pretty cool, huh? The military always gets the best toys.”

  The look on Taras’ face revealed the sheer terror he felt inside. “This can’t be possible,” Taras replied. “You can’t be possible.”

  Egan walked around the pool and faced him. “Trust me,” the Commander said. “I’m quite possible and this is very real. You never answered my question about Paige Merrick. You remember her, don’t you?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because you and the people you work for murdered her.”

  Taras struggled to free his feet, couldn’t.

  “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Maybe not personally. But you arranged for her to be transferred out of the country.”

  “That was Granger, not me.”

  “But you knew what would happen to her.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “It was to Dr. Merrick.”

  Taras smiled at Egan. “Paige Merrick,” he said. “Now I remember her. She was one sweet piece of ass. I’d heard of her dad but never knew him. Was he doing her too?”

  Egan clenched his fist.

  Verenich’s feet left the ground as Egan lifted him high into the air. The attorney screamed as he floated high above the pool. Egan released him. He fell into the salt water.

  “Motherfucker!” Taras yelled.

  “I told you,” Egan said, “the military always gets the best toys. If you thought that was neat, you’re gonna love this.” Stage three of the GENESIS project, Integration, was now complete. Ben Egan had become the physical embodiment of Channeler and LEEDA and was now the most technologically advanced biological weapon known to man. The only one of his kind in the world. The ultimate super-soldier.

  He opened his hands and directed Channeler’s energy into the pool.

  Around Taras, the salt water began to conduct the strange pink light. Bubbles floated up from the bottom of the pool. Steam rose from its surface. The water was becoming warmer. Taras tried to swim but the pink light held him in place.

  “Please, don’t kill me!” Taras pleaded. “I don’t want to die. Not like this!”

  Frightened out of their treetop perches by Taras’ cries, a flock of birds took flight. They glided above the mist momentarily, then descended into the jungle, out of sight.

  The water temperature began to climb. Smaller bubbles gave way to larger ones. The water started to simmer.

  Taras began to scream.

  The pink-hued water began to boil.

  As fast as they formed on Taras’ body, blisters puffed, oozed and burst. A pungent scum spread across the surface of the water. Sinew separated from bone as Taras’ body dismantled itself. What was left of the attorney fell apart and drifted down, forming a layer of human sediment on the bottom of the pool.

  Taras Verenich, aka Taras Antipov, was no more.

  Egan broke the connection. He stared in fascination at his hands. Dr. Merrick would have been proud. Integration had been a success. He looked down at Verenich’ remains. “It’s over, Doc,” he said. “Rest in peace.”

  The view of the jungle valley was peaceful, serene. Egan walked to the bar cart and poured himself another Scotch.

  The remote control for the satellite television in Taras’ poolside bedroom lay on the bar cart. He turned it on.

  Verenich had been watching KTLA News in Los Angeles. A reporter stood in front of the remains of the fallen Pyramid, commenting on the bizarre events that had taken place at the University. The anchor thanked her and moved on to the next story:

  “Turning to local news, police are investigating a kidnapping of five of their own. After receiving what he stated as a credible tip from a protected source, retired Los Angeles Police Chief James Kenton requested the LAPD investigate an abandoned furniture factory located in Yorba Linda. The responding officers found several missing police vehicles inside the factory, in addition to a stolen van. But here is where the story takes a bizarre turn. Found within a locked room in the factory were the missing police officers, as well as several teenagers being held in their custody. Yorba Linda P.D. would not offer an explanation as to how the officers ended up locked in the room. Chief Kenton further advised that a knife, found in the factory, has been connected to a series of brutal murders dating back five years. A media blackout on the case has been ordered pending further investigation.”

  Egan smiled. Kevin and Lauren were safe. Eventually, the truth about Colin Thackery would also come out.

  The news anchor continued his report:

  “In further news, a woman was found shot to death, execution-style, in a parking garage at Los Angeles International Airport. LAPD homicide is investigating. The victim’s name is being withheld. A downtown Los Angeles law office was the scene of a multiple homicide this morning. Police are investigating an apparent mass murder that took the lives of thirteen staff members. The principal of the firm, immigration attorney Taras Verenich, is being sought for questioning. Authorities are quick to point out that Mr. Verenich is not considered to be a suspect at this time but is rather a person of interest in the case. Anyone with information on the whereabouts of Taras Verenich is urged to call local police or Crime Stoppers.”

  Egan switched off the television and walked into the bedroom. He opened Taras’ closet, pulled a number of items from their hangers and threw them onto the bed, along with a backpack he found in the corner. Although Taras was slightly heavier than Egan, the two men were about the same height and physical build. The fit of the clothes was adequate, as too was a pair of hiking boots. Egan stuffed the clothes into the knapsack and threw it over his shoulder. He stared at the SIG P226 pistol, silencer and clip he had tossed on top of his old clothes. He would have no further use for the weapon.

  Egan searched the room. Behind the mirror, he found Taras’ wall safe, pulled the door cleanly off its hinges, removed several stacks of bills, and stuffed the money into the knapsack. On the shelf in the safe he placed the gun, silencer, spare ammo clip and the spent casings he had retrieved from the bedroom of the Rosenfeld assignment.

  He walked into the kitchen, rummaged through the pantry, filled the knapsack with enough provisions to last him a few days, and walked back outside to the pool deck.

  The surface of the pool reflected a passing cloud.

  Egan looked up. The heat of the sun felt good on his face.

  The successful completion of his mission felt good on his soul.

  He thought of Merrick’s last words to him: start over. That had now become necessary. A DARPA tactical team was already being assembled. They would come looking for him. Of that he was certain. Perhaps one day they would find him. In the meantime, his training had taught him how to avoid capture and stay off the radar. He was now better equipped to do that than any other man on the planet.

  The jungle seemed like a good place to disappear.

  125

  MARISSA DeSOLA POURED a thin glaze of sweet Thai sauce over four perfectly prepared salmon steaks, plated the fish with generous servings of fresh steamed vegetables, and carried the meals into the dining room.

  “Thank you,” Jordan said. She turned to Emma and Aiden. Her children were seated beside her on opposite sides of the table. “Hey, you two. Manners.”

  The children answered. “Thank you, Marissa.”

  “Better,” Jordan said.

  Marissa smiled. To Jordan, she said, “Wine?”

  “Sure,” Jordan said. “It’s been a crazy
day.”

  “In that case, I’ll bring the bottle,” Marissa said.

  Jordan laughed.

  Marissa returned to the kitchen, opened the wine cooler, selected a Cakebread Cellars Chardonnay Reserve, and poured two glasses.

  The front gate intercom buzzed.

  Marissa pressed the speaker button. “Hello?”

  “I’m looking for an FBI agent by the name of Jordan Quest,” the visitor said. “She’s about five-foot-five and pretty handy with a nine-millimeter. Anybody there fit that description?”

  Jordan recognized Chris’ voice over the intercom and called out to Marissa. “Ask him if he’s got a warrant.”

  Chris heard Jordan’s voice and answered. “Hilarious,” he replied. “Don’t make come back here with a SWAT team.”

  “What do you think, kids?” Jordan said. “Should we let him in?”

  Emma and Aiden called out. “Yes!”

  Marissa laughed. “One second, Agent Hanover. I’ll buzz you in.”

  Chris waited for the iron gates to part then drove up to the front entrance of Quest Manor and parked under the portico. Marissa met him at the door.

  “So nice to see you again, Agent Hanover.”

  Chris gave Jordan’s housekeeper a hug. “You too, Marissa,” he said. “And enough with the ‘Agent Hanover’. It’s Chris.”

  Marissa laughed. “Okay, Chris. Come on in.”

  Chris smiled. “So where are the little hellions?”

  Marissa teased him with a stern look. “The children were just sitting down to dinner.”

  “And their mom?”

  Marissa helped Chris off with his jacket and hung it in the hall closet. “In the dining room. Care to join us?”

  Chris shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I just wanted to drop by, say hi to the kids, and have a quick chat with J.”

  Jordan walked around the corner into the vestibule. Emma and Aiden rushed past her. “Chris!” they cried.

  Chris dropped to his knees. The children launched themselves into his arms. “Hey, monsters!”

  Emma threw her arms around his neck and squeezed.

  “Whoa,” Chris said. “That’s a killer choke hold you’ve got there!”

  Emma let up on the pressure. “I’ve been practicing what you taught us.”

  “Apparently I’m an excellent instructor,” Chris replied.

  “Yeah,” Aiden said, “except I’m the one she practices on.” He put his hands around his neck, fake strangling himself.

  Chris stage-whispered in Emma’s ear. “Are you keeping your brother in line?”

  “Yes!” Emma replied.

  “Good,” Chris said. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you guys. You ready?”

  “Yes!” the children answered.

  “What are you up to?” Jordan asked.

  “No good, as usual,” Chris said. To the children he said, “You two need to cover your eyes, real tight. No peeking. Got it?”

  “Okay!”

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  “We won’t,” Emma said. She parted her fingers.

  Chris pointed his finger at her. “Cheater!” he teased. “Close ‘em up!”

  Jordan snuck up behind her children and covered their eyes. Emma squealed with delight. Aiden laughed.

  Chris ran down the front steps to his car, opened the passenger door and lifted the precious package into his arms. As he walked up the steps, Marissa gasped. Chris put his finger to his lips. Shh!

  Jordan smiled.

  “You guys ready?”

  “Ready!”

  “Okay. Open ‘em!”

  In his arms, Chris held Lucy, the Golden Retriever pup he and Jordan had found hiding alone and afraid in the back of the closet at the Rosenfeld murder scene. Lucy wore a bright red bow around her neck. She let out a nervous cry followed by a big yawn.

  “A puppy!” the kids yelled. “Is she for us?”

  Chris looked at Jordan. “You said the kids would love a dog. And this little lady needs a good home, especially after all she’s been through. Forensics has cleared her. They also ran her chip, contacted her veterinarian, and explained the situation. There is a bit of paperwork that needs to be completed but he’s fine with transferring her medical records over to you. If you want to adopt Lucy, she’s all yours.”

  The Retriever sniffed the air, recognized Jordan’s scent, and cried happily. She struggled to be free of Chris and dog-paddled into Jordan’s arms.

  “Of course, we’ll take her,” Jordan laughed. It was hard for her to get the words out between Lucy’s onslaught of wet kisses.

  “Can we play with her, Mom?” Emma said. “Yeah, Mom,” Aiden added, “Can we?”

  Jordan put Lucy down on the ground. The dog sat quietly in front of the children as they fussed over her.

  “Try this,” Chris said. He removed a tennis ball from his pants pocket and handed it to Aiden.

  “Lucy, you wanna play?” Aiden said. “Come on girl, fetch!” He rolled the ball across the floor.

  Too nervous to move, Lucy watched the yellow ball roll across the vestibule and down the main hall.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Emma said. “You can play. Go get your ball!”

  As if realizing that this was her new home, that everything was going to be all right, and that the Quest’s were her new family, Lucy let out a playful ‘ruff!’ She raced after the tennis ball as fast as her little legs would carry her with Emma and Aiden in hot pursuit.

  “You realize those two aren’t going to get any sleep tonight,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah,” Chris said. “But did you see the look on their faces? Priceless.”

  Jordan hugged her partner. “You’re the best, Hanover.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Jordan laughed. “At least stay for a glass of wine.”

  Chris put his arm around her. “That depends. Are we’re drinking the good stuff?”

  Jordan smiled. “Is there any other kind?”

  Marissa stopped and smiled as Lucy raced past. She walked back toward the dining room. “I’ll keep dinner warm,” she said.

  Jordan and Chris sat in the oak-walled study. Lucy ran in, greeted them with an ecstatic woof!, scampered in circles at Jordan’s feet, rolled on the Persian rug, barked again, then raced off in search of Emma and Aiden.

  Jordan laughed. “Someone’s making herself right at home.”

  “She’s going to love it here,” Chris replied. “And the place could benefit from a little extra protection when you’re away.”

  Jordan pointed to the Crestron panel on the wall. “Have you seen my security system?” she teased. “This place is better protected than Fort Knox.”

  “I’m glad,” Chris said. He looked around the room at the shelves of books. “Don’t you ever get lonely here, Jordan? I mean, forty-thousand square feet is a hell of a lot of space for four people. Don’t get me wrong, I like to stretch out as much as the next guy, but geez!”

  “It is,” Jordan agreed. “But it’s all I have left to remember my parents by.”

  “I get that,” Chris said. He swirled his wine, seemed nervous, very un-Chris like.

  “You didn’t just come by to drop off Lucy, did you?” Jordan asked.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Chris looked up. “That’s what I wanted to ask you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Chris walked to the fireplace and set his glass on the mantle. “I’ve never seen you that physically affected before.”

  “You mean at the Rosenfeld’s? What happened to my hands?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jordan stood. She walked across the room and put her hand on his. “I’m fine. Transference comes with the territory.”

  “Maybe, but it’s scary as hell to watch you go through it.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “How often does it happen?”

  “Once in a while.”

 
; “Can you control it?”

  “No. It just happens.”

  “Did you experience it when you were a kid, too?”

  Jordan shook her head. “No. The episodes with transference started after the plane crash.”

  Chris took her hand in his. “Then I guess as long as you’re not in any physical danger when it occurs, I’ll just have to get used to it. It’s just that, like I said, I worry about you.”

  Jordan smiled. “I know you do.”

  “Then do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Let me keep worrying about you.” He leaned in to kiss her.

  Jordan pulled back. “I don’t think I’m ready for this, Chris. Not yet anyway.”

  Embarrassed, Chris said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to press.”

  “Don’t be,” Jordan said. “Really, it’s me. I’m just not there yet. Things are still too fresh in my mind.”

  “I understand,” Chris said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” Jordan said. “Because I wouldn’t want you to.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek as Emma and Aiden ran into the room. The kids were in a panic.

  “Mom! Mom!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Lucy!” Emma said. “She did her business all over the kitchen floor. And her poop stinks worse than Aiden’s!”

  Jordan saw Chris to the door.

  “Well, it looks like my work here is done,” Chris said. “Enjoy the new puppy.”

  Jordan laughed. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Chris walked down the steps and called out over his shoulder. “New York, here we come!”

  She laughed. “It’ll never be the same again.”

  Chris opened his car door and looked up at Jordan. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Jordan smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

  In the library, Jordan refilled her wine glass. She thought about her late husband Keith, and Chris, and how privileged she was to have had two such strong and caring men come into her life.

  As she sank back in her favorite chair, she felt something pinch her leg. She stood, placed her hand inside her pocket and removed the plastic needle sheath she had picked up from the floor of the Pyramid at the location where Egan had disappeared. A trace amount of the pink solution shimmered inside.

 

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