Red Angel: Coup d'etat (Red Angel Series Book 5)

by C. R. Daems

  “It will be good getting everyone hopping. It’s been a bit boring lately. Here are those files you requested,” he said, handing me a flash drive. He turned and left.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Martha said. “You’re the first woman to hold the position and a welcome change.”

  “Anna, please.”

  “Anna, I have been here long enough to have seen four directors. To them the directorship was nothing more than a prestigious position. You seem to think it’s more a job.”

  “Between you and me, I hate prestigious positions. So, you and I must think job all the time,” I whispered as if it were to be a secret. Martha laughed.

  “Job it is, Anna,” Martha said. She spent the next hour giving me access to the various Committee computers and databases.

  * * *

  My two security guards directed me to an elevator which delivered us to an underground room the size of two soccer fields.

  “Ma’am, this is the Committee’s training area and a workout area for c-agents. The firing range is at the far end,” said Henry, the sergeant on my two-man security, pointing to the other side of the area. “The firing range is on the other side of that wall.”

  When I looked, I saw a floor-to-ceiling cement wall with a metal door. As I made my way to the firing range, I noticed the huge room was partitioned into separate sections: one with weights, exercise equipment, and a lap pool, one a training area with mats for fighting, a conference room and rest area, and the firing range. A running track circled the entire room.

  Inside the firing range was a large open room with several long tables with benches and a room that appeared to contain weapons, from what I could see through the open door where Major Olson stood. A glass partition with a second door separated the open room from ten fifty-meter firing lanes. At present no one was inside.

  “Good evening, Major Olson,” I said as he approached. He didn’t smile.

  “Director, I understand you want me to instruct you on the use of a Sig Sauer handgun,” he said while evaluating me.

  “Yes, I’ve never used one, and thought I should carry and be qualified with the same weapons as the c-agents. The navy uses the standard Massur Laser but not the Sig Sauer handgun. I’ve always used a standard Heckler Mfw.”

  “As you saw, we actually use the Sig Sauer Laser,” he said, drawing it from his right underarm holster.

  “Well then, I’ll need instructions on both.” I smiled as he turned and went back into the weapons room with me following. He gave me a hard look but didn’t say anything. As I thought, it contained all sorts of handguns, lasers, and multifunctional weapons as well as a few assault weapons. “As well as some of the weapons I don’t recognize. But that can wait for a while,” I said and could barely restrain a smile at the scowl on his face. He picked up a laser and a handgun and left the room; again I followed. When he headed for the door to the firing lane, I stopped him.

  “Major,” I said to get his attention and nodded to the table. “First you show me how to take those weapons apart, explain how each works, and how to get it back together again. Then we fire them.” I managed to keep the amusement I felt out of my voice. It was obvious that Craig didn’t like me…having a weapon, or teaching me, or wasting his time…or something.

  “You want to know how to take it apart and how it works?” he said, barely able to restrain whatever he was thinking, judging by the expression on his face.

  “Master Chief Ransom, my weapons instructor at the Naval Academy, would be appalled if I shot a weapon before I knew how to maintain it,” I said, raising my eyes in mock horror. I noticed Henry and Jerry straining not to laugh but they couldn’t contain a slight grin. Craig stared at me for a long time.

  “True,” he said and finally smiled. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m so used to political appointees…and you’re a woman and so young…”

  I took pity on him. “Craig, I’m sorry, too. The murders are making me feel rushed to get acclimated. I want each of you to tell me what you’re thinking. I may not listen but I won’t get mad. It’s much better than letting it fester, and it may well be something I need to hear.”

  We spent an hour taking apart both weapons, talking about how they worked, and reassembling them. Then we had a short firing session.

  “Can I come here at any time?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Normally, I’d prefer to be here but you’re the director and as qualified as any c-agent. I’ll give you the master passcode so you can get in.”

  “I’ll ask Martha to text you when I plan to visit. That way you’ll be aware that I’m here. I’d also like to visit your various classes to see what the new-hires are learning.”

  “Want to participate?”

  “No, if my c-agents and I can’t kill whoever’s attacking me, I don’t think a bit of self-defense will work,” I said and Craig nodded. “But I’d like to get a feel for our new-hires’ training.”

  * * *

  “No longer bored?” Alexa asked when I finally arrived home.

  “No. Everything is new. Being a civilian, new organization, new people, new weapons…” I shrugged. “I’m trying to learn it all and to fit in. I had a session today with a Sig Sauer, which is the weapon the agents use. But I don’t like it in a shoulder holster. On big, tall men you don’t notice it but on me…” I removed both the Sig Sauer and the laser and handed them to Alexa.

  “You strap it to your leg…” Alexa removed the gun and began placing it on different parts of my body, causing us to begin laughing hysterically. “If you wore a skirt, you could strap them to your legs. What about…?” She took a scarf and tied the Sig in the middle of my back and then put my jacket back on. “That’s not noticeable and completely invisible from the front.”

  * * *

  The next week was a whirlwind of activity as I visited my direct reports’ sections and asked lots of questions. I also spent an hour at the firing range each day and had a holster made that I could strap around my waist so I could draw the weapon with my right hand. I didn’t have any problem learning the feel of the Sig Sauer and found drawing it from my back slightly easier than from under my arm. After that, I began to practice shooting from my waist as weapon rose to eye level. I found that relatively easy after my previous work with a Mfw. Then I had a crazy idea.

  “Saul, come here.” I waved to one of my security guards. “I’m going to turn sideways so my holstered weapon is pointing down range. I want you to make sure the barrel is not pointing toward my back and then pull the trigger,” I said, turning sideways.

  He stood frozen, looking at me in shocked horror. Maxine, one of the few women c-agents, walked up to me. She reached in and pulled the Sig Sauer out enough so she could grip the handle and get her finger on the trigger, made sure the weapon wasn’t pointing toward my back, and fired. I felt a sharp burning sensation across my back and when I looked down range, my target had a hole about ten centimeters below the bull’s-eye.

  “Wow,” Maxine exclaimed. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “I think so,” I said as I removed the holster and pulled my blouse free of my pants.

  “You have a red streak from the path of the bullet.” She winced as if it were her fault.

  “So, if I had a wide leather strip there…” I muttered almost to myself.

  Maxine’s eyes and face lit up. “You could shoot twice as fast and reduce your profile at the same time… That’s super clever and sneaky.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  UnCab: Concerns or Problems

  “They have recruited Anna Paulus to be the Director of Committee Security,” Harold said while staring out the windows of the living room at the shifting kaleidoscope of colors the sunset created against the puffy white clouds.

  “Is that more of a problem than her being in the NIA?” Steve asked as he poured himself a glass of beer and took a sip.

  “Yes. She will have more power and be closer to the problem. She has been described by Admiral Lulltrel as
a bloodhound and pit bull mix. She should have added cat to the mix. At one time during her career she had a five-million-credit Wanted Dead reward on her head and no one collected, although several marines tried. And a couple of years ago an FPU cruiser, the Shark, had her captured and brought on board their ship in Westar space. Next thing we hear, Paulus is in Eastar with the cruiser. No details,” Harold said, turning from the window and fetching a glass of whiskey.

  “That sounds like a made-up cover story or a rumor on steroids,” Steve said with a snort.

  “You may be right, Steve, but we know she was kidnapped and transported to the Shark cruiser, and we have the cruiser, she’s alive, and they aren’t.”

  “Doesn’t matter what the truth is,” Ryan said. “We know she has closed down several major criminal organizations and she can be ruthless. She proved that with the last group of sexual predators. She used her P1A authority like a wrecking ball, smashing apart all our UAS protected rights.” Ryan finished his glass in one gulp. “And we thanked her when she was finished.”

  “Once we complete our plan, it won’t matter what Paulus knows. We will be in power and we can retire her legally. And our timeframe for completion is too short for her to figure out what is going on, who is responsible, and stop it.” Harold held up a hand to stop comments. “However, I think we would sleep better if little Anna retired sooner rather than later. Maria?”

  “I’ll arrange it,” she said with a slight nod. “Her murder wouldn’t be suspicious. Lots of nasty people have a grudge against her, and others would like that two-hundred-fifty-thousand-credit krait she has around her neck.”

  “Your kill-squad?” Ryan asked.

  “No. They each have special skills we need to carry out our plan, so I’d hate to lose one or more of them. They need to stay under the radar. I’d prefer some expendable assets. Much less chance of them being traced to us and more likely to be thought a revenge attack for one of Paulus’s NIA projects,” Maria said with a slight smile on her lips as if her mind was seeing the event being executed as she spoke. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Typhoon Anna

  “Well, what do you think of our new director?” Seth asked at an informal gathering of the senior c-agents.

  “I spent several hours with Colonel Pannell,” Ballard said. “Our lady director is young but she’s had more combat experience than any of us and we’ve all served in combat units. He said she has nerves of steel and has a silver cluster on her Purple Heart ribbon. Paul claims she saved his and his men’s lives on a couple of occasions and described several of the assassination attempts. I couldn’t believe how ingenious her attackers have been. He said the bad guys are rightly afraid of her, and if our terrorists are part of a larger organization and not just one or two individuals, they will want Paulus dead.”

  “Her old boss, Vice Admiral Lulltrel, said Paulus has a very easygoing unorthodox style of managing but don’t let that fool you. She’s no pushover, more like a bloodhound and pit bull mix,” Seth interjected. “And I talked with General Guzman. He said he’d rather try and intimidate President Bennett than Anna Paulus. My impression was he’d make her a general and give her a regiment if she asked.”

  “And she can shoot, almost as good from her waist,” Craig said. “Maxine tells me she had a new holster made for her back. With it she can shoot while the gun is in the holster.” Craig shook his head. “She has been at the firing range for an hour each day this week.”

  “I also talked to her old secretary, a master chief, and her aide-de-camp, a lieutenant, and her station chief. They all love her. Everyone agreed she hates promotions and change and wasn’t happy taking this job,” Seth said. “I think we got a winner, which is good as she doesn’t appear to be planning on leaving anytime soon. I say she deserves our full support.”

  There were nods of agreement from everyone.

  Seth sat quietly when everyone had left, thinking about his new boss. Anna had impressed him right from the start by opening herself to questions rather than making some speech about how privileged she was to be the director. He could see why now. She wasn’t impressed. Money and rank weren’t important. People were. She wanted to know everyone and to be part of the team, not its dictator or its figurehead or its spokeswoman, but a member And although she had poked her nose into everyone’s domain, she hadn’t tried to change anything. It would be interesting when she turned her focus on the terrorists. He smiled at the thought.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Murders

  I sat at my desk staring at my tablet. The flash drive Seth had given me contained four folders titled Manifesto, Mr. Oscar Morales—Westar, Mrs. Valerie Briggs—Amend, and Mr. Myron Crawford—Holy Star. I clicked on Manifesto.

  WE the PEOPLE demand a fair and equitable system of democracy and will if necessary hold those accountable that oppose or obstruct its implementation. Currently, Eastar has fifty-five percent of the UAS population. However, under the current system Eastar has only one seat on the Committee out of fifteen. That’s less than seven percent of the vote. WEP demands equal representation based on the population—democracy. WEP will give the Committee thirty days to revise the UAS Constitution or WEP will act to dissolve the Committee.

  I concluded they did have a valid point, but I doubted the Committee was going to acquiesce since the fourteen affected systems had ninety-three percent of the power and would not want to relinquish their advantage. And although the issue sounded reasonable on the surface, each system had an equal stake in the success of the Alliance. But then, Eastar was probably committing more to the UAS security in terms of money and manpower. At this point, if Eastar felt the way WEP did, their only alternative would be to pull out of the UAS. Fair isn’t my concern, I mused. Terrorism wouldn’t be tolerated and my responsibility was to stop the killings. I thought it safe to conclude WEP is Eastar based, as I couldn’t imagine how such a revision to the Committee’s constitution would benefit any of the other systems.

  I shrugged and clicked on the Mr. Morales icon and several new folders appeared: Police Report, Committee Investigation, and Conclusions. I began with the police report. Delegate Morales had been at a high-end private nightclub, LaPerm, accompanied by his two bodyguards and several male friends visiting from Westar. They had been joined by several women they met at the club and around midnight left and went to the Winston Hotel. There Mr. Morales rented the Presidential Suite, which had two bedrooms and a large living room complete with couches, tables, a small bar, and a spectacular view of the city from his fortieth-floor location. He was discovered dead in the master bedroom the next morning. The women had left sometime during the early hours of the morning. When it was determined that Morales was a Committee delegate, they contacted Mr. Bennett.

  Next, I clicked on the Committee Investigation icon. The Committee sent Doctor Pierce, who determined that Morales had been poisoned sometime between ten that evening and two in the morning. The subsequent autopsy concluded the poison had been ingested and that the drug was a neurotoxin, tetrodotoxin, commonly associated with pufferfish but also found in other sea life including certain algae, crabs, octopus, and frogs. The forensics team could find no container in the room with traces of the toxin. Nor could the identity of the women be ascertained. The team concluded that only Morales had ingested the toxin, because the hotel cameras verified his two companions and the women were alive when they departed. Furthermore, no one else had been reported poisoned at the LaPerm.

  I clicked on the file titled Conclusions. The investigating team were unable to determine how or where Morales had ingested the toxin or whether it had been on purpose or by accident and therefore, whether WEP had been responsible.

  Mr. Morales died thirty-five days after the WEP’s manifesto, and although they did not claim responsibility for his death, I didn’t think they could be ruled out. Admitting to the murder would be a confession of guilt if they were caught, whereas keeping silent meant the police wo
uld require proof; however, the delegates would assume WEP had carried out on their threat.

  I clicked on Mrs. Briggs’s folder and then the Police Report. Mrs. Briggs’s murder was more straightforward. She had gone shopping at one of the upscale shopping areas along with her secretary and two bodyguards. All four had been gunned down in the parking garage when they had returned from shopping. The ballistics report said the attackers had used assault weapons. They had found more than two hundred brass casings at the scene. And judging by the lack of brass from her bodyguards’ weapons, the group had been caught by surprise.

  The Committee investigation had little to add. The Conclusions file stated that the killing did not appear to be a robbery gone wrong but could have been a revenge killing or other motive unrelated to WEP as the group again never claimed responsibility. They did note that Valerie Briggs was killed thirty-two days after Mr. Morales’s suspicious death.

  I thought it suspicious that the group still hadn’t claimed responsibility. Clever or some other reason? I wondered, since terrorist groups generally took credit for everything, even things they didn’t do if it appeared to support their cause.

  I moved on to Mr. Crawford’s files. He apparently had a mistress he visited regularly at a condominium he owned, a Miss Angel Love. According to the police, four masked men had entered the condo, secured Miss Love, and waited for Crawford to come for his normal weekend visit. They killed Miss Love and Mr. Crawford after having tortured him, based on the condition of his body. The Committee investigation found Crawford’s bank account on Eastar had been robbed. They concluded that the murder had been a vicious robbery and not connected to WEP even though it occurred thirty-six days after Mrs. Briggs’s murder.