by Diana Ryan
The
Defender
Text Copyright © 2016 Diana Riechers
Cover Image Copyright © 2016 Hannah Christian Hess
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission of the publisher or author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
To my dearest Maddox and Macy,
who hold my very heart in their hands.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Prologue
A tiny blue service light at the top of the elevator shaft penetrated the complete darkness. My heart beat rapidly as a fat bead of sweat slowly dripped from my hairline. I took a sharp breath.
“This is it,” I whispered to myself.
“Just breathe, Nolan.” Agent Drew Smith detected my anxiety, and whispered to me from my left. “Ten minutes, buddy, and this is all over.”
He was right. I consciously reminded myself to breathe in and out. Heartbeats sounded loud in my ears as I crouched down against the cold elevator ceiling, holding my Glock in the ready position. Several other FBI agents held their offensive positions around me, silently waiting for the signal.
“Outlier, report,” my earpiece called.
“The tactical team is in the ready position.” I came off confidently, but secretly wanted to vomit on the elevator top. I took a deep breath and the nausea subsided momentarily.
“The task force has almost defused the bomb system within headquarters. Infiltrate on my signal.”
“Copy that. Myers is in his office,” the voice continued. “You must apprehend him before he suspects the intrusion.”
“Affirmative.” Seconds passed and the silence of the moment rang out through my ears. Then I heard the signal from Ground Ops.
“Now!” I yelled to my team. Agent Smith cracked open the hatch in the top of the elevator and four agents jumped in. We pried open the elevator door, and Agent Smith rolled in the tear gas canister. Screaming sounds contrasted a calm, but serious voice on the intercom. “System breech. Execute Plan B.”
I ran through the open door and shouted, “Get on your knees! Hands in the air!” More tactical teams entered the office from different entry points and fired shots to create confusion. It was Ethan Myers we wanted, not these unsuspecting agents. All the computers had turned blood red, a protection protocol I learned about when I worked here only a few months ago.
I headed toward Myers’s office, but stopped dead in my tracks as I passed my old desk. It was a bit too familiar. I ran my fingers over the desktop as memories flooded my brain. Not too long ago I sat right there, hopeful and excited to serve my country faithfully. Familiar faces hid behind their desks around the room, some being dragged away in handcuffs. Pandemonium continued around me, but my eyes moved everything in slow motion. These people had no idea they were not working for the American government. They had been duped, just as I had, most of them probably for more years than the four I was fooled into. I wanted to bring them into a huddle and impart the truth about everything, but the desk agents began to fight back—following their defense protocol and believing they were being attacked by criminals.
Complete chaos ensued—CBB employees sprinted for the exits, furniture was overturned, computers smashed, and sparking wires hung from the ceiling. There were many agents involved in combat, and shots whizzed by my head, but I was still stuck in a trance.
Drew shook me by the shoulders. “Nolan! Myers! We have to get Myers…now!”
He was right. I quickly followed Drew, darting through a maze of desks to where Myers’s office was in the back. He kicked down the door and we entered, guns drawn. We circled the perimeter of the office, but Myers wasn’t there.
A vent door swung in the ceiling.
“You go up after him,” Drew suggested. “I’ll have Ground Ops figure out where it leads and meet you there.”
“Got it.” I jumped up on the desk and hoisted myself into the ceiling. The air duct was just a bit larger than the size of my body, and I wondered how Myers had fit through, being the overweight creep that he was. The metal pathway made a spooky creaking sound in response to my weight as I carefully army-crawled through the duct. Myers couldn’t have gotten too far yet—surely his body couldn’t snake through as fast as mine could.
What was I going to say when I came face to face with Ethan Myers again? I was filled with nothing but rage for the man. He had forced me to stab my girlfriend six weeks ago, and for four years he deluded me into believing I was working for a legitimate government function when in all reality I was inadvertently assisting him to advance in the world of criminal activity.
What I wanted to do to Myers if I came face to face with him was against FBI code. I’d have a hard time restraining myself.
Just ahead of me I saw a pair of feet crawling as the duct took a bend to the right. They disappeared as I sped forward.
Myers!
I crawled faster through a bend, and as the duct straightened out I spotted the feet again. I activated my earpiece: “Ground Ops, Outlier.”
A steady male voice responded. “Go ahead, Outlier.”
“I have visual on Myers thirty feet ahead of me. We’re in the ductwork.”
“Affirm. We’ll inform Agent Smith.”
“Myers!” I called. He stopped for a moment and turned his head toward me. Evil, bright eyes looked straight at me through the tunnel.
“You.” The right side of his mouth turned up the tiniest bit. “You will pay for this, Hill. Mark my words.” Then he turned forward and took off quicker than before. Some type of special scooter was tied to his stomach.
So he was rolling through the ducts.
Myers was putting distance between us—I couldn’t keep up with the wheels of his scooter. I panicked and pulled the gun from my waistband. Before I thought about the repercussions, I fired two shots into the darkness. The first bullet ricocheted wildly off the sides of the metal tube and whizzed by my left ear, taking a tiny bit of the top off with it. I stopped moving and instinctively pressed a hand to my wound.
“My leg!” Myers grunted in front of me. “You incompetent—Ah! Go back to rookie training, Hill!” He started up again. I heard the wheels speed ahead.
“Go to hell, Myers!” I screamed, but he was already too far ahead. I crawled as fast as I could, my knees filling up with bruises and blisters. I pushed through the pain and soon came to a fork in the ductwork.
Right or left? Right or left?
My gut said right. I rushed down the right path, but not too far in I heard a metallic clang, and felt the
duct come unattached to the ceiling.
I started to fall to the ground but held tight to the edge of the duct. One side of the metal tube was swinging while the other side was still bolted in. My feet dangled below me as I tried to pull myself up, but it was no use—I couldn’t get a good grip.
Dammit! Myers is getting away!
My fingers slowly slipped down the metal slide as huge beads of sweat dripped down the side of my face. There was no way to get back into the ductwork, so I checked the floor underneath me, looking for a good landing pad.
I was hanging above a tall, oversized room with high ceilings easily two stories from the ground below. I had never seen this part of the CBB the entire time I worked here. Across from me, on the ceiling, hung vast, industrial looking spotlights shining down on what must be an operating room. All sorts of fancy machines, shiny metal sinks, and stark white cabinets housing medical supplies lined the perimeter walls. In the middle of the room sat two operating beds. If I swung the right way, and let go of my grip at the right time, I could probably land safely between all the equipment, and on one of the beds. I used my abs to get my feet in motion and after a few swings I let go. Just like a cat, I landed safely on the left bed. I spotted the exit off to my right and quickly headed to it, but as I approached, I found the door locked from the outside.
“No!” I grunted furiously as I tugged uselessly at the door handles. I had blown my chance to get Myers! How was I going to get out of here? I slammed my fist into the locked doors. Anger built quickly as my breathing felt heavy and fast. Unsure of what else to do, I flipped a medical table holding supplies to the floor with a loud clang.
Damn, that felt good.
I pressed the little button on my earpiece. “Ground Ops, this is Outlier. I lost visual on Myers when the duct broke.” I looked out a window to the street below. “I’m locked in some sort of medical room, probably on the fifteenth floor.”
“Requesting extrapolation. Hold position, Outlier.”
I paced through the room while I waited. On the south wall there was a whiteboard with several notes written on it. Along the top, the numbers one through eight were written in red marker and circled boldly. Names were sketched under three of the numbers and pictures had been attached under the names. Lynette Mitchell, Jody Isaacs, and…Ava Gardner.
I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Ava Gardner? I tried to control my anger but it was difficult. I thought Myers’s business with Ava was done. Why was she plastered on this wall with these two other women?
Each person was female and looked very similar to Ava—brown hair and brown eyes and seemed to be about the same age. Under each name there was a series of written notes. I ran my eyes over the phrases on Ava. There were details about where she lived and that she had a blue meteor in her house for several years, but it also indicated she was of Cornish descent and that she was right-handed.
What could this mean?
In the lower right-hand corner of the board were three words written in all capitals and circled in black: cure, revenge, vanquishment. Below it stood a date and time—sunrise, November 1st.
My earpiece buzzed. “Outlier, be advised the door will open momentarily.”
“Copy that.”
I took a picture of the wall with my phone and erased the whiteboard. Then for good measure I trashed the room. Whatever crazy experiments Myers planned on doing to the woman of my dreams would never happen on my watch.
Seconds later the door magically clicked open. “Thanks, Ground Ops. I’m outta here.”
A grey hallway welcomed me. I jogged down it toward the stairs while I waited for Op Tech to pull up the blueprints of the office.
Dammit! How could I have been outplayed by Myers again?
I slowed down near the middle of the hallway when an oversized map on the wall caught my attention. It took only a few seconds to realize what was represented, and then an angry fire deep within my body flared up again.
The map of the United States was covered with about thirty little red stars indicating all the CBB offices scattered all over the continent. I was naive enough to believe Myers headed up a small operation central to the Midwest, but I was sorely wrong. Just when I thought taking down this office would render Myers useless, I was flooded with deep and overwhelming defeat.
“Outlier, take the stairs on the north side of the hallway down two floors. Agent Smith is waiting for you there.”
“Copy that, Ground Ops.” I pulled down the map in anger and ran the rest of the hallway until I reached the door leading to the stairwell. I was about to push the door open when I heard a gun cock right behind my head.
“Don’t move, Hill.” I recognized the voice as Agent Harper’s immediately. Harper quickly grabbed the gun from my belt and tossed it to the floor, sending it sliding away from us down the hallway. I put my hands up and slowly turned around.
“So we meet again.” His cropped blond hair and chiseled face looked aged and full of stress. Myers must really be putting the pressure on him. “You know, Nolan, I can’t let you out of here alive. Myers wouldn’t approve of your attempts at single-handedly destroying our operations.”
I knew Ground Ops could hear what was happening, and I prayed my backup would arrive quickly.
“I don’t know, Harper,” I said, buying some time. “Won’t Myers want me alive so he can conduct some kind of inhumane torture methods on me? You better not shoot.” I knew I had to make my move quickly. Harper had shot me once before, and I was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.
I had been trained to appear calm, even though furious rage was still burning deep within me. “You know, I have been wondering. Why didn’t you kill me last summer when you had the chance?”
Harper’s eyes filled with anger. He knew exactly what I was doing and was ready to fight back where it hurt me the most. “She will never be safe, Hill. Myers needs Ava, and some feeble little half-agent wannabe like yourself could never protect her from his ultimate terminus.”
Before he could go on for a second more, I kicked the gun out of his hand and sent a powerful punch across his jawline. He doubled over in pain and tried to pick up the gun, but I was right there seconds before him. I swiftly pulled Harper’s right arm tightly behind his back, pushing him up against the wall. With my other arm I held the gun to his head.
It took all that was inside me not to shoot him in the side of the skull right then and there. Through clenched teeth and with rage behind my voice, I loudly whispered into his ear, “You will never hurt Ava. She has done nothing wrong and deserves a perfect life.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, Hill. It’s not what she’s done, it’s what she is. If you only knew…”
And then I heard a metallic clink on the floor, a hiss, and suddenly my eyes and lungs were burning. Harper broke my hold, and I wildly threw my hand through a cloud of gas and smoke, trying to find him.
Dammit! He escaped!
I bent over, coughing, trying to find my way out when I felt the door.
I pushed my way through and emerged into a stairwell full of clean air. I stopped to take two deep breaths, and then took the stairs two at a time, bursting through the door at the bottom. Drew was there talking on a company-issued cell phone. He hung it up just as I arrived.
“Where’d he go?” I gasped. “Did Harper just run through here?”
“No. No one has come through here.”
“Where the hell did he go?” I started to approach the exit door, but Agent Smith grabbed my arm. “Nolan, we successfully brought down the CBB. The building and all its employees have been secured.” He dropped his arm since I stopped my forward motion. Then he took his time before he said the next bit of news. “But no sign of Myers. I’m sorry, Nolan. ”
I put my hands on my knees, trying to steady myself. “Dammit! No…no!” My breathing was hoarse and quick and my heart was beating wildly. It was all my fault! I had Harper and Myers within my reach tonight and I let them both slip away. I kicked the wal
l in frustration, putting a hole in the drywall.
“Get me the hell outta here.”
Chapter One
Nolan parked his silver Audi near the baseball fields behind the community pool. He pushed the button on the dash to turn off the engine, and then reached over to grab my hand. My insides felt like there were a thousand tiny daggers poking my organs. I squeezed Nolan’s hand for comfort. It was his idea to visit the place where our lives drastically changed a bit more than six weeks before, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready just yet.
Nolan let out a deep sigh. “Are you ready for this?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the horror of that night, but I couldn’t keep the thoughts from my brain. I was stabbed and left to die right on that rock in the distance. But I knew Nolan was right—visiting Make Out Rock was part of our healing.
Nolan narrowed his eyes with concern and then placed his other hand on top of our already interlaced fingers.
I smiled weakly. How does he always make me feel so safe?
“Yes. Ready or not, let’s do this.” I let go of his hand and reached for the door handle. I rubbed my stomach—the daggers were still poking.
Was this really a good idea?
Nolan met me around the front bumper with his arms open wide. I walked right into them and they closed around me like safety gates. I snuggled the side of my head into the crook under his shoulder. It was my favorite spot to be.
Nolan lowered his face into my hair, inhaled deeply, and loudly exhaled. I knew he was smelling my hair—a habit of his that I treasured. “Let’s go over there before I chicken out,” he said.
Ah ha. So he felt a little nervous as well.
Nolan let go of my back, grabbed my shoulders, and held me at arm’s length. “Ava Gardner, you are the reason for my existence. I swear to heaven above that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from evil.”
I giggled a little. “Safe from evil? Sounds like a comic book line.”
“You’d be surprised how much this life resembles the world of comic books.” He gently kissed my lips, making my knees wonderfully weak, and then grabbed my left hand and led me off in the direction of the train tracks.
