Two FBI thrillers: Before Nightfall and Mistake Creek

by Rachel Amphlett

  ***

  Kyle raised his head above the four-door sedan and checked the outer layout of the farmhouse.

  Before he was ready to enter the building, he wanted to make sure nothing had changed since his brief recce.

  Everything depended on him now. If he failed to make the phone call, thousands of people would die, and the rest of the country would descend into panic and chaos.

  Adrenalin swarmed though his veins, driving him forwards to seek out the next structure he could use as a shield.

  When he’d checked the gun, it contained a full magazine of rounds. John had always insisted on concealing a weapon in the vehicle for emergencies, but neither of them had expected their well-laid plans to unravel so quickly.

  In his haste to return to the motorbike after Nina had yelled out her warning of their pursuers closing in on them, Kyle hadn’t had time to reach for the extra ammunition they’d hidden under the seats of the vehicle.

  He swore under his breath.

  Having Nina tag along was both a curse and a blessing. In one sense, he wouldn’t have got this far without her, certainly not riding the motorbike with his injured shoulder.

  On the other, she clouded his thoughts. Every decision he made tonight would impact upon her.

  He wasn’t used to having to worry about someone else. He and John had worked together for two years, almost psychic in their ability to segue their movements and decisions on a mission.

  Instead, he worried. He’d begun to second-guess his own decisions. Such as leaving her behind the four-wheel drive vehicle, hoping she’d be safe while he tried to reach the damn telephone.

  On previous missions, there had been collateral damage – the name the Bureau gave civilians who got in the way of the success of eliminating threats to the country. Innocent people who had been caught in the line of fire, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He overcame any guilt or regret by rationalising those losses against the people he’d saved by the decisions he’d made.

  It was the only way he knew how to stop the guilt from spiralling out of control.

  Now, he battled an overwhelming sense of longing. Everything Nina had done since leaving the truck stop was to try to help Ross and his family.

  She was braver than any woman he’d met before tonight, and he’d do anything to protect her.

  Kyle exhaled, concentrated on slowing his heart rate, then scuttled across to the next vehicle, a horse float that had been unhitched and abandoned in the yard, its wheels chocked by bricks.

  A horse whinnied nearby, and he cursed, hoping the animal wouldn’t be spooked by his presence. He tried to recall how far the paddock was from the house, but in the darkness it was impossible to gauge the distance.

  Instead, he crouched and peered under the trailer, across the remaining space between himself and the building.

  To the left, the front door stood wide open, the internal lights blazing out into the night. From his position, his view was restricted to the wall of the hallway, the door opening away from him.

  He raised his chin and turned his attention to the other side of the doorway. With the porch in shadow, the powerful overhead lights blinding him, he couldn’t tell if anyone was lying in wait, or whether the house had been abandoned.

  He stood, then crept along the length of the horse float and peered round the corner.

  Silence engulfed the property, the rain reduced to a steady downpour, remnants of the lightning storm rumbling every few minutes in the distance.

  During his previous recce, he’d checked all the windows around the ground floor of the house, but they’d been locked shut. The only way into the house was in front of him.

  Kyle released the safety on the gun and hurried forward in a stooped run, keeping his profile as low as possible.

  He reached the steps leading up to the porch and tiptoed up them, diving into the cover of the shadows next to the front door, and waited.

  As soon as he was sure it was safe, he pivoted on his toes and swung the gun in a two-handed grip towards the front door, stepping into the hallway.

  Starting with the ground floor, he checked each room, his senses alert for movement.

  Once satisfied the downstairs area held no surprises, he moved up the staircase from the hallway and entered each of the bedrooms, then the two bathrooms.

  As he stood in the last bedroom and flicked the safety switch on the gun, he finally allowed himself a moment to relax, the relief tinged with anguish that there was no sign of Ross’s father or brother.

  The house was empty.

  With the gun still in his grip, he edged back downstairs, then rounded a corner and strode along the hallway, pushed open a door, and stepped into the room.

  He reached out to his right, his fingers moving up and down the wall until he located the light switch, and flicked it.

  A single bulb in the centre of the ceiling illuminated the room, its glare softened by a shade that created shadows in the corners and a pool of light above a patterned rug.

  On the far side of the room, a large painting that had once depicted horses galloping on a racetrack had been ripped from the wall and thrown onto the floor. As Kyle drew closer, the tale-tell rip from a heavy boot was evident in the centre of the canvas.

  A wall safe had been exposed, its door open and documents strewn across the carpet, crackling under Kyle’s boots as he pivoted, surveying the damage.

  The farm’s paperwork lay strewn across an old mahogany desk – invoices, delivery dockets, and scribbled notes. The computer and screen had been destroyed, and Kyle carefully sifted through the glass-strewn desk for any clues as to the family’s whereabouts.

  Nothing.

  Kyle checked to see if his satellite phone worked. The screen remained blank, save for a system error message that confirmed his suspicions.

  He swore and turned his attention to the desk phone, his hand hovering over it for a moment before he snatched it from its cradle and put it to his ear.

  The single tone of a dead line cut through the static, confirming the landline had been severed – either by the storm or by those who had taken Ross’s family.

  He grasped the cable between his fingers, tracking its path around the edge of the room until he found the junction box, and then cursed.

  The wire had been cut, rendering the landline useless.

  He wracked his memory. When they’d first met, Ross had told him about a UHF radio they kept for emergencies.

  He began to pull out the desk drawers, going through them one by one, but by the last drawer, he realised he was pursuing a fruitless task. The office had been thoroughly ransacked.

  Instead, he hurried out of the room, down the hallway, and out the front door and ran from vehicle to vehicle until he found Nina, cold and shivering, exactly where he’d left her. She brandished a length of wood, gripping it in her hands and ready to strike.

  Her eyes opened wide at his presence before her shoulders relaxed. ‘It’s you,’ she said, a note of relief in her voice. ‘I thought they’d found me.’

  ‘Come with me,’ said Kyle. ‘I need your help.’

  ***

  Nina gasped when she saw the damage to the farm office.

  She moved towards the open safe, sifting through the debris, her eyes welling up.

  ‘They’ve stolen all of his mother’s jewellery,’ she said, wiping angrily at her tears. She inspected the wreckage strewn around the room. ‘Why would they do this? Why would they take them?’

  ‘Because they’re professionals,’ said Kyle.

  ‘What do we do?’

  He held up the satellite phone. ‘This isn’t working, and the landline’s out. Ross mentioned to John in the past that they have a UHF radio here for emergencies.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘Do you know where they might keep it?’

  She frowned, her mind working. ‘I would have thought it’d be in here somewhere.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Drawers have been tipped out. If they’d found
it here, they’d have destroyed it and tossed it.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘It’s what I would have done.’ He sighed. ‘I’m used to being the one that does this to people, Nina. I’m not a farmer. So where else would Ross’s family keep a radio for emergencies?’

  She closed her eyes, running the layout of the house through her mind, discarding rooms as her memory worked.

  ‘Hurry, Nina. We’re running out of time.’

  She opened her eyes and bit her lip. ‘Try the mud room out the back.’

  He followed her from the room, down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘Why there?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s just a guess. If there was an accident outside, they’d want help fast. No sense in having a phone in the office or somewhere else if you’ve got to run the length of the house to get to it.’ She led the way through the kitchen to what appeared to be a closet door. ‘You’d keep it somewhere everyone had access to it.’

  She pushed open the door and stood aside to let Kyle pass.

  The room held a musty aroma of sweat, old grass, and Jeff’s favourite tobacco.

  A hundred memories flooded Nina’s thoughts as she stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips as she assessed the subtle changes that had taken place since she’d last been at the Flanagan property.

  ‘Nina?’

  The urgency in Kyle’s voice galvanised her into action. Pulling open the door to a small cupboard to the right of the back door, she reached up and grabbed hold of the UHF radio set.

  ‘How did you guess?’ asked Kyle, taking the unit from her and placing it on the counter.

  Nina smiled. ‘The cupboard was the only thing that was different from when I was last here,’ she said.

  His eyebrows shot upwards before he reached into the cupboard again, a grin on his face.

  ‘Now that’s a bonus,’ he said, holding up a small pistol and checking its magazine. ‘Full, too,’ he added, tucking it into his waistband.

  ‘They must’ve surprised Jeff before he had a chance to defend himself,’ said Nina.

  ‘Maybe.’ Kyle began flicking switches on the radio unit and then held up his hand before speaking. ‘Stay quiet,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have one chance at this. I don’t know who could be listening in, and I need my office to mobilise as soon as they get this written down, okay?’

  Nina nodded, listening as Kyle flicked to a frequency and issued his call sign.

  He waited for a few seconds, and then when there was no response, moved to the next frequency and repeated the exercise.

  Nina began to pace the floor, her heart racing as the seconds become minutes and still no response issued through the radio.

  The hiss of white noise as Kyle twisted the dial after each attempt began to grate on her nerves. Irritated, she resisted the urge to snatch the microphone from his grip and issue her own plea for help.

  Kyle noticed her agitation and put a finger to his lips, shaking his head as he turned the dial, paused to take a breath, and then recited the call sign Nina now knew by heart.

  They both surged closer to the radio unit as a voice replied almost as soon as Kyle finished speaking.

  It was another man, his deep tones failing to disguise his excitement, despite the static that broke up his words.

  ‘Good to hear from you. Where have you been?’

  ‘On vacation,’ said Kyle. ‘And my phone credit ran out.’

  Nina frowned before she realised both men were talking in a form of code in an attempt to confuse any eavesdroppers.

  ‘What’s the weather like?’

  ‘Shitty. And you’ve got a tornado heading your way.’

  A moment’s silence passed before the man responded.

  ‘Repeat that?’

  ‘Tornado. Heading your way. Left here eight hours ago.’

  ‘Destination?’

  ‘As we suspected.’

  Nina heard movement in the background, chairs being pushed back and a murmur of urgent voices.

  ‘Copy that,’ said the voice.

  ‘Out,’ said Kyle, and replaced the microphone. He checked his watch. ‘Fifteen seconds. Hopefully we got away with it.’

  ‘Now what happens?’ Nina demanded. ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Field office for the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force,’ said Kyle. ‘They’ve been monitoring the airwaves for the past week waiting for my call. And I just ruined their night.’

  ‘What was all that about a tornado?’

  Kyle’s shoulders sagged a little. ‘Our team’s code for an airborne biological weapon.’

  25

  A chill wormed its way up Nina’s spine. ‘What biological weapon?’

  ‘I didn’t tell you everything, back at the barn,’ said Kyle.

  Nina glared at him, her hands on her hips. ‘Explain.’

  She watched Kyle pace the room, his impatience evident. He appeared to debate within himself whether to tell her; then he sighed.

  ‘We’ve reason to believe the owner of the property next to Ross’s is planning a terrorist attack on San Francisco,’ he said quietly.

  Nina snorted. ‘With drugs?’

  He shook his head. ‘The drugs are only a small part of it,’ he said. ‘He’s got men refining drugs for other people, making a lot of money from it. That funds his other project – the real reason they’re out here.’

  ‘What’s he really doing?’ asked Nina, her breathing ragged

  ‘By leaving the crops unharvested near the road and along the boundary with Ross’s property, he’s managed to disguise the fact that every single castor oil plant near the house and outbuildings has been stripped and not replaced,’ he said. ‘He’s been refining it, into ricin.’

  Nina wracked her memory. Her lip quivered. ‘He’s made a poison?’

  Kyle nodded. ‘We’ve never seen so much in one place,’ he said.

  ‘What will he do with it?’

  ‘His men have filled the truck with the finished product. They’re planning to deliver it to a distribution warehouse on the edge of the city. From there, Hudson’s contacts will access the underground stations on the Bay Area Rapid Transit system. It means the ricin will be an airborne agent – there’ll be mass casualties. They have new chemical and biological agent identification systems in place, but ricin’s hard to detect.’

  Nina covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I don’t get it. Why would they do that?’

  Kyle sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair. ‘When we did the background checks on Hudson, we found out that he’d been exposed to depleted uranium when he’d served in the first Gulf War. By the time the government stopped arguing with the medical community whether they were culpable or not, it was too late. Hudson had developed inoperable lung cancer.’

  ‘That doesn’t explain why Hudson would attack his own country though.’

  ’To any rational person it wouldn’t, but Hudson’s not. He’s dying.’ He shrugged. ‘We believe it’s because he blames America for his death. For not ensuring he was provided for when he came home. All Hudson knew was how to be a Marine, and the government wasn’t interested in supporting him after his job was done.’

  ‘Will he succeed?’

  ‘If we don’t stop him, yes. Inhalation of ricin isn’t always fatal, but can you imagine the panic he’ll cause?’

  ‘When did you find out what was really going on?’

  ‘Three months ago, when I went in undercover. Because of my alias, Hudson trusted me very quickly and brought me into his inner circle.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?’

  His gaze met hers. ‘I didn’t know if I could trust you.’

  ***

  The engine coughed once, sending a trail of blue smoke into the air, and a rattle shook the vehicle.

  Kyle cursed and twisted the key again.

  The starter motor whirred before the engine caught, properly this time, and the radio blared to life.

  Nin
a lurched forward in her seat, shocked at the sudden noise, hit the ‘off’ button, and willed her heartbeat to slow down. Her hands shook as she reached across and fastened her seatbelt as the vehicle gathered speed.

  ‘I always did hate country and western,’ she grumbled.

  After Kyle had alerted his superiors on the UHF radio, Nina had left the mud room and wandered back through the house, shocked at the damage that had been caused by the intruders.

  Entering the large living area with its stone fireplace filling the opposite wall, Nina’s heart sank as her gaze swept over the ripped upholstery and overturned furniture.

  She’d crouched and picked up a broken photo frame, carefully extracted the photograph, and smoothed its creases between her fingers.

  In it, a much younger Ross stood with his father, brother, and mother. Nina’s mind worked the math, and she realised the photo had been taken only a few months before Ross’s mother had passed away.

  Standing, she crossed the room and propped up the photograph on the mantelpiece.

  ‘I’ll put this right, Suzanne, don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘Somehow, I’ll put this right.’

  She’d spun round at the sound of footsteps, and Kyle entered the room.

  Energy had radiated from him as he strode across the carpet to her.

  ‘They’ll be tracking the vehicle now,’ he said. ‘Full biohazard and SWAT teams should be on their way.’

  ‘Will they stop it?’

  ‘I hope so. They’d mobilise every available unit and coordinate with the emergency services. The ports will be closed down, and there’ll be extra security at the airport in case anyone tries to make a run for it.’

  He’d followed her gaze to the photograph.

  ‘We can’t go to Hudson’s and check on them as well as make sure Ross is okay, Nina. There isn’t time.’

  She closed her eyes. ‘If something happened to Tim and Jeff and I could’ve prevented it, Ross would never forgive me.’ She bit her lip. ‘I couldn’t forgive myself.’ She opened her eyes and turned to the FBI agent. ‘I have to find out if they’re okay, Kyle.’