Fallen: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers Book 5)

by Nick Stephenson

  The FBI could have someone at his location within an hour once he found a phone. Less, if Burke could get one of the choppers. Ward kept that thought in his head as he felt his leg muscles start to burn. He pressed on, scaling the hill toward the summit, keeping the farmhouse firmly in his sights.

  Ward’s brain spun as he marched. He hadn’t yet figured out why Blake would want him alive, but he knew it probably had something to do with the information his men had pulled from the FBI servers. If they had managed to get hold of the alias lists, hundreds of agents’ lives would be in jeopardy. That was some serious leverage, and Ward suspected Blake wanted him alive long enough to use it.

  But for what?

  The director shook off the feeling of unease spreading through his body. He figured whatever was going to happen couldn’t be avoided. No sense in worrying about it until he knew what it was. And then, with any luck, he’d be in a position to do something about it rather than being stranded in a field in the middle of nowhere with his finger stuck up his ass.

  From somewhere far ahead came the sound of a big engine revving. Ward ignored it and pressed on.

  ***

  The farmhouse seemed typical for the area; white timber frame with four columns supporting a sheltered porch area. The decking looked worn, with patches of moss and rot forming in the corners, but otherwise it appeared stable. The paintwork was chipped, no doubt the product of years of hot summers and cold winters, and the curtains were drawn across the windows.

  Farmland stretched out all around, endless green, brown, and yellow fields rolling out toward the horizon, some a little patchier than others. A line of trees to the side followed the landscape as far as Ward could see before joining a denser mass of forest a few miles north. Whatever crops they were growing here weren’t doing so well. He couldn’t make out any farm equipment or livestock, either.

  He turned his attention back to the house. The porch door hung open slightly, a bug net covering the doorway behind. Ward couldn’t see through it into the interior, but it looked like somebody was home. The smell of something cooking wafted out into the still air, and the director felt his stomach grumble.

  Again, he heard the distant sound of a revving engine. He looked across the expansive yard, but couldn’t see anything except for a few outbuildings. Shrugging, he headed for the front door and knocked hard on the frame.

  Then he waited.

  When nobody answered, he tried again. The sound of the engine got louder. Ward ignored it and knocked again.

  Still nothing.

  Ward heard a deafening rattling noise and nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around to see a tractor headed straight toward him, engine spinning wildly. Black smoke poured out the exhaust. It must have made its way up behind the line of trees, the noise of the heavy diesel muffled by the leaves. Ward squinted for a look at the driver, but the reflective windshield obscured his view.

  The tractor rolled to a stop a few feet from him and the driver got out, leaving the engine running. The man, whoever he was, started walking toward the house. He wore dirty coveralls over a muscular frame and didn’t look a day under sixty. Ward heard a scuffling noise behind him, catching him off guard. He wheeled around, wondering what the hell was going on.

  His eyes settled on a double-barreled shotgun leveled at his head.

  Chapter 37

  “WHAT THE HELL are you planning on doing with those?” Mary eyed the hefty set of bolt cutters Kate had pulled out of her trunk. She was holding them in both hands and they looked heavy.

  Kate smiled. “I told you, this is my key. I can assure you, it’s damn effective.”

  “We can’t just go around breaking into private property.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Mary groaned. “It’s always the same with you. Always rushing in head first without thinking about who you’ll end up hurting.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Mary felt her head get hot. She resisted the urge to raise her voice. “You know exactly what I mean.”

  Marshall seemed to decide it was time to steer the conversation in a different direction. He stepped toward Kate, palms up. “Listen, uh, ma’am…”

  “My name’s Kate. Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’”

  Marshall glanced sideways at Mary. “Wow, you two really are sisters.”

  Mary could have sworn she noticed his mouth twitch into a tiny smile. She wanted to slap it right off his face.

  “Mary’s right,” he continued. “There’s due process to follow. We need a warrant. And to get one of those, we need some evidence. More substantial evidence than your rumor mill and a few loosely connected dots.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that rulebook bullcrap.” She glared at her sister. “I get enough of that from her.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt you to listen once in a while,” Mary said.

  “Ladies, please,” said Marshall, arms folded. “Look, we need something to justify us going in there. Otherwise, everything we find is going to be inadmissible in court.”

  Kate groaned loudly. “What kind of world are you living in here? If something really is going on with Chemworks, then a speedy trial is the least of our concerns. We won’t even make it to a judge if we don’t figure out what’s going on.”

  “I can’t authorize this,” said Marshall.

  “I don’t need your authorization. Far as I can see, I’m a civilian working for a nondomestic intergovernmental organization. I’m not bound by the same rules as you, meaning if I find something, you can still use it as evidence. And second, you two are supposed to be dead. What the hell are you going to do to stop me?”

  Marshall opened his mouth to speak, but apparently couldn’t think of anything to say.

  Kate slung the bolt cutters over her shoulder and started walking toward the locked door. “Didn’t think so.”

  Mary saw Marshall glance at her, as though looking for an explanation. Mary just shrugged. “She’s got a point.”

  Marshall grunted.

  “You two coming or what?” Kate called from around the corner.

  Mary and Marshall followed. They found Kate standing next to a steel sliding door. It was a little under seven feet high, maybe four feet wide, with a heavy padlock securing the slide handle. Smaller locks secured the bolts at the top and bottom of the frame.

  “What do you figure?” Kate said, hoisting the bolt cutters and positioning the blades over the larger padlock. “About two thirds of an inch thick?”

  Marshall nodded. “Looks about right.”

  “I’m probably gonna need your help, then.” She waved him over.

  Together, they forced the bolt cutter’s handles together with considerable effort until the padlock snapped off and dropped to the floor with a dull clunk. Kate looked up at Marshall and grinned.

  “One down, two to go.”

  The other locks fell more easily, and Marshall heaved the metal door open once the bolts were loose. Mary peered inside. The interior was dark, smelled a little damp, like a basement after heavy rainfall. She felt her hand drift down to her hip again.

  “Allow me,” said Marshall, stepping forward. He pulled out his sidearm and held it up as he inched closer to the opening. “Stay behind me until I give the all clear.”

  Mary saw Kate roll her eyes. Taking a deep breath, Mary followed Marshall and stepped into the warehouse, her sister bringing up the rear.

  She heard a dull clicking sound and some overhead fluorescent strip lights buzzed into life. The blubs flooded the floor space in a harsh neon light, making everything look a little blue. Mary blinked a few times to get used to the glare.

  She looked around. Metal shelving units were stacked wall to wall, packed full with what looked like hard-shelled Samsonite suitcases. At least, they were about the same size and shape. They were marked with a company logo, the text underneath reading “LS Coventry Electrical”. Against the far corner, straight ahead of them, a small room had
been fenced off using cubicle walls, the kinds found in any one of a million corporate offices. An open entryway and a desk, but no roof. Mary could make out a small workstation and a computer monitor inside, some bunched-up cables and a lamp.

  Marshall stayed up front, moving cautiously, his weapon still drawn and pointing straight ahead. He moved smoothly and silently, no doubt the product of decades of training and field experience. Mary wondered how good a shot he was.

  Not that it was a competition.

  Marshall held up a fist and they stopped. He indicated Mary and her sister should stay put. They complied. Marshall disappeared around the corner of one of the shelving units, leaving the two of them alone.

  A few minutes passed. Mary bit her lip, glad they were being forced to keep quiet. She wasn’t sure what she’d find to talk about, anyway.

  There came the sound of footsteps and Marshall reappeared, holstering his sidearm. He looked a little relieved.

  Mary said, “All clear?”

  “Yeah. Place is deserted.” He glanced around. “Any idea what these things are?”

  “I’m guessing they’re probably not luggage.”

  Kate leaned in a little closer to one of the objects. “How about we open them up?”

  “Could be booby trapped,” said Marshall.

  “Not likely. They obviously contain something that’s designed to be taken out. Unless this is the world’s largest suitcase closet.” She grinned. “Nobody’s supposed to know they’re here, right? So, why bother with a trap? We’d have tripped it when we came through the doors if there was one. Besides, you think you’re gonna be able to get a HAZMAT squad down here to open it for you? I remember you waffling on about evidence and all. As in, we don’t have any.”

  “Good point.” Marshall strode over to the nearest case and picked it up in both hands, straining a little under the weight. He said, “Whatever’s in here, it’s not vacation clothes.”

  “Get it open,” said Kate. “If you can. Otherwise I’ve probably got something else in the trunk we can use.”

  “Looks like a simple enough catch.” He fiddled with the handle and Mary heard a satisfying click as the mechanism opened.

  “Voila,” said Kate.

  Marshall lay the case down on the hard floor, got down on one knee, and opened it up carefully. Mary thought she saw his expression tense a little, but if he felt nervous, he was trying not to show it.

  Mary brushed a hand through her hair absent-mindedly. “Anything interesting?”

  Marshall didn’t reply right away. He was still kneeling down, one hand on the outer casing, peering inside. He looked up after a moment.

  “What is it?”

  Marshall kept his eyes on the contents of the case. “I think we’ve found something.” He turned the case around.

  Mary felt her stomach jump into her throat. Kate took an instinctive step back. Nestled inside a pouch of thick black foam, a complicated-looking mess of wires with a red digital display stared up at her. Two clear plastic receptacles were fastened to opposite sides of the circuit board, each filled with a different color liquid – one red, the other green. A steel cylinder nestled in the middle, hooked up to the main power supply. The device looked familiar – close in design to the model she’d seen in Manhattan. But this one looked like it had been given a few upgrades.

  “Shit,” said Kate and Mary in unison. They both glanced at each other.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” said Marshall. “If the payload on this thing is anything like we saw at Blake’s apartment, there’s enough here to level a few city blocks. At least.”

  “We need to tell someone,” said Mary. “Get this place locked down.”

  “Agreed. But we need some time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Think about it,” said Marshall, getting to his feet and leaving the open case on the floor. “This is going to be a jurisdictional nightmare. We’ll have the New Jersey State Police, the NYPD, the Coast Guard, the FBI, and probably the CIA to worry about once this gets out.”

  “The more, the merrier, right?” said Kate.

  “Not exactly,” said Mary. “First thing I’d do if this was my call, I’d firewall this place, ring-fence the other departments out. We can’t afford to get caught up in the red tape. Not with everything we know.”

  “This is your call,” said Marshall. “Sort of, anyway. But you’re right. If we call this in, we’re going to get shut out. Especially given our current circumstances, being dead and all.”

  Kate sighed. “So, just get what evidence you can and then call it in. We don’t need to have a debate every time there’s a decision to be made.”

  Marshall and Mary glared at her.

  “What? You know I’m right,” she said, folding her arms. “Go check out the computer. There’s bound to be something on there. Then you can get the cavalry down here and hope your friends at the Bureau can cut you a little slack.”

  Marshall bit his lip. “It’s your call, Detective.” He looked at Mary.

  “It’s ‘Sergeant,’ actually,” she replied. “I just like to get my hands a little dirty, that’s all.” She allowed herself a brief smile. “Let’s check it out.”

  They headed for the makeshift office, and Marshall took a seat at the desk. He checked the monitor and computer tower for any obvious monitoring devices before tapping the space bar on the keyboard. The monitor flickered into life. He accessed the desktop and double clicked on a file folder. A pop-up box jumped onto the screen, demanding a security code.

  “Looks like a network password,” he said. “I can get into some of the computer’s system settings, but the files look like they’re stored in the cloud. Even if we take the hard drives, there’s nothing useful on them. I can’t access any of the data without the password.”

  Mary peered over his shoulder. “I thought this place was supposed to be off the grid.”

  “It is. There’s no hard line, but that doesn’t stop anyone using wireless.” He pulled out his cell phone. “You can piggyback off a mobile data plan if you activate the Wi-Fi hub feature. If you’re using a prepaid phone, it’s almost impossible to trace if you’ve got GPS turned off.”

  “Can you crack the password?”

  “Not without a little help,” said Marshall. “If I can get online, I can plug this computer’s IP address into our decryption software. I should be able to get through the security layers, depending on what level of encryption they’ve used on their servers. If it’s standard SSL or TSL, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He grinned. “You can thank our friends at the NSA for that one.”

  “We can thank them if it works,” said Mary. “How long is this going to take?”

  “Maybe twenty minutes to get through the security, another minute or two to grab the files. If this works, I can be in and out before Blake realizes his servers are compromised.”

  “They’re going to notice?”

  “This is a professional operation. They’ll see me snooping around the moment I crack the encryption. It’s unavoidable. But, if I’m fast enough, we can get everything we need before they can stop us.”

  Mary gritted her teeth. “Better get started, then. And let’s hope nobody shows up in the meantime.”

  Marshall offered a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mary slapped him on the shoulder. “Just try to stay focused, okay?”

  Kate coughed, a little louder than necessary. “If you two are finished batting eyelids at each other, maybe big sis and I can go check out the rest of this place.”

  Mary felt her cheeks get hot – for the second time that morning. She hoped to hell nobody noticed.

  “Yeah, I got this,” said Marshall. “See if you can find anything else before we call this in.” He took a deep breath. “Just keep your fingers crossed.”

  Mary nodded and followed Kate back out onto the floor. She could hear Marshall typing something onto the keyboard, but resisted the urge to turn her head. She didn’t want to
give Kate any more ammunition.

  “So…” Mary began, searching for words.

  Kate looked back at her, a look of impatience in her eyes. “Listen, sis. You don’t have to pretend to talk to me, you know. I get I’m only here because you needed my help.”

  Mary stopped walking. “You were expecting a warm reception?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  Kate sighed, short and sharp. “Nothing. No problem.”

  Mary didn’t reply, but she noticed her sister bite her bottom lip, looking like she wanted to say something else. Mary decided not to press it.

  “Let’s just get this over with, okay?” she said, eventually. “Then you can go back to your life and I can go back to mine.” She paused, thinking about the last words she said before Leopold climbed onto the jet. She felt a rush of anger, but shook it off in a hurry.

  “Something on your mind?” Kate asked.

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” Mary started walking again, heading toward the back of the warehouse. She waved her sister forward. “Come help me search this place and make yourself useful.”

  Kate smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mary groaned and kept on moving. It was going to be a long twenty minutes waiting for Marshall to hack into the computer files, even without Kate there making her feel like she wanted to punch through the walls. Mary almost wished the bombs would detonate and put her out of her misery.

  Almost.

  Chapter 38

  HAWKES CRADLED HIS broken finger carefully, using his good hand to check for further damage. He felt the base of the proximal phalanx where the bone joined with the metacarpal and noted that the swelling had confined itself to the knuckle area. The break felt clean, although it would be difficult to tell for sure without an x-ray.

  Still, it stung like a bitch. And the throbbing was getting worse. Hawkes knew he wouldn’t be using his right hand for anything productive for at least a few weeks. He wondered how that would affect his marksmanship, among other things. Hawkes pushed the thought out of his head. No sense in worrying about something he couldn’t change.