Green File Crime Thrillers Box Set

by James Kipling

  “If he does,” Alvin continued in a careful voice, “have him drive the van to pick us up. Also...” Alvin glanced at Jacob, “I’m going to need a few supplies; hair dye, scissors, clothes, church clothes. I mean...we need to make it appear that we’re on a little church outing.”

  Jacob reached up with his right hand and rubbed his eyes. Yes, by force he could make Jessica, Mandy and Alvin obey his command, but what good would that do? Jessica seemed to be hiding information that could lead to the virus and the stolen files. Yes, the odds were against them, and the enemy surely seemed to be winning the fight. There were politicians on both sides of the aisle already demanding immediate impeachment hearings against President Green. The American people weren’t objecting. Jacob was fully aware that the Vice-President was a traitor, who was in the perfect position to step into President Green’s shoes and become Roger Alden’s puppet. Yes, the enemy had the upper hand. The Virus, more than the stolen files, was the only weapon that could defeat Roger Alden. “Identification will be a problem, Alvin.”

  “Have your General friend make us up some and mail them to the Pastor,” Alvin demanded.

  “No. That would put Pastor Braston in danger,” Jessica objected.

  “Sister,” Alvin stated, “if the Pastor is willing to help us, he’d better expect trouble. Now, call your friend. And Jacob, call the General. Looks like we have a plan. For now, at least.”

  Jacob turned in his seat, faced the windshield, and watched the heavy snow fall. “Okay,” he said aloud, “we have a plan of action that we will roll with for now. I’ll call General Garcia. Mrs. Mayes, you call Pastor Braston and—”

  Jacob stopped talking when he saw the headlights of a distant vehicle appear in the rearview mirror.

  “We have company approaching!” he yelled out. “No time to change the tire. Everyone out. Get into the snow. Secure yourselves in a safe location! Go!”

  “Here we go again!” Alvin yelled, crouching as he ran to Mandy and grabbed the woman’s wheelchair. “Jessica, get the back doors open. Hurry!”

  Jessica jumped into action, threw the back doors open, and helped Alvin lower Mandy down into the snow. Jacob jumped out of the van, shielded his eyes from the wind and snow, and began examining the approaching vehicle.

  “I can’t see,” he fussed, and quickly withdrew a small pair of palm-sized binoculars from his jacket.

  “What do we have?” Alvin yelled from the back of the van using Jessica’s help to carefully lower Mandy’s wheelchair.

  Jacob peered through the binoculars, zoomed in on the approaching car, and then felt his stomach tighten up. “Black SUV, three of them. One leading the way with the headlights and the last two following in ‘Dark Mode’.”

  “CIA?” Alvin called out.

  “Yes,” Jacob confirmed, studying the three-vehicle caravan. “But how? How did they locate us?” Jacob was unaware that a bum had, without knowing, in order to save his own life, gave the cops four descriptions of four people, who matched the four people that were being broadcast all over the news.

  “Move!” he yelled.

  “Hang on,” Alvin ordered Mandy and burst into a quick run. “Into the woods, Jacob!”

  Jessica didn’t run. Instead, she dived back into the van, grabbed two purses with frantic hands, and then looked at the wheelchair lift her sister had used on countless occasions. “I’m so sorry, sis,” she whispered, and then forced herself back out into the snow, only to be met by Jacob. He forcefully grabbed her arm—with concern rather than anger—and ordered her to move. Jessica nodded her head as her heart raced madly and forced her legs to run toward the snowy wood line.

  The CIA, she felt, would surely kill Mandy, Alvin and Jacob, but they would keep her alive. Why? Because the CIA believed Jessica was in possession of a very deadly virus that could alter the world as well as stolen files that could destroy President Green.

  “Be with me Jack, please,” she begged, as her body burst into the snowy woods, and she ran blindly into the darkening night.

  ((((((((((*))))))))))

  Agent Hayford Day, a former Marine Sniper, who thrived on war, destruction and chaos, saw the headlights of the black SUV he was driving splash across Mandy’s van.

  “Contact,” he said in a cruel voice.

  Agent Shelly Malone, a want-to-be female Rambo, quickly spoke into a black walkie-talkie that had been designed by a team of experts, which allowed clear communication at distances that would make the Russians and Chinese jealous.

  “We have located the van,” she spoke in a tough voice, looking like a short-haired snake wearing an ugly mask. Hayford respected Shelly’s war-style attitude toward life. Sure, the thirty-year-old woman was uglier than yard dirt, but so what? She was more skilled at killing than any man he knew.

  “Luck is on our side,” Shelly told Hayford, dropping the walkie-talkie and checking the M-16 rifle laying across her lap. “Locked and ready.”

  Hayford stopped the black SUV, allowing the headlights to shine on the parked van. “You lead the Red Team, and I’ll lead the Blue Team. You move East, and I’ll move West.” Hayford lifted his right finger and pointed at the van. “Van has a flat, back right tire. Targets are on foot now. They may have seen us approaching or may have already took off.”

  Shelly studied the van and then looked into Hayford’s hard, deadly face. The man was ten years her senior, handsome—well, at least in Shelly’s eyes—and smart as a whip. She trusted Hayford with her life.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, as she grabbed the walkie-talkie again and nodded her head. “Red Team, on my dime now! Move!”

  She jumped out of the SUV and jogged over to the van. Four men, all wearing black combat suits like Shelly’s joined the woman at the van with their own M-16 rifles at the ready.

  “Secure the van!” The four-man team quickly secured the van in a SWAT team operational style.

  “Van is clear,” she waved at Hayford, and then added, “We have tracks!”

  Hayford crawled out of the black SUV and waved his hand at the vehicle parked behind him.

  “Blue Team, move!” Four men, nearly identical to the four-man team under Shelly’s command, piled out of the SUV and joined Hayford.

  “Secure the building,” he ordered in a stern tone and then joined Shelly to investigate the tracks that Jessica, Mandy, Alvin and Jacob had left behind in the snow.

  “Those tracks were made by a wheelchair,” he pointed at the ground. “Tracks are fresh.”

  Shelly didn’t need to wait for an order. She snatched out a black cell phone and called Operations. “I want a three-mile radius barrier put up now,” she ordered, as Hayford snatched a map out of his coat pocket. “Coordinates are...”

  Hayford slammed the map against the passenger’s side of the van and began calling off coordinates to Shelly.

  “Get the black hawks into the air,” he ordered. “Keep the local idiots out of my area, too. I’m about to track me down some prey.”

  Shelly continued to call out orders. She finished with, “Let Mr. Alden know we have located our four missing blank bullets.”

  Hayford studied the map carefully and then put it away.

  “Pat,” he barked at a member of the Red Team, “take Brent and block off the south lanes. Greg, take Louis and block off the north lanes, three miles in each direction. No one passes, not even the local idiots. Shelly, you’re with me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Shelly grinned as members of the Blue Team exploded out of the abandoned gas station and waved an ‘All Clear’ sign into the air.

  “Andy and Eric,” Hayford barked, “stay 300 meters to my right. Ben and Charlie, you stay 300 meters to my left. Shelly and I will move directly forward, following the tracks. Keep a 100-meter distance between yourselves. Do not fire. I repeat, do not fire. Mr. Alden wants Jessica Mayes alive.”

  “What if we’re fired at, Sir?” Andy Cartwright asked Hayford, anxious for the chance to kill.


  “Kill only if needed, but the woman must be taken alive,” Hayford ordered. “We have our orders, but we’re not going to be sitting duck’s either. Mr. Alden will have to deal with that.”

  Andy grinned and nodded his head. “Night vision goggles on now!”

  “Yes, Sir,” Shelly smiled, slid on a pair of night vision goggles that were sitting on her head and then allowed Hayford to go 100 meters in front of her, before walking into the dark woods.

  Hayford carefully began following the wheelchair tracks that were being created by Mandy.

  “She’s moving the slowest,” he whispered, as his hands caressed a 338 Lapua Magnum rifle covered with arctic camouflage. Hayford had no intention of taking anyone alive except Jessica Mayes.

  ((((((((((*))))))))))

  Jacob understood the reality of the situation. The CIA had sent a team of hired killers to eradicate everyone except Jessica. And to make matters worse, Mandy’s wheelchair was slowing down any chance of escape.

  “General, we need an extraction,” he spoke into a black cell phone.

  General Garcia was pacing angrily back and forth in front of his desk.

  “Orders have been given to create a three-mile zone around your location. Black hawks have been ordered into the air. I can’t risk a confrontation. It would be a political disaster if the media reported that the Pentagon sent in a team to extract four terrorists while attacking CIA operatives. We both know such a move would allow Roger Alden all the room he would need to become a national hero. President Green is barely managing to stand on one leg as it is.”

  “How did they find us?” Jacob demanded, moving past a tall, frozen, snow-soaked tree covered with night shadows. “Answers!”

  “A law officer in your vicinity was killed. A homeless man reported that he saw you—the people in your party—kill the law officer,” General Garcia explained. “This was less than two hours ago. Alden is moving fast. He has stand-by teams stationing themselves everywhere and, with the state-level authorities on his side and federal turncoats everywhere, Jacob…my hands are tied.”

  Jacob stopped behind a snowy tree and sighed. “I should have checked the warehouse,” he groaned. “This is my fault.”

  “Son, you’re doing all that you can.”

  “I should have checked the warehouse,” Jacob heard his groan grow into fury. “Satellites?”

  “Still down,” General Garcia stated without becoming upset at Jacob’s tone. He understood.

  “I need eyes, General.”

  General Garcia hurried over to his computer. “I have your location pulled up,” he said, as his eyes locked onto a map. “The best I can offer is a cave that is three quarters of a mile East of you.”

  “A cave?”

  Jessica spotted Jacob talking on his phone through the dark shadows, as she helped Alvin push Mandy’s wheelchair through the deep snow.

  “This is pointless,” Mandy cried. “I’m slowing everyone down.”

  “You can’t walk,” Alvin popped at Mandy, struggling to push her wheelchair through the dark woods. “We can barely see where we’re going. We don’t need you to get lost.”

  “Stay here,” Jessica begged, breathing hard as frozen streams of breath left her mouth and flooded out into the night air. She ran over to Jacob, so she could hear his conversation.

  “Your area is littered with underground caves,” General Garcia explained. “I’m sending the map to your cell phone now.”

  Jacob looked into Jessica’s scared face, and then heard a very low ding from his phone. The map had arrived.

  “Okay, I’ve got the map. Thanks, General.”

  “Don’t thank me,” General Garcia responded. “Jacob, if you‘re captured, it will come down to two choices: Activating Operation ‘Take America Back’, or back down. As it stands right now, the media has already brainwashed the masses. I fear that Operation ‘Take America Back’ would backfire. Son, you’re on your own. My hands are tied.”

  “Yeah, I guess they are,” Jacob said, studying the map General Garcia had sent him, and keeping his hand over the glow of the phone. “We’re in a political nightmare, and Alden is winning,” he continued. “I understand your position, General. Inform...” Jacob quickly glanced at Jessica, “inform President Green that if worse comes to worse, I will eliminate the three parties I am with, and then eliminate myself.”

  General Garcia closed his eyes. “It’s the only way, son. If Roger Alden ever gets his hands on the virus Jack Mayes created, there will be no stopping him.”

  Jacob nodded his head. “A job with adventure,” he said in a grave voice. He ended the call and focused directly on Jessica. “You know we can’t be taken alive, Mrs. Mayes, right?”

  “I...yes,” Jessica whispered, as her head dropped into a grief-stricken bow. “What options do we have?”

  “Hide,” Jacob answered Jessica, and then jogged over to Alvin. “Anyone up for some spelunking?” he asked.

  “What?” Mandy gasped. “Are you crazy?”

  “No, the man isn’t crazy,” Alvin said, struggling to read Jacob’s shadowy face. “You got a location?” Jacob nodded his head. “Then let’s move.”

  “First,” Jacob pointed out and quickly glanced over his shoulder at Jessica, “I need to make it very clear that no one is allowed to be taken alive. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I get the deal, man. Let’s move,” Alvin ordered.

  Jacob nodded his head and looked around. “Follow my lead,” he told everyone, and then broke into a slow jog. Alvin waved at Jessica to help him with Mandy. Jessica quickly ran to her sister and began helping Alvin pull the wheelchair through the snow.

  “Oh...forget this!” Alvin growled.

  “What are you doing?” Mandy gasped, feeling Alvin let go of her wheelchair.

  Alvin ran around to the front of the wheelchair and asked Jessica to stand aside. Without any notice, he swooped Mandy up into his arms and threw the poor woman over his shoulder.

  “Move!” he ordered Jessica.

  “I’m okay,” Mandy called out to her sister. “Jessie, get moving!”

  Jessica drew in a nervous breath and then took off at a jog. Alvin, who was a man in good shape for his age, took off after Jessica, keeping on her tail. Jacob, watching his group catch up, checked his phone, and then took off at a light run. As he did, a single bullet exploded into the air and struck the tree he had been standing by, missing his head by a mere second. And Jacob knew it was a mere second and nothing more.

  “Go!” he yelled without looking back into the darkness. He didn’t know that a drunk hunter had fired at him instead of Hayford and his team of hired killers.

  Hayford heard the gunshot in the distance.

  “Hold up,” he snapped into his walkie-talkie, allowing his eyes to study the snowy woods, that were now a bright green in front of him. “Report.”

  “I’m clear,” Andy called in.

  “Clear,” Eric called in.

  “Clear,” Ben added.

  “Clear,” Charlie finished.

  “Clear on my end,” Shelly brought up the rear. “Sounded like a hunting rifle.”

  “Yes, it did,” Hayford agreed as he looked back and forth. “We are on the edge of a wildlife preserve,” he explained. “Keep your eyes peeled for civilians.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Shelly answered Hayford, as her ears caught the sound of two approaching black hawks. “Black hawks approaching, Sir!”

  “Have the pilots begin a zone search, running vertically and horizontally to our position,” Hayford ordered.

  Shelly got on the horn. “Hawk 1, begin a vertical zone search. Hawk 2, begin a horizontal search.”

  Hayford continued to study the woods. “Move out,” he snapped into his walkie-talkie, “and spread out into 200-meter gaps.”

  Josh Potter, a forty-one-year-old drunk, who worked for the city of Grayfield for pennies, assumed he had shot at a deer. He was out h
unting, drunk as a skunk, because Noel Bates had dumped him cold. Hunting and drinking were Josh’s two best friends when he was upset.

  “Stupid...deer,” he slurred. He threw his hunting rifle over his shoulder and then picked a bottle of vodka up off the snow. “I’ll...get you deer...just wait and see.”

  Josh staggered over to a tree, plopped down on the snow, and began working on the vodka bottle. A few minutes later he heard movement in the distance.

  “Ah...you’re back,” he spoke in a drunken voice, barely able to see straight. “I’ll show...you.” Josh dropped the vodka bottle, retrieved his hunting rifle with great effort and managed to stand up without falling over.

  “I’ll show you...” he said again and fired blindly off into the distance.

  Hayford Day, who had spent his adult years tracking down prey with his sniper rifle, never felt the bullet Josh fired. It entered his head and ended his life. His head jerked back on his shoulders, as blood appeared in the falling snow. His body crumpled to the ground. One shot. One kill by a drunk who was out hunting because he was angry and heart-broken over some bar room woman who had given him a pink slip.

  Shelly waited for Hayford to issue a ‘Call-In’ order. When she didn’t hear his voice on her walkie-talkie, she knew something was horribly wrong.

  “Call in!” Andy, Ben, Eric and Charlie all called in. Hayford did not.

  “No...no!” Shelly cried and began running through the snow toward Hayford’s location. Minutes later, she found him lying dead in the snow.

  “Man down! Get an EVAC team in here now!” she yelled into her walkie-talkie. “Call the black hawks back. I need an EVAC now!”

  ((((((((((*))))))))))

  Jacob, hearing a second gun shot and unaware that a drunk had killed one of his enemies, continued to run through the snow with Jessica right behind him. Alvin, bless his heart, was managing to keep a steady pace but was quickly growing tired.

  “How much further?” Alvin called out, breathing hard.

  Jacob slid to a stop and ordered to Alvin, “Hand me Mandy.”

  Alvin drew in a deep breath and carefully placed Mandy onto Jacob’s shoulder, as he looked around. “How much further?”