Radioactive (The Rayna Tan Action Thriller Series Book 4)

by Wes Lowe

There was a pause. “Will you do two of us for that price?”

  “No. But I will do it for $150,000.”

  “Okay, Jasmina. We’ll do it. Just go to the airport and…”

  Get a telephone number!

  “Wait. I have to tell you something. I was very rough with my last client… and he matched me blow for blow. I want to text you a picture to make sure you approve. Can I use this number you are calling from?”

  “No. Use 376.764.8890.”

  Moments later, Rayna sent the photo. Wearing a black, plunging, high-slit minidress without a bra, Rayna was damn hot. Laara had chosen a unique approach to the lacerations on Rayna’s body. Instead of trying to disguise them, she accentuated the bruises on her arms and the abrasions on her face. In addition to enhancing the contusions on her legs, she added blood pouring from the mouth of the dragon on her left thigh.

  Davy replied immediately. “You are perfect.”

  Got it.

  Rayna murmured an airy smooth reply. “I am more than perfect. Put the rest of the money into my account. Just text me the flight info and I will be there.”

  Rayna hung up and blurted out a vomiting sound. “Gag me with a spoon and kill me.” Covering her eyes with her hands, she asked, “So where am I going?”

  Barry answered, “He’s in Kansas City. We’ll get someone there for backup.”

  “Yes, but let me go in alone first.” It was a statement, not a request. “If he sees I’m with someone, that could scare him off.”

  Vanessa jumped in. “We’ve found an unusual and unexpected connection. The primary explosive used to blow up the Ford Explorer was triacetone triperoxide. TATP. The Mother of Satan. It’s easy to make, hard to detect, but because of its instability it’s not commonly used. It might just be bad luck, but when the truck was speeding off it might have hit a bump jolting the TATP enough to trigger the explosion. And I got something else.”

  On Rayna’s cell, a grayish blue speck of about a quarter-inch square appeared.

  “We got this from the debris Barry stuffed into his pockets; a piece of skin off the neck of one of the killers.”

  Vanessa zoomed in on the speck until it was the size of a fist. No longer a random speck, it was a small pointed pear on top of a thin rod.

  “What the heck is that?” asked Rayna.

  Julio’s voice was grave. “That’s a pear-shaped diamond on top of a pole. There are six of these that radiate out from a central round diamond shape. It’s the insignia of Los Temidos, the “Feared Ones,” a small but brutal cartel. The previous night, there was a Los Temidos house that was blown up in Riverside, and guess what the primary explosive was? TATP.”

  Reuben hollered from the background, “The FBI report has just been updated. There are traces of CESIUM 137 in the debris at both the Explorer and the cartel house. Cesium is fissile material. It can also be used to make dirty bombs.”

  Rayna froze at the implications of the Cesium finding. “What the hell is the connection between the Conquistador and cartel house?”

  Barry shook his head. “That’s the million dollar question, but my guess is that Carter’s got to be the key.” His eyes swiveled and bore into Rayna’s. “A cartel house blown up. One of their murderers vaporized after he executed the wife of a prospective political candidate. Mother of Satan explosive. Radioactive material at each site. That candidate has disappeared. We’ve got to find Carter. He’s the key.”

  Julio grunted. “We tried to decode the voice from Executive Travel but the software the caller used was so sophisticated that it was impossible to properly identify who he was. It might be Carter but it might not.”

  “That’s not good enough. We need to keep looking,” said Barry.

  Half an hour later, Rayna was on a direct flight to Kansas City.

  43

  Lethal Attraction

  Rayna felt like a female James Bond with all the cool gadgets that Julio had provided her. A knockout agent concealed behind a diamond in her ring; a miniature Geiger counter implanted in one oversized earring. The other earring contained a microphone and transmitter that would allow messages to be heard and communicated. A poisoned blade tip was concealed in the stiletto of her high heels. Inside her Hermès leather clutch was a lipstick case that could discharge a disorienting gas, a pen that contained a GPS unit that would allow her to be tracked, and a diminutive explosives trace detector (ETD) integrated into her Italian designer compact case. She wore special green contact lenses that were embedded with miniature transmitting cameras.

  After the four hour flight, the plane landed at the Kansas City International Airport where a dark-skinned man with even darker hair held up a placard with “Miss J” in large handwritten letters on it.

  “Miss Jasmina, welcome to Kansas City. I will take you directly to your destination,” said the driver with a distinct Ethiopian accent.

  He led her to a black Lincoln Continental, opened and closed the door for her, then assumed the driver’s seat. “We will be at our destination within half an hour.”

  Being driven in one of America’s most revered limousines, Rayna wondered what kind of opulence might greet her next. She had gotten onto the plane before the geeks were able to get images of where she would be going to.

  Although Rayna was too much of a pro to be shocked, she would never have guessed that their destination was an old abandoned school that had clearly been lowbrow even when it was new.

  “We’re here,” announced the driver as he parked at the school entrance.

  As he got out and opened the limo door for her, Rayna maintained her aloof demeanor at the sight of the man wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a characteristic tailor-made suit. She noted his skin, what little there was that was exposed, was pallid with blotches that could not be completely disguised even with his use of foundation and concealer. She also detected a faint acrid smell of diarrhea and stale urine.

  This was Carter? Was this Carter? Other than being about the same height, there wasn’t much resemblance-unless this guy was trying to disguise himself too. She had barely noticed him before all hell broke out at the Conquistador. Did the Geek Freaks make a mistake? This was the only lead that had had any substance, so Rayna had to play it out.

  “Jasmina, I’m so glad to see you again,” rasped the man as the limousine left the premises, leaving the two of them alone.

  Rayna nodded in fake recognition. As her eyes lasered onto the man in front of her, her tongue flicked out and slowly licked her lips. Her soft voice with a Chinese accent purred in excitement of things to come. “I remember you. You were the first person I saw when I got off the helicopter. As soon as I laid eyes on you, I wanted to rip your clothes off and have you annihilate my body.”

  With electricity surging through his body, Davy’s forehead beaded sweat. She saw me, not Carter! “Come, you filthy Chink slut. I will destroy your body, your mind and soul. I’m going to hurt you so bad, and you’re gonna cry and beg and whimper for me to stop, but you won’t let me because tomorrow I’m gonna shove a hundred and fifty grand into your privates and you’ll beg me for more.”

  “Oh yes… yes…” Rayna exhaled passionately. She sauntered slowly toward him, lifting the slit in her dress, then waving it to expose her lithe luscious legs. “You like? You like? I want to see you, all of you. I will wrap myself around you.”

  Davy melted. He was going to die soon enough but heaven was already here. He lifted the sunglasses off his face. “Yes, yes. Here I am. Jasmina, I’m yours. Let’s do it now.” He began unbuckling his belt.

  Rayna froze three steps in front of him. This was definitely not the man she came to see. “You lie to Jasmina. Jasmina no like. I am here for real man. Where is Carter? He is the one I want. He is the one I saw.”

  Davy shouted, “Stop. He’ll be back tomorrow. He had to do something today. He’ll be back tomorrow. Today is my turn. You have to do me first.”

  “Forget it.” Rayna spun on her heels but before she made a step, Da
vy whipped out a gun and fired a shot into the air. His voice turned hard. “Now turn around and come back, bitch!”

  Rayna turned around slowly. She recognized the weapon as an older .38 Smith & Wesson Special. From the way Davy handled it, she could tell he was an inexperienced shooter. That didn’t change the fact that her life was in imminent danger. You didn’t need to be a trained marksman to hit someone at this distance of less than ten feet.

  The badass bitch spoke. “You think you scare me with the little pistol in your hand? I see that the one between your legs is even smaller. One bite and it’s gone. I will show you real pain, so much you will beg for more.”

  Davy was completely flustered. This was not at all what was supposed to have happened. The gun fluttered up and down as he screamed, “Take your clothes off now! We will do it here! I can satisfy you in ways you never even dreamed of. And we paid for the two of us.”

  “Well, I changed my mind, now that I see what a pathetic piece of crap you are. Carter is the one I came for. He is the one I want. Tell me where Carter is now!” commanded Rayna.

  Carter. It was always Carter. From Sally Wong in elementary school to his half million dollar a year habit of degrading, abusing, and completely dominating some of the most expensive, sensual, and gorgeous Oriental whores in the universe, it was always Carter. Much as Davy tried to live vicariously through his friend’s exploits, it was never really satisfying. And it wouldn’t be satisfying now.

  “Bitch!”

  It was the last word that Davy ever spoke. Much as he was jealous of Carter, his vow to his mother of “making the bastards pay” was still the prime motivating force of his life, and he would never abandon that promise. He was going to die anyway so he had to protect Carter, the only person who had as much stake in carrying out their mission.

  He turned the gun away from Rayna and placed it under his chin. Rayna lunged toward Davy’s arm in the desperate hope of pushing his arm away so that the bullet would not reach its intended target.

  But fast as she was, Rayna wasn’t fast enough. By the time her outstretched arms arrived to deflect the gun’s position, Davy had fired. The bullet rocketed upward through his lower jaw, his mandible, through his brain, and then exited through the top of his skull. The nerve endings in his scalp were activated, causing a brief indescribable pain. The gun clattered to the ground and a fraction of a second later, Davy collapsed on top of it, dead.

  “Now what?” Rayna gasped through the comms. “I got nothing. We don’t even know who this guy is.”

  “Take his clothes off and give us a thorough look at his face, body and fingerprints,” said Julio. “This guy gave us a valuable clue when he said Carter is coming back tomorrow. Whatever he’s up to is going to happen within the next twenty-four hours.”

  Rayna disrobed the man in front of her and let the camera in her contacts roam over his body. When she had finished, Julio said, “Now search the building. Find out if there’s anything that could lead us to Carter’s whereabouts. Laptops, computers, tablets, telephones, even televisions might be able to help us,” added Julio.

  “Got it.” Rayna took off the bulky earring with the Geiger counter and pulled the compact with the ETD out of her clutch. “Going inside.”

  As soon as she stepped inside the door, the Geiger counter emitted a faint intermittent clicking.

  “Follow the sound to its source,” ordered Julio.

  “Will do,” responded Rayna. “I guess there’s no time to get me a lead-lined suit, is there?” she murmured.

  “If the levels get too high, we’ll tell you to stop,” said Julio. He knew that Rayna was thinking of how it might affect her future. While limited radiation exposure caused outcomes of minimal concern, too high an exposure could cause infertility or problems with pregnancies.

  Rayna stepped slowly down the hall, letting the weak clicking sounds guide her footsteps. As she walked toward the opposite end of the school, the clicking sound grew stronger but still not at the danger level as she arrived at the closed door of the gym.

  As Rayna opened the door, the radiation level shot skyward. She saw worktables with piles of disassembled equipment, and garbage containers overflowing with electronic parts. Scanning the room, she saw strewn on the floors and tables chlorine, TNT, gunpowder, fuses and detonators.

  At the far wall, she saw two large refrigerators, empty glass beakers, and distillation equipment. She pulled out her compact as she ran to them. She knew that explosives were often kept cold to increase stability. Arriving at the fridge, she opened its door and waved the compact ETD to catch samples of vapor and air particles. She looked at the reading and saw that the vapor signature detected TATP.

  “Oh shit!” She ran back to the gym’s door, and shut it. “The Geiger counter detected elevated levels of radiation when it was close to some of the disassembled medical equipment. Also, there were a lot of ETD traces detected in storage boxes and refrigerators.”

  Julio stated, “They must have built the bombs that blew up the Explorer and the Los Temidos house here. From what I can see, there’s enough stuff here to build several dirty bombs with who knows how big a magnitude of TNT equivalence. If this dead guy was right and Carter is returning tomorrow, they are going to detonate the bombs sometime in the next twenty-four hours. The key is to find Carter.”

  Vanessa added grimly. “Using facial recognition, there is no record of this guy in any known database. And the skin structure on his fingertips is so damaged or diseased that it’s impossible to authenticate his identity.

  “Thank you. Thank you,” said Barry into his cell phone. He disconnected and said to the geeks, “I’ve finally tracked down Harold. He’s at LAX.”

  44

  Hardball

  Barry flashed his Executive Club membership, then stepped into the Delta Airlines Sky Club lounge. He spotted Senator Johnson looking outside from the floor-to-ceiling glass window over the tarmac. He strode directly to the politician and sat in the empty chair across from him.

  “What’s the matter, Barry? What was so urgent that you wanted me to cancel my flight to Washington?” asked Harold. “I hope you’re not in any kind of trouble, Barry. I’ll do anything I can to help you out.”

  Barry’s tone was no-nonsense acerbic. “It’s not me. It’s Carter. Where is he?”

  Johnson was taken aback at Barry’s sharp tone. “He’s devastated. Didn’t you hear his press conference? He wants privacy to clear his head, and he’ll be incognito for a week before he re-surfaces. What’s this about, Barry?”

  “Harold, there’s a connection between the explosion of the truck that carried Marlena’s assassin at the Conquistador, and the bombing of a drug cartel house in Riverside several hours earlier. Both of them used TATP as the primary explosive. Another common factor is that there were trace elements of fissile material at each location—Cesium 137 to be exact. Carter is part of the energy division at Sommers Dawson Archer, right?”

  Harold looked at Barry askance. “That’s ridiculous and insulting. Carter has a law degree from Harvard, and Sommers Dawson Archer is one of the most prestigious firms in the country. Carter now wants to serve his country in a greater capacity, just like his father. You’re an investment banker. How would someone like you know about these kinds of things?”

  Barry was unfazed by the blowhard politician. “None of my clients have ever made less than fifteen percent a year, and the returns are often more than a hundred percent. I do that by having the most sophisticated intelligence available to me about all matters. And whenever I put money into something, be it a stock, a development project, or a campaign donation, I need to know everything about what I’m putting money into. When you asked me to donate to Carter, you asked me to invest my clients’ money into him. If there is a problem, I have to know why… Just like I do with you.”

  Barry opened a gray folder and spread out three damning pages in front of the senator, outlining the amount of kickbacks and the specific favors given to the sen
ator by lobbyists, companies, and individuals that wanted his assistance or intervention in a ruling, judgment, or contract.

  Senator Johnson’s neck stiffened, and his face went scarlet.

  “How the hell…”

  “When I said, I know everything, I know everything. Now, tell me about Carter,” ordered Barry.

  Johnson’s body sagged and he spoke in a low monotone. “I’ve been grooming him since birth to achieve what I never could—to be the president of the United States. He never said “No,” and always did whatever I wanted, but never more… He wasn’t hungry like a tiger needs to be…There was no one more shocked than me when he completely out of the blue announced he wanted to take a run for governor. But he’s not a killer.”

  “What about you and Carter? What’s your relationship like?” grilled Barry.

  Harold bit his lip. “He hates me. Blames me for his mother committing suicide.”

  Barry pulled out his smart phone and showed Harold a picture of the dead Davy’s face. “Who is this?”

  Harold reeled back in horror. “Never seen him before. What’s this about?”

  Ignoring Harold’s reaction, Barry re-stated. “Who is this? Look again. Hard.”

  The edge in Barry’s voice made Harold study the image more intently. “That’s impossible,” said Harold in a soft voice. “He’s dead. That’s Carter’s best friend since elementary school, Davy Adams; a medical specialist in radiation oncology. But he died in a car crash three years ago.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “Not much. I was working in junior management at Three Mile Island in 1979. Davy’s father was a victim of radiation poisoning. That asshole had an affair with my then wife. Do you know where they did it? In the damn reactor room. His mother fell ill years later and Davy thought she was another radiation casualty. It was a ridiculous idea, but I had to play nice because he and Carter were such good friends. Davy was so deluded. He thought I had something to do with it.”