Dead End

by Jeramy Gates

  Valkyrie Smith, Book 3

  Dead End

  By:

  Jeramy Gates

  Published by Timber Hill Press

  Chapter 1

  Valkyrie twisted the steering wheel, maneuvering the Packard around a tight corner. Blue and red lights flashed in the rear-view mirror, weaving in and out of the trees, forming into orbs of washed-out color in the low-lying fog and then becoming brilliant again as the mist thinned. Overhead, the sky was clear and black, littered with a million scattered points of light. Fresh, icy air blew in through the cracked window. The night smelled of Oregon pine, fog, and damp earth. The scent was at odds with her situation, like an object out of place in a photograph.

  Pine, she thought. The scent of a car chase…

  Matt’s anxious voice sounded through the speakerphone: “Val, I think they’re closing in.”

  “They’re already here,” she said.

  Valkyrie glanced at the GPS on the Packard’s handmade burl dash, but the screen was dark. It wasn’t working. Next to it, the little blue numbers on the clock blinked persistently the incorrect time. Valkyrie hadn’t reset the electronics since her battery troubles earlier that week. She would have fixed it right away under normal circumstances, but the last three days had been a whirlwind.

  It had begun in Billings, where she’d had a run-in with a mean-tempered US Marshall. After a narrow escape and a solid twelve-hour drive to Seattle, she’d had car trouble. Thankfully, before his death her husband Tom had modernized the car’s electrical system. Otherwise, Val would still be stuck in Seattle waiting for a new generator. Tom’s upgrade to a modern 12-volt electrical system with an off-the-shelf alternator had saved her again.

  Then Val got the phone call that had started her on this current trajectory:

  “He’s coming for me,” the Informant had said. “He’s going to kill me.”

  The memory of his words still brought a chill. Perhaps it had been the Informant’s carelessness that had led to his dire situation. It was that same carelessness that had allowed Matt to trace the call, to locate the man’s position in the Portland area. Or, maybe it was a trap. The only thing she knew for sure was that the police in Portland seemed to have been notified in advance of her coming. They’d been waiting for her.

  “Matt,” Val said. “There must be a way to slow these police cars down. An EMP, or something like that?”

  Matt sighed. “Val, do you know anything about technology?”

  “I know how to hang up.”

  “Funny. Look, if I had license plates or VIN numbers, maybe… It just doesn’t work that way. I can’t just immobilize a bunch of squad cars at random. Not without a nuke, and I don’t think you’d like the results.”

  “So what can you do?”

  He sighed. “I’m going to pull up the blueprints on the local jail. After they arrest you, I’ll arrange to-”

  The tires squealed as Valkyrie slammed on the brakes. The Packard drifted through a sharp turn, clouds of smoke and dust billowing up as she hit the shoulder of the road and then stomped on the accelerator. The supercharged V12 made a whining sound like a jet engine taking off. The acceleration threw her back in the seat. She winced as spasms gripped her spine. A moan escaped her lips.

  “You okay?” Matt said.

  Valkyrie made a grunting noise. “Rough road. Are you tracking me right now?”

  “For a few more minutes. Then, I lose the satellite.”

  “There must be something between here and there… Somewhere I can lose them.”

  “I don’t know-”

  “Just a few minutes, Matt! That’s all I need.”

  She heard the clicking sounds of his computer keyboard. A squad car closed in behind her, the wailing sound of its siren drowning out everything else. Val caught the bitter scent of burning rubber and hoped it was just her tires. The last thing she needed was to break down in the middle of a car chase.

  How old is that V12 engine? she thought. How many of its parts are eighty-plus-year-old originals?

  “Valkyrie?”

  “Speak up Matt, I can barely hear you.”

  “There’s a road coming up. There’s a sharp left coming out of the next curve. Take it.”

  She narrowed her eyes, scanning the lane ahead. The headlight beams bounced off the irregular, crumbling pavement. Towering evergreens loomed over the road, their dark shadows blocking out her view of the midnight sky. The road made a gentle curve to the left, the right, and suddenly -Val slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel. The shriek of tires filled the night, clouds of dust enveloping the car. Tree trunks flashed in her vision. Branches and undergrowth stretched like fingers into the road, scratching against the fenders.

  The Packard lurched onto an uneven dirt lane. The car bounced, sending jolts of pain up and down Valkyrie’s back. She tightened her grip as the wheel shook in her hands. “I think I lost them,” she said, glancing into the mirror.

  “Not for long,” Matt said. “They missed the turn, but they’re already turning around.”

  “Great. What now?”

  He took a breath. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “There’s a bridge up ahead, about a quarter mile. That’s where you’ll lose them.”

  They were silent for a few seconds as Valkyrie navigated her way down the tunnel-like lane. Finally, the woods opened up. The bright full moon hung suspended over the hills like a brilliant silver medallion. Up ahead loomed the dark silhouette of an old covered wooden bridge. Even in the dark, it looked ancient.

  “I see it,” she said. “Are you sure that thing will hold me?”

  “You should be fine.”

  Val eased back on the accelerator and worked the brakes as she approached the opening. She slowed to a crawl as she entered the bridge. The wooden planks made creaking sounds under the tires that did nothing to ease her worries. She could imagine the darkness gaping up at her from below, the wood starting to splinter under the weight of the vehicle, the abyss opening wide to swallow her.

  The fall would paralyze her, she thought. Even if it was only twenty feet, the landing would be enough to finish her already damaged spine. She’d lay there with icy cold water creeping up her legs and torso, closing in around her chest, and finally-

  “You there?” Matt said.

  “I’m here,” she gasped. “What next?”

  “When you’re halfway across the bridge, park the car.”

  Her eyebrows tightened into knots. “What?”

  “Sorry, Val. It’s the only way. You’re going to have to leave the car behind. We can get it later.”

  “But what do I-”

  “Just shut it off. I’ll kill the computer from here.”

  “What about the cops?”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll have to push it by hand to get it across the bridge, or wait for a tow truck. The only way around is ten miles down the road. This will give you the time you need.”

  Val slammed on the brakes, shoved it into park, and turned off the ignition. She pulled a Bluetooth earpiece out of the console and activated it as the touch screen on the dash went dark. She put the device on her ear. “Can you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “What do I do now?”

  “Follow the road to a driveway on the right.”

  “How far?”

  “About three hundred feet.”

  The scent of the woods enveloped her as Val grabbed her cane and hurried away from the Packard. The night air was cool and fragrant with the scent of damp woods, earth, and wildflower blossoms. Her heels clicked on the wooden bridge, and she could hear the bubbling sounds of a creek somewhere in the darkness below.

  The bridge gave way to a narrow, roc
ky lane. Up ahead, Val located the driveway. She climbed a gentle slope to a small cabin set back in the woods. The place was dark and seemingly deserted. A spooky silence hung over the forest, suppressing the sound of her footsteps. Tendrils of fog drifted across the treetops, imbued by the moonlight with an eerie luminescent glow.

  Val moved with caution, drawing her gaze across the abandoned property. She became conscious of the weight of the Colt 1911 in her shoulder holster. “Matt,” she said. “What am I doing here?”

  “Go around the cabin,” his voice said in her ear.

  Val did, picking her way across the uneven terrain in slow, meticulous steps. Behind the building, she came abruptly to a collection of snowmobiles. There were five of them, lined up perfectly facing the back wall. Her face twisted into a grimace. “Matt, you must be kidding me. Please tell me this isn’t your plan.”

  “Sorry, Val. I told you, you weren’t going to like it.”

  “There’s not even any snow!”

  “It doesn’t matter. You only have a few miles to go. It should hold up that long.”

  “I haven’t ridden one of these things since I was ten years old. I’m not even sure how to start it!”

  “Some have pull starts. The newer ones might have an electric starter. Look for one with a starter button.”

  Val groaned. She pulled out her cell phone and activated the flashlight app.

  Chapter 2

  The squad cars were ten deep by the time Special Agent Roger Castillo pulled up to the bridge. Somebody named Sgt. Lawrence came up to the SUV as he parked. Roger rolled down the window and reached for his I.D.

  “Get this car out of here,” the sergeant said. “You’re going to have to turn-” Roger flashed his badge. The sergeant’s demeanor immediately changed. “Oh, sorry. Chief’s up here.” He gave a nod of his head.

  Roger followed Sergeant Lawrence through the maze of flashing lights and onto the bridge, where he found the chief on the phone. He was arguing with someone, apparently a towing company. “I don’t care,” the chief said. “Get that truck out here now!” He hung up and turned to glare at Castillo. “Who are you?”

  “He’s a fed,” said the Sergeant.

  “Just what I need.”

  The chief was a tall heavyset man with a broad forehead and square jaw. He had clear blue eyes that seemed to burn with an angry, piercing gaze. The nametag on his shirt read H. Howard. Castillo put his hands on his hips, brushing back his jacket to reveal his badge, now hanging from his belt, and the Glock 22 on the other side. “Is there a problem, chief?”

  “I told you to wait for me in town. I told your people we can handle this.”

  Castillo didn’t respond, but instead pushed past the chief. He circled the Packard and then stood gazing into the dark woods beyond the bridge. “Did you send men after her?”

  “Why bother?” Chief Howard growled. “There’s nowhere to go out there, but the airport.”

  Castillo frowned. “The airport? And you don’t think that’s a problem?”

  “It’s in the middle of the woods. She’d be crazy to try to fly out of here after dark.”

  The agent narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue. “Tell your men to push this vehicle out of the way.”

  “We haven’t tested it for prints yet.”

  “You don’t need prints. The driver’s name is Valkyrie Smith, and the car is registered in her name.”

  The chief opened his mouth to protest, but clamped it shut when he saw the special agent’s glare. He whistled to get the officers’ attention. He gave the order, and they all went to work. Their efforts sounded to Castillo more like a grunting contest than an organized effort. One rookie cop crawled inside and fought to twist the steering wheel straight while the car rocked.

  “Is it in neutral?” said one of the officers.

  “Of course!” said the man inside the car. “I’m not an idiot.”

  Castillo leaned closed to the passenger window. In a low voice, he said, “Take off the emergency brake, moron.”

  The rookie’s face fell as he realized his mistake. He waved his flashlight around, locating the handle under the dashboard, and released the brake. Finally, the car started rolling.

  The roar of a 900cc four-stroke engine brought their attention to the woods at the far side of the bridge. A light flashed through the trees, off to their right and up the hill. A moment later, a snowmobile came roaring onto the road. The vehicle’s track made grinding sounds as it bounced along the hard ground, and sparks shot out from under the metal skis as they scraped the exposed rocks. The headlight threw a broad beam across the road and up into the trees.

  The entire force stared in disbelief as the snowmobile’s driver throttled up and took off in the opposite direction. Finally, the chief came to his senses. “Move that car!” he bellowed. “Move it, move it, move it!”

  Chapter 3

  Val held on for dear life as the handlebars shook in her grip. Sparks flashed under the skis and rained down in showers on the road behind her. The trees closed in. The road narrowed. The cold wind whipped her hair back, and tears rolled down her cheeks. A quick glance over her shoulder reassured her that they weren’t following yet. She wondered if the squad cars would be able to make it down that narrow path. It was doubtful. A smile came to her lips.

  “You there?” she said into the headset.

  “Yeah, I can barely hear you.” Matt’s voice was tinny and charged with static.

  “Well done. I lost them.”

  “Great! Unfortunately, I don’t have tracking anymore. You’ll have to follow that logging road until it intersects with Old Forest Lane. The airport is just across from there. How’s your back?”

  “Not bad, considering. These new machines are surprisingly comfortable.”

  “They are?”

  “The last time I rode one of these, snowmobiles didn’t even have suspension.”

  “Exactly how old are you?”

  “Shut it.”

  Valkyrie crested a hill and the road disappeared. Her stomach tumbled as the world seemed to drop out from beneath her. The horizon opened up, and she saw the dark strip of a single runway. A tall chain link fence encircled the property. Near the entrance, she noted a security gate.

  Valkyrie eased back on her speed as she hit the pavement. The skis hit the asphalt with an explosion of sparks, and the machine’s track made a rapid slap-slap-slap as the metal crossbars dug into the asphalt. The scent of melting rubber and burning metal filled her nostrils.

  The long arm of the security gate at the entrance was locked in the lowered position. Val didn’t bother messing with the security panel. There was no time for stealth. She slowed enough to ease the snowmobile under the gate, and ducked down below the handlebars as she idled through. When she straightened, the knots in her back tightened, and she caught her breath.

  Not now, she thought with a moan.

  Still moving too fast to avoid it, Valkyrie jumped the curb onto the grassy lawn. She caught her breath and held it as the machine came down. To her surprise, it landed with a smooth gliding action that she hardly felt. Val settled her weight back on the cushioned seat, straightening her shoulders. For now, she was okay.

  Val heard the beep of her cell phone dropping Matt’s call. She couldn’t reach it to redial, but it didn’t matter. This was the place. It had to be. Up ahead, Val saw the hangar. It was a long, squat metal building standing in the shadow of the mountain. It rested on an asphalt parking lot that was illuminated by three tall lamp posts. The hangar doors and the small entry door were all closed, but she saw light in the windows.

  Val gunned the throttle. The snowmobile’s track threw a spray of soil into the air as it dug into the soft, damp earth. This terrain, if not snow, was almost as good. The machine lurched forward, and the landscape around her became a blur. The cold wind rushed in her ears and bit into her face.

  Valkyrie flew across the broad lawn and hit the taxiway in a spray of sparks. She locked up the
brakes, sliding sideways as she came to a stop before the hangar entrance. In a flash, Val was on her feet with her gun in one hand and her cane in the other. She took one step towards the door and froze as the muscles in her back knotted up. She took a slow deep breath, forcing back the pain. She closed her eyes, senses on high alert as she willed her muscles to relax. Just enough to walk… a few more steps…

  A breeze tousled her hair, sweeping away the lingering scent of burnt rubber, and filled her nostrils with the sweetness of lilac blossoms. Next to her, the snowmobile made a pinging sound as the hot metal began to cool. Val opened her eyes. She approached the door, willing her muscles to cooperate. She stood up against the frame, tested the handle, and found it unlocked. She pushed it open. Inside, Val caught a glimpse of a dark green ATV, a long worktable at the back of the room, and the wing of a red and white Cessna two-seater at the first hangar door.

  Dim light streamed down from a row of old fluorescent lights mounted on the ceiling. Their yellowed plastic covers blocked out most of the useful light, and the dull yellow glow they cast onto the concrete floor was little better than the light of a candle. Val released the safety on her officer-length Colt 1911, and stepped inside.

  The pool of light around the Cessna gave way to shadows and darkness beyond. Valkyrie caught flashes of color and light reflected in the glossy paint and polished aluminum fuselages. She counted four planes stretched across the hangar, wing tip to wing tip.

  Val moved forward, one cautious step at a time. She moved around the planes, ducking under their wings to peer into the darkened windows. One by one, she checked the cabins and found them empty. She came at last to the end of the building. Here, she found the largest plane in the collection, an old twin-engine Beechcraft. Judging by the looks of the thing, it was a museum piece, probably owned by a group of collectors and flown only to airshows. Val opened the tail hatch and found it empty.

  While looking inside, she heard a faint but unmistakable moan nearby. There, in the shadowy corner beyond the tail section, she saw the naked figure of a man tied to a chair. His head hung down, chin pressed into his chest. Bruises and cuts covered his body, and blood ran in rivulets down his torso. Val was sure she recognized the lean figure and graying hair. This was the man she had been seeking, the Collector’s latest victim: The Informant.