Table of Contents
Title
Legal
Dedication
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 — Dana Ridenour
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED—No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the authors, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Published by Deeds Publishing in Athens, GA
www.deedspublishing.com
Printed in The United States of America
Cover design and text layout by Mark Babcock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publications data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-944193-94-2
EISBN 978-1-944193-95-9
Books are available in quantity for promotional or premium use. For information, email [email protected].
First Edition, 2017
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To the memory of Captain Sandy Vermont,
who rescued me many times
The author with Captain Sandy Vermont, the real Captain Meade
PROLOGUE
Briars tore at her flesh as she stumbled through the thick South Carolina swamp brush, the harsh vegetation cutting into her exposed skin with every new step and movement. Sweat covered her body, stinging her eyes and open wounds, blurring her vision. Her breath came harsh and ragged, her lungs ready to explode.
Despite her weakened state, adrenaline and fear kept Lexie moving. She hoped she was moving in the right direction, having been unconscious when she was taken to the cabin.
Lexie ran through the Lowcountry swamp, trying to avoid the massive, low-lying cypress stumps and fallen, dead logs. Her visibility was no more than twenty feet because of the thick summer growth. A quick left turn put her on a dirt path.
Which way? Which way?
One way led to freedom and the other led back to her captor. Lexie chose a direction and pushed forward. The rutted path made running difficult but slowing down was not an option. Every muscle in Lexie’s body begged her to stop, but she ignored the pain. If she didn’t make it back to her boat, the truth would never be known.
The stinging sweat burned Lexie’s eyes and obscured her vision. She didn’t see the hole in the ground. She heard a pop in her right ankle as it twisted and felt the searing pain surge through her leg as she fell. She writhed in pain and briefly considered giving up, but she knew her captor would derive great pleasure from torturing her prior to killing her. Her heart pounded in her chest. She heard his footsteps quicken behind her, leaves and twigs crashing in his wake. A sudden overwhelming feeling of dread came over her. Despite the nearly unbearable pain, Lexie pulled herself up and staggered forward.
I’ve got to make it to the water. If I can get to the water, then I can find my boat.
Lexie heard three popping sounds behind her. The unmistakable sound of gunfire. Lexie felt an excruciating, white-hot burning sensation in the back of her left arm. She knew she’d been hit. She bolted back into the wooded area for better cover.
Her abductor followed her into the woods. She heard him cuss as he stumbled and fell, but he continued his pursuit, spraying several more rounds in Lexie’s direction. Lexie heard the rounds whizz by her as she ran. She knew she couldn’t slow down.
Not only did she have to survive the gunman chasing her, she also had to find her hidden boat. Lexie had long given up on receiving help from the FBI. No cavalry was coming to rescue her. She was on her own.
As she stumbled through the thick vegetation, a branch caught her on the side of the face, nearly knocking her to the ground. She paused momentarily when she heard the lapping noise of water caressing the shore and realized that she had made it to the water’s edge.
Where did I leave the boat? she thought. Fuck, this all looks the same. I can’t stay out here in the open for long. He’ll find me.
Lexie tried to wipe the sweat from her burning eyes, frantically looking for a familiar landmark. She looked left, then right. Blood poured from the wound on her arm, the pain causing her to stagger. She recognized an old dead cypress tree off in the distance. Her refuge, if the boat was still tied to the tree. She knew she didn’t have a minute to spare.
She picked the most direct route to the cypress tree. As she plodded through the marsh, she stopped to get her bearings. She felt a pull on her feet and legs, a strange sucking feeling—she began to sink.
What the fuck? What is happening? Oh no. Please no. This can’t be happening.
The harder Lexie struggled against the thick, sludgy pluff mud, the deeper she sank. Weak, bleeding, and up to her knees in unyielding pluff mud, she felt a large hand brutishly grab her shoulder.
I guess this is how it ends.
1
MAY 2013 — QUANTICO, VIRGINIA
Special Agent Alexis Montgomery stood in the corner, lost in thought. Lexie, as she preferred to be called, had returned to the famed FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia, to share her knowledge with future FBI undercover candidates. How could she possibly describe the magnitude of working a deep undercover mission in a thirty-minute presentation?
Lexie tugged at her navy-blue suit. She never had liked dressing up, but since she looked younger than her thirty-two years, she wanted to garner the respect of her audience. Her silky blond hair cascaded over one shoulder, highlighting her sapphire blue eyes. She clasped her shaking hands and took a deep breath.
I should have made some notes, Lexie thought. Why did I think I could just wing it?
“Lexie. Lexie, you’re up,” said a female voice, shaking Lexie from her daydream state.
“They’re ready for you,” the woman said.
“Oh. Sorry, I guess my mind was somewhere else.”
The woman smiled. “Thank you for coming back to the school to speak. It’s agents like you who have hard-earned street knowledge that are the most helpful to the new undercover agents.”
“Anytime.”
Lexie stepped in front of the small class of twenty-five students. Only the third day of undercover school and the group already looked exhausted. She had been told three students had already washed out of the program and she knew more would be sent back to their field divisions before the school ended.
“This looks like a well-rested group,” Lexie said sarcastically.
The class laughed. FBI undercover school was a grueling two-week program where the students slept an average of two hours a night. Sleep deprivation was a tactic employed by the school organizers to make the intense role play scenarios seem more realistic and to add stress to an already stressful situation. Candidates spent their nights participating in practical exercises at Hogan’s Alley. Situated on the FBI Academy grounds, the makeshift town of Hog
an’s Alley resembled a Hollywood movie set. During New Agents Training, prospective FBI agents learned to conduct entries and tactically clear buildings using the structures at Hogan’s Alley. The town consisted of a trailer park, a pool hall, a movie theater, a pharmacy, a hotel, and of course, a bank. The FBI traditionally investigated bank robberies, and all new agent training involved at least one bank robbery scenario. The joke at the academy was that the Bank of Hogan’s Alley was the most robbed bank in the country. Hogan’s Alley was the perfect setting for undercover school, because the agents and role players could be as loud and rough as they needed to be for training purposes.
Ugh, I’m glad I’m here lecturing and not as a student, Lexie thought.
“How many times have you heard in this school that undercover agents build relationships to betray relationships?” Lexie asked.
Some of the students nodded, others murmured remarks.
“How many of you in this room think betraying a subject won’t bother you in the least?”
Every hand in the room sprung up.
Lexie smirked. “That’s what I thought, too. I didn’t understand the magnitude of those words until two years ago when I had to look a young girl whom I had befriended in the eyes and tell her that I was not her best friend, but I was actually an FBI agent using her to infiltrate her inner circle of friends. What I’m telling you today isn’t going to have much of an influence on you this week, but one day you will understand the psychological impact these words carry. With each undercover assignment you work, you will lose a small part of yourself.”
Lexie looked at the exhausted, spaced out students and repeated the words, “Undercover agents build relationships to betray relationships. Betrayal is an ugly word, no matter how you slice it.”
A bleary-eyed student in the front row raised his hand.
“Yes?” Lexie said.
“If the subjects are worthy of the FBI’s attention, then why should we feel guilty for betraying them?” he asked.
“I’m not saying you should feel guilty for betraying them. In fact, you probably won’t feel even the slightest twinge of guilt with most of your targets. However, if you’re a good undercover agent, and you’re able to make that genuine connection with another human being, then you need to be prepared for the aftermath of betraying that relationship.”
Lexie finished her speech with relatively few questions. She knew the candidates were too exhausted, even this early in the class, for much of what they heard to sink in. She told the class that she would be around all week, and if anyone wanted to talk to her one on one, she would be happy to share her experiences. The class gave her a round of applause and she exited the room as the next speaker entered. Lexie was halfway down the hallway when she heard a familiar voice shout her name. She turned to find Supervisory Special Agent Adam Harper smiling at her. Adam had been the case agent on her first long term undercover investigation. He had received a promotion to headquarters at the successful conclusion of the case, which was based mostly on Lexie’s hard work, despite all the road blocks Adam had thrown up along the way.
He rushed to catch up to Lexie.
Adam moved to hug Lexie, but she extended her right hand. “Hello, Adam,” Lexie said as she shook Adam’s hand. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I heard you were speaking at the school, so I had to come see you. Are you still in New Orleans?”
“I am. What about you? Are you still in the Domestic Terrorism Unit?”
“I jumped ship three weeks ago when a spot in the Undercover and Sensitive Operations Unit came open.”
How fitting, Lexie thought. Promote a guy to an undercover supervisory position when he’d never spent a day undercover in his life.
“So, you’re at USOU. Do you like it?” Lexie asked.
“It’s good so far. In fact, there’s a case I want to run by you. Do you have a minute?”
“For you, Adam, I have at least two.”
Adam laughed. “Well, let’s walk over to the Boardroom and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“A drink worthy conversation. This should be good.”
The Boardroom was a small bar and grill at the FBI Academy where students gathered after hours to share stories and pitchers of cheap beer. During the day, it served a variety of snacks and sodas.
“I have a case that’s right up your alley,” Adam said.
“I’m intrigued.”
Adam and Lexie had parted ways not on the best of terms. Lexie didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Adam, but she was willing to listen to his pitch. They walked to the Boardroom, making polite chit-chat. Adam opened the door for Lexie. The Boardroom was nearly empty, so they grabbed a corner table.
“What’s your pleasure?” Adam asked.
“I’ll take a Diet Coke.”
While Lexie waited for Adam to return, her mind drifted back to the time she was an undercover candidate. It was near the end of the two-week school, so Lexie and the other candidates all suffered from severe sleep deprivation. As luck would have it, Parker Lawson, Lexie’s best friend from her New Agent Class, was also enrolled in the undercover school.
One evening, as had become their custom, Parker waited for Lexie outside her room so they could walk over to Hogan’s Alley together. “What do you think they will throw at us tonight?” he asked.
“I have no idea. I’m so tired.”
“Hang in there, Lexie. We’re on the home stretch. Tonight is your night to shine, girl.”
“I hope so. I don’t want to screw up at this stage.”
“You won’t. You’re doing great.”
They met up with their remaining teammates and headed to Hogan’s Alley Pool Hall.
Their instructor, Bob Peterson, was leaning against the wall with the details of the scenario in his hand. He gave them a rundown of the characters.
“Lexie, you’re the primary undercover for the first scenario this evening. As the primary undercover agent, you’ll meet with a female who has called the FBI to report that her boyfriend is involved in illegal drug activities. She’s willing to do an introduction for you. I’ll introduce you to her, and you two will have fifteen minutes to get your story straight before you meet him. Any questions of me?”
“Tons,” Lexie responded. “First, what is the confidential source’s name, and what is her motivation? Did she and her boyfriend have a fight? Does he beat her? Why is she willing to turn him in to the FBI?”
Glancing at his notes, Bob answered. “Her name is Crystal Smith. We are unsure of her motivation. We know that their relationship has been volatile. Her boyfriend has been seen around town with a dancer from the strip bar. What else?”
“What kind of illegal activities? What’s her boyfriend’s name? Does he have a criminal history?”
“It’s nice to see that you’re asking all the right questions, Lexie. Her boyfriend’s name is Dirty Dave Daniels, and he buys, sells, and transports large quantities of cocaine. He’s been arrested two times and has one felony conviction for drug trafficking. He’s on probation. Dirty Dave is looking for a person who can move large quantities of cocaine in the Hogan’s Alley area of Virginia. Time to go meet Crystal.”
“Just for the record, in the real world, I would never do this,” Lexie advised.
Bob stopped walking and turned to Lexie. “Let’s just pretend that you had a choice. What would your reasoning be for not doing this undercover role?”
Lexie zipped up her hoodie. “I have a bad feeling about this informant. A scorned woman makes me nervous. What happens if she changes her mind?”
“I like that you’re thinking things through, Lexie. In the real world, we would have more time to screen the informant; however, for tonight, you have the next fifteen minutes. The rest of your team will be responsible for backup and surveillance.”
“Can I take one of my team members with me for the meeting?”
“Sure.”
“Parker, can you come?”
“Of course.”<
br />
Lexie, Parker, and Bob walked over to the Hogan’s Alley Motel to meet with Crystal. Bob knocked on the door, and a grungy white female opened it.
“Hello, Crystal,” Bob said.
“Hi, Bob. Come in.”
The trio entered a dark and dingy motel room that reeked of cigarette smoke.
“Crystal, this is Lexie, the agent I told you about.”
Crystal extended her hand to Lexie. “Hi.”
“Nice to meet you, Crystal,” Lexie said as she shook hands with Crystal. “This is my partner, Parker.”
“Hi, Crystal,” Parker said.
Crystal nodded and shook Parker’s hand.
Lexie took the lead, since she and Crystal had to come up with a story. “First of all, I would like to thank you for your assistance. We appreciate your cooperation.”
“Ain’t no sacrifice for me. That lying, cheating, son of a bitch is a piece of shit, and I hope you put him in jail for the rest of his life.”
The hair on the back of Lexie’s neck stood up. “Crystal, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Lexie asked.
“Naw, go ahead.”
“Why are you cooperating with the FBI? What made you decide to turn in Dave?”
“I got tired of the cheating bastard. He makes all kinds of money but never takes me nowhere. He runs around with that young girl who works at the strip bar, the one with the big boobs, and then comes home wasted and beats on me. I’m tired of his shit, and I’m ready to make a clean start.”
“That’s fair enough. Now, you and I need to come up with a story about how we know each other. Where do you work? Could we have met through your work?”
“I work at the dry cleaners just down the road.”
Lexie was struggling to find a reason why she and Crystal would know each other.
“I also work at a used bookstore on the weekends.”
“Perfect,” Lexie said. “Tell me exactly where it is and what it looks like on the inside. We can tell Dave that you and I met in the bookstore.”
“It’s on the corner of Market Street and Elm. It’s kind of a dump, but there’s a big area in the back with sofas. Book club people meet back there on the weekends. How about if I tell Dave that you’re my cousin?” Crystal asked.
Beyond the Cabin Page 1