Dark Crypto (Thorne Inc. Book 1)

by Neil Mosspark

  She looked back at Grant and wondered how far he had fallen. The choices that he had to have made to make him this far gone. Stepping forward, she knew that the lights were from a military vehicle.

  He looked up at her again as she stood above him.

  “I hate you. You know that, right? You killed a lot of people I called friends. You deserve a bullet.” She cocked the hammer back with her thumb.

  “Just do it.” He rose to a kneeling position, turning his back to her. The fight was out of him.

  Olivia considered how easy it would be to finish it. Never having to look over her shoulder for Grant when he was released. If he ever was. She ejected the mag into her hand and racked the round onto the floor. He saw the round land next to him and looked up and back in time to see her bring her hand back. In one smooth motion, she swung hard and clubbed him as hard as she could on the jaw with the pistol. The man dropped to the floor with a thud.

  “I’m a good person, Grant. I’m not like you,” she muttered.

  She stood over him for a moment before bending down and pulling a set of plastic cuffs from his belt. It only took a moment to hog-tie the unconscious mercenary. Stepping away, she paused and then shuffled back to him, bending over his unconscious body.

  Tightening her fist, she drove him hard in the jaw, feeling teeth crack under her knuckles. Sweet pain welled up in her hand. “I guess I’m only mostly good.”

  The smell of ozone caught her nose as the tarp lifted from a breeze. White light streamed inside from the front of the building. For a brief moment she caught the blue of a United Nations vehicle.

  Shuffling quickly, she crossed the floor back toward Anita. Rounding the containers of equipment, she could see Anita sitting on the floor. With tear-filled eyes, she held up a small blue crystal. The box was disassembled and lying in a multitude of pieces at her feet. The patter of feet filled the room, and voices called out as they checked on the dead and dying from the street outside.

  “All that time,” Anita stated, “we thought it would be wonderful, but it's not.”

  The boots were coming closer.

  Olivia reached out and took the shard from her. “Is this it? This is what was in the box?”

  “Yes.” Tears streamed down her face.

  Placing it on the ground, Olivia ground it into the marble floor with the grip of her pistol. The blue crystal powdered into dust. She brushed it away with her fingers, removing any evidence of its existence.

  “Thank you,” Anita said. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Olivia, sobbing as the tension released. Olivia reached into her own back pocket and plucked out her wallet, folding it open with one hand. Anita clung to her as she raised it up over the crates. “Private investigator! Two friendlies over here!”

  Olivia tossed the pistol to the side and raised her hand, holding Anita’s sobbing body with the other.

  The clatter of boots stopped for a moment and advanced toward them, flashlights and muzzles pointed at them.

  “Hey, boys, you’re a bit late to the party, but better late than never, right?” She smiled at them, holding her hands high.

  Chapter 21

  Olivia sat in her office chair with her injured leg up on the desk as she read through the printouts of her bank statements. The bandages wrapped around calf under her jeans still ached from the fresh gunshot wound, and she expected that it would be a while before she returned to running any significant distance.

  “I think she was skimming money off the top.” Olivia stated, flipping through her papers.

  “Who?” Jack sat slumped on her couch, hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie.

  “Dana. My receptionist,” Olivia said.

  “I thought she quit?”

  “Ex-receptionist, then.”

  “How much did she take?” Jack asked.

  “Too much.” Olivia tossed the bank statements onto the desk. “I’m broke.”

  “You should hire someone trustworthy,” he chastised.

  “I thought I did.” She shrugged.

  “You hired her because she was a hot redhead that looked great in a dress. Let’s be serious.”

  “I’m going to miss her legs,” Olivia said sadly.

  “Spend a bit more money, hire a professional. Speaking of which, isn’t your client supposed to pay you? That’s how this works, right. You take a job, you get paid?”

  “Any minute now,” Olivia said. Her stomach rumbled. “I need to get something to eat after this. I’m starving.”

  In the foyer, the front door opened, and Olivia considered lowering her feet off the table, but the idea of moving her leg seemed foolish now that she was comfortable. Leather shoes padded across the wood floor of the foyer and toward her office.

  Mr. Grey slipped into view, and he stood for a moment looking at Jack and then back to Olivia. “I trust you have fulfilled your end of the contract.”

  “Oh, I’m fine, Mr. Grey. Thanks for asking. Yes, our most recent contract is complete. As promised. The polyptych thing was destroyed, and none of the items were taken from the weird orange room. I won't even ask what the hell that was.”

  “I trust that you didn’t come to any permanent harm.” He pointed to the leg.

  “Mr. Grey, I have been beaten, electrocuted, shot, stabbed, blown up, and set on fire ... I think it was fire, anyhow, or caustic gas or something. Either way, I spent the last week almost dying, but no, nothing a vacation couldn’t cure.”

  “That is pleasant to hear,” he stated, sinking into the seat. “Did you conclude your legal dealings with the incarceration of the scientist and his mercenary?”

  “Yeah, Dr. Gerrard and Grant are both in police custody on federal charges, including mass murder, kidnapping, and illegal entry into the Quarantine Zone. The last of which is mostly a slap on the wrist, but considering what went on in there, I suspect it should have some serious implications. I have to act as a witness in court, but thanks to your lawyer, I don’t think I will have to do much more than paying some fines ... which can be expensive.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  On cue, Mr. Grey’s thin fingers plucked an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, placing the thickness on the table. “I trust that there will be no record of our contractual undertaking?”

  “I promise you not a scrap. I hate paperwork.”

  “Thank you.” Mr. Grey rose from the chair. “Your efforts pleased my clients. They were ... impressed with how you handled yourself with limited resources and time. We always have use for such focused efforts.”

  “My door is always open.”

  Mr. Grey nodded and padded away. Jack waited until he had left and the front door closed. “He creeps me out.”

  “His money is good.” Olivia reached forward to snatch up the envelope. On opening it, she held the wad of cash inside up to her nose. The crisp bills brought a smile to her face.

  “So what are you going to do with all of that?”

  “Bills, groceries, rent, antibiotics... The foyer needs to be renovated because of the blood and bullet holes. I need to buy a few boxes of ammo, replace some ruined clothes, a lost ASP baton, and my favorite knife...” She licked her thumb and flicked a number of bills off the stack. “...but a few bucks go to my friend Jack for riding shotgun and keeping some bad guys off my ass.” Jack stood and smiled, snatching them up before returning to the couch.

  Olivia continued, “And not to forget my lawyer fees for helping me avoid incarceration for being in the Quarantine Zone. That guy Mr. Grey sent to pull me out was top-notch ... but damn expensive.”

  “So basically you're broke,” he said.

  “Nah, I have enough for rent, groceries and a bit of mad money ... which might go toward a massage. My back is all messed up from sleeping on your couch.”

  “The cops don’t need to be paid off?”

  “Not this time. Chuck’s a pretty straight and narrow dude. Gabe's a good influence.”

  The front door squeaked open again. “Hello?�
�� Chuck’s voice echoed through the empty foyer.

  “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Jack stated.

  “Back here,” Olivia yelled, tucking the envelope into her jacket.

  “You ready?” Chuck asked.

  “Where are you going?” Jack asked.

  Olivia slipped her foot off her desk, wincing. “I have to give a statement down at the precinct. He offered to give me a lift. Want to come?” She smiled at him.

  “Oh, no. Chuck grilled me for details after my connection to the drone cut out on me. That was a long night.”

  “For the both of us,” Chuck growled. “I had to babysit you while you sat in that chair. It was bizarre. Creepy. Not something I want to witness again. It was like hanging out with a dead body for hours.”

  Olivia nodded. “Yeah, I don’t get this whole plugging your head into things either. I’ll leave it to the super nerds.”

  “Well, the cerebral adaptor is going to make me rich. I’ve got things to get back to anyhow, so to answer your question: no I’m not going to come along. I’ve got better things to do. You guys have fun.”

  Olivia watched Jack stand to stuff the bills into his black jeans.

  “Thanks for the help again,” she said.

  Jack walked out the office door, waving his hand over his shoulder. “No problem. I’ll call you later this week. We can grab noodles.”

  Chuck reached out a hand to Olivia. “You never take me out for dinner. I thought we were friends.”

  “Don’t be jealous, handsome. I take all the boys there.” She pulled hard on his arm, lifting herself out of the chair. “Besides, your cop stomach is probably more suited to coffee and donuts than fugee noodles.”

  “I want to be offended, but you're probably right. I can’t stomach the stuff.”

  Olivia collected her jacket from the coat rack and slipped it on. Her hands felt for her keys and wallet as she limped toward the foyer.

  “This place looks like crap,” Chuck remarked.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m gonna get some renovations done as soon as I can find a cheap contractor. Know anyone?”

  “I might know a guy. Cash work only.”

  “Sounds like my kind of contractor.”

  Chuck stepped forward and held the front door open for her.

  “Speaking of your type, I just want to lay out some ground rules. I’m not Gabriel. I’m not going to do what we did before.”

  Olivia walked by him out the front door, pulling her keys out, jingling them. “What did we do before?” She eyed him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

  Chuck followed out the door and turned back to her as she locked up. “I’m serious, Olivia. I’m a cop. Trying to be a good cop. I have rules and laws I have to follow. I can’t get involved in anything that would taint that. You can’t ask me to protect a man piloting an illegal drone into the Quarantine Zone.”

  “Hey, I gave you guys all the chances in the world to go after Dr. Gerrard yourself.”

  “True. But I like my job. I’m a detective. It took me a long time to get here. I don’t want to lose that by getting mixed up in any dirty deals.”

  “Fine, as long as you bail me out of jail once in a while?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe delete some police records?”

  “I hope you’re kidding,” he said, pressing the elevator button.

  The doors opened, and Olivia hobbled inside, smiling at him. “Mostly. I’m mostly kidding.”

  “Gabriel was right. You're going to be a pain in my ass.”

  “He said that?” Olivia grinned wide and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Hey, do you mind if we make a stop at the bank?”

  The elevator doors slid closed.

  Epilogue

  Mr. Grey swung open a heavy metal door and stepped into the small, windowless concrete room before closing it gently behind him. The single bulb above him flickered for a moment, and he eyed it suspiciously before composing himself.

  A large, ornately carved oak cabinet stood against the wall. It was the only piece of furniture in the room. It was as tall as he was and twice as wide. The ornate carvings were well-worn by time, but caring hands had waxed and polished the wood, restoring its luster and finish.

  He stood calmly for a moment as though waiting for permission. After a few seconds, he raised his hands, grasped the handles of the oak doors of the cabinet, and took a deep breath. Pulling both doors open wide, he allowed himself to be bathed in the yellow, flickering glow of the tall cylinder kept safe inside.

  The swirling mass seemed to coalesce inside the chamber, forming into a tornado comprised of fire and sparks. Placing his hands on the wall of the tube, he bowed he his head slightly in concentration.

  “I have come to tell you that the task you assigned to me is now complete.” There was a brief pause, and he held his breath, listening.

  “Yes,” he said, “the crystal was destroyed.”

  There was a pause as he listened intently.

  “No, I have been assured that none of the contents escaped. They remain inside the void space. They were successful in opening it, but our asset was able to close it. Barring that anyone finds another crystal, it is unlikely they will ever open it again.”

  After a longer pause, Mr. Grey smiled warmly. “Yes, she will be a valuable resource. She has proven herself exceptionally resilient. I would be pleased to work with her again.”

  He cocked his head. “I am unsure about the other tasks you have given me. The assets I have used have not reported back as of yet. I will check on their progress.”

  He smiled again, pleased with what he heard. “Thank you. That is very kind of you to say.”

  Releasing his hand, Mr. Grey stepped back from the spinning fire and bowed shallowly. Reaching wide, he gently closed the oak doors. His hand affectionately ran over the surface of the wood.

  Turning on his heel, he stepped away, swinging open the metal door before closing it carefully behind him.

  Thanks for Reading

  Thanks again for taking the time to read my book. These are a labor of love, and I am glad to have shared it with you. If you liked it, please take a moment to leave a review.

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  THE BLACK

  Five years ago, when the anomaly arrived, it wiped out eight thousand square kilometers of Toronto, taking with it over seven million souls. It remains now as a looming, impervious black dome.

  Dave Thompson, a hard rock miner, was hired as the lead engineer on Tunnel 18. The job is simple: get the crews to dig fast, and dig deep, avoid the lethal energy discharges, and try not to die in a tunnel collapse.

  But now the energy releases are happening more and more frequently, the miners are refusing to dig, and the government is becoming desperate. Making things worse, there's something they're not telling him.

  If Dave can't get the scientists inside, there's little hope for humanity's survival. And time is running out.

  Get it now on Amazon!

  https://www.amazon.com/Black-Neil-Mosspark-ebook/dp/B073TNV8SW/