by Warren Ray
Innocent Shadows
The Shadow Patriots Book 5
Warren Ray
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 by Warren Ray
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Chapter 1
Jackson Michigan
The cafeteria was empty when Scott “Scar” Scarborough came in for a cup of coffee. He found the machine shut off and the decanter empty, so he went about making a fresh pot with the last remaining packet of coffee. He was surprised to find no one there as it was late-morning but figured everyone was still recovering from last night in Grosse Pointe.
Scar sat down and stared at the coffee maker as it started to boil the water. His mind was occupied with last night’s operation, which he could only categorize as one of the strangest he’d ever been involved with since they started the Shadow Patriots. They successfully entered Mordulfah’s domain and rescued three people, but lost Cara because a woman she thought was her friend stabbed her with a knife. Scar let out a scoff as he got up and grabbed the half-full decanter. What the kind of person would do this? That poor girl. They must have lied to her from the get-go.
He sat back down and blew on the hot coffee before taking a sip. His thoughts shifted to Winters and what he must be going through. To watch your daughter die in front of you after you had risked your life to rescue her was beyond comprehension. How does one even try to get over something like that? Especially, after not seeing her for a year and to be so close to having her back, then poof, she’s gone.
Scar shook his head not wanting to dwell on the unthinkable. The image of his own son, Scott, flashed before his eyes. He flew EA-6B Prowlers in the war out west. The military used these aircraft to pinpoint and neutralize the enemy’s fire control radar. It wasn’t too far from the realm of possibility that he could be killed at any time, but to successfully rescue your child and then have her die in your arms would be soul crushing. To be right there and then have it taken away was too much for any man. He didn’t blame Cole for leaving. The man always carried the heavy burden for the group and it had been a hell of a week here in Jackson. From fighting the enemy and evacuating the citizens, to personally taking responsibility for the attack on the hospital, and then having his daughter killed. Was it any wonder he cracked and left the group?
Scar let out a heavy sigh because the burden of command would now fall on his shoulders until Winters came back if he came back. It was always a tacit thing that he was next in line. It was just something that happened whenever Winters was out of the picture, the men turned to him. While he never shied away from the responsibility, he never enjoyed it even though he was accustomed to giving orders. He had owned his own construction business and at one time had over fifty people on the payroll. However, having people’s lives in your hands was quite a different thing. If he made a mistake in his business, it usually just cost him money. In this current business, mistakes cost lives. He took another sip and remembered his Marine Corps training. That training turned him into the man he was today. Thinking about it gave him a confidence boost and figured it would kick in when he needed it. Besides, this group was comprised of some tough and highly qualified fighters.
Scar looked up when he heard the door open. He raised his cup when Corporal Joshua Bassett walked in. Here was one of their most qualified fighters. His youthful energy, military training, and combat experience gave him an edge over the older members. Officially, he was still in the Army and had fought in the Middle East. This experience alone put him far above the rest with the exception of Nordell. His thirty years in the Corps was going to be invaluable to them in the future.
Bassett grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down. “Hell of a night.”
“Yes, it was.”
“You been up to see Elliott?”
“Just left him. Amber is hovering over him.”
Bassett gave him a sly grin. “He’ll like that.”
“He deserves it.”
“What about those twin girls? Did you hear their story?” asked Bassett.
Scar gave him a quizzical look and shook his head.
“That cop, Captain Vatter, is their cousin and was the one who gave them to Mordulfah.”
Scar’s jaw literally dropped.
“I know, right? It’s pretty messed up. After we got back, one of the nurses scooped the girls up and took them away.”
“Dammed despicable pig,” said Scar.
Bassett took a sip of coffee and stared into the cup. “So, what are we going to do?”
Scar was waiting for it and now it had begun. Bassett was looking for orders. He was an Army man through and through. While he was quite capable of making his own decisions, his training told him to get directions first. Scar didn’t expect Bassett to mention Winters’ absence. For him, it just was, and now you moved forward.
“We’ll continue moving the citizens out. Why don’t you get with Nordell and make arrangements for a group tonight?”
“Sounds good, although I have a feeling he’s going to be tied up for a little while.”
“Oh?” asked Scar.
“He’ll have Posey on the brain today.”
With everything that had gone on, Scar had forgotten about the spy they captured last night. “Oh, yeah, forgot all about him.”
“I can assure you, Gunny hasn’t.”
“I hope he doesn’t make too big a spectacle of it.”
“Don’t count on it. I have a feeling we’re talking about a big gathering. Think western movie style hanging.”
Scar rolled his eyes. While he wanted Posey to pay for his crimes, he had bigger things on his mind than some grand execution. He wanted the group to continue as if nothing had changed. He figured the best way to do this would be an evacuation mission. Giving the men some purpose was the best way to keep their head in the game. There would be a lot of gossip today, which typically evolved into negative tones. Usually, there’s a person or two that will think the worst and try to pull the group down to their level. He had dealt with it in the past and knew the havoc it could reap. It was the last thing he needed to have happen now.
Chapter 2
Washington D.C.
Staring into the salt-water tank in his office, Lawrence Reed watched the exotic fish swim back and forth with no particular place to go in their contained world. The big fish were kings of this world and weren’t bothered by the smaller ones, all of whom gave way to them. There was a certain pecking order and everyone knew their place making it appear that everyone got along. Reed let out a scoff thinking how D.C. was relatively the same. The district was a big fish bowl with a few big fish in charge, with some medium ones striving to become big fish, and many little ones just going about their business in their own little fiefdoms. There was a certain order of things and it appeared to work. However, underneath the niceties, there was a constant struggle for wannabe big fish trying to reach the status of a truly big fish. Once in a blue moon, they legitimately earned a place among the big ones, but mostly they simply spent their time trying to manipulate other fish and events.
Reed got out of his chair, grabbed a container of food, and sprinkled the flakes across the top of the water. Most of the fish bolted to the surface and fought for their share while others patiently waited for it to drop to the bottom, taking what they needed without the hassle of fighting for it while staying unseen. These bottom feeders reminded Reed of those who liked to stay in the shadows here in the district taking what they wanted without anyone n
oticing them. These were the fish to watch out for because you never knew when or how they would strike. They were difficult to ferret out because sometimes they would use other people to do their dirty work or they worked in concert with other bottom feeders.
Reed plopped back in his chair knowing he had several bottom feeders working together. He rocked back and forth thinking about the chain of events over the last couple of weeks. The person who took out Pruitt must have gotten ahold of his laptop. There was no other way to explain the surfacing of the recording of Perozzi talking with Chinese officials. Reed cursed himself for thinking he had the only recording. He should have known Pruitt would keep a copy for himself. He should never have sent him to record that meeting in the first place. Reed shook his head thinking about his paranoia and how it was catching up to him. Perozzi was pretty pissed off listening to his voice on the recording. Of course, Perozzi knew about his paranoia, so there was no denying who ordered the recording. Besides, he was the only other one aware of the meeting.
Reed reached behind his chair, grabbed a crystal decanter and poured a scotch. He ignored the early hour of the day and took a large gulp of the burning liquid. It went down as it always did, burning his throat and clearing out his nostrils. He slammed the glass down thinking about what to do about Perozzi. He had pushed too far and needed answers before Perozzi decided he did not want him around anymore.
“Who the hell were these bottom feeders?”
He grabbed a pencil and paper and wrote down Pruitt and recordings. He then wrote down Patrick O’Connor who recorded their conversations of the bombings. Trying to control his anger at O’Connor, he pressed down hard on the pencil and the tip broke. He grabbed another pencil and wrote down Allison O’Connor, wishing again he’d killed that alcoholic bitch. He wrote next to their names, recording and rescue.
He leaned back in his chair thinking about her rescue and how whoever did it was able to kill two experienced men. Were they professionals? That possibility bothered him. He turned back to the fish tank and stared into it. As he watched a small fish swimming next to a big fish he realized what it was that bothered him. The shooter was a professional, but why did they need to rescue her? She shouldn’t have been anywhere near the district when they dropped off the recording at his house. They should have known in advance that he’d figure out where it came from. This had inexperience written all over it. He then realized he was dealing with bottom feeders all right but a bigger fish was involved as well, maybe even more than one.
He wrote down work truck with fake license plates and knew without question, this was the work of bureaucratic bottom feeders. This was not an easy task to perform, but could have been done by any number of people. He would have to send someone who would tear the place down, if needed, to get the information.
He looked at the list and figured there had to be at least five people in this cabal, possibly more. He tapped the list with the pencil eraser thinking about last night’s interaction with Perozzi. It wasn’t pleasant and a bit embarrassing having Perozzi know he was responsible for one of those recordings. It was interesting that this cabal sent him and Perozzi different recordings. These bottom feeders were clever to be sure and more than likely they were even now working on their next move.
He poured himself another drink making it a double. He started moving the glass to his lips but stopped when it reminded him of the double-shot he took last night. A new waitress called Stormy served it to him. You could not forget a name like that especially on someone as beautiful as she was. She was too pretty to be working at a restaurant and she had an air of confidence that was different from the rest of the girls there. No doubt she had modeling experience the way she walked and carried herself. Her smart-ass answer to his question bothered him the most. No one there dared talk to him like that. Why was she there and why now? That restaurant didn’t have a lot of turn-over with the staff, so it was unusual to have a new girl there. The timing seemed too much of a coincidence while these bottom feeders were coming after him. He took the pencil, wrote down her name, and then wrote background check. He leaned back in his chair and after a few moments came up with a person whom he could assign to investigate. He picked up the phone and called him.
Chapter 3
The sun shone through the window of Major Green’s office in the Lafayette building. He sat in his chair and stared at the people in the park across the street. Their lives were far different from the rest of America. They didn’t have the food or electricity shortages that everywhere else had to worry about. They also didn’t have to worry about being killed by an enemy, either foreign or domestic. It was easy to ignore the hardships the rest of the country endured. Speaking of domestic enemies, the Shadow Patriots had gone on a mission to rescue Winters’ daughter last night. Mordulfah was using her as bait, and since Green hadn’t heard anything on the outcome yet, he didn’t think the prince had been successful. Had they succeeded, the phones would have been buzzing.
Green shifted his mind to the meeting he had last night with Gibbs. He had gone at Gibbs’ request not knowing his son’s friend, Stormy, had spied for them. She took it upon herself to get a job at the Four Seasons, which was Perozzi and Reed’s favorite watering hole. Last night, her first night there, she had waited on them and learned some valuable information. At first, the news of her escapades had angered him until he met her. Besides being beautiful, she seemed to be quite observant. So much so, she had even noticed Reed’s tics when he lied. She was proficient in martial arts, so she was capable of handling herself and was downright gutsy to volunteer to do spy work. Since she was from Brainerd, Minnesota, and Perozzi was responsible for the damage there, she was also motivated. What Green did not know, was how far she would be willing to go to get close to Perozzi.
He reached over to his desk for his water bottle and took a sip. He then thought about Reed and the way he had lost control of his temper with Perozzi. Sending them each different recordings had certainly induced the effect he wanted. Now it was time to step it up a notch and start planning a fake assassination attempt on Reed. He would have to figure out a way to do this and make it look like it was Perozzi’s handiwork. This would be just what was needed to drive Reed over the edge. He would instinctively respond and start working against Perozzi. They would then have to use all their resources to fight each other, which would expose their weaknesses. This would be better than just killing them outright because all the other players would still be out there jostling for power. Their elimination would be as if nothing happened. Green had to be patient and play the long game to get them all out in the open.
He took another gulp of water, which finished off the bottle. He got up and decided to get in touch with Kyle Gibbs. He needed more information on Perozzi and since Kyle had been monitoring him, he was just the person he would call. He left the office and headed to the Duxbury Coffee shop to get a latte and use the pay phone. The place never used to have a payphone, but with the collapse of the country, they were back in vogue. Most people didn’t have cell phones anymore because the government was the only provider and the service was lousy, overpriced and monitored.
He entered the shop and ordered a latte before heading to the back to use the phone. He pulled out a slip of paper with a number written on it and dropped four quarters into the slot.
The phone rang a few times before Kyle answered.
“Hello.”
“Kyle, it’s John.”
“Hey.”
“You think we could get together anytime soon?”
“Yeah, sure. Why don’t you meet me on the south side of the Reflecting Pool? I can be there in an hour.”
Green grabbed his drink and headed out the door to the Reflecting Pool, on which the Lincoln Memorial stood at the south end. It was just a couple of miles away and he could use the walk. Besides, it was a great way to make sure he wasn’t still being tailed. Even though Reed no longer suspected him of being a spy, he still wanted to be sure. He had learned a
valuable lesson when Pruitt had been following him. It was unexpected and the results were devastating. Never again would he allow that to happen.
He took his time and enjoyed the cloudy summer day while sipping on his latte. He was glad he had thought to bring his nylon jacket as there was a slight breeze coming from the Potomac River, which made it cooler than normal for this time of year. He made several stops and diverted his direction several times until he was convinced he wasn’t being followed.
Walking on Seventeenth Street he passed by the Washington Monument, the tallest structure in the district. He made a right onto the walkway and spied Kyle Gibbs up ahead standing with someone who was as tall as he was. It was Stormy, the former runway model. Her raven black hair stood out against the bright yellow running shirt she wore over black spandex jogging shorts. Green’s heart skipped a beat as he realized she was joining them. He had become infatuated with her the moment they met and wanted to get to know her better.
“Major Green,” said Kyle, extending his hand.
“Kyle,” said Green, giving a firm shake. He then turned toward Stormy and shook her hand. “Stormy.”
“Major.”
“Please, call me John, both of you.”
“Alright,” said Stormy as she let go of his hand.
“Let’s grab this park bench,” said Green.
They walked over and sat down with Stormy in the middle.
“Thanks for meeting me on short notice.”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could help me with some information on Perozzi. Your dad told me you’ve been tailing him for the past couple of weeks.”
Kyle nodded. “What do ya need?”
Green told them what he had in mind about pinning Reed’s fake assassination attempt on Perozzi. “So, anything that might help convince Reed it was him would be valuable.”