THE HUNTED
Copyright © 2001, 2011 by Alan Jacobson
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
NOVELS BY ALAN JACOBSON
Alan Jacobson has established a reputation as one of the most insightful suspense and thriller writers of our time. His exhaustive research, coupled with years of unprecedented access to law enforcement agencies, including the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit, bring realism and unique characters to his pages. Following are his current, and coming, releases. (Release dates are subject to change.)
False Accusations
(eBook release coming Spring/Summer 2011)
Dr. Phillip Madison has everything: wealth, power, and an impeccable reputation. But in the pre-dawn hours of a quiet California suburb, the revered orthopedic surgeon is charged with double homicide—a cold blooded hit-and-run that has left an innocent young couple dead. Blood evidence has brought the police to his door. An eyewitness has placed him at the crime scene...and Madison has no alibi. With his family torn apart, his career forever damaged, no way to prove his innocence and facing life in prison, Madison hires an investigator to find the person who has engineered the case against him. False Accusations is a psychological thriller that instantly became a National Bestseller and launched Alan Jacobson’s career, a novel that spurred CNN to call him, “One of the brightest stars in the publishing industry.”
The Hunted
How well do you know the one you love? Lauren Chambers’ husband Michael disappears while on a ski trip—but as she searches for him, she discovers Michael’s hidden past involving the FBI, international assassins—and government secrets that some will go to great lengths to keep hidden. As The Hunted hurtles toward a conclusion mined with turn-on-a-dime twists, no one is who he appears to be and nothing is as it seems. The Hunted introduces the dynamic Department of Defense covert operative Hector DeSantos and FBI Director Douglas Knox, characters who return in Velocity, Hard Target, and future Alan Jacobson novels.
The 7th Victim
What reader wouldn’t like a character who is tough, smart, funny, very believable, and compelling? That’s how literary giants Nelson DeMille and James Patterson describe Karen Vail, the first female FBI profiler. Vail, with a dry sense of humor and a closet full of skeletons, heads up a task force to find the Dead Eyes Killer, who is murdering young women in the Virginia and Washington, D.C. region: the backyard of the famed FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit. Named one of the Top 5 Best Books of the Year (Library Journal), The 7th Victim is a psychological suspense thriller that packs a powerful ending no reader will see coming.
Crush
FBI Profiler Karen Vail travels to the Napa Valley for a vacation—but the Crush Killer has other plans. Vail and Inspector Roxxann Dixon lead a task force to find the architect of death who leaves his victims in exclusive wine caves and vineyards. Crush is not only a twisting and compelling read, but it brings the wine country to life in a story that Publishers Weekly describes as “addicting” and New York Times bestselling author Steve Martini says is “Crisply written and meticulously researched,” and which “rocks from the opening page to the jarring conclusion.”
Velocity
A missing detective. A bold serial killer. And evidence that makes FBI Profiler Karen Vail question the loyalty of those she has entrusted her life to. Squaring off against foes more dangerous than any she has yet encountered, shocking personal and professional truths emerge—truths that may just be more than Vail can handle. Velocity was named to The Strand magazine’s Top 10 Best Books for 2010, Suspense Magazine’s Top 4 Best Thrillers of 2010, Library Journal’s Top 5 Best Books of the Year, and the Los Angeles Times’ top picks of the year. Michael Connelly said Velocity is “As relentless as a bullet. Karen Vail is my kind of hero and Alan Jacobson is my kind of writer!” (Since Crush and Velocity form essentially one large story, it’s advisable to read Crush before reading Velocity.)
Inmate 1577
(Coming Spring 2011)
When an elderly woman is found raped and brutally murdered, Karen Vail heads west to team up with Inspector Lance Burden and Detective Roxxann Dixon. As they follow the killer’s trail in and around San Francisco, the offender leaves behind clues that ultimately lead them to the most unlikely of places, a mysterious island ripped from city lore whose long-buried, decades-old secrets hold the key to their case: Alcatraz. The Rock. It’s a case that has more twists and turns than the famed Lombard Street. The legendary Clive Cussler called Inmate 1577 “a powerful thriller, brilliantly conceived and written.”
Hard Target
(Coming soon; release date to be announced)
An explosion pulverizes the president-elect's helicopter on Election Night. It soon becomes clear that the group behind the assassination possesses far greater reach than anything the FBI has yet encountered—and a plot so deeply interwoven in the country’s fabric that it threatens to upend America's political system. But as covert operative Hector DeSantos and FBI Agent Dan “Uzi” Uziel sort out who is behind the bombings, Uzi’s personal demons not only jeopardize the investigation but may sit at the heart of a tangle of lies that threaten to trigger an international terrorist attack. Hailed by political thriller master Vince Flynn as “a smart, complex novel that explodes from the page," and by Lee Child as “a great thriller” that’s “fast, hard, and intelligent,” Hard Target is a ticking time bomb that makes you think while keeping you clinging to the edge of your seat.
For a peek at recently released and new, soon-to-be released Alan Jacobson novels, go to alanjacobson.com.
For Jill,
whose natural wisdom guides me,
whose tenderness touches me,
whose heart warms me...
I have no secrets from you
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | 76 | 77 | 78 | 79 | 80 | 81
Sneak Peek: The 7th Victim
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
“There are many truths, some valid for one, some for another. Things are not what they seem... It is a lesson we must learn and relearn because we keep searching for certainty, and certainty does not exist.
—Harrison Salisbury
PROLOGUE
August
The United States Attorney stood on the courthouse steps, the hot August air oppressively still and heavy with humidity. Reporters were gathered around him, microphones and digita
l recorders shoved toward his drawn face.
“I only have a brief statement for you. At twelve-thirty this afternoon, Judge Richard Noonan held a hearing on newly discovered evidence in the Anthony Scarponi murder conviction of six years ago. The defense has secured what Judge Noonan has determined to be a credible witness who can provide evidence of Mr. Scarponi’s innocence. Collaterally, the Department of Justice has failed to locate former FBI agent Harper Payne, who was the central witness for the government in the original trial. As a result, Judge Noonan has ordered the release of Mr. Scarponi on two million dollars bail pending the scheduling of a new trial.”
A flurry of questions burst forth from the press corps. Instead of answering them, the U.S. Attorney turned and walked back up the courthouse steps. A screaming headache was beginning to take shape, and the last thing he needed was two dozen journalists asking the one question he had been asking himself repeatedly the past several days: How could this have happened?
September
The apartment was a sparsely decorated studio on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., secured by contacts he had maintained while incarcerated in the maximum security prison in Petersburg, Virginia. He had hoped the day would come when he would be out on his own again, free to roam the streets like a jaguar prowling for its next quarry.
Anthony Scarponi knew that to have true freedom, the tiny tracking device implanted in his buttock had to be removed. Some foreign physicians would perform such a procedure without asking questions, but finding one in the United States would be time-consuming and dangerous.
There was only one possible course of action.
He stood with his right leg up on the edge of the bathtub, a large magnifying makeup mirror perched on a step stool beneath his buttock. A high-intensity halogen light lay on the floor, flooding his skin with enough brightness that if he looked away, he would have a temporary blind spot. His paraphernalia was laid out across the bathroom counter, within reach of his left hand: syringes filled with lidocaine hydrochloride solution, sterilized stainless steel probes, a scalpel, forceps, clamps, gauze rolls, pads, and suture kits.
After injecting the surrounding area with anesthetic, he began by opening a long slit overlying the tiny, delicate scar line left by the surgeon’s original incision. It was tedious work at first, as he had to locate the exact position of the microchip they had implanted. That it was buried toward the rear of his buttock made the probing more difficult. Though he was not supposed to know this had been done to him, he had sources. Even inside a maximum security federal prison, he had sources.
According to his informants, a couple of guards had taken him from his cell on a Monday—and didn’t return him until the following Sunday. Scarponi surmised he had been drugged, then kept sedated until he could heal. It took a few months, but he eventually learned what they had done to him.
An hour later, the lidocaine syringes lay empty, the last one having been injected forty minutes ago. He was now working on sheer determination, grit, and guts, using the skills of discipline his Chinese mentors had taught him. After much tedious probing and searching, he finally found the tiny device. Carefully, he extracted the foreign body, which was a quarter the size of a penny, and placed it gently into a Pyrex dish filled with saline solution.
Ten minutes later, he tied off the last suture, packed away all evidence of his crude surgery, then chased down an ampicillin capsule and a Vicodin tablet with a glass of water. Scalpel in hand, he walked over to the rat that was lying still in its cage. It was fast asleep, the drugs he’d given it two hours ago having done their job in marked contrast to the largely ineffective lidocaine he had used on himself.
He suddenly realized that he should have chosen a guinea pig instead of a rat. Then it would have mirrored his own situation so closely the feds couldn’t help but see the irony in what he’d done. In the end, though, it didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t be around to feel their shock, taste their hatred.
He removed the rodent from its tiny prison, made his incision, and did his deed. He stepped back and laughed a shrill howl, marveling at his masterpiece, intrigued by what the feds would think of his latest feat.
1
January
“I’ve got her tied down to the chair. I slap her. She likes it, she smiles at me. She wants more.”
Dr. Lauren Chambers swallowed hard, then leaned forward in her seat. “Who is this, Steven, who’s tied down?”
“Gina. My girlfriend. The others are unconscious.”
Lauren bit her bottom lip. This was one of the most extraordinary first sessions she had ever experienced with a patient. Steven Simpson, a forty-year-old state worker, had come to her because he had lost his ability to fight off his sexual urges. But they weren’t just sexual fantasies, her patient was quick to point out. “They’re torture fantasies,” he had said. “There’s a huge difference. Haven’t you been listening to me?”
Normally, Lauren had no difficulty focusing on her patient. She was a professional, and when she walked into the office, she left her problems at the door. But today was different. She forced herself to look at this person, really see this man, who wore oversize, rose-tinted glasses and a bright blue polyester shirt opened at the collar. She decided that if a dictionary publisher were searching for a defining image of the word geek, Steven would qualify. His hair was frizzy and wild, parted and combed across his head in an apparent attempt to tame it. But the effort had failed miserably, and he looked more like a mad professor than the moderately paid state worker drone that he professed to be.
Judging by what he had just told her, she had to agree with him. These torture fantasies were not merely a benign form of sexually oriented daydreaming.
Though in a hypnotic state, Steven smiled. “She wants more.”
“Steven,” Lauren said, “you mentioned others. How many women are there?”
“There are four. They’re all strapped into chairs. I’m more intrigued by the last one, the blonde.”
“These... sessions you have with Gina and her, uh, friends. Are they just fantasy, Steven, or are they real?”
“There’s blood. She’s grinning at me so I slap her again. There’s too many of them, too many women. The blood is coming from her nose, it’s dripping down to her chin. I smear it all over her face with my hand. She’s laughing. She loves it, she wants more. She wants me to hit her again. But there’s a noise from behind me. It’s Cynthia. She’s naked. She’s calling my name.”
Lauren suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. She knew she was taking risks by placing her patient under hypnosis on his initial session. Establishing an accurate diagnosis and a trusting rapport with a patient often took the better part of two meetings. But from what she had seen in their first forty-five minutes together, Steven’s case required immediate intervention.
Although therapy could sometimes get stressful—and this one certainly qualified—she never feared for her safety. Yet something about Steven made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. She pulled a couple of times on her silk blouse, attempting to flap some cool air against her moist skin, then refocused on her patient. “So what happens next, Steven?”
“I take Gina, right there on the chair.”
“While she’s tied down?”
“Definitely.”
“And how does Gina feel about this?”
“She orgasms.”
Lauren paused for a second. “Does she cry out?”
Steven licked his lips. “Oh, yes. Very loudly.” He threw his head back and lifted his hands. “Owww,” he groaned. “Like that.”
“Oww? You mean, like she’s in pain? Is she in pain, Steven?”
He smiled again. “Intense pain.”
Lauren looked down at her pad. This man routinely rapes his girlfriend. But is it fantasy or reality? She shook her head. “How does that make you feel, Steven? How does her pain make you feel?”
“It makes me come. It makes me feel special. But not as special as tying he
r down. I make the ropes so tight they cut into her skin. So tight that they hurt. The ropes hurt, they hurt me.”
Lauren’s head snapped up. What did he just say? “The ropes hurt you, or do they hurt her? Who’s tied up, Steven? You or Gina?”
Her patient did not answer. A tear coursed down his cheek.
“Steven, remember, no one can hurt you here. You’re completely safe. No one will judge you. You can tell me everything.”
He smeared away the tear with the swipe of a hand. “Gina. Gina is tied up.”
“Does Gina say anything to you afterwards?”
“She’s angry. She went away for a couple of days.”
Lauren sat for a moment, trying to think of the best treatment approach to use on Steven. She knew what she had heard: her patient had clearly stated that he was tied up, which could explain many things. Was he abused as a child? Had he been tied down and tortured by one of his parents? She shuddered at the thought.
A noise in the hallway grabbed her attention and she glanced at the large black-on-white wall clock behind her patient. She needed to bring this session to a close. But what a time to have to end it!
She sighed deeply. She knew she could not leave him in his current state. If she could curb his overwhelming desires, it might keep him in check until she had a chance to work with him further and probe deeper to reach the root cause of his psychosis. Right now, she needed an immediate, albeit temporary, measure to accomplish this. To make it work, she had to take him down deeper.
“Steven, we’re going to talk more about this next week. In the meantime, I want you to close your eyes, let your head fall back against the chair, and focus on my voice.” She used a calm, melodic tone to relax him. “That’s it, just let everything go. I want you to picture yourself at the ocean. The waves are effortlessly rolling up the sand and tickling the tips of your toes. The soft breeze is blowing the hair off your face. Now think about all your anger, frustration, tension... and toss it out into the ocean. Watch it float away as it bobs up and down on the waves, moving farther and farther away from you.”
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