Mystery: The Sam Prichard Series - Books 1-4

by David Archer

  “Mr. Prichard?” he said to Sam. “I'm Ken Simpson, I'll be your pilot today. I work for Senator Macklin, and he was asked to lend you his plane for a special emergency flight. If you'll follow me, please.” He led them into the plane, where a flight attendant waited to settle them into the comfortable seats.

  “Would you like something to eat or drink?” the young woman asked them.

  Sam smiled. “Well, we haven't had anything to eat today, so what's available?”

  “I've got a selection of meals available, let me get you menus. What would you like to drink?”

  They both asked for cokes; the attendant was back with them a moment later, and gave them menus that looked like they belonged in a fine restaurant. Sam chose a steak sandwich, and Indie selected a grilled chicken salad.

  The plane was rolling within only a couple of minutes, and went straight to the runway. Sam quipped, “Advantage of all the flights being grounded, I guess,” and Indie smiled. A moment later they were in the air and climbing.

  Once they leveled off, the flight attendant brought them their meals, and Sam whistled. “You don't get this much at most restaurants,” he said.

  “Hey,” Indie said, “don't complain, I'm starving!”

  “Who's complaining? The steak on this sandwich is bigger than the one I had at the restaurant last night! I'm in steak Heaven!” He took a bite, and moaned in pleasure. “Okay, that's it, I'm going into politics! If they eat this good, it's worth having everyone hate your guts!”

  “Oh, no,” Indie said. “I have enough trouble keeping you to myself now, I'd never see you if you were in that stupid game! I may let you make most decisions, but I'll put my foot down and throw a fit over that one, buster!”

  “Good point,” Sam said. “I'm too lazy for all those meetings anyway. I'll stick to being a gumshoe!”

  They ate their lunches, then enjoyed the flight. The way the seats were arranged, they were facing each other, and both could look out the windows. Indie liked looking down at the Pacific Ocean below them, but it also reminded her that there was nowhere to land if something went wrong.

  “I'm sure they've got a life raft in here, somewhere” Sam said with a grin, “This plane probably goes back and forth all time, so they'd have some kind of survival gear.”

  Indie stared at him. “That's fine, but I don't really want to spend a week or so floating around the ocean, either! I just want to get back over land so if we had to put it down, we could!”

  “We'll be back in Colorado in a few hours, baby, and we'll go straight to the cabin, first, get you back with Kenzie. Then I'll go find out what Harry wants me to do.”

  The plane put down at 8 p.m. local time at the Leadville Airport, the pilot managing to land them safely despite being on a runway designed for smaller aircraft. Sam and Indie thanked him and his crew as they exited the plane to be met by Harry Winslow, himself.

  “Sam, boy, it's good to see you again,” the old man said, and Sam pumped his hand. “George,” he said to his driver, “get their bags, please.”

  “Yes, Sir,” George said, and Harry turned back to Sam.

  “Harry, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you getting us back here,” he said. “I want to get Indie to the cabin, and then I'm all yours. What have we got?”

  Harry got them into his car, climbing into the back of the limo with them and sitting in the forward seat, facing them in the back. “Sam, the boys at Pearl Harbor's labs have managed to get a radiation signature from the bomb you found that's letting them scan each city from the air. Special equipment can spot similar signatures from helicopters flying overhead, and they've already got three more. We're keeping your discovery a secret for now, of course, so the terrorists don't start moving them.”

  “Then I don't know why you wanted me. If you can find them, you can disarm them, right?”

  Harry nodded. “Yes, and now I've got to ask your forgiveness for not being completely honest with you. Y'see, Sam, I've only got a two-man team here for HS, and they're pencil pushers, not agents. Trouble is, they've come up with something that says we may be in the middle of the hot spot; the cell that's behind this whole operation seems to be based right here in Denver, but I can't get anyone upstairs to accept that. They say it doesn't make sense, that terrorist cells work inside true major cities, and wouldn't base their operations in a place where they can't get access to certain things they'd have in New York or LA, or even Chicago.”

  Sam looked at Indie for a moment, then back to Harry. “I'm getting a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Go on.”

  “Sam, I'm too old to go chasing bad guys myself, and Uncle won't give me any agents for this. I've been granted one search team, but they're scientists, not fighters. Yes, we need to disarm the bomb, but I want the bastards behind this thing, and if my bright boys are right, then the way to catch them is with someone who's got what it takes to track them down. I've seen what you two are capable of; I'm asking for your help.”

  Sam leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face. “Harry,” he asked, “do you know where the bomb is? The one here?”

  Harry smiled. “We spotted it two hours ago, tucked into a parking garage not half a block from the State Capitol. I haven't let anyone go near it yet. All the ones we've found are on timers set to go off at the same time. For us, that would be about midnight the day after tomorrow. Since they had someone checking on your bomb, I'm sure they're watching this one, too, and what I want you to do is watch and find whoever's checking on it. If you can do that, then I'm hoping you can track that person back to whoever he's working with, and if we're damned lucky, you just might be able to identify the cell itself.” Harry paused and just looked at Sam for a moment. “Sam, boy, can you imagine how much that would mean?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah. If we can nail a major operational cell, it could lead to intelligence that would find others working inside the country. Let's get Indie to the cabin, and I'm in.”

  Indie was watching silently to this point, but she'd heard enough. “Sam,” she said, but he cut her off.

  “Babe, I've got to. Harry's right, this is too good a shot to miss, and if he doesn't have anyone he trusts to do it, then I can't turn him down.”

  Indie laughed, but it wasn't in humor. “Do you know you're an idiot?” she asked. “Of course you've gotta do it, baby. All I was gonna ask was if there's internet access at the cabin! If I can get online, and you keep in touch with me, I can help.”

  Sam grinned. “Sorry, babe,” he said. “There's no internet there, though.”

  Harry held up a hand. “Not a problem,” he said. “This car has better Wi-Fi than any five star hotel, and we can leave it with Indie, if you've got another way to go.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, Mom's got our truck at the cabin, we can take it. What about phones? Are they all still working around here?”

  “Your phone is still on the priority list, Sam, and I can put Indie's on it, too. Any number you call will go through, either of you.” He took out his own cell phone. “What's your number, gorgeous?”

  Sam gave him a fake nasty look, but Indie rattled off her cell number before he could say anything, and then Harry was on the line making sure Indie's phone got the same priority rating as Sam's. When he got done, he looked back at them both.

  “So,” he said, “how was the honeymoon?”

  “Short!” Indie said. “Way too short!”

  “Honey, when this is over, I'll personally see to it that you get to go back and finish it! For now, all I can say is that your country needs your help, and I can't thank you enough for coming.”

  They turned onto the road that led to the cabin just a half hour later, and Sam directed the driver up the gravel track. There were numerous side roads, and he hadn't been there in several years, so he had to watch for the signs to be sure which one they needed. When he saw it, they turned in and pulled up to the cabin five minutes later.

  Sam hadn't thought to call ahead, and Indie had wanted to sur
prise Kenzie anyway. As they parked, Sam saw the door of the cabin open, and when George stepped out to open their doors, they were all startled by the blast of a shotgun.

  “You move a finger and I'm gonna blow you to the sky!” his mother shouted, and the driver dropped to his knees with his hands in the air. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  Sam touched the button to roll down his window. “Hey, Mom,” he called out, “I'd really prefer it if you didn't shoot the man who brought us home!”

  Grace lowered the shotgun and stared. “Samuel? Samuel? What the hell are you doing here?”

  They all climbed out, and Grace set the gun down against the porch rail as Kenzie and Kim came running out. Kenzie leapt into her mother's arms, laughing with delight and hugging her tightly, while Sam explained and introduced Harry to his mother and Indie's.

  Harry took each of their hands and bowed low over it, touching it with his lips. “It is my pleasure to meet you, ladies,” he said, his deep southern drawl making the words seem somehow sultry. Sam saw his mother's eyes light up, and groaned silently. If Harry wasn't careful, she'd wrap him around her finger in no time! He'd seen her do it to other men since his dad passed away, but she'd never met one she really thought was a true man. He wasn't sure Harry, as tough as he was, could handle her, but he kept his mouth shut.

  They went inside and Kim insisted on making them all dinner. Since the flight had taken almost seven and a half hours, Sam and Indie were hungry again, and before long they were sitting around the big oak table eating spaghetti and meatballs.

  Harry spent part of the time telling the ladies how Sam and Indie had tracked down the bomb in Hawaii and saved the country, but he didn't go into detail about what Sam would be doing for him next, and Sam wanted it left that way. Kim, however, couldn't keep her own mouth shut if it meant saving her life!

  “Beauregard says Sam is going to find the bomb here, too,” she blurted out, and that led to an explanation of who Beauregard was, which got Harry looking at Sam oddly. Sam held up his hands.

  “Hey, Beauregard came with her,” he said, “I got nothin' to do with it!”

  Harry smiled at Kim, and Sam saw a flash of jealousy cross his mother's face. “And would Beauregard happen to know where it is, to help Sam do so?”

  Kim closed her eyes for a moment, and then shook her head. “He says he can't see it, but Sam will know where to look,” she said, “and that he's to be extremely careful when he meets the man with the red eye.”

  Harry and Sam both said, “Red eye?”

  Kim smiled and shrugged. “That's all he'll say,” she said, “that you're to be careful when you meet him, because he's not what he seems, and he's much more dangerous than you think. I guess that means you'll know him when you see him.”

  Sam shook his head. “I'll keep an eye out for him,” he said, winking at Harry.

  Harry looked at Kim. “Would Beauregard have any messages for me?” he asked.

  Once again, Kim closed her eyes, and her lips moved silently. Suddenly she smiled, and looked at Harry. “He says he hasn't seen you since Gettysburg, but you're going to be doing something new, soon, and you'll be much happier in your new job.”

  Harry's eyebrows went up. “Gettysburg?” he asked, his face turning pale. “What about Gettysburg?”

  “Beauregard says you and he fought together there, and he hasn't seen you since then. He says he's glad to see you again.”

  “How interesting. If he decides to tell you more, please don't hesitate to let me know.” He passed each of the ladies a business card, and both of them smiled.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, if the séance is over, can we get on to business? Indie, you need to get your computer out and make sure you can get online through Harry's car, and then he and I need to get moving.”

  Indie went to her bags and got out her laptop, and a moment later Harry gave her the security key for his car's Wi-Fi system. She logged on and whispered, “Wow,” when she saw the data speed. “Ten megs a second! That's awesome. Harry, you might not get your car back!”

  “Don't get excited, honey,” the old man said, “it's just a loan. George will take you ladies anywhere you need to go while Sam and I are gone, just let him know.”

  Sam kissed Indie, and Kenzie ran to him for a hug and kiss of her own. “I missed you, Daddy,” she said, and Sam smiled. “Not as much as I missed you,” he said, and the little girl giggled and hugged his neck.

  Sam turned to Harry. “Let's do this,” he said, and Harry got up from his chair. He kissed the hands of all the ladies, including Kenzie, and they walked out to the Ridgeline.

  Sam looked at Harry as they got in and started it up. “If anything happens to me on this job, Harry...”

  Harry didn't even try to reassure Sam that he'd be back; both of them knew that dealing with terrorists carried greater risks than any Sam had ever faced on the police force. “They'll be well taken care of, Sam, I promise.”

  Sam nodded once, and put the truck in gear.

  7

  They rolled into Denver a bit over an hour later, and parked outside a run-down building Harry had directed Sam to. As they got out of the truck, a door opened and a young man stepped out.

  “Hey, Harry,” he said in greeting.

  “Ron, meet Sam Prichard,” Harry said. “Sam's on loan to us for the duration. Sam, this is Ron Thomas. Ron runs my HS office, here.”

  Ron extended a hand. “Mr. Prichard, it's an honor! Harry's told us a lot about you.”

  Sam shook his hand. “Just Sam will do, Ron. What have you got for me?”

  They went into the building and Ron led them to an office where another man sat at a computer.

  “This is Jeff Donaldson, my assistant. Sam, what we do here is basically just gather intel, scanning through the internet, text messages, phone calls and such looking for clues that might lead to terror activities. Mostly, we end up bugging people in simple private conversations, because the program that flags things for us doesn't know the difference between someone saying 'my head feels like it's gonna explode' and someone else saying 'the bomb is set to explode in two hours,' leaving us to check it out and see if there's any real threat.”

  Sam nodded. “I get it,” he said.

  “We've been hunting any clues in this case, and we're pretty much coming up empty. None of the normal channels have any chatter that could be tied to the cell we're looking for, except for this: we got one phone call early this morning, a guy with a Middle Eastern accent saying, 'Ahmed is not answering his telephone. Should I go and check on the toy here?' The response was, 'No, leave Ahmed to himself.' Now, other stations have reported that 'toy' seems to be the code word for the devices, but that seems to be coming from individual operatives saying that their own 'toy' is in place and armed. This is the only communication intercept we've found that seems to be an operative checking in with a superior, and it was an incoming call to a disposable cell phone that was located here in our area. We got the number the call came in to, but ten minutes later it was dead, and we never got a location on it.”

  Sam thought for a moment. “What about where the phone was sold? Could you track that? Maybe they bought a bunch of them at once, and you could get other numbers.”

  Ron nodded. “We tried that, but this phone was actually bought at a truck stop, one of those you get and buy minutes for, without any ID or anything. The store that sold it said they only sold four phones that day, and we checked all of the others, but they seem to be in normal use. Truckers calling girlfriends they don’t want their wives to know about, things like that. No other chatter of interest on any of them.”

  “These guys have caught on to a lot of the ways we track them,” Jeff said. “They don't buy phones in bulk anymore, just one at a time, random locations and scattered over many different days.”

  Ron nodded. “We've got data miners going through every throwaway phone sold in the past three months, going back a month before the one we were able to identify
, but so far they're getting nothing. They all seem to be either dead or in normal use. We're digging through everything, scanning facebook and every other social site, dating sites, wikis, emails, you name it. They're not using normal channels of communication except for something they consider urgent, that's my guess.”

  Sam nodded. “Sounds like it,” he said. “What have we got on the bomb in the parking garage?”

  Ron shrugged. “Harry told us to stay away, so all we know is that it's there. The scan team pinpointed it by the rad signature, but Harry didn't want anyone going near it, so no one has.”

  “It's probably in a car,” Jeff said. “I've got you some gear ready, let me show you.” He got up from his seat and led Sam and Harry into another room, while Ron sat down at another computer.

  He picked up a cell phone with a bluetooth earpiece. “This is something the spooks get to use in the big cities, but sometimes we manage to get a few such items here. It's a Geiger counter disguised as a phone, and instead of making any audible noise, it sounds off in the earpiece, so no one around you knows what you’re doing as you scan for rads. All you need to do is carry it in a pocket and walk around the area where you suspect radiation might be found; if it's there, this'll find it and let you know. Just walk through the garage, and when the noise gets louder, you’re getting warm. When it's loudest, you're hot, and if it starts to fade, then you're walking away from the device. Should make it easy to spot the car with the bomb.”

  He handed it to Sam, and then picked up a wrist watch. “This is a working digital watch, but it's also a GPS signal generator. Every fifty seconds, this little baby signals to the nearest cell tower your precise location, so we can track you no matter where you go. It can also be activated as an audio monitor, which means that if you feel the need, you can tell it to call us on a cell signal and let us hear everything going on around you. There are two buttons on the side; if you push both of them at once, it activates that feature for thirty minutes, and its pickup is extremely sensitive. If your hands are tied behind your back, you can whisper and we'll hear what you're saying. If someone is talking in another room and you can just barely hear them, this baby can pick up what they're saying and transmit it to us.”