Toxic New Year: The Day That Wouldn't End: The Day That Wouldn't End (Alex Desephano Series Book 4)
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Toxic
New Year
The Day That Wouldn’t End
Also by Judith Lucci
Alex Destephano Novels
Chaos at Crescent City Medical Center
The Imposter
Viral Intent
Finding St. Germaine (2016)
Others Books
Ebola: What You Must Know to Stay Safe
Meandering, Musing & Inspiration for the Soul
Toxic
New Year
The Day That Wouldn’t End
A NOVEL BY
JUDITH LUCCI
Copyright © 2015 by Judith Lucci
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 author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Acknowledgements
As you all know, it takes a village for me to write a book and I never see this changing! There are dozens of people I talk with everyday about the Alexandra Destephano series who give me ideas, suggestions, and guidance. Thank you all! I’d like to give a special shout out to my wonderful author friend, Eric J. Gates, a masterful thriller writer and author of The Cull Series, Outsourced and many other five star reads. Eric has been my technical expert in most things military, explosive, and gun-like. He is a stellar friend and author. Also, as always, thanks to my faithful editor, Jennifer Mandell of Bluestone Valley Publishing, who faithfully tolerates my blunders, inconsistencies, and screw ups. Jen, you’re the best! As always, I want to thank Eric Blumensen for his unique cover designs for the Alex Destephano series.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my faithful readers and fans! God Bless You and many thanks for helping me grow, keeping me on the right track, helping me out and buying my books! You all rock!
About the Author
Judith Lucci is an Amazon Best Seller Author who hails from the Commonwealth of Virginia. She holds graduate and doctoral degrees from Virginia Commonwealth University and the University of Virginia. She has been a practicing clinical nurse for over 25 years and is currently a professor of Nursing at a major University in the Southern United States. She is the author of numerous academic and health-related articles and documents. Her Alexandra Destephano series is based on her experiences living and teaching in New Orleans. She is also the author of the Michaela McPherson, Private Eye series scheduled for release in the fall of 2015. When not teaching or writing, Judith is an avid silk painter and multi-media artist. She divides her time between the mountains of Virginia and the Mississippi Gulf Coast. She welcomes interactions with her fans and can be reached at Judithlucciwrites@gmail.com or www.JudithLucci.com.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 1
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 1
The day dawned dark and dismal. Gray clouds permeated the sky as snow fell heavily in the Virginia countryside. Veteran Secret Service Agent-in-Charge John Cole looked down from his perch in a tree stand as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Looks like we’re gonna get the ten inches they were talking about,” he predicted to his partner, Rob Henry, who was struggling to get out of his sleeping bag.
“Yeah, ‘fraid so,” Rob answered in his southern drawl as he checked his watch. John reached for the worn plastic coffee carafe, poured a cup, handed it to Rob and grinned.
“Man, that was quite a party last night, wasn’t it?” John exclaimed. “I’ve seen some hell raisers in my time, but have never seen anything quite like last night.” He stopped and laughed. “Although it did provide entertainment for a long, cold night,” he added, as he sipped his tepid coffee.
Rob smiled his slow, lazy smile and laughed shortly, “Yeah, those folks from Naw’lins sure do know how to party, no question. You think they’re the ones who caused the power failure?”
John shook his head, “Don’t know for sure, but wouldn’t be surprised. They were pretty wild, to say the least.” He was silent for a moment and added, “I guess it could’ve been an accident and someone tripped the switch or something, but what I don’t understand is why the generator didn’t come on immediately. Those forty minutes without power have made us vulnerable. Call into the Command Center and remind them to do an additional perimeter sweep as soon as possible. Search for any type of breach to the farm perimeter fencing and the water front.”
“Yes sir, I’m on it,” Rob answered as he quickly grabbed the phone.
John nodded, “It also bothers me that the auxiliary power didn’t work. I don’t understand why, but there must be a problem in the gas line. Have the agents check the fuel lines to the emergency generator and search all of the outbuildings, just in case.”
“Yes sir,” Rob replied. “I’d hate to lose power again today with hundreds of people showing up for another party. That would disappoint a bunch of folks.”
John smiled and nodded, “Yeah, it would. We’ll be off in a couple of hours, just in time for Miss Kitty’s New Year’s Day Bloody Mary Brunch, and we’ll catch up with the folks from last night and see if they’ve figured out what caused the power failure.”
Rob nodded and said, “Good idea, sir.”
As Rob spoke with the Command Center, John looked through his field glasses and frowned as he remembered the power failure. Anything could have happened in those long minutes.
Someone could have snuck in … almost anything could have happened.
“Looks like a few folks are up down there. I am sure half the guests are still drunk this morning, especially those wedding guests of Commander Francoise,” Rob opined as he hung up the phone.
“Yeah, probably so. Are the agents checking the perimeter?” John wanted to be sure the place was secure before the next few hundred people arrived.
“Yes sir,” Rob replied. “They’re leaving shortly. They’re waiting for an ATV that’s somehow tied up with party preparations.”
“What?!” John was incredulous. “Who said that? They can’t use Federal vehicles to get ready for a party.”
“Agent said Miss Kitty insisted. Said it was OK. Something about putting up a tent and needing to move parts of the tent with the ATV.”
John shrugged his shoulders and cursed to himself. “Why the hell didn’t they use a pick-up?”
Rob laughed again, his face disappearing into happy crinkles. “No idea. Maybe those Naw’lins people are doing it,” Rob speculated. “Yeah, I think those New Orleans people are the very worse. They’d steal Federal property in a heartbeat if it had to do with a party,” he ranted.
John shook his head and said nothing. He’d have a talk with Lighten just as soon as he got out of the tree house. Congressman Lee should know better.
“Yeah, well, they cut their teeth partying. It’s a way of life down there,” Rob continued happily. “I had a buddy in the military who was from Louisiana, near some swamp or bayou, and the stories he’d tell about drinking and hunting ‘gators’ would keep you laughin’ all night long.” Rob smiled as he remembered back to his military days.
John was getting impatient with the banter. “Check again about the ATV,” he ordered. “If necessary, get Lighten or Miss Kitty on the phone. We need that vehicle … now.” John remembered back to last night when Lighten and Miss Kitty, code name for Adam Patrick Lee and his wife Kathryn, had refused to go into the safe room in the estate after the power failure. He was still angry about that and intended to address it with Congressman Lee before the next party. Damn these folks. We can’t do our job if they won’t let us.
“Taken care of sir,” Rob assured. “I talked to Miss Kitty. It’ll be back in five minutes.”
John nodded. “Thanks, Rob. Keep your eyes peeled for trouble.”
“Yes sir,” Robb said as he reached for his binoculars. “Lighten and Miss Kitty can really entertain. It was a throw down party, to say the least, but I’m looking forward to scrambled eggs, a Bloody Mary, fresh coffee, and a warm bed,” he laughed. “Responsibility for the safety of New Orleans’s finest and the leadership of America has worn me out,” Rob grinned, happy at the thought of some shut eye.
“Wait,” John held his finger up, “Do you hear that?”
Rob listened carefully, his hand cupped around his ear. “Sounds like a truck on the farm behind us. Maybe the caterers got lost. The log said they should arrive around 0700 or so.”
“No, no,” John cautioned as he rubbed his ears to try to hear clearly. “It sounds like someone running in the woods. Sounds like sticks breaking.” He turned his head toward the sound again, his white hair the color of the falling snow. The iciness of his blue eyes intensified as he listened.
Rob adjusted his field glasses to view the pasture and forests in the distance. He listened, but shook his head. “I don’t see or hear anything except the wind blowing through these tall pine trees and the chattering of my own teeth. It could be a deer or some other animal,” he speculated.
John’s face was grim and his eyes alert. “Check with the Command Center in the main house and see if there’s anything on the monitors and camera feeds. Also, get visuals to be sure the perimeter has not been breached. I know I heard something,” he added, as he peered through the snow into the woods and continued to listen.
John grabbed Rob’s field glasses for a better view, as Rob adjusted his earwig and spoke briefly into his microphone, “Base 1, do you read?”
After a series of clicks, the sound of a man’s voice answered, “Base 1, Reading you loud and clear.”
“Seth, anything unusual going on down there?” Rob’s voice was low and quiet.
Seth Farmer, a long-time electronics and security specialist, stared at the numerous readouts and camera monitors in front of him, “Nope. Nothing but deer and a bunch of cattle too dumb to move out of the snow into the barn. All’s quiet. Why? What ‘cha got?”
John interjected abruptly, “Thought I heard something in the woods down by the creek. It could be the caterer’s truck, but I don’t think so. It sounded more like someone or something running through the woods.”
Seth listened carefully and replied, “We don’t see anything here. No visuals. The gate cameras and sensors aren’t picking up anything yet, so I don’t think it’s the caterers. You got anything else?”
“No,” John replied, “but if I hear anything else, I want you to send up a quad copter with FLIR camera to check perimeter surveillance.”
Seth scratched his head and replied thoughtfully, “I can do that, but don’t know how useful it’ll be in this weather. If we get much more snow, the optical sensors won’t work because of the snow and ice.”
John sighed. Security at Wyndley Farm was the best money could buy and then some, but in lousy weather, most of it was useless. After the attack upon Congressman Adam Patrick Lee and his wife in New Orleans before Thanksgiving, Congress had appropriated the necessary funds to design and build an extraordinary state-of-the-art security system for the Lee’s Virginia home. The main house was equipped with a security system which included internal and exterior video surveillance, electronic keypad locks, heat sensors, infra-red technology, and a safe room, while the perimeter security was nothing short of amazing.
The Lee estate consisted of over 1200 acres of farm and woodland deeded to the Lee family in a land grant by the King of England in 1756. The perimeter of the estate was surrounded by a hurricane fence six feet tall with razor wire at the top. The fence was embedded with sensors measuring motion and vibration, which often resulted in false positives when animals or branches picked up activity. The security around the outer perimeter, on a good weather day, was so sensitive that it picked up the sound of a cow chewing her cud. The location of the least quiet sound was indicated on a topographical map display on a monitor; agents could quickly investigate by ATV or 4x4s. The system also displayed three-dimensional color images of any suspect behavior and transmitted them to the monitoring system in the house as well as to a similar mobile system Rob and John had in the tree house.
Seth laughed and said, “It may be some of those drunks left over from last night’s party who just woke up in the woods and are tryin’ to get home.”
Rob laughed, “Yeah, could be. There were a lot of scrambled brains around here last night. It was a heck of a party.” He paused and shook his head, “American’s finest showing their tails. To tell the truth, I was a bit envious, sitting up here in the tree watching those Senators and Congressmen throw back, not to mention the New Orleans police brass. ”
Seth laughed in agreement. “Yeah, for sure. It was a great party and I still wonder if the guests caused the blackout. By the way, John, we checked the backup generator and still see no reason why it didn’t come on.”
The ever vigilant John Cole nodded, listened to his agents banter back and forth and interrupted, “Guys, don’t forget today is a holiday and terrorists love to attack on days Americans consider sacred. This farm may have state-of-the-art security, but none of it works perfectly all the time and the weather will be a serious factor if we get a lot of snow. There are only eighteen of us protecting over a thousand acres, so let’s be vigilant.”
Seth quickly became serious. “You’re right. I think I’ll take a walk and look around. If I see anything, it surely won’t be a false positive from some malfunctioning scanner. Anything from up there you think I should check out first?” he questioned.
Cole scanned the area with his monoculars, which sported a tactical scope of 10-25 zoom capacity. He preferred the monoculars over field glasses because they were lighter in weight and allowed him one eye to safeguard spatial and situational awareness or ‘local’ events. The high zoom capacity also provided him the ability to discern scopes for sniper shooting and other fine details.
“Yeah,” Cole replied. “There’s is a crop of trees near the creek that could provide good cover if someone wanted to sneak over to the barn. The tree branches could allow them to jump the razor wire and get in.” Cole deduced. “Is there someone inside who can cover the Command Center?”
“Yeah,” Seth replied. “Of course no one is as good with the electronics as me,” he boasted cheerfully, but I guess I can trust them for a few minutes,” he added in a teasing voice. “I’m on it.”
“Thanks, man. Are you driving? Is there an ATV you can use to search the perimeter,” Cole replied.
“Negative,” Seth reported. “All the vehicles are in use for party preparation. I’ll be on foot.”
A deep frown flickered over John Cole’s face, and Rob thought he heard him curse again under his breath.
“We’ll watch you from here in the tree tops,” Rob assured Seth. "We’ve got the best view, you know, and of course, the best weapons available.” Rob was silent for a moment and then said, “Come on up when you are done. We have some great, cold coffee we’ll share.”
“You got it,” Seth agreed. “I’m outta here.” he said, as his temporary replacement opened the control room door.
Chapter 2
Yassar Ahmid was frozen and hungry as he moved pieces of sharp metal around in his truck bed. He searched for the shiniest and sharpest pieces in the pile as he daydreamed of killing the Congressman who had insulted his country and defiled his faith.