Alpha Warrior

by Aimée Thurlo

  “I can’t guarantee anything until I know just how deep you’re in, kid. If you’re involved in kidnaping or attempted murder, there may not be much I can do to help you.”

  The boy’s face went as white as a sheet. “I had nothing to do with anything like that. I swear. All I’ve done is a little computer work—hacking into a few accounts, stuff like that.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, you’ll probably get off with nothing more than probation. But you’ve got to talk to me now.”

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “You’re not carrying any ID, so start with your name.”

  “Marc Lassen.”

  “How old are you, son?”

  “Almost seventeen.”

  “Who hired you to tail Detective Koval?”

  “I don’t know. I was hired over the Internet—Lazlowslist. Initially, all I was paid to do was hack into Drew Simmons’s e-mail.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “The guy who hired me said you’d dumped him and he wanted to get back at you.” Marc cocked his head toward the laptop Drew had rescued. “My password is Hal2001Dave. Check it out. If it’ll still boot up, you’ll see. His e-mails are all in there. His screen name’s Persecutor. I figured that he’s really into gaming.”

  “Or maybe he’s just a sicko,” Drew muttered, under her breath.

  “What else can you tell me?” Nick asked Marc.

  “The guy told me to come up with some seriously terrifying e-mails. That’s why I decided to have a little fun enhancing the photos. Persecutor said he wanted you to suffer. That’s exactly the way he said it, too. Go into e-mail, you’ll see.”

  Drew looked it up, and a moment later nodded. “It’s all in here,” she told Nick, then looked at Marc. “Didn’t you ever wonder who the man was?”

  “Yeah, of course. I tried to hack into his e-mail account, but he never used the same URL or IP address twice. There are sites that deliberately hide your identity, so I figured that was why I never got anywhere.”

  “How did you get paid?” Nick asked.

  “I got some crazy apps, man, the kind I would never have been able to afford on my own. And I got that laptop, too. It’s a civilian, heavy-duty version of the ones the army uses. That’s why it probably survived me tossing it out in the street. I found it out on my doorstep one morning. Can you believe it? That one’s the top of the line.”

  “It’s also stolen,” Drew said. “I just checked the user accounts set up when the computer was first purchased. There’s someone else’s name and photograph there. There are also several Internet service provider accounts on this thing. One of them is set up under the name James Wright. Isn’t that Captain Wright?” she asked Nick.

  “It’s a common name, but it does raise some interesting questions. Maybe he’s been targeted and hasn’t said anything, for his own reasons,” Nick said. “Did you put it there, Marc?”

  “Nah. Those were all there when I got it.”

  Seeing Koval parking across the street, Nick called Drew’s attention to the car. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Drew closed up the computer and fell into step beside Nick and Marc as they crossed the street.

  “Koval’s not going to like the fact that I’ve already questioned Marc. Be prepared for a minor explosion,” he warned Drew.

  “But you’ll back me up, right?” Marc asked. “I’ve cooperated, so that means I’ll stay out of jail.”

  “You’ll make probation, and there’s a good chance that the charges will be reduced to some slap-on-the-wrist time,” Nick said. “But you’ll have to answer more questions.”

  Koval was waiting for them on the sidewalk and took custody of the boy. As Nick briefed him, Koval’s expression grew hostile. “You should have waited to question my suspect until I was present. This is my case and—”

  “Hey, it’s done and you’ll get the collar. We’ll get things sorted out later.”

  As Koval opened the door to the backseat, ready to secure their prisoner, a sedan cruising down the street suddenly accelerated toward them. A man holding a pistol leaned out the passenger’s side window and began firing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marc’s body shook from the impact of multiple strikes, even as Koval pushed him down behind the vehicle. As the gunman fired again, Koval took a hit to the chest and staggered back.

  Nick grabbed Drew, threw her down to the sidewalk and reached for his weapon. The sedan raced away, but Nick ran after it and snapped off three quick shots. Although he shattered the back window, the car kept going. It swerved around a corner, racing past bystanders on sidewalks and forcing Nick to hold his fire.

  Cursing, he took a look around him. The street had quickly become a mass of confusion. Yelling for someone to call 911, Nick raced back to Drew and Koval. Drew was next to Marc, who now lay crumpled against the side of Koval’s unit, his chest soaked with blood.

  Koval was sitting up, groaning in agony, but there was no blood on his chest. “Vest,” he muttered, answering Nick’s unspoken question. “Feels like…kicked by a horse.”

  “We need a doctor!” Drew cried out, horrified by the expanding pool of blood around the boy.

  “It’s too late for him,” Nick said, as he looked into Marc’s vacant eyes. He checked the pulse point at Marc’s neck, mostly to comply with training, but he knew death when he saw it.

  Nick called in the incident and a description of the car.

  “They didn’t come for you two. They wanted the kid. I just got in the way,” Koval said, after Nick hung up. “Did either of you get a good look at the shooter?”

  Drew shook her head, still swallowing hard. “It happened too fast.”

  “I got a flash—black baseball cap over dark brown hair, skin lighter than mine, clean shaven, sunglasses. But I didn’t recognize him,” Nick said.

  “Any chance you could ID him?” Koval asked.

  “Probably not. What I got was an overall impression, and the .45 auto was an M-1911, or a clone. He wasn’t wearing gloves, so if we find the car…”

  “We may get prints,” Koval said, finishing for him. “You better take Drew to the station. She’ll be safer there.”

  “Yeah. Even if one our own is involved, he won’t go after her there,” Nick said, with a nod.

  “Get going. I’ll secure the scene,” Koval said.

  WHEN NICK AND DREW arrived at the station, Captain Wright was there to meet them. “In here, detective,” he said. “You, too, young lady.”

  They followed him into the office.

  “I’m glad to see you’re both okay,” Captain Wright said, closing the door behind them.

  Aware that the captain’s name had appeared on the computer she held in her arms, Drew glanced at Nick and waited.

  Nick made his incident report, beginning with the ambush at the Simmons’s residence, and ending with Marc Lassen’s murder. “The laptop Drew is holding was in Lassen’s possession and promises to hold the most evidence. We’ve already found some interesting names on it—yours, for one.”

  Wright’s face grew stony, his eyes cold and lethal. “What exactly are you implying?”

  “I’m just stating a fact,” Nick answered. “Before he died, Lassen stated that the account with your name had already been stored on the hard drive when he got the computer. We also found the name of the original owner in the setup files, so the techs should be able to contact him.”

  Hearing the door open, they glanced back and saw Chief Franklin come in and Captain Wright briefed him.

  Chief Franklin looked at the computer Drew still held.

  “That’ll have to go down to the lab,” he said, then went to the door and called one of the officers. A stern-looking sergeant took it from Drew, then had her and Nick sign the evidence log, so the chain of custody could be preserved.

  “Chief, I have no idea what my name’s doing on that thing,” Captain Wright said. “One of my credit cards was compromised when the online si
te of a merchant I deal with frequently got hacked. I reported it, and also destroyed the card. That was the end of it as far as I was concerned—till now.”

  “In all fairness, it wouldn’t be that difficult for someone who’s computer savvy to fake an account,” Drew said. “And our names are on it as well. We’re the victims, so the fact that your name’s there, Captain, isn’t indicative of anything in particular.”

  Captain Wright gave her a grateful smile.

  “You said you questioned Lassen before he died,” Chief Franklin said, looking at Nick.

  Nick nodded. “He was just a kid who got in over his head, trying to make some quick scores. I don’t think he was lying when he told me he didn’t know who hired him.”

  There was a knock on the door, and one of the men from the crime lab came in. “We were able to download the hard drive. According to the manufacturer, the original owner was a geologist who works at a mining operation in southern New Mexico. He reported the laptop stolen about a month ago. I thought you all might want to come down and take a look at the other information we found on it.”

  “Let’s go,” Chief Franklin answered, then addressed Drew. “You’ll have to wait for us here.”

  Drew left the office, and as she walked down the hall to the vending machine, spotted Travis. He saw her, and with a smile, came over. “Looks like you can use some company.”

  “Your brother’s at the lab with the chief. I wasn’t invited to go with them.” Drew blew out a long breath. “I hate taking orders—stay, come, go. Ugh!”

  He took her into the break room. “We all answer to someone—it’s part of life.”

  “Nick’s older than you. Did he order you around when you were kids?”

  Travis chuckled. “He tried, but I usually had my own ideas.”

  “That must have made things difficult. I’ve noticed your brother likes to be in charge,” she said, sourly.

  “Sure he does, but a little adversity molds character, and I like to think I’ve done my part,” he said, then, with a gleam in his eyes added, “My brother really does need someone like you, who stands up to him. That’s the only way he’ll ever achieve balance and walk in beauty.”

  “But I understand he doesn’t follow Navajo ways.”

  “Navajo ways require more from him than he can give right now. My brother has a lot of anger inside him. Some of it is focused on our father, and is tied to the things we were forced to do to survive. Then there’s the Afghan battle and the toll it took on his unit. Many ghosts haunt him.”

  “We all have to come to terms with our past,” she said, in a whisper-soft voice.

  Before Travis could answer, Nick appeared in the doorway. “Let’s go,” he said, looking at Drew. “Time for us to get moving.” He glanced at his brother. “I’ve been second-guessed a lot lately. Double-check your phone for bugs—and keep watching your tail.”

  “Consider it done. But the same goes for you,” Travis said.

  “I’ll be taking my phone apart, and hers, too, just as soon as we’re clear of the station. But I need a favor, bro. When’s the last time you checked your vehicle for bugs?”

  “Earlier this morning. I was going to talk to a source I need to protect, so I swept it from top to bottom,” Travis said. “Well, I did a visual, then had a tech do an electronic sweep out in the garage.”

  “Smart. How about switching your wheels with mine?”

  “That’s a good idea,” Travis said, tossing his brother the keys. “I can also have your Jeep swept. My pickup’s parked just around the corner, right next to the construction site—”

  “And the video store,” Nick said, finishing for him. “You’ve been parking there a lot lately. Are you dating one of the clerks, or do you all of a sudden have a thing for videos?” Nick asked, with a half grin.

  “I like to browse,” Travis said.

  Nick laughed and walked quickly out into the parking garage with Drew. The side exit from this part of the station would put them closer to Travis’s truck.

  Nick glanced at the construction site across the street, where the steel frame of an office building was now up to four stories. A large crane was positioned on the street, and suspended beneath it, on heavy cables, rested a large metal beam that had apparently just been lifted off a tractor trailer. The place was quiet now, so he surmised the crew was on lunch break.

  As they approached Travis’s pickup, they heard the crane start up. The arm of the crane carrying the beam swung out into the street with a jerky motion that set the load swaying back and forth.

  Nick stopped. “Whoa, that crane operator had better take it easy. That load’s not stable.”

  “Maybe he had a few beers for lunch.”

  Nick grabbed Drew’s arm. “Stay back, he’s losing control,” he said, as the crane arm moved forward, its load descending erratically.

  “Hey!” Nick yelled. He turned his back on the suspended load for a second and stepped away, waving and trying to position himself so the operator could see him.

  As Drew looked back toward the beam, the cable holding it suddenly come loose and the steel girder fell out of the loops like a two-ton missile.

  “Nick!” Drew crashed into Nick from behind, pushing him out of the way. They collided with a stack of metal tubing, part of a dismantled scaffold, and they fell to the pavement as the ground shook like an earthquake.

  Nick twisted around and pulled Drew beneath him. Dust flew everywhere, and an ear-shattering clang rose in the air, as sections of scaffold bounced, trapping them behind a cage of steel.

  Rising slowly to their knees, they saw the massive steel beam on the pavement. It had hit at an angle, peeling back a chunk of the asphalt. Tangled in cables as big around as her wrist, the crane’s load had missed Travis’s pickup by a mere ten feet.

  “That crane operator just tried to kill us,” Nick spat out, grabbing a section of scaffolding and pushing it away. The metal tubes crashed to the pavement, freeing them from their temporary prison.

  Nick scrambled out, looking up at the crane. The operator was gone, though the machine was still running.

  “Call Koval and tell him what happened,” Nick said, in an unsteady voice, as people rushed out of the neighboring shops and the police garage across the street.

  “You’re hurt!” she said, her voice two octaves higher than normal, as she saw him rubbing his side and fighting to catch his breath. “Do you need to go to a hospital?”

  He shook his head. “Got poked in the ribs with a piece of pipe, but the vest protected me. Help me to Travis’s truck. We need to get out of here,” he said, giving the closest officer a thumbs up, signaling he was okay.

  “You’re not okay and you’re not driving. You can’t even breathe,” Drew said, taking the keys from Nick. “Once you catch your breath, you make the phone call to Koval. I’ll take the wheel.” As she switched on the ignition, the engine roared to life. “What does he have under the hood of this monster—a nuclear reactor?”

  “Hemi engine, heavy duty suspension, chromed chrome—the works.” He tried to even his breathing. “He could probably tow my Jeep faster than it’ll go on its own. Cost about three times as much, though. Drive faster. I’ll check for a tail,” Nick said, his voice a little steadier now, as he punched numbers on his cell phone.

  “Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’ll have a bruise. That’s all,” he said. “But you and I need to talk. What you did—”

  Koval picked up on the other end just then, and Nick briefed him in a short, staccato burst. After a few moments, he flipped the phone shut.

  “What did Koval say?” she asked.

  “They’ll process the crane and see if they can find out who was at the controls,” he said. “Fortunately, no one took a direct hit and nothing was really damaged, except for that big divot in the road. But what the hell were you thinking, running right into danger like that?”

  “Later,” she answered, calmly.
“Right now I need to know where we’re going. If I stay on this street, we’ll be out of town in five minutes. Do you want me to keep heading northeast?”

  Nick nodded and straightened in his seat. “I’m going to call my brother. But first things first.” He took the phone apart, and after making sure there were no bugs or tracking devices hidden within, dialed.

  Travis answered on the first ring. “I’m glad to hear you’re okay,” he said. “Now what about my truck?”

  After assuring Travis that his pickup hadn’t been damaged, Nick gave him a rundown. “Someone’s selling us out,” Nick said.

  “Any idea who or how?”

  “Not yet, but I have a plan,” Nick said.

  “Put your brother on the speaker,” Drew said, interrupting him. “I’m part of this, too.”

  Knowing he’d never know a moment’s peace unless he complied, Nick did as she asked, and placed the phone on the console between them.

  “Here’s my idea,” Nick began. “Tell Wright that you spoke to me and I’m heading to the Painted Dove motel on the eastern edge of town. Then tell the chief the same thing, except for the location. Say I changed my mind at the last minute, and we’re headed to one of the cabins at the River Walk Campgrounds. Then you can watch one place, and Koval the other. That’ll tell us once and for all if either of those men are passing on information.”

  “Good plan,” Drew whispered.

  “In the meantime, bro, I’ll have to find a good safe house for real. I’m going to need a breather. I ran into some scaffolding and it knocked the wind out of me.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Travis asked.

  “Yeah, just racked up a little. But I’d like an hour or so to regroup.”

  “Here’s a thought. Remember the time we hid out from social services? We went to a place no one would find us.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Nick said.

  “Hopefully, I’ll have some information for you later. I’ll be in touch.”

  Nick put the phone away and gave Drew directions. “It’s a secluded cabin near Todosio Canyon, north of the lake. It should take us a little over an hour to get there.”